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last-words-ofashootingstar · 7 months

Text

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

"Hello, Si-"

"Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

"Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

"Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

"No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

"Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

"I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

"Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

"Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

"Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

"Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

"Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

"Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

"I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to. A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

"Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

"Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

"I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

"Where is your family?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

"Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

"I must admit... a bit."

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

"Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

"Mingi—"

So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person.

He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

"W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

"It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

"G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

And he absolutely revels in it.

"Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

"Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

"Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

"Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

"Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

"Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

"Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

"Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven."

The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

"Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

"I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

"If it is, we would be silly together."

"You mean-"

"Yes."

You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

"Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

"Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

"Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

"Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

"Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

"Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

"You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

"No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

"Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

"He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

"Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

"Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

"Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

They share a look.

It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner.

He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

"Buck."

"Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

"Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

"Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

"That's what's gonna happen."

"You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

He puts a bullet in his brain.

You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

And then all is silent.

With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder.

"What the hell was that, boy?"

"That was me saving your ass."

༄

Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down. And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

Because he was the gunner.

Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

WANTED.

DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

The door to the bar swings open.

The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

"Mingi..."

"Are you okay, Doll?"

You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

"Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

"What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

"You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

"Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

"You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

They don't know that Mingi was the one.

He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

"Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

"I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

"Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

"Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

"Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

"Why not?"

All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

"Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

"Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

"Aye, man, I did what yo-"

"Too close."

"Just give me my mon-"

His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

"Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

"I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry, slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

"I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

"I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

"You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

"Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

"Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

Mingi is so deep.

Mingi is so thick.

Mingi fucks you so good.

Mingi treats you so good.

Mingi loves you.

Mingi.

"Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

"Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

"F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

"Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

"You did... but I liked it."

He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

"But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

"I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

"Mrs. Song."

༄

#ateez #ateez smut #smut fic #yandere ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #yandere mingi #mingi smau #mingi smut #ateez smau

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somnambulic-thing · 4 months

Text

page 622 read on ao3

Eddie Munson x afab!reader E +18

summary: It's the middle of the night and you just can't find sleep. Eddie wants to help. He wants to help so bad.

Words: 3k

||reader has insomnia, smut, fluff, pinch of angst, LOTR references, domestic, nerds in love||

A/N: This is for all of us who haunt the nights. <3

Page 622 is graced with not one, but two dog ears.

That’s nothing unusual for the thick heavy paperback in your hands. A copy of The Lord of the Rings, all three parts united in one book and littered with battle scars like a gnarly old Orc of Mordor.

It belongs to both of you, bought on that whimsical fleamarket by the side of the road with spare change collected from the nooks and crannies of the van. It hadn’t mattered that you already owned a box set each, it had been clear that this book wanted to go home with you. Once integrated into your shared collection, it became the copy that was pulled out when Eddie and you had an argument about the most minuscule details to settle. It wasn’t a rare occasion that someone got tackled before they could claim victory over the matter. That brave book had been ripped from victorious hands more times than you could count and flung over shoulders, into corners or behind furniture.

It was also the copy Eddie used to ponder ideas. When he was writing a campaign and the atmosphere he was eager to create didn’t feel quite right, he would go down into the Mines of Moria or deep into the thicket of Fangorn forest and seek inspiration between the lines. There he left marks with the heavy tip of his pencil, elbows catching on the edges of pages as he reached for his notebook, creating new dogears, sometimes small tears.

You loved those marks and never grew tired of discovering fresh traces of his adventures. They kept you company on those days you wouldn’t get tired at all.

The world between the worn covers was familiar, the motions of the adventures committed to memory in many places, the adventurers friends that comforted you on restless nights.

You chose this copy over the others you own because it’s an intimate object, because you could trust it to catch you should you fall asleep on its pages, trust it to be more beautiful in the morning with more kinks and wrinkles.

But there were days when even the unhastiness of Treebeard wouldn’t do the trick to coax you into slumber. Today was such a day; stuck on the sofa on a dark, restless sea and no sleep in sight.

You hadn’t heard him coming.

“Just flopped around the mattress like a fish out of water looking for you.”

Eddie’s voice is deep and raspy and a little cranky around the edges. Your eyes shift from page 622 to where he stands in the doorframe, all tousled hair and sleepy eyes. There are lines on his right cheek, a shallow relief in the mirror image of his pillowcase. His boxers sit dangerously low on his hips and it tickles in your fingertips to follow the trail of soft hair and tuck them further down.

“That’s an amusing image,” you say with a smile as Eddie rubs one eye with his flat hand, nose scrunched up and wrinkly. “Can you demonstrate that to me?”

“Do not mock me. I awoke all cold and lonely…” he waves the other hand through the air. “Forsaken by my love.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, the mirth in your tone slipping just slightly, but Eddie catches it.

“How long have you been up?” he asks, banter put aside in exchange for worry and makes his way over to the nest of blankets and pillows you’d made on the sofa.

You frown, not sure you know the answer to that question, feeling like you’ve fallen out of the stream of time; trapped in endless night, doomed to read the same three sentences on page 622 again and again with nothing but your thoughts for company. Until now.

You turn to check the thin green digital numbers on the VHS recorder while Eddie lowers himself to the ground in front of you. “Almost two hours.”

“That’s no good,” he says softly and fumbles with the blanket draped over your legs in search of your skin, nudging the book off balance. It slides down your lap with a soft rustle. Dark, heavy eyes search your face for clues he knows you’re reluctant to give him and a warm palm finds your thigh moments later, an epicentre for violent goosebumps. You shiver and he smiles. “What can I do?”

“Nothing—“

“You underestimate my relaxing properties.” He places a kiss on your knee. “It’s pretty annoying, actually.”

You shake your head. “Don’t want to keep you up—“

“Want me to take over the reading? You just rest and listen—” He lowers his voice to a soft rumble. “—let me hypnotize you.”

“You really don’t have to—“

“Shhh… would you please just let me help?” Without waiting for an answer, Eddie slides the blanket off your thigh and covers it in soft, slow kisses.

“Can’t—“ kiss “go—“ kiss “back to sleep—“ kiss kiss “knowing—“ kiss “you’re out here alone. Suffering.”

His hair is soft between your fingers. You loosen a few small knots while you rake your nails over his scalp.

“Eddie… I…”

It’s exhausting being a ghost, to haunt the wee hours of the night unable to find rest. It was also lonely. There was a hazy barrier isolating you from the people around you. From the man whose company you craved so much but struggled to accept in this circle of hell.

Eddie has had his fair share of sleepless nights, had done plenty of haunting himself; but not like this, not without a trackable cause that offered some degree of sense. And you’d never wish this on him no matter how lonely you get, but sometimes, you find yourself envying him for the way he just falls asleep on any surface most days and with the envy, there comes resentment. The disconnect between resentment and longing a rope binding your hands behind your back, keeping you from reaching out.

Dark eyes are staring holes into your body as Eddie is waiting for you to continue, to give him something.

“You what, sweetheart?” He’s rubbing circles into your skin. “You want me to leave? Like, actually?”

“I don’t want to take my mood out on you…”

“Why not?” he grins. “We could make it fun. Tire you out, air out some of that—“ his hands leave your legs to gesture wildly through the air. The cold creeping in where his warm palms had just rested feels unbearably cruel. You don’t want him to leave. “— some of that pent-up… whatever it is.”

“Okay.”

Eddie’s brows vanish under tousled bangs. “Okay? Shit, I had this whole speech planned about how we’re a team and that you’re being so stubborn is a waste of time—”

“You complaining?”

“No… no…” he smiles and runs his hands up your thighs. “So, you wanna be a little… mean to me?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Don’t want that.”

He hums and nods, leans down and licks your skin; from your knee right up to the hem of your shorts. It’s the slightest touch, just the tip of his tongue, but the sensation sinks into your body like warm summer rain falling onto dry and dusty ground.

“Let me love you,” he mumbles against your thigh, running the tip of his nose along the border of fabric you hide behind. “I hate it when you feel lonely while I’m right here and fucking crazy about you…”

“You’re right here,” you repeat like in a trance. Eddie looks up at you, so soft and wild at the same time and so sincere and you feel the last layer of resistance melt as if it had never existed.

“Right fucking here.”

“Fuck me.”

Warm gentle hands begin to free your legs from the tangle of blankets and you marvel at how much of Eddie’s essence resides in his touch; soft but rough around the edges where his fingertips have put on tough skin over the years. There’s so much love, so much passion lingering in those points where you end and he begins.

Accompanied by the soft rustling of fabric, Eddie runs those storytelling hands up and down your thighs, from the inside to the outside and up to the round of your ass where he ever so slightly puts his nails against your skin and runs them down down down to the back of your knees where he holds on and pulls you further down the cushion. You yelp a little and then you both laugh a little and you lift your hips to aid him rid you of your shorts and underwear.

“M’ gonna try a thing,” he says and spreads your legs just wide enough to fit in between.

“Try w-what?” you ask around a hitching breath as you watch Eddie slide two fingers into his mouth. They glisten with spit when he pulls them out and you can hear a few drops hit the floor as he lowers himself down.

“You know how I sometimes take ice-cold showers to shock spiralling thoughts out of my mind?”

“I… what? AH!”

One long finger enters you swiftly, moves in-out-in-out and is joined by the other. Heat expands like a shockwave through your pelvis as all the blood rushes to greet the pads of Eddie’s fingers. He moves with precision in quick pulsing motions against that soft erogenous spot deep inside you, watching you closely.

“Good?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Not too much?”

“No,” you grit out as your hips start to twitch.

There is no smug little smile, no told-you-so grin, only deep concentration and a bright red blush high on his cheeks and you desperately wish he’d kiss you. That thought is gone and forgotten as that penetrating pulse quickens, deepens and Eddie’s mouth inches closer and closer to your clit. There’s a sharp tingling in your cunt, not quite a sting, not quite pain and it’s hot and delicious and as it spreads out into every corner of your body, the world gets smaller and smaller, shrinks countless miles each second until this sofa is the only place left in the universe.

“Holy shit, holy shit, those noises, sweetheart.”

You can’t hear a thing over the rush in your ears and as Eddie’s lips close around your confused, prickling clit, your eyes roll up and close.

And for an infinite moment, there’s nothing left but ecstasy.

When time starts up again, you’re re-entering the world shaking and gasping. Eddie is quick on his knees. One hand closing around your wrist and the other pressed into your back he pulls you into an embrace that you collapse into like a dying star.

“I love you I love you I love you…” he whispers into your hair and holds you holds you holds you until you feel solid again. “You good?”

You nod and hum.

Hands find your face and guide you up and you remember how badly you need a kiss when Eddie’s lips form pretty words so close to yours. “Now, let me take you to bed and—“ You interrupt him, pressing your mouth to his with desperate, sloppy urgency. He chuckles softly, catching your lower lip with his teeth for a gentle tug before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Really wanna continue this.”

“Can’t move… you broke me.”

“Oh, well, pretty sure you broke my fingers with your pussy so we’re even. Get up.”

You laugh and reach for the hand cupping your left cheek; you kiss the palm, run your tongue along his fingers and kiss the tips. “Better?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up and he takes a sharp breath. “Bedroom!”

He scrambles to his feet and pulls you with him. In motion like that, you can feel drowsiness settling in, slowly taking hold of your muscles. Your legs still feel shaky, almost heavy, and Eddie wraps an arm around your waist for the moment it takes you to steady yourself.

“Looks like it’s working,” he says softly.

“Feels like it, too.”

Finally, there is the smug smile you have been waiting for. “And it took me less than two minutes. ”

“You… checked the time?”

“For science,” he says proudly and the smile turns into a grin.

“Ah, science. Alright, Doc,” you reach down, hook a finger into the waistband of his boxers and let it snap. “I’m ready for the next experiment.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrows his sleepy eyes and hums. You can hear the cogs in his mind take up speed and then he sidesteps you and begins to rummage through the mess of blankets and pillows on the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a sec, you gave me an idea— ha!” He whirls around and shoves The Lord Of The Rings into your hands. Your reaction is tardy and you feel the cover catch on your thumb and bend in a way that probably leaves a crease but you have not time to check because Eddie is quickly maneuvring you to the bedroom.

He sits you down on the bed and swiftly pulls your shirt over your head and you have no choice but to let go of the book. It drops somewhere on the mattress and out of your mind when Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and strips out of his boxers.

“Never gets old”, you marvel at the sight of him, pale and lean but soft and the smile you just conjured with those words seems nothing short of diabolical with the way the light catches his features from below.

You recede onto the mattress and he follows you like you’re magnetic, crawling after you until he’s back between your legs, kissing his way up your body, taking his time to caress your breasts with his hands and lips. Only when you yawn he stops and comes up to face you, to kiss you and you drink in the sigh of relief that he places inside your mouth as he slides his hard cock against your folds, you hold on to goosebump-covered shoulders as he pushes inside you.

“Never gets old,” he moans as he rolls his hips against you in deep, slow thrusts and kisses your nose when you have to giggle.

You’re not chasing ecstasy now, but wholeness, you’re not searching for a high, but for refuge. All your thoughts slow down while Eddie occupies all your senses.

“How do you feel?” he asks into the soft spot below your ear.

“Good… Sleepy.”

“M’ not saying I told you so—“

A chuckle tickles your skin and suddenly, a bolt of guilt and fear flashes through you. “But we can’t do this every time—“

“Hey!” He lifts his head to look at you, presses a finger to your lips. “Shhh… Don’t go there,” he says and puts his forehead to yours. “Come back… come back to me. I got you.”

“I’m here.”

“You just have to let me in…” He kisses you like he’s sacred you could vanish from beneath him and you swear you can feel his heartbeat reach out for yours, swear you can feel it pound against your chest like it’s begging for entry.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper and sling your arms around his shoulders. “I’m trying.”

And then he moves, slowly pulling his cock from inside you—

“Eddie?”

and stretches long across the bed to grab the book right off the edge.

“On your side,” he instructs and manhandles you into position before you can comply on your own and slides back into your cunt before you can process what’s happening.

“Fuck… oh fuck…” you moan as quick deep thrusts hit just the right spot over and over. You can hear the rustling of pages behind you and Eddie’s chest retreats from your back. “W-what are y- ah you…?”

‘It was not much more than a tall man’s height now…’ he reads the first line from page 622. You try to turn to look at him but he pushes you back. “Nu-uh, relax. M’ going to read to you and I’m going to fuck you till you pass out and maybe then you’ll think of waking me sooner the next time you pick up this book in the dead of night.”

You moan and laugh and there are tears in the corner of your eyes. “You trying to condition me?”

There’s no answer, he just keeps reading; shakily, punctuated in the quick rhythm of his thrusts and laced with moans of his own. You just close your eyes and let go and soon enough you’re close to the edge again.

’We are famisshed, yes famisshed we are, precious,…” he croaks in a toned down, breathy Gollum impression that’s highly confusing and you clutch the sheet, pulling it loose.

“Shit… you gonna make me come…”

After a few more lines he stops reading and you hear the book drop. Eddie presses close to you, softly bites your shoulder while a hand wanders down between your legs to play with your clit.

‘Yess, yess, nice water,’ said Gollum,’ he continues from memory.

“Oh, you asshole,” you groan.

‘Drink it, drink it, while we can! But what is it they’ve got, precious? Is it crunchable? Is it… tasty?’

One strangled moan falls from your mouth and then your insides tense violently. Eddie mercilessly fucks you through it and beyond and doesn’t slow down until he coaxes another orgasm out of you. He follows you this time. You feel him pulse and twitch deep inside of you, feel his hot breath on your shoulder and neck and one stray tear escape the corner of your eye. It runs down the side of your nose while you listen to both your mismatched breathing slow down again.

“I fucking love you,” you babble groggily. “So much… so much…”

Eddie places a kiss on the back of your head and picks the book back up, resuming where he left off. He stays inside you while he softens until he slips out. The distinction between characters fades, the gaps between words grow longer but you barely register it; it’s the sound of his voice that pulls you under into the depths of Morpheus’ realm and you’re finally ready to descend completely…

‘Look here!’ Sam whispered to Frodo, not too softly: he did not really care whether Gollum heard him or not. ‘We’ve got to get some Sleep—' Eddie pauses. “Precious? You asleep?”

Your slow, even breathing is all the answer he gets. He carefully reaches over you and drops the book on the mattress before he turns off the light and wraps his arm around you.

“Gonna find you in my dreams,” he whispers into your shoulder and follows you into sleep.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson fanfic #my fic

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princess-tulip-writes · 1 year

Text

azriel’s habits while doing it

a/n: this was requested to me so long ago, and I feel horrible for taking so long but alas, here it finally is. I plan on making this a series with the bat boys and maybe the vanserra bros too.

I think azriel is a switch; dom leaning.

he’s mainly a soft dom but alternates to a hard dom sometimes too. he can be submissive, but only if you ask or he needs to be taken extra care of.

azriel tends to baby you during sex; calling you pretty nick names, caressing your skin, kissing you all over, making sure you’re feeling just as good as he is.

speaking of nicknames, he has the best ones for you that make your pussy clench just from him calling you them.

princess, angel, bunny, and sweet girl are the most common, but they never really stop. he always finds new titles to make you flustered and wet.

pussy eating is a daily routine for him. never once has he sinked his cock in you without getting a taste first, making you cum at least once beforehand.

he just loves the fucking taste of you so much, the days that he doesn’t fit eating you out in his busy schedule are always bad ones. it’s comical to you, but if you giggle about it, you’re in trouble.

punishments are never mild with azriel. spanking sessions are long and harsh, your ass is definitely a shade of purple and blood red once he’s finished.

he’ll carve his initials in you if you need reminding of who’s pet you are too. but that’s only if you’d gone too far to make him jealous.

overestim and edging are big ones for him when you’ve done something minor.

he’s the type to eat you out, but stop as soon as your right on the edge then go about his day. he won’t fuck you before bed that night either to teach you a lesson.

with overstimulation, he’d keep lapping at your clit until your sobbing for him to stop, then fuck you for hours until you’re both soaked in squirt.

making you a squirting mess is his favorite thing ever btw.

this male has SUCH a dirty fcking mouth. like seriously, you can’t get him to shut up.

“what a pretty girl.”

“fucking love this cock don’t you?”

“tell me who’s fucking you this good, princess.”

“gods, I love the way you say my name, angel. keep screaming it for me.”

sigh, I need him.

his hands love wander all over your soft curves, squishing your chub adoringly as he stares into your teary, fog filled eyes. he always whispers to you about how you feel like paradise in his hands.

cum! rings!

he loves looking at the way his cock disappears inside of your lush cunt, then comes back with a white, creamy ring at the base from how much you’ve came.

his kisses are hot, and filled with such passion that it could make the cruelest lords fold under him, and it makes your knees buckle and walls clench every time his lips find yours. his tongue is everywhere in your mouth exploring. the smell and taste of him is intoxicating and you savor every bit as his fucks you.

omg okay, wingplay.

it’s the absolute death of azriel, let me tell you

usually, when you want to expel the prettiest whines and moans from him, you would drag your fingertips along the curves and bones of those glorious wings.

and boy, no matter what mood he is in; weather he’s pissed at you and pounding you so fucking hard, or feeling so loving to you— the second your graze the sensitive membrane, he’s a goner.

“fu-fuck, beautiful.” he’d whine before sinking his lips to yours and moaning against them as you keep tickling him.

also, wingplay definitely helps you when you’re in a lot of trouble— if your hands are free that is.

which gives me an idea: kissing his wings.

you usually only do this when you’re making love or you’re the one in control. either way, it makes him crumble instantly.

a few opened mouth kisses and some licks to the underside can get him desperate and ready to cum so fast. he actually starts to buck his hips in the air because he just wants to finish so bad.

when he cums, which is in a fairly decent amount of time; not too quick, but not too slow. you usually cum once or twice on his cock before he finishes inside.

he cums ropes too.

the fucking sounds this male makes—

im talking whimpers, beautifully dark whimpers and moans as he fills you up. his wings flutter softly and shake, his thighs and abs clench and he usually seeks out your shoulder or bottom lip to bite.

aftercare is always a top priority !!!

sometimes he runs you a bath immediately, others he just stays with you and holds you close while telling you how good you’ve been for him, how much he loves you, how pretty you are as he peppers soft kisses all over your face.

#azriel 🌷#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel headcanons #azriel smut headcanons #azriel x reader smut #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel shadowsinger x reader smut #azriel shadowsinger x reader #acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar blurb #a court of thorns and roses smut #acotar x reader smut

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artethyst · 2 months

Text

~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! OC/Reader

Little Silas Vanserra had Eris vowing to never have anymore children.

He thanked the Mother that his daughter was a little angel- still at the age where she wanted to be carried everywhere, snuggled peacefully in an adult’s arms.

Her pale hair and violet ringed autumnal eyes reminding him so much of the woman he loved.

Her older brother was the complete opposite.

He wondered if this was his punishment, a cruel joke played upon him by the Gods for having such a carefree life since his father died and reminding him that he needed to keep his faltered guard up.

And that’s how he felt in the early hours of the morning, with little hands patting at his face and excited little feet hopping on the oak floors of his bedroom.

Tired.

He cracked one amber eye open- unceremoniously meeting a matching golden flecked iris, one full of wonder and guiltlessness, as he supposed his own once were.

He closed it as quickly as it had opened, letting a wry smirk take over his ostensibly lazed features.

“Daddyyyy I know you’re awake-“ the little boy began incredulously before shrieking in glee as Eris swooped him onto his chest with ease, tickling his son mercilessly as his Mate softly slept beside him.

After the boy had relented, his rounded cheek flushed with the childish mirth of giggles, Eris couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the boy’s wild red locks.

As expected the boy’s mother was still soundly asleep, Eris had always been a light sleeper, in fact having his Mate beside him and children down the hall only worsened the fact, even though his father was no longer a threat- to him or his loved ones, simply having them in such a place always had him on high alert.

Even though he had done his very best to rid the Autumn Court of longtime Advisors, the types of men that would love nothing more than to see the Night Court Princess with a Fae bane arrow through her much too large heart, he knew there was no good in him-undeserved of him in ever feeling content.

It had the opposite effect on his wife, who admittedly had never slept better than when she was in the comforting arms of her husband- the natural warmth emanating from him lulling her into such ecstasy she wished she never had to be cruelly ripped away from by the chill of the Autumn morning.

She had never really slept well in the Night Court, the pain of living there without her mother sister always too much to bear.

Eris was her new home.

Since having children- her body still not quite having recovered from their second and Eris insisting she get as much rest at she could, even the joyous squeals of her firstborn still wouldn’t- couldn’t make her budge.

“Daddy Uncle Lulu said you p-pwomised-“

“Promised,”

“Promised to show me m-my fire againnn!”

The boy was practically trembling with excitement, his father’s hands coming to steady him as his little body wriggled with joy, perched on his father’s raised knees who raised a slim digit to his smaller lips, reminding him to remain quiet as possible.

Not that it would have made a difference to the blissfully knocked out woman beside them.

“Did he now?” Eris withered, the thought of his brother- knowing just how much he treasured the few late mornings a High Lord might have, had told his son- who’s adorable little face noone could deny, that those small, valuable hours were reserved for “magic time”.

It took only a brief moment, a fleeting fall of Silas’ dimpled grin- his mother’s grin, to have the High Lord swinging his legs from the refuge of his silken sheets, his boy held firmly in his strong hands.

“Then I think it is best we get dressed appropriately, what do you say Little Flame?”

The boy simply cheered in response and Eris couldn’t help the grin on his own face at the feel of chubby hands around his neck in a makeshift embrace, carrying him down the hall as his son rattled on in half nonsensical toddler speak about how he was going to ‘beat his Uncle Lulu in a duel’.

The Maids cooed as the little Prince raced down the hall in his teeny tiny Autumnal uniform- gifted to him by his Aunty Elain who thought they were the cutest thing ever.

The boy stopped when he reached the top of the grand staircase, skidding to a halt with a nervous expression on his little face.

The same staircase his Mummy always carried him down, the same staircase he had been told to scoot down on his bottom in case he tripped, the same staircase she had been slowly helping him descend himself (holding his hand tightly and giving up halfway as he took nearly a whole minute per ten steps)

Eris watched him amusedly- a miserable jutted lip and a coy flush on his baby cheeks.

“Umm Daddy, M-Mummy said I am not s’pose to go down m-myself in case of ouchies…”

That was not what she had said.

“I thought you were a big boy now, hmm?” Eris teased as his son pouted, just as his mother would have.

“I-I am…” Silas’ point was refuted with the small grabby motions his little arms made to his father who looked down at him with a smirk.

“Do big boys get carried down the stairs?”

“Ummm…Yes?” The boy widened his glimmering autumnal eyes, “pleasies?”

And so with a roll of his eyes, all in good humour, Eris fastened his excitable son against his chest as they began to exit the grand estate, heading into the vast, luscious gardens where they would begin their training.

Lucien could only laugh when found his brother- sincere and unbridled joy dancing in his otherwise piercing gaze, watching his son chase after the little flames he made for him.

“Uncle Lulu!” The boy squealed, barrelling into the male who swung him atop his shoulders with ease.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Eris warned, “he has quickly figured out how to control his magic, you might end up with that treasured hair of your singed at the root.”

Silas nodded furiously, his little feet hitting the floor as he flexed his small palm as proof, and to his pure wonder, delicate embers- faint as they were, twinkled at his will.

“Look Daddy! I did it! I did it!” Eris couldn’t help but chuckle softly as his son danced with not only with the little flicker he had mustered with his father’s help, but larger wistful wisps that flowed around him with delicate care.

Eris couldn’t help but feel his heart constrict, wishing nothing more than to give his children the childhood he had wanted- deserved.

He took one look at his son and wondered how anyone could ever hurt him, let alone do it himself.

He wondered what he had done to make his own father hate him so, vowing to never once make his own offspring feel even a fraction of the way he had.

For what seemed like hours Lucien and Eris entertained the little boy, sometimes engaging in a silent battle between one another who could impress the young heir the most.

Lucien eventually was called away and Eris wondered if his years were finally catching up to him, small burn marks littering his clothes from his son’s inexperienced hands and an ache in his legs from chasing after him.

After Silas’ giggles had dissipated along with his energy, Eris suggested they head back, the boy agreed sleepily, the thrum of magic still alive in his little body as Eris made a mental note to keep an eye on his budding powers.

“T-Thank you for giving me my fire,” Silas mumbled, stumbling over to his father “love you Daddy…”And as a pair of all too familiar amber eyes met the High Lord’s blurring own, he bent down and received his greatest gift in his trembling arms.

A reminder he would never be the man who had damned him, a reminder that he was a good man- a good man that was loved.

#fanfic #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra x oc #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris x reader #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar

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jewishrat420 · 4 months

Text

Eddie realizes he's a boy when he's thirteen.

And it's not magical, nor is it mundane, nor is it anything else that the pamphlet he found in the back of the record shop told him it might be.

It just kind of... happens. A few times.

First, he's in the shower.

He's scrubbing himself down with the loofah Wayne bought him, and it tickles and itches and rubs him in all the wrong ways, but he uses it because Wayne spent money on it.

It feels the worst when he scrubs over his chest, but it also kind of feels good.

Feels like he's washing a part of himself away that's unclean. Scrubbing and scrubbing until the skin is raw and red, hoping and praying that it too will come off with the water, drip down the drain with all the other dirty parts of himself.

It doesn't, and so he forgets.

Until his twelfth birthday.

Because there are pink candles on the cake.

There are pink candles on the cake.

And he doesn't know why, and he won't know why until another year after this, but he cries.

He cries until his throat burns and his skin sings with defiance at the feeling of traitorous tears turning his cheeks flushed and blotchy. He cries because it hurts.

He cries because the candles on the cake are pink, and the last birthday party he went to (back in third grade, before his class realized he was a parentless freak) boasted blue candles. Blue for a boy.

He doesn't know why, but he finds himself nauseous at the sight of his own.

Pink. For a girl.

And he doesn't get it, doesn't put two and two together, but he can't stand the sight of them.

He throws the cake to the ground and storms to his room.

And somehow, even though he should be, Wayne isn't mad at him.

He just lets Eddie be for a few hours, and then he returns with a can of soda (even though Eddie's rarely allowed to have any) and a new copy of Lord of the Rings, and he sits at the edge of the bed and says nothing.

Eddie sniffles. Wipes his nose with his sleeve. Apologizes for ruining the cake.

Wayne brushes him off. "I'll do it right next year."

Eddie doesn't know what he means.

(The following year, when Wayne comes out with blue candles on a blue cake, he understands.)

Either way, the realization is neither magical nor mundane. It's not special and it's not not special. It just is.

It goes like this:

He's reading that same copy of Lord of the Rings, sitting in the same bed, wearing the same clothes, and he thinks that he'd like to be like Frodo.

Or Sam.

Or Aragorn.

And he doesn't quite know why, and it doesn't quite matter. He just sits there, and sips at his soda (that he grabbed from the cabinet himself, because Wayne let him), and thinks that he'd like to cut his hair.

(Later, he'll realize that he prefers it long.)

He starts wearing his t-shirts baggier, and his shorts longer. Throws away all the skirts and dresses that never fit him quite right, then later finds some that do.

It's not mundane, and it's not magical. It just kind of is.

Eddie realizes that he's a boy the same way that he realizes he's been breathing his entire life. Constantly, and without effort.

And so he continues on, being a boy and breathing, in that very same way.

He sips his soda, and reads his books, and feels a little sick when he sees the color pink.

Feels better, though, knowing that he belongs to blue.

original thread

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #eddie munson is trans #trans eddie munson #transmasc eddie munson #transgender eddie munson #eddie and wayne munson #good uncle wayne #ftm eddie munson

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FOUR

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 3.8+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

4:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00

BIRDIE created a groupchat.

BIRDIE added DINGUS, NANCE, JOHNNY, & ARGYLE 😎

DINGUS: why the fuck is my name dingus

BIRDIE: so… are we going to talk about how in love they look in that photo?

NANCE: Eddie looks like he’s going to commit a federal crime, Robin.

DINGUS: how do i change my name

ARGYLE 😎: a sign of true love my friends

BIRDIE: @NANCE SEE? he gets it.

JOHNNY: Is this chat really necessary?

DINGUS: guys seriously. how the fuck do i change my name?

—

HOUR FOUR - 7:00 PM

Let the record show that you don’t normally care about Lord of the Rings. You’d seen the movies out of obligation to your friends, nothing more, nothing less. You usually held complete indifference towards the trilogy. As a matter of fact, you’d nearly given Robin an aneurysm the day you’d informed them all you preferred the Hobbit trilogy over the original movies.

Eddie, it seems, holds a similar sentiment to Robin.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he sighs dramatically, sinking into the couch and looking far more comfortable than he had previously. A bottle of cheap beer dangles carelessly in his hand. He’d decided to grab both of you one the moment this argument had begun, “You casually bring up Gandalf, and then you proceed to have the worst opinions on the greatest franchise of all time. A crime against humanity.”

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely through genuine laughter.

You were laughing. You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his apartment, laughing with him rather than at him. It was a fluke in the system, a blip in the Universe. You tell yourself it’s just the effects of the beer.

“What’s next? You tell me you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek? Or, let me guess, you’ve never read the books?”

He looks nice like this, at ease. This hour might be setting the track record for the longest the two of you had gone without insulting one another, and you begin to wonder why you’d never been able to hold such a civil conversation with him before tonight. The two of you might not be agreeing or seeing completely eye to eye, but there was enough agreement to keep the entire debate chugging along.

He notices your silence as you take a sip of the beer you’ve nearly polished off, smirking around the rim of it, a bit of beer lingering at the corner of your mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve never read the books.”

“I never said that!”

“You never said you did!”

Your mouth is open, fighting back at the curl of the corners, unable to defend yourself because he was right. “I- Who even reads anymore?”

“Excuse me?” his voice pitches as he sits up straight suddenly, “Oh, no. There’s no way you just said that. There’s no way you don’t read.”

You shrug, and his beer is quickly set to the side.

“C’mon, everyone reads. You’ve got to have a guilty pleasure book.”

“Nope,” you tuck your bottle between your thighs, and catch the way his eyes had followed the bottle before snapping back to yours, “I just prefer the movies, I guess.”

“No one prefers the movies. You’re a goddamn liar,” he shakes his head and some of the frizzy curls fall against his collar bones rather than continuing to tickle his shoulders, “You have to read something. Romance novels, boring essays, the news. Hell, even magazines or that written porn shi-” he cuts off when you smile at the mention of magazines. “Why are you smiling like that? Stop it. It’s creepy. Do you read those porno books?”

“God, no,” you laugh. A lie - you’d certainly read excerpts from Fifty Shades of Grey he was referencing to understand what the hype was to no prevail, “Just ironic you bring up magazines. You probably consider yourself a real connoisseur, don’t you?”

He flushes crimson. His cheeks that had tinged pink from the warmth of the beer are now flaming red. “I have no idea what you mean.”

He clearly did.

“Right,” you drawl, “So which article in that Playboy caught your eye? The one about the psychological deep dive into what makes sex so great, or the interview with that one porn star? No, wait, I got it! It was totally the one that gave fifteen ways to drive a girl crazy-”

“It’s not a fucking Seventeen magazine,” he snaps, but the malice in his voice is dull, “There’s no lists on how to get the girl, it’s a porn ‘zine, Jesus H. Christ.”

“I know that, do you?” you press, reveling in the brush crawling its way down the side of his neck.

He runs a hand over his face, groaning, “I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer. Fuck off.”

“Do you just ignore all the photos of the beautiful women?” you don’t hold back your teasing, subconsciously leaning his way as your voice lilts with sarcasm, “Ignoring all those bushes? Or maybe you just prefer the Brazilian cut?”

“I liked it better when we were talking about your illiteracy,” he deadpans, staring straight ahead at his entertainment center.

“I never said I couldn’t read, just that I choose not to most of the time,” you finally pull back a bit, scared to push it all too far. You pull your legs up beneath you on the couch and move the beer that has gone warm to the table on the opposite end as his, “Sue me for trying to make friendly conversation.”

You await his expected response about how this was not friendly conversation. You start to do mental gymnastics of a way to bring up the specific model he had marked the pages of, of the eerie resemblance she bears to you and a way to push his buttons regarding it. This conversation was following your script, not his.

Or at least, it was.

“Fine. I prefer the bush, I always find the lack of hair kind of weird,” he says, throwing you off your game effectively. He stares at you with now expecting eyes, “What about you?”

You’re grateful you’d stopped nursing the beer, or you surely would have choked, “What?”

“What’s your preference?” he clarifies, not backing down, “On yourself, on partners. Whatever.”

“I- I don’t- I never-” you stumble over your words, at a complete loss for an answer. It only makes him smirk as he’s now the one leaning in closer, close enough to catch the smell of his cologne concentrated on him.

You hadn’t realized you’d adjusted the boyish smell of the apartment until this very moment.

“See? Not so fun when you’re the one getting asked the personal questions.”

He’s right – you shouldn’t dish out what you can’t handle him throwing back into your face.

“Fine,” you mimic him, squaring your shoulders, “Bush.”

“On yourself or others?”

“Myself,” there was no use in being shy now, “But also on, uh, partners. Kind of unfair to expect something from someone I wouldn’t give in return.”

He nods in surprising consideration at the notion. His face twists as if he’s taking words you’d thrown out there so carelessly to heart, as if there’s some hidden message that even you hadn’t realized was laced in the notion. For a moment, you start to believe he’s committing the words to memory before he answers you.

“That’s fair,” is all he says.

A moment of intense thought for that?

“What? That’s all you’ve got to say?” you scoff, and busy yourself with the beer again out of nerves. It’s warm and bitter on your tongue, but it’s better than looking him in the eyes. Warm, honey eyes you’d never really cared to notice before.

“Yeah,” he lifts his shoulders into an offhand shrug, “I mean, what else is there to say? Like you said, you can’t expect something from someone you can’t return.”

Another silence drags out, and this time, it’s stifling. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Eddie being quiet would bother you, but it does. The lack of words in the air is leaving too much room for thought from both of you. It’s giving you too much time to think on those warm, honey eyes and those damn dimples. Trivial things about Eddie that you don’t care to remember past tonight.

“My friend collects vintage Playboys,” you blurt out, internally cursing yourself immediately. What a stupid conversation segway.

Should have teased him about the dog-eared pages, you regretfully think as you dare to look his way.

His face is surprisingly smooth, eyebrows quirking up into the frayed edges of his bangs, “Oh really?”

You nod, “Yeah. Hell of a lot more bushes in the seventies.”

A lot less of that model you like, you silently add, once more not voicing that concern out loud.

The dimples return. Those fucking dimples. “Hm, guess I should check them out, then.”

“She collects them for aesthetic purposes,” you continue to ramble, filling the air, unsure of why you’re even defending yourself. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to dissect the small piece of your life you’ve offered, “It’s… It’s really cool, actually.”

“It sounds cool,” he agrees gently.

The other shoe is left dangling in the air, if it even continues to exist.

You think about his earlier question, of whether you really wanted to keep up a miserable act for the entire twenty four hours. If the last hour hadn’t already solidified your answer, you knew now for a matter of fact that he had a point, even if he did proceed to insult you after the question. You didn’t want to spend this time miserable. The passing of time came easier when it was like this, all rounded-edged banter and friendly words exchanged. When Eddie Munson wasn’t being an asshole and making personal digs at you, he was actually a nice person to have around.

You’d never tell him that, of course.

“It’s why I collect all that,” he motions his hand towards the shelving of figurines and trinkets, “I just think it’s cool, you know? I… Uh, I sort of lied earlier. Most of that shit isn’t that expensive. But it’s not about how much it’s worth money-wise, it’s just worth a lot to… to me.”

A glimpse of crimson, a flash of vulnerability that proves that Eddie has a heart just as you do. It beats erratically, and it can bleed just the same.

“That makes sense,” you offer in response. You may not get it, but you wouldn’t push his buttons on the topic. They may be nothing but clutter from your perspective, but the same could be said about the vintage Playboys your friend collects. The same could be said about plenty of things that are sentimental to you. “Doesn’t it get creepy, though? Like, you bring home a girl-”

“Or a guy,” he interjects, making you smile.

“You bring home a girl, or a guy, and you’ve just got Gandalf staring you down while you make a move. Or… Or, Darth Vader?” you squint to pinpoint another figurine, “Is that Darth Vader? Didn’t you say Star Trek is better than Star Wars?”

“Never said that,” he points at you with a tilt of his head, “I just don’t prefer Star Wars over Star Trek.”

“Have you seen Star Wars? It’s way more entertaining.”

“Have you seen Star Trek?” he counters, but it’s clearly rhetorical as he continues on, “I like both. Having a preference for one doesn’t mean I’m completely against the other. Besides, the light saber effects are fucking incredible.”

“So you prefer the prequels?” you ask eagerly.

“I guess. I mean, the original trilogy is still badass and a classic,” he stands abruptly, and you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, but he just walks over to the Darth Vader figurine to pick it up and bring it back over with him as he flings down onto the couch, now several spaces closer to you rather than opposing ends, “It’s kind of hard to beat the ‘Luke, I am your father’ reveal,” his voice dips down to a deep tone, a fairly spot on impersonation, “But it was also nice seeing his origin story.”

“Plus Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen are gorgeous,” you add, almost daring to lean over and bump shoulders with him. But you don’t. You keep what little space remains between the two of you.

“Of course,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “The eye candy is what gets you.”

“And the cool effects!”

“Right. Next you’re going to say you definitely watched for the plot, huh?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“And the plot’s name just happens to be Ewan.”

You bite down the grin that starts to ache your cheeks, because you’re not supposed to smile around Eddie this much. “Now you’re getting it.”

The hand holding the Darth Vader figurine suddenly thrusts out in your direction, and you find yourself jumping a bit. When you don’t take it, he waves it around a bit, raising an eyebrow, “It doesn’t bite, you know.”

“You said to not touch your shit.”

It’s a pathetic lie, you both know it. But he doesn’t know how scared you are to brush fingertips with him, how the way his arm being so close has electricity buzzing from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head. One small shift, one outreached hand, and your skin would brush his.

It would surely be nuclear. An explosion with no survivors, least of all you.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve disregarded that rule the entire time, why start being a goody two shoes now?” he teases.

Which is fine, except Eddie teases a certain way – with his entire body. His knee knocks into yours, he leans into your space, a boyish grin spreads over his lips. You’ve seen him dance around this kind of lighthearted conversation with everyone else in your friend group except you. It’s uncharted territory, and your heart nearly breaks out of your chest from its rapid racing.

You’re just lucky that there’s two layers of jeans between your knees. The nuclear explosion will have to wait for another day.

Instead of an answer, you reach out and grab the figurine nimbly by the small leg. Your fingertips narrowly evade Eddie’s and you’re eternally grateful and his arm retracts. You poke and prod, gently wiggling the red, flexible stick that serves as his lightsaber and pinch at the edges of his cape.

In your silence, Eddie speaks, “It’s not a crazy collectible or anything, like I said. It probably would have been more valuable to keep it in its packaging, but one time Wheeler brought his little sister over while they were in town, and she wanted to see him out of the box, so I took him out. You know Wheeler, right?”

You shake your head, inspecting the figurine even closer now. It still looks brand new; you’d never be able to tell that a child, presumably, had played with the ‘toy’.

“Oh,” Eddie looks taken back, faltering slightly, “Sorry, I- I just sort of assumed that…. You, uh…. You had met Steve’s children.”

“Oh!” your head shoots up from where your nose had been nearly pressed into the figure, taking in the detailing of the chest piece, “You mean Mike? I’ve heard about him, yeah. Just in passing, though.”

There’s more for Eddie to say, it’s clear in the way his mouth falls open with the corners quirked, but then you’re interrupted by a phone ringing.

Your phone.

Steve’s contact photo occupies the screen for the second time tonight, a ridiculous photo of him scowling at the camera in a yellow jumper while holding a can of pringles in front of him, one of his hands bringing a single chip to his pouting lips.

“Let me answer it,” Eddie insists, holding out his hand as you stare down at the phone, still chiming annoyingly.

“Were they supposed to call this often?” you ask, knowing well enough that Eddie didn’t have the answer.

His hand waves in impatience, and you don’t put up a fight as you let him take the phone and swipe the answering bar, focusing instead on the Darth Vader discarded into your lap as he puts the call on speaker.

“Hello?” Eddie answers in a chirpy tone.

“How many times do we have to te- hold on. Munson?” Steve starts off aggressive, but his tone melts into confusion, “Why the hell are you answering her phone?”

“Because I’ve murdered her,” he flatly replies, but his face doesn’t match his tone at all.

He fucking winks at you. Your grip on Darth Vader tightens until you’re afraid you're about to snap it.

“Not funny.”

“Not a joke.”

“Where is she, Eddie?” Steve sighs like an irritated parent, in no mood for games, “Please tell me you didn’t manage to make her lock herself in a room again.”

“I told you. She’s gone. Sacrificed to the Dark Lord or whatever. Just got to go dump her body in the lake-”

You shouldn’t joke along with him, but you still whisper the correction of, “The canals.”

“Sorry, I mean the canals.”

Another deep sigh. You can picture the way Steve was currently pinching the bridge of his nose at the two of you.

“I heard her, you idiot. Now that we know you’re both clearly alive and well…. Where the hell is our photo proof?”

You both share a look, and you quickly mouth, already?

Eddie shrugs and mouths back, I guess.

“We lost track of time,” you finally say out loud, still locked in eye contact with Eddie. His brown eyes are surprisingly captivating, several autumn shades all woven together. Burnt orange leaves, red apples, brown sweaters. You never thought you’d be able to see a season in someone’s irises, yet here you were, picturing it clear as day. “Let us hang up and we’ll send the photo.”

Steve starts to speak, but Eddie’s thumb is quick to end the call. The moment your lock screen stares back at both of you, you look at the time.

7:41. Shit.

“Oops,” Eddie whispers as he hands the phone back over, “They really gave us quite the grace period that time.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, quickly opening your damn camera app. “So, how do we want to do this one?”

Eddie thinks for a moment before he launches himself back to his side of the couch, and motions for you to toss him your phone.

And once again, you put your faith in him, not even hesitating this time.

It happens naturally; you both mirror each other, drawing up your knees, your sock-clad toes bumping firmly against one another. Your back is supported by the worn arm behind you, similar to how Eddie’s is, as you face him.

He quickly angles the camera towards you, sticking a hand out into the frame while raising his middle finger. You don’t know what to do, so one hand holds up the Darth Vader as the other mimics flipping him off.

A soft click from your phone. The photo’s taken, and you’re not even sure if you were smiling.

“Trade,” he leans forward, one hand holding out your phone, the other reaching out for Darth Vader.

You oblige, and go through the same process for his photo. His white socks contrast your black ones, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards no matter how hard of a line he presses them into. You can’t look at him directly, and settle for watching him through the screen as you hit the small grey button to snap the photo.

Just as quickly as he had shoved away from you, he’s back at your side, watching you send off the photos to the group chat with a thumbs up emoji. You take a deep breath, scanning over the pair of photos until it’s confirmed that they’re delivered, and lock your phone. Your brows are furrowed in your reflection staring back at you through the black screen.

“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours?” Eddie’s voice echoes in your mind.

No, you don’t. No matter how wrong this levity with Eddie feels, no matter how uncomfortable it is each time you remember that he’s meant to be the enemy and not someone to share laughter and smiles with, you don’t want to waste these remaining twenty hours being miserable.

“What’s up?” Eddie’s actual voice echoes in real time as you continue to stare at your reflection.

“Just thinking,” you grunt. The thought of admitting your decision to Eddie is much more intimidating than simply acknowledging it to yourself.

“Dangerous.”

Instead of quipping something rude back, you decide to be vulnerable with Eddie. You decide to crack yourself open just a small bit, just as he had done microscopically when he spoke of his collection of items. It’s a dangerous gamble, and you don’t give yourself the chance to overthink it.

“You were right, earlier,” you force the words out, fighting the way they try to cling onto your tongue and remain safely in your throat.

“About… what?” He looks distrusting, and for good reason. He said plenty of things earlier - you could be preparing to remind him of any number of rude things he’d spewed.

“About keeping up the miserable act,” you explain, turning your head to him and abandoning the phone, “You were right. I don’t want to be miserable this entire time. It… It goes by faster when we’re not about to strangle each other, believe it or not.”

You swear you see his shoulders sag in relief. “Well, yeah, I could have told you that. I did tell you that, actually.”

“Shut up,” you force a scowl, “My point is… I don’t know, maybe, we could try to- try to just- we could be-”

“Civil?” he finishes the sentence you stumble over.

You nod, “Yeah. We could be civil.”

The word feels foreign on your tongue. Civility was not something you’d ever considered with Eddie, but the last hour had proven it to be possible.

“Okay,” he nods along with you. He turns his entire body to face you, knees once again bumping as he sticks out a hand for you to shake, “Deal. We will try to be civil the rest of the time.”

“Civil,” you repeat yourself again, more sure this time, still staring at his offered hand.

An olive branch. The opportunity to work together to survive the next twenty hours. The opportunity for his bare skin against yours.

You think again of nuclear explosions and pulsing electricity, of open chests and matching scarlets, of smashing glasses against walls and ruined parties, of wounds healing over in scar tissues as they glow a gentle pink.

Civil. You wonder if that’s one of the words they’ll include on your gravestone as you reach out your hand and let Eddie’s palm meet yours.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #let's see if i can get it to post in one try this time

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weebsinstash · 2 months

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so the screenshots are kinda janky but I was rewatching the whole scene with Ozzie and Fizz's morning routine and I remembered there were those shots of like, the imp staff who work for Asmodeus and

is she helping do the laundry in platform thigh high boots, an apron, and a thong 😅 is that her UNIF0RM? Does she pick that out herself??? Is Lust just SO HORNY that it's totally normal that Ozzie's housekeeper is half-naked? Is he banging the housekeeper? Are Fizz and Ozzie exclusive or is it an open relationship? their other imp staff member was literally fully dressed so is this an optionally slutty, pro slut dress code idk

Like I'm sorry I'm just sitting here thinking of Reader who, Sinner or otherwise, is down in the Greed Ring as another performer for Mammon and Fizz is eventually like, "look, working this job is my dream, but it isn't yours. you shouldn't be attaching yourself to Mammon if all you need is a paycheck. I've got a... close friend who always needs extra hands; let me introduce you!!" and you have no idea that he's literally organizing a meeting with The Actually Fucking Cardinal Sin Of Lust until you're standing right in front of Asmodeus himself and he's just so goddamn CHARMING like he'd have me SWEATING AND GIGGLING I'd be straight up embarrassing myself like "o-oh that's not what I expected your voice to sound like hahaha 🥴"

Ozzie assures you the ultra sexy type uniforms are totally optional, and you could be bringing him papers in an oversized t-shirt and crocs and he'd still think you're as cute as can be. But. LORD if you ever decide, "I wanna feel sexy and confident and everyone else is having fun" and wear something sexy. It has him WEAK. Him? Them? Prolly both of them tbh. Like. Ugh I KNOW these two can go from having the freakiest loudest horniest sex imaginable to like giggling and tickling each other in bed and I can just SEE them being SO SOFT for a Reader darling. All your jokes make them laugh or affectionately roll their eyes. They DEVOUR your cooking (I think personal chef/PA Reader would be cute, the boys wake up and you have breakfast ready for them and everything), they're always sending you memes and things that made them think of you, they have a special group chat (of just them) SPECIFICALLY for sharing photos of you or things about you or just, talking about you period. Gosh. Would there be cameras suddenly installed where there wasn't previously just so they can see all the cute things you get up to when they're not around. All the little improv dances and songs... all the times you bend over...

Like the hilarity of Valentino getting absolutely fucking CUCKED when "his" Reader suddenly disappears, and it's because you can travel through the Rings and you work for Ozzie now and Valentino had no idea until he saw a trending photo of you and Ozzie where you guys did a HOT HOT photo shoot together to advertise something, where you're either almost completely naked OR actually ARE completely naked, and it's because Ozzie made you feel safe and protected and unlike Valentino, Asmodeus knows what an intimacy coordinator is-

You can actually go to clubs in those booty shorts with your ass hanging out and wearing whatever else makes you feel sexy and confident now because the second some creep is coming up to you and not taking 'no' for an answer, the creep suddenly has a massive looming shadow over them as an ancient demon turns to you and respectfully asks. "Is this guy bothering you queen?" and then steps on him. In a BAD way :)

GOD ALSO I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THIA INTERACTION UNTIL I SAW THIS GIF AND. Asmodeus' VA previously described his type as "everyone" and he has a BBW on that fountain like 😩❤️ now I'm thinking of chubby reader who's gotten bullied and bodyshamed by Valentino (who is negging you and is actually down SO BAD) and then you run off to Ozzie who's like. "Baby you are GORGEOUS and if anyone ever says or does anything like that to you again, just let me know and I'll break their legs ok ^w^"

((Also. Non yandere related thing im seeing. He's one of the Cardinal Sins and imps are considered the lowest Hellborns and Ozzie not only has an imp lover but TONS of imp staff, like he is a pro body positivity anti racism fucking 👏 K I N G 👏 BANISHED FROM HEAVEN'S DISCORD SERVER FOR BEING TOO HORNY ON MAIN. i bet he would DESPISE that Heaven is discriminating and choosing who's hot, just, ugh i want him carnally (edit: i noticed they're actually all succubi/incubi and not imps but the point still stands lol))

#yandere x reader #yandere helluva boss #yandere hellaverse #hh #hb #sinprompts #ughhhhhh why is he so FINE

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spookyserenades · 11 months

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Trouvaille - Chapter Six

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20.9k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Happy June my darlings! This is an update I've been eager to share with you all for quite some time, and there's a lot that goes on in it. This chapter is tamer in respects to the paranormal, and delves more into interpersonal relationships between the hybrids and Y/N herself. There is indeed another scenting scene in this chapter, which is certainly heated, reader discretion advised! This chapter ends on a critical plot twist and cliffhanger, and I hope you all find it both shocking and entertaining. The taglist is open still (shoot me a message or comment to be added), and as always, I adore hearing back from readers; whether it be questions, reviews, theories, submissions, or gushing over the hybrids together <3 Enjoy, lovelies!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Y/N’s vision only faded to black for mere seconds, feeling like she was floating and the only anchor tethering her to reality were the arms wrapped around her waist. Quivering as she came down from what she could only describe as blissful euphoria, she blinked, eyes focusing on a painting of pink peonies nailed to the wall above Seokjin’s dresser. At once, remembering where she was, she jolted on Seokjin’s warm thighs as he nuzzled his nose against the tender mark he had made, murmuring too quietly for her to make out the words– or was he purring? Y/N’s entire body flushing at her position, straddling the jaguar hybrid’s lap, her arms limply hanging off of his broad shoulders, she squirmed in his arms, his hands fisting in the material of her sweatshirt.

“J-jin?” Y/N breathed, another shiver rolling through her body as Seokjin pressed his face further into the crook of her neck at the sound of his nickname. “Are you alright now?”

Humming in assent against her skin, Seokjin nodded, the damp strands of his blue-black waves tickling her cheek with the movement. Weakly, Y/N chuckled with relief; the image of him curled up on the floor moaning in pain when she returned home frankly scared the wits out of her. Unable to help herself, Y/N reached up to toy with Seokjin’s hair while he exhaled slowly into her neck, her fingers running through the silky waves and carefully avoiding his sensitive ears.

Pulling away from the crook of her neck, Seokjin’s hands dropped from her waist down to her hips lightly, rearing his head back so he could dopily smile at Y/N with his teeth. Overwhelmed by both the action and viewing his gorgeous face from inches away, Y/N swallowed nervously, squeaking when Seokjin squeezed her hips playfully.

“You probably want to shower after your long day out, hmm?” Seokjin mused, cocking his head to the side lazily as he scanned her flustered expression. Biting her lip, she returned his gaze suspiciously.

“Is that you subtly trying to tell me I stink?” Y/N teased, shock settling over Seokjin’s beautiful face.

A growl rumbled from the back of his throat, getting a better hold on her hips as he bent his knees and got to his feet, scooping her up in one graceful moment. Scrambling to get a hold around his muscular neck, Y/N cursed, instinctively hooking her legs around Seokjin’s waist as he began to walk out of his bedroom. Out of the corner of her eye and amongst the overwhelm, she caught her copy of Lord of the Rings laying open on his bed.

“No, you could never stink,” Seokjin insisted, Y/N thankful that he couldn’t see her iron-hot face while he carried her down the stairs. “The water will soothe your marks,” Seokjin continued softly, Y/N not missing the way he had included Namjoon’s bite with his comment.

Thinking of the wolf hybrid sent a strange shock of pain down her spine, Y/N was saddened by the fact that he hadn’t come out of his bedroom to say goodbye to her that morning. She considered the possibility that Namjoon was feeling embarrassed with how he came into her bedroom the previous night, though he had nothing to be bashful about in her book. Even as Seokjin passed by Namjoon’s bedroom door shut-tight, Y/N’s heart sank, somehow knowing he was locked away in there rather than enjoying the last of the sunny afternoon outside.

Once reaching her bedroom, Seokjin gingerly lowered Y/N to her unsteady feet, seemingly reading her conflicted expression. Moving his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, Seokjin offered her a half-smile.

“You’re worried about Namjoon,” Seokjin murmured, his orange eyes flickering to the bruised spot on her neck the wolf hybrid had made, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone comfortingly. Leaning into the touch naturally, Y/N sighed, eyes downcast.

“He’ll come around, don’t worry,” Seokjin encouraged, his voice dulcet as he dropped his hand from her cheek.

Nodding, Y/N perked up a degree, not wanting to make Seokjin uncomfortable with her excess of worry. Perhaps he was right, maybe she was reading too much into Namjoon’s absence– he could have been absorbed in the books and his paranormal theories.

“You’re right, it’s probably best to just leave him be for now,” Y/N agreed, subconsciously brushing her fingers over the wolf hybrid��s bite. To her surprise, the wound was painless, and she was desperate to change the subject under Seokjin’s scrutiny.

“Jesus, it’s already Wednesday evening… I’ve done almost nothing to prepare for the cookout,” she lamented quickly, all at once recalling how her mother had badgered her about place settings earlier in the day.

“We’ll all help out! Yoongi mentioned earlier that he wanted to talk to you about cooking the food, and even Taehyung has expressed some excitement about it out of the blue,” Seokjin grinned, Y/N completely taken aback by how quickly he had recovered from writhing on the floor in pain by simply biting her.

“You guys are Godsends…” Y/N muttered under her breath, thankful that she’d have several pairs of hands to assist her in all of the tasks she had saved to the last minute. “Alright, I’ll wash up and come find you all in a bit. I know you wanted to watch more Masterchef today, so we can do that too.”

Smiling at her fondly at her remembrance, Seokjin nodded once, shyly heading towards her door with his rounded ears fluttering the whole way. Y/N didn’t know where his shyness was coming from all of a sudden, when he had just carried her down the stairs as if she were a sack of flour. Shutting the door behind him, Y/N hurried to the bathroom, steam filling the room as she prodded at both painless marks on her neck.

Snorting at herself in the mirror as she mentally compared them to vampire bites, she thought to do a little more research on the act of scenting itself. At the very least, she could arm herself with information; about potential cues for when hybrids should scent before discomfort, primarily. Thinking back to the stupefying sensation that she felt after each bite, Y/N felt that she should read a forum about that, as well, considering she had no rational explanation as to why that sensation would occur. Stepping into the shower with haste, Y/N scrubbed at her skin harshly, eager to catch up with her hybrids after her day without them.

By Thursday morning, Y/N was hoping that the panic she was experiencing wasn’t registering on her face and filling the room with negative energy. She had a mile-long grocery list after consulting with Yoongi the previous evening about the menu, unable to resist indulging his every whim as he came up with dish ideas. The staircase was still unfinished– Y/N worried it would get scuffed if guests wanted to explore the house and see her newest renovations of the second-floor bedrooms– she had to hit the liquor store for booze and pick out her outfit. Then there was the preparation of the backyard by stacking wood for the fire pit, dragging out chairs to put around it, and cleaning off the picnic table. Additionally, she had to take the hybrids to the mall, forgetting she had scheduled haircuts for them a while back, and she figured they could pick up outfits of their own while they were there.

Stirring her coffee by the slider door in the kitchen, her eyes glazed over as she gazed out at the backyard, wondering why the hell she didn’t move the cookout to the following week after all that had happened recently. Y/N supposed that it was too late to cancel it, Ben already texting her about how eager he was to meet the hybrids in her group chat with him, Laura, and Alice– the other two reacting to his message with emphasized thumbs-ups. The hybrids themselves were practically bouncing off the walls as well, or at least the ones present in the kitchen.

“Yoongi, you’ve been sharpening that knife for five minutes. I think it’s sharp enough now to cut through bone,” Hoseok complained from his seat on the barstool, rubbing his temples as he slumped over his coffee mug, drooped ears and all. Y/N noticed Hoseok wasn’t exactly a morning person over the past few days.

Turning, Y/N watched Yoongi put the knife-sharpening steel down on the granite island, his upper lip curled up in a snarl at the fox hybrid’s comment. She knew Yoongi was secretly anticipating cooking for such a large amount of people; he had even got up early to make several soup stocks in large pots, the herbal concoctions simmering away on the stove. Jeongguk, lounging on the breakfast nook booth, was totally wrapped up in reading something on his phone, his feet kicked up on the seat so no one else could sit with him.

“Yeah? Using a dull knife is a surefire way to A) do more work, and B) slice off a finger,” Yoongi calmly shot back, returning the knife back to the block by the stove.

Hoseok grumbled something Y/N could not hear from her spot by the door, eyeing Jeongguk sideways to see if he was listening to the antics. One of his tapered ears flickered in her direction, though he did not tear his eyes from whatever was holding his attention on his phone. Swirling the remnants of her now-empty mug of coffee, Y/N slouched her way to the carafe, knowing that she’d need to be sufficiently caffeinated to get through her long day.

In the middle of pouring another healthy mug of dark roast, Y/N caught movement from the entrance to the kitchen from the foyer, Taehyung shuffling into the room sleepily in his black hoodie, hands in his pocket and hood pulled over his head, mouth dropped open mid-yawn. Delighted to see him so early, Y/N pulled out an additional mug for the Kodiak hybrid, the one with Sailor Moon on it, filling it generously as Taehyung dragged his feet to her side.

“Morning, Tae,” Y/N greeted gently, the knowledge that he liked the nickname she gave him so much tucked in her back pocket. Nudging her hip with his own, he accepted the mug quickly, adding cream to his coffee with a small smile on his lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Slept well. You?” Taehyung’s sleep-thickened voice struck her like static shock, even while the sleeves of his sweatshirt were slipping over his hands as he sipped his coffee.

“As well as I could, today is pretty packed so I was tossing and turning throughout the night,” Y/N answered truthfully, leaning against the coffee bar as her to-do list haunted her mental space. Humming throatily at her response, Taehyung bent down to face her, trying to get a good look at her face.

“Don’t stress. You have help,” Taehyung replied simply, sending her a wink. Blushing, Y/N nodded, noting how often Taehyung seemed to get in her face these days.

After a drawn-out breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Jimin and Seokjin joining her and the others in the kitchen eventually, Y/N waited by the front door for everyone to get ready to head to the mall. Her spirits were somewhat dampened, considering she had only caught glimpses of Namjoon the previous night sneaking into the kitchen for a package of chips and a water refill, wondering if he’d even bother coming along with her to the mall. Part of her wanted to march into his locked-up bedroom and demand to know what was going on with him, but the larger part of her was still very much intimidated by the wolf hybrid. The longer the stretch of time went on since he had scented her, the more awkward she felt about confronting him again. Still, she ached to see his face, to hear his deep, rich voice responding to her inquiries.

It was another sunny day, the skylight bathing the foyer with dusty sunshine. The house was pretty warm, and Y/N remembered she could turn on the new A/C units since they had been installed the day she picked Namjoon up from the shelter, so she did so promptly to keep her hands busy as they all idled by the door. Adjusting her thin tee shirt uncomfortably, she scanned the grocery list in her other hand as she listened to Hoseok and Seokjin bicker by the stairs.

“Jinnie, you’ve barely put a dent in that book even though you’ve been carrying it around everywhere. Are you trying to pick up girls at the mall?” Hoseok teased, staring pointedly at the copy of Lord of the Rings tucked under Seokjin’s arm.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seokjin spit through his teeth, using his free hand to punch the fox hybrid on the bicep with enough force to send Hoseok stumbling back a step. “I told you to stop calling me ‘Jinnie’, are you becoming hard of hearing?”

Jimin, from beside her, rolled his eyes so hard Y/N was worried they would fall out of his skull, waiting patiently for everyone to arrive by the door so they could leave. Taehyung, too, was leaning against the door with a bored look painted across his features, unimpressed by the noise coming from the two across the room. Jeongguk stomped down the stairs with a heavy tread, eyes still glued to his phone and almost missing the last step before catching himself on the wobbly banister.

She was just waiting on Yoongi and Namjoon, the former bravely knocking on the wolf hybrid’s bedroom door and slipping inside, mentioning that he’d ask Namjoon if he was going to the mall for Y/N, which warmed her heart dangerously. After a few painstaking moments of burning a hole through Namjoon’s door, Yoongi emerged, the wolf hybrid reluctantly in tow. Finally getting a good look at him since he had scented her, Y/N choked on her intake of breath, Namjoon looking better than ever in light wash jeans and a navy tee shirt Y/N had ordered for him.

Thankfully, Jimin had encouraged everyone to the car, Y/N stiffly sliding into the driver’s seat next to Namjoon, who was fastidiously ignoring her by sticking his face into the library copy of Wuthering Heights and his ears flat against his skull. Not exactly expecting such a chilly demeanor from the wolf hybrid, Y/N switched on the radio, doing her best to ignore him right back. It was difficult, an almost gravitational-like pull begging her to reach out and grab a hold of his hand resting on his thigh. Gritting her teeth, Y/N set her navigation for the mall a town over, feeling Taehyung from behind her fiddle with a lock of her hair through the gap of the headrest. She temporarily forgot about the wolf hybrid brooding beside her, Taehyung’s curious touch distracting her as she began to drive down the street.

Forking over a fistful of cash at the Auntie Anne’s counter, Y/N shook her head with amusement as Hoseok noisily slurped a Salted Caramel Chocolate Frost beside her, his tail brushing her leg as it swished back and forth happily. The others were similarly enjoying pretzel dogs, nuggets, and large slushy drinks, clumped around a bench nearby the counter. Taking a bite of her own cinnamon-sugar dusted nuggets, Y/N sat beside Jeongguk on the bench. The elk hybrid had a bit of hot salsa cheese dip on the corner of his mouth, chewing his roasted garlic and parmesan pretzel quite ravenously. Giggling, Y/N wanted to wipe his face for him, but didn’t want to risk the possibility of him running away to the opposite end of the mall.

The mall was fairly empty, considering it was a Thursday afternoon, much to Y/N’s relief. There was still some time before the haircut appointments, Y/N surveying the salon beside a Victoria’s Secret several yards away. Munching thoughtfully, Y/N considered buying some new undergarments while everyone was getting their hair done, but shivered at the thought of any of them catching her pick out panties. A hand snuck in between her and Jeongguk, a pinched-off piece of a classic pretzel being waved in her face. Craning her neck upwards, Seokjin offered her a goofy, affectionate grin as Y/N accepted the piece from his fingertips, trading it with one of her cinnamon-sugar nuggets.

“So, your appointments are in about ten minutes, I suppose I should check you all in,” Y/N tossed her empty pretzel cup into a garbage can by the mall fountain, accidentally interrupting a conversation between Yoongi and Jimin while they sat on the ledge of the fountain. Both hybrid’s ears perked up at the sound of her voice cutely. “Where the hell did Namjoon go,” Y/N muttered, scanning the immediate area for the wolf hybrid.

Tapping her shoulder lightly, Taehyung pointed a little ways away from the pretzel counter, Y/N spotting Namjoon reading the mall directory map while sipping on his lemonade. Without Y/N saying anything to him, Taehyung took off in Namjoon’s direction, and after several moments the wolf hybrid followed the former towards the salon with great distaste painting his features. Namjoon really seemed to dislike Taehyung, Y/N thought. The others trailing behind her into the humid salon like students to a teacher on a field trip, Y/N caught Hoseok sniffing the hairspray-scented air with a slightly nervous expression.

The young woman working at the reception desk assessed the large number of people crowding her waiting area with poorly disguised shock, scrambling for the appointment book.

“Good afternoon, I’m sorry… Did you make an online appointment? And for whom?” The woman pulled her eyebrows together, squinting at the appointment book with a flush settling over her cheeks.

“Stacy, you have to start recording the online appointment requests in the book. It’s a good thing all of the stylists can check the online bookings too. These are the seven hybrid cuts, the appointment was made over the weekend,” A tough-looking woman came around the corner leading into the main part of a salon, her rockstar-style pixie cut dyed a vibrant purple. Spluttering, too busy staring at Taehyung beside Y/N unabashedly, Stacy didn’t seem to hear the other woman.

“Mm-hmm. I’ll start doing that,” Stacy responded dreamily, moving on to ogle at Seokjin with equal admiration.

Grinding her teeth, Y/N watched the woman with the purple hair, presumably a stylist judging by the apron tied around her waist, roll her eyes at Stacy. Y/N knew all of her hybrids were extremely handsome, but something about Stacy’s excessive coyness all of a sudden bothered her, even when she offered them all coffee sweetly.

“Alright gentlemen. All of the stylists are ready, we scheduled a good block of time to do your cuts since we didn’t have too many details about styles on the form. Fault of the form, of course, not you, hun,” the purple-haired woman assured Y/N quickly. “We really need a new online system. I’m Karlie, by the way.”

“Karlie, nice to meet you. Is it alright if I mill around the mall while they’re here?” Y/N asked, not keen on cramming her ass into one of the stiff-looking plastic chairs in the waiting room for an extended period of time. She also had a side mission: looking around for gifts for both Jeongguk and Namjoon’s upcoming birthdays.

“Go right ahead, we’ll send them on their way once they’re done and I’ll shoot you a text, since you’ve already paid for the cuts online beforehand. I’m sure they’ll be able to find you,” Karlie waved her hand, motioning for Jimin, who was closest to her, to shuffle into the main room of the salon. Jimin stalled, staring at Y/N with wide eyes.

Each hybrid looked a tad bewildered that Y/N was leaving them there, Karlie and Stacy giving them a moment in the waiting room before their appointments. Even steely Namjoon had his jaw set in trepidation, looking entirely out of place in the flowery salon.

“I’ll stay on the first floor, so you won’t have to worry about me straying too far from the salon here. It’ll be nice, I promise– they’re all trained to work with hybrid’s hair, you’ll feel fresh and relaxed after. I think they do hot towel treatments here, I read it online,” Y/N patted Jimin’s back gently, trying her best to comfort them all earnestly. “And afterwards you guys should pick out some clothes, too. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to get things in your own styles.”

“Ready, gentlemen?” Karlie popped her head around the corner, Y/N getting the feeling she was listening in the whole time. “You’re in good hands, several of the stylists themselves have hybrids at home.”

Still looking somewhat unconvinced, Y/N watched her seven hybrids disappear around the corner into the salon’s main room, Karlie attempting to make small talk with Jeongguk cheerily. Rocking on her heels, Y/N felt remorseful as an intrusive thought popped into her head– perhaps they thought she was going to ditch them at the salon and return home without them. Of course, that would never happen in a million years; Y/N already couldn’t picture her life and future without any of them in it.

Circling the first floor a couple of times in search of a store to look for gifts, Y/N mumbled to herself, nothing quite striking her as uniquely Jeongguk or Namjoon. She put down the pack of sparkly silver earrings that caught her eye for Jeongguk in an accessory store, deciding they were a bit too flashy for him. Usually, she was quite good at picking out birthday gifts for her loved ones, but the two she was shopping for at the moment were tough nuts to crack.

She found herself in a shoe store across from the salon, searching for a new pair of slippers for herself since her current pair had a hole by the big toe. Waiting for the sales clerk to ring up the pair she selected, Y/N checked her watch, not believing such a little amount of time had passed. It was startling how much she missed the hybrids even after less than a half hour, Y/N trying to peer into the large door of the salon as if she’d be able to catch a glimpse of them. All she saw was Stacy at the desk, talking on the phone and twirling a lock of glossy brunette hair around her finger.

Swinging the bag with her slippers around in her hand, Y/N strolled into the bookstore one door down from the shoe store, hoping she could pick up something in there for Namjoon at the very least. Unsurprisingly, as she had zero impulse control in a bookstore, Y/N filled up her basket at lightning speed. Towards the back of the store, Y/N located the slim shelf with the occult books, sliding her finger along the spines as she read the titles. She had many of the books, but some of the titles were from new occult authors she had never heard of before. Scooping up a thin paperback of protection spells, Y/N promptly dropped it into her basket without much of a thought. She picked out a couple other occult books she thought Jeongguk and Namjoon might like– The Paranormal Investigative Field Guide and Spirits, Entities, and Cryptids: a Comprehensive Collection of the Supernatural.

Inching towards the journals, Y/N spotted a beautiful black leather one sitting on the shelf, with carved filigree on the front and an elegant clasp to keep it shut. The paper was almost linen-like in texture, the whole journal practically screaming Jeongguk, whose current journal was looking a little worse for wear. Grinning to herself, Y/N selected a set of inky pens to go with it, happy with her choices so far. She was thinking about heading to the electronics store the following week for a video camera, thinking a whole “paranormal investigation” theme for the elk hybrid would be perfect for him.

As for Namjoon, with just one book for him in her basket, Y/N knew she’d have to think about what else to get him for a few more days. She simply didn’t know enough about him yet, she concluded, with a pang of sadness. Part of her wanted to call her mother for any ideas, but didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of hearing Y/N admit she knew less about her hybrid than she did. The thought of her mother bragging about how wonderful the wolf hybrid was, or scolding Y/N for not being more observant of Namjoon’s interests, sent a shiver down her spine.

After having the cashier carefully wrap up the books, Y/N lugged the heavy bag to her car, moving as quickly as she could from the parking lot back into the first floor of the mall, praying that none of them had been looking for her within the five minutes she had popped out. Settling a palm over her racing heart, Y/N checked her phone for any messages from Karlie, discovering nothing from the stylist, but instead a single text from Hoseok.

Curiously, Y/N tapped on the notification, snorting loudly at the attached image the fox hybrid sent. It was a somewhat-blurry candid of Jeongguk, sitting grumpily in a styling chair with a cape velcroed around his neck, under a hair dryer with a shower cap stretched over his conditioner-caked hair. The shower cap had several holes cut into it to accommodate his antlers and ears, his eyes downcast as he stared at his phone with clear annoyance. Saving the image, Y/N sent Hoseok back several laughing emojis, amused that the hybrids were getting so pampered at the salon. It made her want to return to Stacy at the front desk to schedule a haircut for herself.

Trying to find a comfortable place to sit for a bit, Y/N wandered by the food court, spotting a new boutique that must have opened recently, boasting an end-of-summer sale on a window sign. Intrigued, Y/N breezed into the store, the bright interior still holding a lingering paint smell in the air. Leafing through the sales rack, Y/N stopped at a beautiful lavender sundress marked half off. Pulling it off the rack, Y/N admired the simplicity of the patternless fabric. Likely falling mid-thigh, the waist fitted and skirt flared out, the dress was held up by spaghetti straps and had a sweetheart neckline with ruching and a bow holding the fabric across the bust together. Delighted, the tag reading that it was, in fact, her size, the material wispy and soft, Y/N knew she had found her outfit for the cookout, having the perfect sandals at home to go with the dress.

With her outfit in hand, Y/N’s spirits were soaring, finally looking forward to having an opportunity to dress up and have fun with all of her friends. Perhaps she was being a little bit cynical earlier in the day dwelling on all of the things she had to accomplish before she could enjoy herself at the cookout, but as Taehyung had said, she now had help.

Sitting at a large table in the food court by herself, Y/N gently set down the two trays of boba milk tea she was able to score from the counter that usually had a line wrapped around the food court. Again, part of her felt like she wasn’t really encouraging healthy choices as far as food and beverage, but she wanted to get the hybrids an extra treat for enduring such a lengthy appointment while she twirled around the mall by herself.

Scrolling through her Twitter feed, Y/N hummed to herself, simultaneously stabbing the wide straw through her boba lid. Her phone buzzed in her hand while she watched some sort of mindless Tik Tok on kitchen organization, grumbling as she opened up the message. It was Karlie, letting her know that a couple of her hybrids were all set and on their way. Straightening up in her seat, Y/N scanned her surroundings, trying to remember what everyone was wearing as she squinted at a passing group of elderly women power walking in sneakers. As she drummed her fingers against the table, Y/N checked her watch– over an hour had passed since she had left them at the salon. She wondered if they’d return with highlights, with all that time.

“Y/N, my darling! There you are, did you get me another sugary drink? Is this your way of apologizing for subjecting me to an hour of hairspray inhalation?” Hoseok’s loud voice came from her right, Y/N whipping her head around as he slid into the booth next to her with a wry grin on his face.

His mahogany hair was neatly trimmed now, cropped in the back and around the sides in a sort of bowl-cut manner, his waves parted down the middle and gleaming brilliantly even under the unflattering fluorescent lighting of the mall. Her mouth had dropped open to accuse him of teasing her again, but her tongue turned to stone now that she could see his face so clearly. Winking at her speechlessness, Hoseok pried one of the boba cups out of the paper tray, diving in promptly. The metal screech of the chair across from her had her squeaking, tearing her eyes from Hoseok to land on Yoongi standing over them, eyes narrowed at Hoseok with peevishness.

“Stop bitching. I was sure you were going to start moaning when they put that hot towel over your head, Foxy,” Yoongi countered, his silky black hair still long and beautiful, but the sides above his human set of ears were shaved neatly, offering a more edgy look than when it was entirely overgrown.

“Are you picking a fight with me Yoongi?” Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, though didn’t seem particularly bothered by Yoongi’s comment. Hoseok, Y/N had noticed, tended to let things glide right off his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yoongi scoffed, tilting his head contemplatively as he accepted a cup from Y/N.

Y/N caught his eyes zeroing in on the sides of her neck as she leaned away from him, where the lilac bruises were watercoloring the skin where Namjoon and Seokjin had scented her. Flushing violently, Y/N tried to maintain eye contact with the leopard hybrid, his irises like a kaleidoscope of greens and golds, and it was hard to dissect the thoughts behind them.

“So it went well? Any hiccups?” Y/N cleared her throat, breaking her eyes away from Yoongi’s feline stare with difficulty by swirling around the boba in her cup.

“You mean, did anyone cause a scene? No,” Hoseok replied through a mouthful of tapioca pearls.

“Come on, Hoseok, you’re putting words in my mouth,” Y/N nudged him with her shoulder softly, though he did see right through her pretty accurately. “I was wondering more along the lines of if anyone ended up with a shitty haircut.”

“I don’t know about that. Jeongguk got some weird shaved style, but I guess it’s all about preferences. My tastes are more classic,” Hoseok puffed out his chest, always taking an opportunity to make fun of the elk hybrid when he could.

“Yeah, Foxy. The salad bowl cut is very classy,” Yoongi teased, crossing his arms over his hoodie-clad chest. Hoseok called Yoongi ‘Fabio’ under his breath, Y/N’s head spinning as she tried to keep up with the antics.

“Oh, Seokjin is close by,” Hoseok perked up, chin tilted towards to the right as he gazed off into the distance. Brow cocked, Y/N tried to see whatever it was that he could, but only caught a glimpse of the elderly women lapping around the first floor again.

“Jimin and Taehyung, too,” Yoongi added, his tone disinterested as he picked at his nails.

“How do you kn–” Y/N began, Yoongi chuckling at her, making the words die on her tongue before she could finish.

“Their scents, silly girl. How do you think we found you, in the first place?” Yoongi drawled, a smirk pulling the corner of his mouth. Appalled, Y/N gawked at Yoongi with disbelief, wondering when he had gotten so bold. She preferred when she made him flustered.

“Stop teasing her, Yoongi, she got you a drink, after all,” Hoseok chided distractedly before waving his hands in the air enthusiastically, spotting Seokjin several feet away with Jimin and Taehyung in tow. Pot calling kettle, Y/N thought with minor amusement.

From where she was sitting, it appeared that Seokjin had gotten a very similar haircut to Hoseok, though his curls were tighter than the fox hybrid’s and his bangs were longer, skimming right under his eyebrows. He hurried over to the table once he saw Hoseok’s exaggerated arm flailing, Y/N placing the bag with her new sundress on the floor to clear the spot on her other side. Seokjin predictably slid into the booth as soon as it was vacated, bringing a light floral scent coming from his hair when he shook it out with a content sigh.

Jimin was next to arrive at the table, Y/N hoping her eyes weren’t bugging out of her head when he smiled at her brightly, his honey-blonde hair cropped short neatly and styled in a slicked back way, a single strand falling on his forehead like Clark Kent. Nearly choking on a tapioca pearl, Y/N couldn’t believe how much Jimin looked like a model, the entirety of his sculpted face perfectly visible now. She felt Hoseok’s shoulders shaking with laughter next to her, which she actively ignored when Taehyung took his seat beside Yoongi.

“What is this?” Taehyung asked curiously, inspecting the drink Yoongi passed to him warily. “What’s the stuff at the bottom?”

Taehyung cocked his head at Y/N, apparently speaking to her, his curly dark hair bouncy and trimmed now to frame his face, the bulk of it that clung around his neck shaved to expose the elegant column of it. Even his ears were more visible now, they were rounded and small, and it made her want to squeal upon seeing them. Y/N was completely overwhelmed; perhaps she should have just allowed the hybrids to walk around like mountain men now that she saw them with runway styles.

“It’s milk tea. The stuff at the bottom is tapioca pearls, they’re soaked in a sweet syrup, I think you’ll like it,” Y/N answered as succinctly as she could, cringing as she watched him try to peel the plastic off the top of the cup.

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi snatched the cup away again, stabbing a straw into the plastic lid for Taehyung before returning it like an impatient parent. The whole table watched the Kodiak hybrid take a tentative sip, his garnet eyes narrowing at the taste contemplatively. Y/N gave him a thumbs-up, which he returned after a moment, draining the cup about a quarter of the way– she thought it was safe to say he was enjoying it.

“The other two are almost done, Miss Y/N. I think it was a little difficult for the stylist doing Jeongguk’s hair to navigate around his antlers and piercings,” Jimin volunteered helpfully after a few beats, leaning back in his chair comfortably. Hoseok nodded in agreement, a smirk ghosting his lips as he processed Jimin’s subtle condescending tone towards the elk hybrid.

“Okay, as soon as they get here we’ll head up to the second floor. There’s a huge hybrid clothes store up there– so you all can pick out clothes for yourselves, you know, express your personalities and whatnot,” Y/N fiddled with her straw while she spoke, trying to conjure up images in her mind of what styles they might all gravitate to.

“I already have more clothes than I’ve ever had,” Seokjin started to giggle from beside her, apparently making a joke. Trying not to react to another clue into Seokjin’s past, reminded of his time at the shitty circus company he had been sold to, Y/N shook her head sadly.

“Jin, I’ll help you pick out some things. You definitely don’t strike me as someone with a developed fashion taste,” Hoseok reached behind Y/N’s back to pat Seokjin’s shoulder with excessive force, the jaguar hybrid grumbling with agitation.

“Do they have shoes? I’m probably going to need some boots when I work outside…” Jimin traced a fingertip over his chin in thought, one of his sandy ears twitching.

“They do, but if you don’t find anything you like, there are other shoe stores around,” Y/N replied, noticing that Yoongi’s ears had perked up in the same direction as Jimin’s. She had a feeling Namjoon and Jeongguk were due at the table at any moment.

“Here come the gray clouds,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, Y/N resisting the urge to kick his shin from under the table.

Y/N placed her hands on Hoseok’s arm to push him out of the booth so they could get a move on, keeping in mind that they still had to hit the grocery and liquor stores before they went home. Hoseok leaned into her touch, grinning cheekily as he hauled himself off the vinyl seat, Seokjin graciously handing Y/N her almost forgotten shopping bag containing her new sundress.

As she turned around after thanking Seokjin, Y/N almost slammed face-first into a broad chest directly behind her, stumbling backwards to prevent the collision somewhat inelegantly. Reeling, Y/N registered Namjoon in front of her, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. His ears were turned downwards against his skull, his silvery strands swept up to reveal his forehead for the first time with the shorter cut he had opted for. Dazzled, Y/N forgot all about how he had been ignoring her, a stupid smile stretching across her face as she took in how lovely the wolf hybrid was.

“Hi Namjoon,” Y/N offered him one of the final milk teas with a cheerful expression, encouraged when he took it without hesitation, craning her neck to peer around his shoulder to greet Jeongguk.

The elk hybrid, looking the most dramatically different compared to when he had arrived at the mall with a head of shoulder-length shaggy hair, appeared both a touch exasperated but mostly smug. The sides of his head were shaved into an undercut, the tops and back of the style maintaining some of the length of his chestnut locks. The style almost emphasized the way his antlers encircled his head like a crown, Y/N barely even recognizing him with the shiny gel holding the strands in place– he was holding a jar of gel in his hand that he had purchased from the salon.

Holding out her bag with her sundress in it, Y/N urged Jeongguk to drop the jar inside of it, trying her best not to shrivel up under his cocky, confident expression directed right at her. Luckily, Jimin extended an olive branch by giving the elk hybrid the last milk tea, and they were all on their way to the second floor without much fuss.

“My stylist was so nice. She told me she had a calico cat hybrid at home, named Ruby,” Seokjin, from his spot in front of her on the escalator, announced. “She said I had ‘pretty eyes’.”

Chuckling, stepping off of the escalator with care, Y/N took the chance to admire Seokjin’s vibrant orange eyes rimmed with thick black lashes in appreciation. His stylist wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, it was actually relaxing. I didn’t know what to expect, at first. I thought she was just going to shave my head,” Yoongi commented, his fingertips brushing Y/N’s wrist as she led the way to Hybrid Outfitters. “My old barber on the North End never listened to me. I always walked out of there with something crazy… he was like eighty, not like I could say anything to him.”

Reaching the front of the store, Y/N scratched her head, making sure everyone was present. Growing hot all over, she felt like she needed to check the original appointment booking to see if she had over generously tipped considering how beautiful all of their haircuts had turned out. Swallowing hard, Y/N shifted from one foot to another as they walked into the shop in one big huddle. Everyone was looking at her expectantly when she didn’t tell them to split up, her nerves getting the best of her as she revealed part of her inner monologue impulsively.

“All I can say is… you all look very handsome,” Y/N blurted, half wanting to pay a compliment and half unable to hold herself back. “Go ahead and pick out anything you like, I’ll just hang out near the fitting rooms!”

Cringing from her lack of a filter, she sped further into the store without waiting for the hybrid’s reactions to her comment. Thankful that none of them had chased after her, Y/N let out a ragged sigh as she sunk into the worn cushions of the sofa next to the fitting rooms. Gritting her teeth, she glued her eyes to her phone to temper her embarassment, trying to read the long thread of messages in the groupchat that she had missed.

Ben Alpin: Just picked up the cupcakes. The boxes barely fit in the back of the Lexus

Alice Santos: Is it necessary to mention the fact that your car is a Lexus each time you’re in it

Ben Alpin: Yes, it’s in the manual

Laura Santos: I picked up some outdoor toys for Kai and Daisy today, bubbles and chalk mostly. Y/N, do you still have that kiddie pool in the garage?

Ben Alpin: Laura, you’re an angel!

Alice Santos: That kiddie pool must be from WWI, didn’t we throw it out when we helped clear out your grandma’s hoard of old shit?

Ben Alpin: It has Barney on it, for Christ’s sake Al. It can’t be older than me

Y/N: I think it’s still in the garage, I’ll check when I’m back at home. Took the hybrids out for some new clothes, and to help with the grocery shopping

Alice Santos: Oh, so you haven’t been killed by the seven men living in your house?

Laura Santos: Al, tone it down!!!

Y/N: NO!! I told you, they’re sweethearts. See for yourself tomorrow. BTW – they heard the whole phone call from the other day :(

Ben Alpin: Did you guys have another Facetime without me

Alice Santos: Yes

Laura Santos: I’m sure they knew we were just concerned, Y/N!

Y/N: That’s what I explained to one of them. He has a bit of a penchant for interrogation

Ben Alpin: We don’t even know their names yet, care to enlighten

Laura Santos: Or what TYPES of hybrids they are! Ben told me they were ‘exotics’ ??

Taking a deep breath and crossing her legs, Y/N tried her best to keep up with the constant stream of text messages rolling in, deciding it was only fair to give her friends a little bit of background instead of having them come to the cookout flying blind.

Y/N: Ok, ok

Alice Santos: ???

Y/N: There’s Seokjin, a jaguar hybrid, Taehyung who’s a Kodiak bear. Hoseok, a red fox, and Jimin is a coyote hybrid

Ben Alpin: Holy shit. Like those giant bears from Alaska???

Alice Santos: Which one has the ‘penchant for interrogation’

Y/N: That’s Namjoon, he’s a Northwestern wolf hybrid.

Laura Santos: And the other two?

Y/N: The youngest, who’s about the same age as me and you girls, is Jeongguk. He’s an elk hybrid. The last is Yoongi and he’s a leopard hybrid… though I swear, I feel like I’ve met Yoongi before, it’s the strangest thing. He used to work at some bar under the table in Boston before I adopted him

Ben Alpin: Maybe you tried slipping him your number during a blackout bar-tour one Friday night in grad school. You DO love your cute bartenders

Laura Santos: LOL very possible for her

“Y/N? Does this look alright?” A quiet voice in front of her distracted Y/N from sending an expletive response to Ben’s dig at her.

Looking up, Taehyung was standing next to a fitting room, trying on silky ruby colored short-sleeved button down and a pair of baggy black cargo pants, his fingertips tugging on the hemline of his shirt contemplatively. Clearing her throat awkwardly, Y/N got to her feet, approaching Taehyung, motioning with a finger to have him turn in a circle. He did so obediently, holding his arms out wide, a playful smile on his lips as Y/N assessed the look.

“Looks very nice. Maybe tuck in the front of the shirt into your pants? Do the pants fit right, or are they too big?” Y/N tilted her head, wondering if they sold belts.

“No, they’re supposed to be loose. Should I wear this tomorrow?” Taehyung tucked in his shirt as she suggested, casting a look into one of the full-length mirrors behind him.

“Yeah, why not? That shirt brings out the pretty red in your eyes,” Y/N replied, ignoring her phone buzzing a hole into the back pocket of her jean shorts.

“Pretty!” Taehyung exclaimed, surprise coloring his features as he turned back to stare at Y/N with shock. “You’re bold today, aren’t you?”

Placing her hands on her hips, Y/N shook her head, unable to deny the accusation.

“Just speaking my mind. It’s not like I can lie to you all, now that I know you can sniff it out,” Y/N teased, poking him on his shoulder with a smile. Taehyung was fun to tease; his cheeks flushed brilliantly and it was an opportunity to see his cute toothy smile.

“That’s right. No more secret-keeping for you,” Taehyung leaned down to level his face with her’s, Y/N almost rearing back before Taehyung poked the fleshy apple of her cheek in retaliation. “I have a few more things to try on. You should help the wolf, he looks lost.”

Spluttering, she watched Taehyung’s shoulders shake as he turned and disappeared into his fitting room, shutting the door behind him and leaving Y/N to place a hand over where his fingertip had been. Remembering she was in public,Y/N frantically made sure no one was staring at her, spotting Hoseok holding up a thin sweater against Seokjin’s chest with a contemplative cocked brow towards the front of the store. Nearby, Jeongguk was sifting through a pile of black tee-shirts on a table.

Trying to locate Namjoon, Y/N weaved her way further into the store, waving to Jimin and Yoongi by the jeans, finally finding the wolf hybrid by the sales racks at the back of the store. Humming, Y/N watched Namjoon’s ear twitch while his back was turned to her, Y/N running her fingertips over a caramel-colored crew neck sweater, the thread impossibly soft. Plucking it off the rack, Y/N held it up, noting that it was in Namjoon’s size.

“This would look nice on you,” Y/N commented nonchalantly, watching the wolf hybrid’s shoulders stiffen out of the corner of her eye.

At a glacial pace, he shuffled over to her, assessing the sweater with narrowed eyes. Reaching out to grasp one of the sleeves, he ran a thumb over the material, his eyebrows lifting in what Y/N perceived to be consideration.

“It’s my size,” Namjoon mumbled, taking the sweater from her gingerly. “How did you know?”

“I pretty much have all of your sizes memorized. They were on your information sheets back at the shelter, and I wrote them down on my phone so I could place that online order of clothes over the weekend,” Y/N explained, brushing off the fact that Namjoon’s tone was on the side of accusatory. Namjoon grunted in response, returning to pawing through the section with his sizes, seemingly gravitating towards earth tones as he piled up a couple of items in his arm.

Y/N suggested a few more items, and Namjoon surprisingly accepted each one, though he didn’t reply to her verbally any further. It was like she was back to having a one-sided conversation with him in the shelter while he was still shifted into wolf form, Y/N feeling remorse flood through her body. She thought she had been making progress with cracking through his tough exterior, but it seemed they had taken one step forward and two steps back. She missed his insightful responses to her questions, and most painfully of all, she noted that he took extra care to avoid physical contact with her– always standing a good two feet away from her proximity.

After a while, Yoongi and Jimin sought her out after paying for their clothes, each with large bags swinging from the crooks of their elbows. Thankful to have two hybrids that actually wanted to speak to her, Y/N watched Namjoon make his escape to the checkout line, where all of the others were waiting to pay for their armfuls of clothing.

“Did you find some boots Jimin?” Y/N asked the coyote hybrid, walking between him and Yoongi, to wait outside of the store for the others. Yoongi was so close to her, she could feel his body heat as the three of them leaned against the railing overlooking the first floor of the mall.

“I did, they had some real nice ones, too. They’re not roper boots, but they’ll do,” Jimin shook one of his shopping bags lightly, his closed-lip smile making his eyes scrunch up into slits.

“That’s good! And you both found some clothes, that makes me happy,” Y/N sighed, muscles melting into the metal railing they were leaning against. Her back was killing her, and her day wasn’t even halfway over. “Two more stops to make, the grocery and liquor stores. Then we can go home.”

Yoongi inched even closer to her, if that was even possible, as she spoke. Eyeing him, she watched him pick his nails again, noting he was particularly fidgety that afternoon, as well as sharper of tongue. Thinking that it would be wise to do her extensive research on scenting later, Y/N wondered if Yoongi was beginning to feel the discomfort of not doing so. Leaning her shoulder into his upper arm, Yoongi looked down at her curiously, a strand of his inky hair falling forward into his face.

“Our piano lesson is tomorrow,” Y/N reminded him excitedly, enjoying the soft smile that bloomed across his face. “You think we’ll be able to squeeze it in between cooking and the actual cookout?”

“For sure. I’ll just teach you some basics to get a foundation, after we get some of the prep done for the food. We’ll do the lesson earlier in the morning, after breakfast,” Yoongi replied after a few moments, drumming his fingertips along the metal banister of the railing. “I’m sure if you delegate certain tasks to the other guys, they’d be more than happy to help out. Hey Jimin, can you chop wood?”

Jimin made a choked noise, his reverie of watching a clump of young children race each other on the first floor interrupted, apparently not listening.

“I can,” a voice from behind had the three leaning against the banner turn, Taehyung emerging from the store with his lengthy receipt and three shopping bags. “That was pretty much my whole job before I got here.”

“There you go. Taehyung, won’t you help Y/N with the firewood for that old firepit in the backyard?” Yoongi urged, Y/N shrinking in embarrassment against Yoongi’s arm as Taehyung’s eyes shifted from her to the leopard hybrid with confusion.

“Of course,” Taehyung returned without hesitation, stiffening as Hoseok and Seokjin appeared, flanking his either side.

Embarrassed to even ask for help in the first place, Y/N wanted to step on Yoongi’s foot when he asked Taehyung to perform a task for her, even though she knew the leopard hybrid was trying to get everything to run smoothly for the next day’s event. She refrained from stamping down on his toes as she stared at the floor, not wanting to risk him backing out of teaching her piano in the morning. Most of all, Y/N didn’t miss the way Taehyung had accidentally given her a clue into his past workplace, making her wonder when exactly she’d learn more intimate details.

When Jeongguk and Namjoon finally joined the rest of them, Y/N chatted with Jimin and Hoseok on the way back to the car about some of the guests they’d be meeting. She summed up the list of people as best she could, glaring at a middle-aged woman rudely gawking at the group of them in a judgemental manner in the parking lot. Catching the interaction, Hoseok gave her a gentle pat on the back, his lips pressed into a ‘what are you going to do?’ smile, opening her car door for her.

Clambering in, she thanked Hoseok as he gently shut the door, starting up the car as everyone piled in. Once again, Namjoon returned to his book beside her, though Y/N could feel his eyes on her every so often as she drove to the grocery store. One step forward, two steps back.

The rest of Thursday passed by in a whirlwind. Grocery shopping was a breeze with eight people to scatter around the store for specific items, and hauling crates of liquor into the house was even easier– no one allowed her to carry in a single bag, apart from a carton of eggs. Taehyung and Jimin immediately went to the backyard with the keys for the garage, milling back and forth with lawn furniture, wood from the woodshed, and axes.

After a while, Namjoon went outside to help with the furniture and hosing off the picnic table with Jimin to avoid too much contact with Taehyung, only after reading a large chunk of Wuthering Heights in the breakfast nook. To her great astonishment, Namjoon must have been listening to her talking about dragging the kiddie pool out from the garage on the way home, settling it on the grass and filling it with the hose. After Y/N watched them for a bit, Hoseok and Seokjin volunteered to help her with applying a quick-drying varnish to the staircase. She was hoping that it would dry before those who slept on the second floor went up to bed.

Y/N spent the evening with most of the hybrids in the kitchen, eating leftovers, prepping vegetables with Yoongi and and to her great surprise, Jeongguk. Somewhat begrudgingly, the elk hybrid offered to scrub potatoes. Y/N was merry, enjoying her company while they listened to a playlist Hoseok created on the portable speaker she couldn’t locate earlier in the week; she found out he had it in the basement the whole time. Everything she was worried about that morning had pretty much been taken care of, Yoongi’s methodical approach to prepping and cooking leading her to believe they’d be enjoying themselves outside with the guests the next day sooner than she thought.

On Friday morning, Y/N woke up with the sun. Nerves awoke her more than anything, but the promise of Yoongi’s piano lesson after breakfast brightened her mood significantly. After her shower, Y/N shimmied into her new sundress, shocked to see how good it looked on her in the full-length mirror as she did a little twirl. Taking some extra time to style her hair to cover the fading injury on her forehead and apply some makeup, Y/N grinned at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection staring back. It had been a while since she dolled herself up, between long hours at the veterinarian hospital and lazy weekends spent renovating. Slipping on her sandals clumsily while she fastened earrings into her lobes, Y/N gave herself a spritz with a light perfume before skipping out of her bedroom.

Noises in the kitchen gave away the fact that she was not the first one up and about, even Namjoon’s bedroom door wide open and empty as she passed by. The cookout wasn’t until 12:30, but apparently the hybrids were keen on getting an early start, as Y/N heard Hoseok’s cheerful whistling from the kitchen. The third beautiful day– weather wise– in a row, Y/N enjoyed the light flooding into the house, following the scent of toasted everything bagels to the kitchen.

To her great surprise, everyone was already in the kitchen still dressed in pajamas, the chaos of seven different male voices clashing at once. None of them seemed to notice her as she hesitated at the threshold of the kitchen, Seokjin and Hoseok arguing loudly by the toaster oven, Yoongi by the stove with Jimin lurking behind, and everyone else glued to their phones at the breakfast nook.

“Morning!” Y/N waltzed into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee bar.

Immediately, all noise ceased in the room, Y/N cringing as a loud clatter of a knife was dropped onto the granite countertop cut the sudden silence. Hand stilling against the coffee carafe, she turned abruptly, trying to make sure no one lobbed off a finger. Heart plummeting to her stomach, the blood drained from her face as Y/N was met with seven pairs of eyes boring holes into her in various expressions of astonishment, each hybrid frozen in space like they were carved from marble. As if she was transported back into high school, Y/N wondered if the skirt of her dress was tucked into her panties, her fingertips brushing the circumference of the hemline automatically. Clearly not the issue, as she felt the skirt flow freely against the tops of her thighs, Y/N chuckled nervously.

“What?” She blurted, feeling extremely self-conscious that all seven of them were staring at her so intensely, tugging on the material of the sundress. “Oh fuck, is the dress hideous? I thought I had decent taste without Ben being there to help me, Jesus. I should have sent him a picture before I bought it.”

Scrambling for the dropped knife, Yoongi attempted to resume chopping the mound of peeled potatoes beside him, Hoseok hissing by the toaster oven as his hand landed on the hot grates of the rack. Several voices piped up at once in the meantime, frantically.

“N-no, it’s pretty–” Jimin started hoarsely, fumbling with the potato peeler he was gripping with white knuckles.

“Who’s Ben?” Came Taehyung’s voice urgently from the breakfast nook simultaneously.

“You look beautiful,” Seokjin blurted from the toaster, all three responses taking her off-guard.

Forgetting about the coffee, Y/N felt her confidence bump up exponentially, standing up a bit straighter. Namjoon’s library book was dropped clumsily by his feet, finally making widened eye-contact with her for the first time since the night he scented her, his mouth dropped open a fraction. Even Jeongguk’s dark eyes trailed her form from head to toe, not unlike when he had assessed her the day she had picked him up from the shelter.

“Stop r-really– I mean, thank you,” Y/N corrected herself, reminded of her mother scolding her for not accepting compliments. “I guess I forgot to tell you about Ben, universe forgive me. He’s been my best friend since we were kids, and he’s actually the reason I came to adopt you all in the first place. I went with him and his fiance to adopt their daughter Daisy the night I found you guys at Gerry’s,” Y/N explained, attempting to pour herself coffee normally in order to distract herself from being watched so closely.

Wanting to break up whatever energy that had manifested with her arrival in the kitchen, Y/N brought her coffee mug over to Yoongi’s free side, balking at all the work he had already done. It was still so early in the morning, but she felt like she had overslept, seeing that Yoongi had already made two vegetable sides and had a chili simmering away on the stove.

“Yoongi, did you get up at three or something? I’m not going to have anything to do at this point!” Y/N complained, her lower lip jutting out as she realized the leopard hybrid had already made the salad dressing recipe she showed him on her phone the day before, the jar sitting on the island all sealed up.

“I got up once I heard your shower running,” Clearing his throat roughly, Yoongi trained his eyes on the potato he was cutting, the knife shaking with his unsteady grip.

Nodding, Y/N bent low, trying to catch the leopard hybrid’s eyes to convey a sense of gratitude playfully, but he remained stonily focused on his task. Growing uncomfortable with the eerie silence in the kitchen, Y/N began to nervously hum to herself while starting on a fruit salad, picking up a strawberry draining in the colander in the sink and cutting it on a smaller board next to Yoongi.

“Hoseok, is your hand alright, honey? Do you need some burn cream?” Y/N paused her strawberry-slicing, the fox hybrid looking like a deer in headlights as she addressed him.

“Oh, uh no thanks, I’m fine,” Hoseok answered, his voice a pitch higher than normal as he inspected his left hand.

“Okay, good. Why don’t you put that playlist back on, I really liked it,” Y/N scraped a pile of sliced strawberries into a large bowl with the flat of her knife, hoping that a bit of music would cut the tension.

Maybe they didn’t like her perfume, or she had interrupted an important conversation by her arrival in the kitchen? Whatever it was, each and every one of them were behaving strangely; even Jeongguk, who had migrated from the breakfast nook to the barstool directly across from where she was slicing fruit, watching her with rapt interest. She perked up a degree as Hoseok switched on the speaker to a punchy 80’s song, grateful for the noise.

To her great relief, Seokjin struck up a normal conversation with her from his spot next to Jeongguk as he munched on his bagel, asking all sorts of questions about her friendship with Ben. She didn’t mind filling Seokjin in on her childhood spent running around the backyard with Ben, seeing it as an opportunity to describe her best friend to the hybrids before they met the fiery lawyer that afternoon. Y/N knew Ben would have a bulleted list of queries for each hybrid when he got there, the thought making her bite down on her lip. She hoped Ben wouldn’t be too hard on them, worried that he’d meet his match when it was Namjoon’s turn to be grilled.

Taehyung excused himself from the kitchen to shower and change shortly after she had finished mixing the fruit salad, only after the conversation about Ben turned into a discussion of Laura and Alice. Y/N wondered if she was losing it or if she had detected a jealous spark in his eyes when she was talking about her friends– or perhaps it was something else entirely, Taehyung could definitely be difficult to read at times. Shortly after Taehyung left, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jimin cleared out similarly to get showered and dressed, each of them scrambling from the room like they saw the Babadook.

“I think we’ve done everything we can until people arrive,” Yoongi announced, skimming a palm over the sparkling granite Y/N had finished wiping down, all of their hard work either chilling in the fridge or gently simmering away on the stove. “What’s everyone else bringing?”

“My dad makes a ‘famous’ mac and cheese– it’s very good, but don’t say anything, it gets to his head. My parents will bring the meats and the black bean burgers for the grill, too. Laura and Alice have this family sangria recipe that they always make for the cookout, but I’m warning you now. Don’t have more than two glasses,” Y/N shook her finger at Seokjin, who definitely had a weakness for wine-based cocktails. “Sal’s family will bring some pizza or ziti, the neighbors usually bring wine. Oh, and Ben ordered a ton of cupcakes.”

“Okay, so nothing we already made… that’s good,” Yoongi leaned against the refrigerator, his face flushed. It must have been from standing over the stove for so long, laboring over a giant batch of the most delicious mashed potatoes Y/N ever tasted.

“How long does this… thing usually last?” Jeongguk asked somewhat indelicately, pushing up the sleeves of his sleep shirt to his elbows, Y/N once again trying to make out the forms inked onto his skin. She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to look at them more closely.

“Well, it goes on until nightfall, and for a while after that,” Y/N met Jeongguk’s dark eyes, the sweet rounded shape of them contradicting his entire demeanor. “You don’t have to be around for the entire thing, at all, you can hang out and watch movies in the parlor if you want. Just grab some food, and maybe say hi to a few people… I’m not going to force you to be out there all night or anything.”

Seokjin grimaced as she spoke, shooting the elk hybrid a reproachful look. At that point, Y/N was more than used to Jeongguk’s cynical way of speaking, truly unfazed by it, especially with the toothpaste stain he was sporting on his sleep shirt. Besides, Jeongguk’s question didn’t really bother her. The last thing Y/N wanted was any of the hybrids to feel pressured into doing something they didn’t want to, no matter what. Whether she could find the words to express that in a future conversation was another story entirely.

“Okay… I guess I’ll just see how it goes,” Jeongguk muttered, pushing himself off of his barstool with a grunt, his forearms flexing as he used the granite countertop as a brace. “See you in a bit, then,” he added, a touch more gently as he locked eyes with Y/N a final time before he left the room.

“Insufferable kid,” Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, one of his ears twitching in annoyance as he watched the elk hybrid slink away. “Every time he opens his mouth, I’m worried you’re going to start throwing punches, Yoongi.”

Darkly chuckling by the fridge, Yoongi used his shirtsleeve to dab at his dewy hairline, Y/N beginning to grow concerned that he was coming down with a fever with how pink his cheeks were.

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Yoongi sighed, earning a snort of laughter from Seokjin as the latter began to get up from his seat. “It’s a shame, too. We’d match up pretty well in a fight.”

“I’d prefer if we kept the fighting to a minimum,” Y/N placed her hands on her hips as she walked the two hybrids to the staircase, Seokjin’s thick lower lip jutting out into a pout. “I’d hate to have to patch up those pretty faces of yours.”

“Y-you!” Seokjin choked, tripping over his own foot trying to ascend the first step, his tail going ramrod straight in surprise. “You–”

“I’d say the chances of an actual fight breaking out are slim to none, so you don’t have to worry about our ‘pretty faces’,” Yoongi cut Seokjin off abruptly, lightly shoving the jaguar hybrid up a few steps so he could ascend them as well. “Give me a half hour, and I’ll meet you at the piano, silly girl.”

Tutting at Yoongi’s preferred nickname for her, Y/N watched the two hybrids hurry up the stairs, Yoongi nudging the still-reeling Seokjin along with gritted teeth. The leopard hybrid was certainly feisty that morning, Y/N wondering if the late nights and early mornings were getting to him, or if anticipation for the cookout was setting him on edge– or as she had speculated at the mall the previous day, he was beginning to feel the discomfort of not yet scenting her. Worrying her lip with her teeth, Y/N tried not to read into it too much, remembering that Yoongi had promised her he’d tell her when he’d need to scent. Shaking her head, Y/N began to head upstairs herself so she could take a few moments to herself in the music room.

Y/N spent some time organizing the chaos in the music room, sliding vinyls into a shelf neatly when she found them strewn around the table with the dusty record player. She discovered that Taehyung had made a trip to the garage to check out her uncle’s old records, after all– tucking a frayed Pink Floyd album into place with a small smile. From down the hall, she could hear Seokjin singing in the shower, his voice deep and sweet.

Perching on the worn leather sofa by the record player, Y/N scrolled on her phone for a bit, deciding to take a few minutes to do some more investigating on scenting. This time, she went on a forum, those who posted on it being hybrid owners, experts, and researchers. Finding the drop-down menu, she scanned through multiple topics: predator hybrids, understanding behavior by species, scenting– bingo. A rather long post was pinned to the top of the page once she tapped on it, written by a person who studied hybrid behavior.

Many new hybrid owners often ask the question: what exactly is scenting, and why do hybrids do it? The answer to the second query is not clear as of yet, though there have been several theories. Scenting itself is the act of a hybrid displaying a sense of ownership over their adoptive human. Depending on species, the hybrid will likely initiate the act of scenting within days, sometimes hours, within their adoption. In some cases, hybrids ignore their urges to scent their adoptive human for a multitude of reasons; the most common is the fear of being abandoned after the scenting process, as many hybrids are returned to shelters for not living up to expectations for people unfit to adopt hybrids in the first place.

If a hybrid ignores the instinct to scent for too long, it will affect them physically. First, behavior becomes agitated, quick-tempered, and the hybrid will display jealousy towards others around their adoptive human. Other hybrids may become increasingly clingy, seeking out physical contact whenever possible. Second, the hybrid will begin to feel ill, the symptoms ranging from a feverish temperature, intense headache, and decreased control over their strength. It is important to monitor these kinds of reactions in your hybrid, as the discomfort can become dangerously overwhelming for them.

The act of scenting allows the hybrid to “claim” their adoptive human. Hybrids have incredible olfactory senses, and will become extremely sensitive to their adoptive human’s scent. When the hybrid scents, they often search for a spot on their human where the scent is most concentrated– the neck and wrists, for example. The actual ritual includes a bite, usually painful for a moment, before it is soothed by an enzyme in the composition of the hybrid’s saliva and the mark will become painless almost immediately.

Hybrid canine teeth coat themselves with yet another enzyme once the skin of the human is punctured, which enters the bloodstream, which is the true purpose of scenting. This particular enzyme will live in the bloodstream of the human for a certain amount of time, infusing the human’s scent with the hybrid’s. While the mark is soothed and healed by the enzyme in the saliva, the enzyme coating the hybrid’s teeth is the one that does the actual scenting. After soothed, the mark will become painless. After a stretch of time (length of time depends on species), the ritual will have to be repeated.

Often, I receive questions about the sensation humans experience during the ritual of scenting. The sensation is most commonly described as euphoric, leaving the human giddy and their muscles becoming lax. The soothing enzymes in both the hybrid’s saliva and the coating of their teeth are both to blame for this. I am led to believe, based on my research of hybrids the past forty years, that the enzymes attempt to calm the human’s natural fight or flight instinct. It would only be natural for a human being to withdraw from such a ritual, so I believe that this is an evolutionary result in hybrids to set their humans at ease. The sensation is harmless, and wears off after several minutes.

“What are you reading?” Yoongi’s gravelly voice frightened her enough to flinch upwards to her feet, dropping her phone on the leather couch with a flop. “Whatever it is, I’ve never seen you so concentrated.”

The leopard hybrid was leaning against the threshold into the room, eyeing her with mild interest, the damp strands of his long black hair neatly combed back. He was wearing a brand-new outfit; a satiny black button down patterned with red roses, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of black slacks, and shiny, new black loafers. It was unbelievable how good he looked, Y/N getting the feeling he knew it, too, with the cocky arch to one of his brows.

“Just some article!” Y/N blurted, smoothing the skirt of her dress down nervously, watching Yoongi stifle a chuckle as he made his way towards the grand piano, spotted tail curling languidly behind him.

As he got closer, Y/N noted that his cheeks still had a pinkish tint to them. She watched, rooted to her spot, as Yoongi placidly lifted the fallboard to reveal the sepia toned-keys on the ancient piano. His elegant fingertips skimmed the ivory with reverence, Y/N almost feeling like she was intruding on a private moment.

“Let’s get started,” Yoongi began, tucking a stray lock of his hair behind his ear that had fallen onto his cheek. “Come here, take a seat,” Yoongi motioned towards the piano bench with two fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, settling himself on the edge of it.

Shyly, Y/N joined him, trying to give him enough space on the bench as she sat beside him, the warmth of his leg through his pants as it pressed against hers sending goosebumps over the bare skin of her thigh. Apparently unaffected, Yoongi began to flip through pages of the beginner’s book he purchased at the music store, eyebrows pulled together in contemplation. Nervously, Y/N twiddled her thumbs in her lap, praying that she wouldn’t totally suck and let Yoongi down.

“Here, we’ll do this one first,” Yoongi nestled the booklet on the shelf above the keys, Y/N curiously scanning the page before scoffing in disbelief.

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? Seriously?” Y/N whined, Yoongi snickering at her bewilderment.

“What, did you think we were going to start with Chopin? I’ve gotta establish a baseline with you somehow,” Yoongi replied, his right hand moving to play the simple, short melody.

“Fine, so how do I play it?” Y/N studied the way his fingers danced on the keys, trying to memorize the sequence at which he pressed down on them. Humming, Yoongi pointed to a particular key.

“This is what we call ‘Middle C’. Think of it as the halfway point between the higher and lower notes on the piano. The song starts with two C notes. Go ahead and hit them,” Yoongi requested, an encouraging expression on his flushed face.

Doing as she was told, Y/N cringed as her fingers plunked the key a little too harshly, making Yoongi flinch into her shoulder with a hiss. Shaking his head, Yoongi placed his hand over hers, using his index finger to apply the correct pressure to use.

“The keys are weighted. The more pressure you apply, the louder the sound. You don’t have to hammer down onto the keys, unless the score calls for it,” Yoongi explained patiently, a tone of amusement coloring his raspy voice.

“How will I be able to tell? Sheet music looks like hieroglyphics,” Y/N felt Yoongi draw his hand away, staring at him with exasperation. She didn’t expect to be such an impatient student, but Yoongi was a more than obliging teacher– he didn’t seem to mind her brattiness.

“You’ll learn, not today though. If we can get through this melody, I’ll teach you some music theory next week,” Yoongi murmured, scanning the pout on her face thoughtfully. “Okay, let’s keep going. The next note is G.”

For about half an hour, forbearing Yoongi answered Y/N’s every question, demonstrated how to play the melody over and over, and even indulged her request to play a favorite tune of hers. Eventually, Y/N could play the melody all the way through, albeit a tad clumsily. The first time she finished the song without mistake, she was nearly vibrating with excitement, Yoongi passed his hand over her back with pride, squeezing her shoulder with a grin on his face.

“Against all odds, I did it!” Y/N leaned into Yoongi, practically ready to throw her arms around him for being patient enough to teach her.

“You did, I’m very proud of you. You’re an exemplary student,” Yoongi declared, Y/N clocking the sweat that began to dew around his hairline, and the way his arm had moved down to encircle her waist firmly. Feverish. Clingy.

“Don’t butter me up too much, Yoongi. What if I get lazy and don’t practice enough because you’re too easy on me?” Y/N leveled her face close to the leopard hybrid’s, his pupils dilating from her proximity, throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. Assessing him, she continued gently. “Yoongi… are you okay? You’ve been flushed all morning.”

He didn’t answer, holding intense eye contact as Y/N moved her hand to brush hair out of his face, using the back of her hand to press against his forehead to check his temperature. Exhaling through her teeth sharply, his flesh practically sizzled under her touch, Yoongi’s eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. In the back of her mind, she knew what was wrong with him, an animalistic noise beginning to rumble from the back of the leopard hybrid’s throat. Y/N was spellbound by how her touch affected him, the grip he had around her lower waist tightening as his fingertips wound themselves into the fabric of her sundress, appearing to make an attempt at controlling his breathing pattern.

“I–” Yoongi’s hoarse voice shot a lightning bolt through her, his free hand reaching up to snatch her wrist before she could pull it away, his eyes snapping open. Freezing, Y/N felt her own eyes widen, his grip delicate but unyielding. “I know you know. You’ve been eyeing me like that all morning… yesterday, too.”

A light gasp escaped her lips as Yoongi adjusted his grip, closing his eyes once more to run the tip of his nose against the sensitive flesh of her inner wrist. He shuddered, pulling her flush into his arms as he inhaled deeply, Y/N’s wrist limp in his hand as she processed his words dripping with meaning. She practically melted in his embrace, something sounding close to a purr coming from Yoongi’s chest as she found herself bracing her uncaptured hand on his thigh.

“You n-need to–” Y/N began, stiffening as she felt the soft petals of Yoongi’s lips brush over her pulse point, the skin tingling in response, unable to break away from his lidded gaze.

“You smell so good,” Yoongi groaned softly, nuzzling her wrist against his face distractedly. Stomach flipping over, Y/N felt her knees turn to jelly, thankful that she was seated and supported upright in Yoongi’s arms. “Hell. ‘s driving me crazy.”

Her breath began to quicken, barely recognizing the dangerous look in Yoongi’s hazel eyes as his lips brushed her skin with every word. Gripping his thigh with urgency, Y/N pressed her wrist closer to his mouth eagerly, feeling utterly possessed as her heart hammered around in her chest. A dark chuckle coming from the leopard hybrid had a shiver rolling down her spine.

“Yoongi,” Y/N heard herself whine as if she was a third party looking on, anticipation filling every cell of her body. At the sound of his name, Yoongi moved his hand from her waist to cradle her cheek, cooing at her.

“I know, sweetheart. It’ll only hurt for a second,” he whispered, Y/N leaning into his rough palm as she felt the hot brush of his tongue lave over her pulse, sending her heart rate galloping.

Discovering it impossible to tear her eyes away from the leopard hybrid’s attention on her wrist, Y/N held her breath as Yoongi pressed an open-mouth kiss to the tender area, once again moving his hand away from her cheek and back to around her middle. It was almost all too much, his tail mindlessly curling around her lower back as he gently traced his incisors over her skin. Still, she was reeling from the pet name he used on her, even as he started to quiver with the heady concentration of her scent overwhelming his senses.

As his sharp teeth pierced her skin, more gently than Namjoon or Seokjin had done so, Y/N still couldn’t stop the small yelp from escaping her lips at the sting. Protectively, both Yoongi’s arm and tail curled tighter around her waist. Y/N became completely boneless, her body sagging into Yoongi’s chest as the cloudy haze descended onto her. Dazedly, she watched a drop of her blood dribble down the length of her wrist, Yoongi pulling his teeth from her skin urgently to collect the trail of blood with a drag of his tongue. It was almost erotic, watching him shiver with relief as he soothed the aching bite with a series of soft kisses and small swipes of his tongue, Y/N trying her best to squash down the thought as best as she could while her head began to swim.

Sighing dreamily, Y/N closed her eyes as Yoongi’s grip on her wrist softened, the feeling of either his eyelashes or the tips of his hair tickling the fresh, painless bite. With his slackened grip, Y/N felt herself free to move, curling herself further into Yoongi, loopily threading her arms around his waist once he freed her wrist, nuzzling her face into his collarbone. His chest vibrating with a soft purr, Yoongi allowed Y/N to hug him in her delirious state, using one hand to card through her hair fondly.

“Take it easy for a minute to come down, sweetheart,” Yoongi murmured against her hair, Y/N giggling as she pressed her cheek into the satiny fabric of his button down. He smelled sweet, like vanilla and cloves. “I tried to be gentle… I don’t think you’ll bruise.”

“Hmm… that’s okay even if I do. You were gentle,” Y/N limply attempted to lift her head from her chest, not wanting to make the leopard hybrid uncomfortable with her prolonged clinging.

Still feeling dizzy, Y/N used the piano as a brace, three clashing notes ringing out as her palm pressed into the keys, snapping Yoongi out of his reverie of twisting a lock of her hair around his index finger. He wasn’t flushed anymore, the crease between his eyebrows that had appeared 24 hours ago gone completely. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Y/N broke eye contact, pulling the cover over the piano keys to prevent herself from smashing any more keys in her slight stupor.

“Come on, I’ll help you downstairs. There’s a few more things you wanted to do before people arrive, no?” Yoongi urged, getting to his feet with one of his hands stretched out towards her. Taking his hand shakily, Y/N allowed him to pull her up and support some of her weight with his arm slung around her upper back.

“Mmm, yeah. Gotta set the table, start up the fire, turn on the backyard lights,” Y/N slurred, descending the stairs at a snail’s pace with Yoongi’s assistance. “But the cooking is done. Thank you for helping so much. You really are quite the chef.”

Yoongi belly laughed, his eyes scrunched up in half-moons as he led her down the last step, arm sliding from her body as she became more stable on her feet. Thankfully, she had regained feeling in her knees, though now that she had a clearer head, looking Yoongi in the eye was difficult. A wave of bashfulness washed over her, Yoongi seeming to sense it as he smiled at her softly, linking his pinky finger with hers to pull her to the kitchen.

“Oh, what did you two get up to?” Hoseok was coming in from outside at the kitchen slider, the plastic wrapper of the tablecloth Y/N got at the grocery store crumpled up in one of his fists, his eyes narrowing at Yoongi.

“Don’t ruin my good mood, Foxy. Did you put out that tablecloth?” Yoongi broke the link of their fingers, making his way to the glass slider to peer outside. Hoseok frowned at Yoongi, one of his ears twitching with agitation.

Hoseok looked fantastic, somehow pulling off a colorful aquamarine Hawaiian short-sleeved button down and white shorts, his shirt hanging loose to reveal a white tank top under it. Almost immediately, his chocolatey eyes focused on Y/N’s wrist as she approached him to peek outside, Y/N pretending not to notice as the fox hybrid stared at Yoongi’s mark.

Outside, Jimin and Namjoon were busy carefully placing cutlery on the long wooden picnic table, the string lights already illuminated. The grill was on, waves of heat coming off of it and tools placed on the side burner. And by the firepit, Taehyung in his outfit he picked out yesterday was prodding at the beginnings of a bonfire with an iron stake, adding a split log with practiced ease.

“Wow, you guys did everything! What did I do to deserve you all, seriously,” Y/N exclaimed, genuinely taken aback with the sheer amount of work all of them did to help her host a party with many guests they hadn’t even met yet. “Ah, we’re going to have so much fun. I’m going to fill up that old tin basin out there with ice for the beer and seltzers.”

Both hybrids beside her had gone stoically silent with the first half of her statement, appearing a touch taken aback. Tearing her eyes from Jimin, clad in a pair of very well-fitting blue jeans, Y/N attempted to make haste to the freezer for the ice bags, Hoseok promptly catching the crook of her elbow.

“Way ahead of you. I already took care of it,” Hoseok cocked his head, his dimples appearing cutely when he grinned at her. “You know, while you were tackling the complicated melody of Twinkle Twinkle.”

“Hey! I tried my best, Hoseok,” Y/N lightly shoved Hoseok with her hand on his forearm, finding it impossible to be insulted. She was beginning to think that Hoseok could read her mind, or at the very least he shared a brain cell with her. His humor was something she genuinely enjoyed, reminding her of Ben in many ways. “Thanks, by the way. I guess I should ask what else should be done, even though it seems you all have it under control.”

“What time is it, anyways?” Y/N wondered, checking her watch distractedly. Shit. “Christ almighty. We have like forty minutes!” “Relax, darling. Almost everything has been taken care of, we’re just waiting on the two still primping upstairs. Want a drink, or something?” Hoseok strolled over to the island, where someone had set up a sort of DIY cocktail bar. “How about a French 75? First cocktail I ever learned to make. Although, it might not match up to Yoongi’s bartending skills.”

Yoongi scoffed from beside Y/N, rolling his eyes peevishly. Giving Y/N a squeeze on her shoulder, Yoongi slid the glass door open to head outside, scooping a Budweiser out of the ice bucket on the patio before checking on the grill. Jumping as she heard the loud pop of Hoseok uncorking a champagne bottle, Y/N brushed it off as she skipped over to the fox hybrid.

“Okay, I’ll have one, but only if you have one too,” Y/N helpfully placed two fluted glasses in front of the fox hybrid, his shoulders shaking with amusement. “It’ll take the edge off. Don’t let my mother corner you tonight, I’m worried she’ll scare you away.”

Hoseok’s hands stilled while he was peeling a twist of lemon with a knife, staring at her incredulously. One of the traditions of the annual cookout was her mother pulling out tarot and oracle cards by the fire, guests able to get small readings from her if they wished. Y/N’s fear was that one of the hybrids would get trapped into a reading, especially if both their and her mother’s inhibitions would be lowered by the flowing alcohol. The last thing she wanted was her mother creeping them out with her startlingly accurate predictions.

“Your mom is sweet,” Hoseok replied simply, vigorously shaking the metal cocktail shaker. “It’ll take a lot more than her telling me about your awkward teenage years to scare me away.”

“Hoseok! You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?” Y/N exclaimed, refraining from smacking him on the arm with a scowl as he strained the liquor into the flutes.

“Just a little. You make it too easy,” Hoseok topped off each cocktail with champagne and his lemon twists, gently handing her one of the glasses with a sly smirk. “Cheers!”

Muttering, Y/N clinked her glass with his, watching him take a small sip with narrowed eyes. The drink was sweet and refreshing as it hit her taste buds; perfectly balanced. She found it easy to forgive his teasing.

“Okay, let’s bring these outside. I’m going to set up the lawn games, unless that’s been taken care of too,” Y/N dragged Hoseok by the elbow to the slider, the fox hybrid playfully putting up a bit of resistance as she towed him to the door.

The lawn games had not been set up yet by the hybrids, much to her relief. With a task she could finally accomplish on her own, Y/N let Hoseok and Jimin follow her into the rickety garage for the bin containing everything she’d need. Sneezing upon entry to the dusty building, Y/N fumbled her way through the darkness to yank on the metal chain attached to an ancient lightbulb, illuminating the space with amber glow. Distantly, she contemplated whether or not hybrids had some kind of night vision as many animals did, considering none of them bothered to turn on any lights while they dragged furniture out of the garage all day.

The French 75 coursed through her bloodstream potently as she stacked hand-stitched bean bags beside a weathered cornhole board on the lawn, listening to a playlist she had sent Hoseok to stream onto the outdoor speakers. She was beginning to feel jittery knowing that people were going to be arriving any moment, even though everything was in place exactly how she pictured. Earlier in the week, she couldn’t have imagined that she’d be in such a good position; plagued by worries about the hybrids getting along, tasks being forgotten. Y/N didn’t know if her seven hybrids were putting on a front to help her out with the event or avoiding conflict between each other, but regardless she had never felt more excited to introduce them to the circle of her closest loved ones and friends. Truly, she believed the event would further loosen them up, and maybe break down some of the walls most of them had put up– not that she could blame them.

“Are we the first ones here? Oh, Y/N, help Grandmother,” Y/N’s mother made her grand entrance from the backyard gate propped open by Taehyung, with her father and grandparents in tow. Her mother was in a whimsical, drapey maxi dress, her willowy elbow interlocked with Y/N’s grandmother’s.

“Grandmother, I’m so happy you’re here,” Y/N rushed to the tiny elderly woman’s side, genuinely tearing up at the sight of her– in the backyard of the home she once commanded.

Y/N hadn’t seen much of her grandparents for the past month, an uptick of emergencies at the animal hospital preventing her from making visitations with them at her parent’s house. Her grandmother, a woman of incredible wit and strength, was amongst Y/N’s favorite people. While she was quite old, age never dimmed her brilliance, her round eyes brimming with that probing all-knowing. Y/N could only assume that her mother had filled her grandparents in on her adoptions after their excursion at the shops on Wednesday, as neither of them seemed jarred at the sight of seven hybrids milling around the backyard awkwardly.

Hooking her elbow with her grandmother’s, she happily received a kiss on her cheek from her easy-going grandfather, watching her mother and father hurry towards the kitchen slider with their bags full of provisions. Promptly, Jimin sprung into action, relieving her father of two bags as they stepped into the house. Her mother trailed behind more slowly, Seokjin approaching her hurriedly to grab her woven purse hanging from her wrist precariously. The jaguar hybrid looked positively heavenly, like a Jane Austen hero in his loose-fitting white button down and straight leg black slacks, grinning at her mother politely.

“So, these are the hybrids you’ve adopted, my dear. All men?” Her grandmother murmured slowly, Y/N grimacing as she caught Namjoon’s eyes by the picnic table, his long fingers poised between leaflets of the pages of Wuthering Heights.

“I’m sorry, Grandmother… I should have told you sooner,” Y/N felt her cheek burn in both shame and embarrassment, aware that her hybrids could hear every utterance. “It all happened so quickly, but I think you’ll like them all once you get to know them.”

Snickering throatily, her grandmother sat comfortably in a cushioned lawn chair with Y/N’s help, her spry grandfather wandered off nearby to check on his clump of rose bushes he had planted beneath Namjoon’s bedroom window decades ago. Pulling her light blue cardigan tightly around her body, her grandmother grasped Y/N’s hand with purpose.

“The house looks very nice. You’re caring for it well, my love,” her grandmother remarked, stroking the back of Y/N’s hand with a weathered thumb. “It’s about time all those bedrooms got some use again.”

“I agree. It’s been a long time since the house has been this lively,” Y/N smiled softly, smelling her grandfather’s minty aftershave as he settled into a chair beside her grandmother, his white handlebar mustache curling up when he grinned at her benignly. “Can I get you two a drink? The usual?”

“WhistlePig?” Her grandfather brightened up, grasping a hold of her grandmother’s hand.

“I picked some up yesterday,” Y/N winked, straightening up. “You haven’t met him yet, but one of the hybrids, Jimin, loved that bottle of Farmstock Rye you brought on the 4th. I got a few more bottles of it just for you two.”

“Very good, my dear. You send that Jimin my way, he sounds like an alright fellow,” her grandfather rasped in response, Y/N spiriting away to make her grandparents drinks quickly, knowing that more people would be arriving at any moment.

“Now, Seokjin, dear… do you like to read? I host a book club with hybrids at the Boston Public Library bi-weekly! Sweet Namjoon has been a part of the club for a couple of months, so you’d already have someone you know there. The next meeting is on Monday, you’re more than welcome to join, We’ll be starting a new book the meeting after next,” her mother rambled while pouring a healthy glass of white wine for herself and the jaguar hybrid, while her father and Jimin nursed bottles of Budweiser as they slid packages of hamburgers into the fridge.

“Yes, ma’am, I love reading. Is it really okay to join the book club? Will I be behind?” Seokjin replied somewhat timidly, gingerly accepting his glass of wine as he caught sight of Y/N standing nearby mixing up a gin martini.

“Of course it’s alright, sweetheart. You won’t be behind at all! Our meeting Monday will be to discuss the book we finished, and you can get a feel for how the club is set up. If you enjoy yourself, you can check out a copy of the next book we’ll read for the following meeting and you can truly participate next time,” her mother explained, Y/N marveling at how much of a liking her mother had taken to Seokjin. Truthfully, Y/N thought the book club would be a good thing for Seokjin; an opportunity to make friends and perhaps get closer to Namjoon.

“If you’re up to it, Jin, I’ll drive you into the city with Namjoon on Monday. The three of us could pick up dinner takeout afterwards,” Y/N added, her mother perking up with Y/N’s encouragement. Seokjin’s cheeks rounded out with his small grin, his tail curling around behind him in response to all of the attention.

“Okay, that sounds nice,” Seokjin agreed shyly, sipping his wine with a pleased expression. He was really too sweet for his own good, Y/N thought.

“Oh, you’re going to restore that old stable? I wish I had better carpentry skills, I could give you a hand, Jimin.” Y/N heard her father lament, the coyote hybrid shaking his head with his signature heart-stopping smile.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I’ve done a fair share of work on stables before. Not much needs to be done in order to have it suitable for boarding,” Jimin leaned back on the countertop by the fridge, Y/N’s eye catching a bright glint from the gold belt buckle threaded through the loops of his blue jeans.

He was wearing a simple sky blue fitted tee shirt, tucked into his jeans and showing off his lean figure. Trying not to stare, Y/N tore her eyes from the coyote hybrid’s form, balancing the two drinks in her hands. From outside, she heard her grandfather exclaim in delight, cutting off both of her parents' separate conversations with Jimin and Seokjin so they could peer out the window. Where her grandparents were seated by the firepit, Taehyung had added more wood to the dying bonfire, grinning ear to ear as her grandfather clapped with glee.

Startled that Taehyung had taken it upon himself to introduce himself to her grandparents, as he was usually so avoidant when it came to speaking to people other than Y/N herself, Y/N made a beeline outside with the drinks so she could witness the spectacle. On her heels, Seokjin trailed after her, ditching Jimin in the kitchen with her parents. Y/N had the feeling the coyote hybrid could hold his own against them.

Taehyung, kneeling beside her grandmother and poking the bonfire with an iron rod, was nodding along with something she was saying, Y/N unable to process the words as she approached the clump of chairs. Gingerly, she handed her grandfather his tumbler of whiskey, the large ice cube clinking around in the cup as he took it with a shaky hand. Placing her grandmother’s gin martini on the table beside her, Y/N cocked her head at Taehyung, who blinked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“So you’ve met Taehyung,” Y/N raised her voice a decibel to accommodate her grandfather’s dim hearing, giving Seokjin an appreciative rub on his arm as he appeared at her side with an open can of vodka seltzer for her. “This is Seokjin!”

“What did you say? Tae-hyung? The young man introduced himself as Tae,” her grandfather croaked loudly, confusion coloring his face. Snorting, Y/N felt her insides warm, Taehyung looking at the ground bashfully as her grandfather repeated his nickname. “Nice to meet you, Seokjin, why don’t you take a seat, son.”

Cheeks red, Seokjin obediently plopped down in a chair beside her grandfather, tracing his fingertips over the condensation coating his wine glass. Taking a sip of her seltzer, Y/N scanned the immediate area, spotting Jeongguk at the edges of the untrimmed hedges smoking, his hair slicked back with the new gel and predictably dressed in all-black. Squinting, Y/N made out the material of the complicated pants he had on, straps circling his legs; was that leather? Thinking it was far too hot to be wearing leather, Y/N smirked, perching herself on the armrest of Seokjin’s chair.

Hoseok was filling up a second basin with ice he had located in the garage by the picnic table, apparently having an urgent conversation with Yoongi as the leopard hybrid placidly handed him bottles of Corona from a box set on the table. Again, Y/N wondered where Namjoon had wound up, not able to locate him in the vicinity.

Feeling Seokjin flinch behind her before actually hearing a familiar car honk, Y/N got to her feet, knowing it was Sal and his family, getting ready to haul trays of ziti into the house.

“Dear, is that Sal? Was little Tony coming this year?” Her grandmother perked up, directing her attention to the gate into the backyard.

“Yeah, he said he could make it. Though, he’s not little anymore, Grandmother, Tony’s in high school now. He’s on the football team,” Y/N explained, grasping Seokjin’s hand to drag him to the gate for assistance, motioning Taehyung to follow as well.

Making a noise of surprise, Seokjin swiftly set his wine glass down before she could pull him away, adjusting his grip so he could intertwine his fingers with Y/N’s, the action triggering butterflies to flutter around in her stomach. His thumb skimmed Yoongi’s mark accidentally, a strange tingle shooting up from her wrist to her elbow. Taehyung unlatched the gate, Y/N inspecting the slightly excited expression that had appeared on his face. Y/N was hoping Taehyung could become friends with Anthony, considering he hadn’t quite warmed up to any of the other hybrids enough yet.

“Oy, give us a hand here, Y/N?” Angie called, standing by the back of the van with a big stack of foil trays. Hurrying to her aid, Y/N let go of Seokjin with a touch of remorse. “Pretty dress, hun. So happy to be here.”

Angie made air-kissing sounds as Y/N took a couple of the trays from her, Y/N quickly introduced the two hybrids to Angie, Sal Jr., and Sal himself as they handed them tray after tray. The passenger door of the van swung open, Anthony hauling himself out while precariously balancing a large box of what Y/N presumed to be cannolis.

“Hey Tae, man! How you doin’?” Anthony greeted the Kodiak hybrid, after he smoothly said hello to Y/N with a cute kiss on her cheek. “Sick outfit, bro.”

“Thanks, you too,” Taehyung replied, his tone on the side of unsure. Anthony always dressed well off the clock, though Y/N thought the kid took a little too much inspiration from The Sopranos with the colorful striped button downs.

With equal excitement, Anthony began to introduce himself to Seokjin while the clump of people filed into the backyard, Y/N grateful that Anthony now had so many guys to chat with during the cookout. In years past, there were often a larger number of women at the cookout in comparison to young men, mostly her mother’s friends.

After carting all of the food from Sal into the house, things had already become pretty noisy with the Italian family’s arrival. It set her at ease now that the attention wasn’t entirely focused on her own family, thankful that they had shown up and breathed life into the afternoon. Finally, she had located Namjoon: he was sitting in the grass under a large tree beside the picnic table, though hidden from view from others in the backyard. Breaking away from Taehyung and Seokjin for a few moments as they were preoccupied with whatever Anthony was explaining to them with wild hand gestures, Y/N made her way to the wolf hybrid once she had spotted the silvery fur of his tail beside the tree.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Y/N blurted, as Namjoon immediately put his book down upon hearing her approach, his eyebrows raised in expectation. “Just checking on you. Here.”

Wordlessly, Namjoon accepted a Corona from her, Y/N purposefully picking out a lighter beer for the wolf hybrid. He looked impossibly handsome, with hunter green drawstring pants and a tan short-sleeved shirt with tortoiseshell buttons clasping them shut, his moonlight hair swept off his forehead and the sun reflecting the iridescence of the strands. Carefully, Y/N lowered herself down beside him, noting the way he stiffened a degree at her proximity, watching her peer down at the open book on his lap. He was almost finished with Wuthering Heights, Y/N registered as she took a sip of her seltzer.

“What do you think about the book?” Y/N attempted to initiate conversation once more, quite frankly sick of not being able to speak with him like she could before. She could only pray that he responded, as he popped the cap off of the beer and sniffed it with mild interest. Several emotions played across his features, Y/N almost able to see him sorting through his thoughts.

“Hmm… I remember your mother saying it's one of your favorites, correct?” Namjoon murmured, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a sip contemplatively.

“That’s right. You won’t offend me if you hate it, if that’s why you seem so torn,” Y/N giggled, biting her lip as she brushed off an inchworm that was mapping a path up Namjoon’s forearm. “I’ve been missing your insight on things.”

Y/N admitted the last part of her sentence nonchalantly, though she was surprised she was able to confess that so easily. Namjoon was startled, either by her words or the fact that she’d touched him, fiddling with the pages of the book as he processed.

“It’s not that I hate it. The characters, Cathy, Heathcliff, they’re all insufferable, sure. The whole time I’ve been reading it, I was struggling to understand why you like it so much,” Namjoon answered after a few moments, Y/N nearly fainting with relief that he was actually speaking to her with more than just a short, forced sentence.

“Well, it’s just that. None of the characters are particularly likable, Nelly as the narrator is incredibly biased, following the timelines can be confusing especially because there are two Cathys. I think that for a young woman to write a book so vulgar and brutal all those years ago is an impressive feat. The inherent darkness of the story is what hooked me in the first place, and it keeps me coming back. I’ve probably read it five times over the years,” Y/N attempted to sum up her reasoning for loving Emily Bronte’s masterpiece, but found it difficult with Namjoon’s rapt attention on her face while she spoke.

“So you like stories with darker subject matter,” Namjoon mused, seeming to recover from her earlier comment. “It’s beautifully written, I just didn’t expect so much moral corruption from the characters. I’ve read Jane Eyre by Emily’s sister, which has its fair shares of thematic shock and darkness, so I half-expected this novel to be similar. I was pleasantly surprised, I’ve never read anything like this.”

Delighted, Y/N gave Namjoon the brightest smile she could muster, thrilled to have someone she now lived with to discuss some of her favorite novels. Eyes widening a fracture at her enthused reaction to his words, Namjoon took a swig of his drink, diverting his eyes back to the pages.

“They made a decent Jane Eyre movie adaptation back in 2011. We could watch it sometime, if you’re interested,” Y/N offered, beyond pleased that he was speaking to her again.

It was like she had entered a little bubble with just her and Namjoon in it, the chaos of the cookout behind her temporarily forgotten. She was taken aback further when Namjoon nodded and chuckled airly, a dimple appearing in his cheek with her idea. Resisting the urge to poke the crater in his cheek, Y/N giggled with him, taking his response as agreement. A cool breeze rolled by, ruffling Namjoon’s silky hair and carrying the scent of honey with it. He stopped laughing when his bitten ear fluttered, leaning forward to look over Y/N’s shoulder curiously.

“I think more of your guests have arrived,” He whispered due to his close proximity, Y/N able to feel the heat coming off of his body.

Straightening up, Y/N could hear the babbling of a child’s voice from the driveway, suspecting Ben and his family were about to join them. Wobbly, she got to her feet, Namjoon peering up with her with an expression softer than he had afforded her in days. With a happy sigh, Y/N extended her hand to help Namjoon up, the wolf hybrid tentatively sliding his palm against her’s, standing up to his full height with ease.

“Could you come with me and help out with getting all of the cupcake boxes out of Ben’s car please? You can go right back to reading after, promise,” Y/N asked, releasing his hand as soon as he had his footing.

“Sure. I think I’ll save the ending for tomorrow,” Namjoon acquiesced, his dimples still indenting his cheeks cutely. While Y/N was learning that Namjoon could be moody, she didn’t mind, especially if she got to see those dimples every now and again.

“Jesus, Y/N. You really don’t realize what seven hybrids look like until you see them all clumped together back here,” Ben muttered in Y/N’s ear, setting a bag filled with children’s toys down on the grass by the kiddie pool.

After a slightly awkward exchange between Ben, Namjoon and herself hauling boxes of cupcakes into the garage refrigerator, Ben assuming his stony lawyer disposition and Namjoon being his usual chilly self, Namjoon had escaped to get himself another beer while Y/N and Ben caught up for a moment. Roy, who had broken up the awkward tension a degree by parading Daisy around on his hip, was introducing the little rabbit hybrid to enthusiastic Hoseok and Jimin, the former who was talking to her in a silly voice.

“Yeah, there’s quite a few of them, each of them special in their own ways,” Y/N leaned into Ben’s side, grateful that he seemed to be so tame that day. Tutting, Ben pointed across the yard at Jeongguk reading something in his journal, drinking from a Red Solo cup with a cigarette burning between the fingertips grasping the glass.

“I’ve never even seen an elk hybrid, who was that again? He looks like a manager at Hot Topic,” Ben remarked, a hand on his hip.

“Hush, Ben, I don’t want you ticking any of them off,” Y/N managed, though it was incredibly difficult to stifle a laugh crawling up her throat. “That’s Jeongguk, the youngest.”

“Okay, well so far I like the two being nice to my daughter. That wolf hybrid was a little, uh. Unfriendly,” Ben scratched his close-cut red beard, squinting at Namjoon shuffling towards Yoongi for a word.

“He’s not. They’ve all been through a lot, I think it’s only natural for them to have cautionary walls up,” Y/N reminded Ben, watching him swirl his cocktail around in his glass.

“Look at you, Y/N! I feel like you’ve finally matured in a matter of a week, maybe this was a good thing for you, after all,” Ben snorted, used to Y/N’s petulant behavior when with him.

“Wish I could say the same about you. Daisy looks so cute, by the way. I remember when you bought that sundress,” Y/N slowly circled towards the gate with Ben, watching her neighbors flood in, ushered by her mother and father.

“She was so excited to come today. I actually stopped by Laura’s earlier this week to introduce her to Kai. They get along well, even though Daisy is a bit older. She couldn’t stop talking about the ‘hybrids from the gray place’ too, which I’m assuming are your guys,” Ben confessed, waving at Daisy chasing after Hoseok, who was running away from her slowly so she could catch him by his tail, laughing wildly. “Alright. I’m going to make my rounds. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the questioning to a minimum, I want to have a good time and that includes not pissing you or Roy off.”

Left by herself, Y/N watched Hoseok and Jimin joyfully play with Daisy, giving Roy a break to chat with her grandmother. Downing the rest of her second drink, Y/N fished out another seltzer from a nearby ice bucket, jumping in surprise once she stood up and registered Jeongguk in front of her, the scent of smoke coming off of him powerfully.

“Hey, Jeongguk, how’s it going? Did you meet some new people?” Y/N pressed her free hand to her irregular heartbeat, Jeongguk adjusting the neckline of his new band tee shirt with The Cure on it. He really did look like a manager at Hot Topic, though it worked on him, Y/N thought.

“I said hi to your parents, and the dude with the little bunny. Your mom started pulling out her tarot cards, she’s roping Yoongi into a reading,” Jeongguk replied, eyes on the open gate. “More people here than I thought, the jaguar seems a little overwhelmed.”

Making a noise of exclamation, Y/N scanned the backyard for Seokjin, finding him hanging back by the tree Namjoon had been earlier pulling at his shirtsleeves. Calling his name gently knowing that he could hear easily, she motioned for him to come to her, his ears flattened to his skull anxiously. Jeongguk, shockingly, stayed with her as Seokjin approached, a neutral expression on the elk hybrid’s face. She’d never tell him, but she thought it was pretty sweet of him to tell her about Seokjin’s unease.

“You alright, honey?” Y/N asked, running her hand down his back soothingly. Seokjin’s broad shoulders sinking down a bit at her touch.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just have to get used to the crowd, sometimes I get a little overwhelmed,” Seokjin flashed her a little smile, ears perking up at some sound she could not hear. Jeongguk, too, was focused on a spot behind her.

“If it gets to be too much, you can always go in the house and relax. I’ll sit with you for a bit, too, if that makes you feel b-better,” Y/N encouraged, stuttering when Seokjin pulled her in for a side-hug.

“Thanks, sweets,” Seokjin’s voice was muffled by her hair, his lips pressed into it comfortingly.

Blushing furiously once he released her, Seokjin smiled at someone behind her, a series of surprised gasps coming from the guests. Spinning on her heel, Y/N couldn’t stop the squeal coming from her lips, Alice strolling through the gate in bell-bottom jeans and a white ruched crop top, and a large bucket full of icy sangria in her arms. Close behind was Laura, her thick braids skimming her collarbones as she shifted Kai in her arms, his tiny fists full of the material of her green polka-dotted sundress, followed by her husband Tyler carrying a comically large box of Truly seltzers.

Immediately dumping the sangria on the table with the ice bucket, Alice flung herself into Y/N’s arms, her caramel perfume wrapping her in a warm hug. Laura joined in on the embrace as soon as Tyler’s arms were free to hold Kai so he could bring him over to Daisy and Roy, all three girls squeezing the life out of each other. It had been far too long since she had seen them, Y/N thought tearfully, Laura stroking her hair gently as they pulled away. Jeongguk cleared his throat uncomfortably, Alice’s eyebrow shooting up into her hairline once she realized the two hybrids were standing there.

“Oh shit. Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” Alice quipped, Jeongguk turning pale at the title and taking a sip of his drink to hide it. Snorting into her hand, Y/N realized she probably should have warned the hybrids a bit more about the twins. “Let me guess. Jeongguk?”

“H-how? Did you know my–” Jeongguk choked on the sip of his drink, Seokjin’s shoulders shaking with laughter as Alice held up a finger.

“Y/N debriefed us of all your names already, it was only fair,” Alice cut him off, eyeing the elk hybrid from head to toe. “Hmm… and you. You’re either Yoongi or Seokjin, kitty,” Alice redirected her attention to Seokjin, amusement vanishing from his face to be replaced with astonishment.

“That’s Seokjin! Cool it, Al,” Y/N spoke around a gasp of laughter, trying not to enjoy the mortification washing over Jeongguk and Seokjin’s glazed-over eyes.

“Nice to meet you boys, hope you’ve been nice to our Y/N,” Laura extended a hand, assuming her motherly tone of voice as Seokjin robotically took her hand to shake it.

“Laura,” Y/N whined, cringing as Jeongguk shook her hand with white knuckles.

“Are the Santos twins here? Come here, my girls!” Y/N heard her father shout from the picnic table, bouncing Kai on his knee with glee.

Giggling, Y/N felt herself get dragged to the table by Alice, Seokjin close behind as they left Jeongguk reeling by the gate. As she caught up with the twins and her father, Yoongi approached them, politely introducing himself to the twins, both of whom immediately took a liking to. Similarly, Jimin seated himself across from Y/N’s father, sipping on some whiskey as he joined the conversation. Between the group of them, it was pretty amicable, Y/N blushing when Yoongi pulled her close to brush an eyelash off of her face.

Y/N kept a close eye on her mother doing readings by the fire, performing a couple on her neighbors before moving onto Anthony followed by Taehyung, who hadn’t left each other’s sides since the former’s arrival. After a while, Alice pulled Y/N away, asking if she could show her the cupcakes Ben had brought.

Once they were in the dark garage, Alice began to laugh uncontrollably. Confused, Y/N shut the door to the fridge, staring at Alice with confusion. Alice pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to stop the onslaught of laughter rippling through her.

“Okay, now I get it. They’re all hot,” Alice gasped, wiping a tear from her eye. Heart plummeting to her stomach, Y/N lobbed a cocktail napkin at Alice that was wrapped around her newest French 75 Hoseok delivered to her with pink cheeks from chasing Daisy around.

“Alice! That is so not the reason why I adopted them! As a matter of fact, they were in their animal forms when I happened to find them at the shelter,” Y/N whisper-yelled, praying to the sky none of the hybrids could hear her between the walls of the garage, the music from the speakers outside, and the commotion from all of the guests.

“Whatever! Regardless, you failed to mention they were so handsome. I like that one in the Hawaiian shirt, the fox hybrid… good with kids. Hoseok, I think?” Alice calmed down, watching Y/N’s face carefully. Y/N knew when Alice liked to read her expressions, though she had become a master at concealing them from her.

“Yeah, Hoseok’s great. You two would really get along, both of you get off on making me squirm,” Y/N followed Alice back outside, her friend’s bouncy curls shaking with laughter as they stumbled back out into the bright sunshine. Several drinks in, and Y/N was already feeling a tad loopy.

“You know Laura and I were just worried about you with all these guys in your house. Especially when we found out they were all men… but they seem like really sweet hybrids. Rough around the edges, but I think they found the right home,” Alice declared in a sobering tone of voice.

Pulling Alice in for another hug with the relieving sensation of one of her closest friends approving of her hybrids, Y/N could hardly believe how different her life was compared to exactly a week ago. Then, she was preparing to eat a hummus wrap on her lunch break, thinking about her home renovation schedule, and was very much alone. Now, she was enjoying herself with friends and family on a beautiful August afternoon, with seven hybrids that would still be with her even when the party was over.

Only a tad tipsy, Y/N hooked her elbow with Alice’s, ready to follow the path into the backyard from the garage with glee. She had been meaning to check on Seokjin, even though he seemed much more at ease since he had sat in a lawn chair beside her grandmother, striking up a conversation while they sipped their beverages together.

“Y/N, honey. Can I have a word?” Her mother interrupted Y/N’s inner monologue, Alice blowing both of them a kiss before skipping into Hoseok’s direction in the backyard.

No idea how her mother had slipped away from the clumps of people waiting to get their cards read by her, Y/N presumed whatever she had to say was important. Hoping that it wasn’t an announcement that she had forgotten to prepare something for the cookout, Y/N allowed her mother to pull her closer to the driveway and completely out of earshot– Y/N could hardly even hear the playlist Hoseok had made for the cookout.

“Honey, I received messages for you. I know you hate when I do this, but it's important,” her mother rushed out, taking a hold of Y/N’s forearms firmly, a serious glint in her eyes. “I was just reading cards for our guests, your hybrids, and I had a strong vision.”

Swallowing, Y/N began to sweat, more than well aware her mother’s visions came true ninety percent of the time. Possibilities raced through her mind’s eye as she registered her mother’s words; did she see an upcoming conflict, a new ‘love match’, or something darker– was the entity that Jeongguk and Namjoon banished still lurking? The way her mother’s face was pinched indicated that whatever it was, the message wasn’t pleasant.

“Mom, what is it? You’re scaring me,” Y/N whispered, her mother’s hand curling around her forearm urgently. She appeared disturbingly conflicted, eyebrows pulled together and mouth twisted into a grimace.

“Honey, I was just reading cards for Taehyung,” her mother began, her eyes unfocusing, Y/N recognized that she was receiving another vision. “Oh my G-!”

“Hey, hey! Oh, are you alright? What happened? Is Tae okay!?” Y/N steadied her mother, feeling ice-cold panic flood through her. Shuddering, her mother regained her strength after a few beats, Y/N biting her lip raw. Finally, she was able to articulate, her voice misty and eyes faraway.

“Taehyung, you need to be careful around that man. Full of vengeance, bitterness, betrayal,” her mother dug her fingernails into the flesh of Y/N’s forearm desperately, Y/N getting the feeling it wasn’t entirely her mother alone speaking to her at the moment. Y/N could sense the presence of something else. “Though, I don’t think he’ll hurt you. But he has secrets.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N pressed desperately, trying to pry off her mother’s ironlike grip on her forearms, her next response causing Y/N to still, frozen in utter horror.

“That young man… Taehyung. He hides many things, shares with no one. The seven of swords, a knife. Always on the run, he’s found his place to hide. He’s killed before– he’s killed a man.”

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azrielsdove · 4 months

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Idk how you write such amazing work. Perhaps i could bother you for a request? Eris x reader x azriel.

Reader is Eris fiance and soon to be high lady. At a ball Azriels shadows swarm her curling around her neck and wrist. When they curl her exposed leg up to her thigh due to her dress she lets out the most bright contagious laugh (shes ticklish) and the bond snaps for azriel but not her. Im a sucker for a jealous azzy and some angst. ❤️❤️

Okay, I got a littleeee carried away with this one. Please let me know what you think!

Playing With Fire

Warnings: Lil angst, lil smut, 18+

***

You looked up into the eyes of your fiancé, spinning gracefully throughout the room. The Autumn Court High Lord was a fan of balls, and the announcement of his engagement was certainly reason enough to throw one. Eris looked down at you, a cunning smile on his face.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, eyes roaming over your body. You laughed, used to his sensuality.

“As always, dearest.” You responded, voice sultry. He held you tighter, eyes holding a promise for later.

You smiled at him as the song came to a close, pulling away to go grab a drink. You pressed a kiss to Eris’ cheek and headed to the edge of the room. A glass of wine now in your hands, you observed the party going on around you. The golden ring on your finger was heavy, a ruby situated in the middle of it. There was a certain power coming from it, an aura that commanded respect and attention.

Very similar to the male that gave it to you.

You felt something cold wrap around your ankle, looking down to see… a shadow? The little thing twirled around your leg, excited by your attention. You felt the same cool on your arms and neck, a small laugh coming from you. What were they doing? They didn’t feel malicious, just curious. You looked around the room, trying to determine who they belonged to.

A large winged male appeared next to you, face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, they aren’t listening to me.” He made a frustrated movement with his hands at them, but the shadows continued to swirl over you. One began to travel up the exposed skin of your thigh, a laugh breaking out from you.

You notice the male next to you stiffen and the shadows are suddenly pulled from your body. You look at him, hoping you hadn’t offended him. “My apologies, they tickled.” You explained a little sheepishly. He gave a curt nod, an unreadable expression in his face.

Eris chose that moment to find you, circling his arm around your waist as he stood next to you. “Azriel. What brings the Night Court spymaster out this fine evening?” Your fiancés tone was cold, clipped. He hadn’t been High Lord for very long, but the way he held himself right now radiated power like you’ve never seen.

The male with the wings- Azriel - stood straighter, matching Eris. “I came with Lucien to celebrate your engagement. Is that a problem, High Lord?” The title came out like an insult, a judgement. You didn’t know who this was, but your immediate reaction was to stand up for your love.

“Talk to him like that again and it will be.” You snapped, standing tall against him. His eyes shot to yours, surprise littering his features.

Eris smiled, his lips coming to press against the side of your neck. Azriel watched the action closely, a look like hunger shooting across his face. “She’s lovely, isn’t she Shadowsinger?” Eris taunted, moving to stand behind you. His lips continued kissing you, one hand splaying out over your stomach. You weren’t sure why he was doing this now, but your fiancés touch always riddled you breathless.

A soft moan left your lips as Eris bit on that sweet spot on your neck, the hand on your stomach dipping ever lower. Azriel’s wings fluttered, his hands in tight fists at his sides. “You like what you see, don’t you?” Eris continued his teasing, watching the other male closely.

Azriel was at a loss for words, too lost in the flush of pleasure on your cheeks. You noticed his intense stare, eyes shooting to the ground. Eris tucked his fingers under your chin, pulling your head up to look back at Azriel. “Now, now,” he chided, “my High Lady never backs down, does she?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, an internal war going on. Eris seemed to know what the problem was, smiling as he pulled you away from the male. “Enjoy the party, Spymaster.”

***

You broke away from the party early, heading back to your room. You left Eris to entertain, he was truly in his element at these parties. You were humming softly to yourself as you walked the halls of the palace, fingers trailing over the stone walls. You sensed a presence following you, your body stiffening at the possible danger.

You felt a cool brush against your leg again, looking down to see the little shadow from earlier. It curled around you affectionately, almost cute. “Hello,” you said to it, “What are you doing away from your master?” You gave a small laugh at the thing, watching it move around your leg.

“The same could be asked of you,” came a quiet voice, you turned to find the male from earlier.

“Excuse me?” You asked, not liking the implication of his words.

“You heard me. Where is your keeper?” There was a bite to his words, an anger in his eyes.

You straightened up, crossing your arms in front of you. “Eris has remained at the party. I have decided to go to bed, and if you’ll excuse me i’ll just be on my way.” You turned to continue walking to your room, stopped by a rough hand on your arm.

“He isn’t right for you.” It was almost a whisper, a strain for your ears to hear his words. You spun slowly towards him, cocking your head.

“And how, pray tell, do you know that?” You asked, holding your head high.

“He knows you’re the most powerful female in his court. Tell me, when did he show interest in you? Why would he approach you out of everyone else?” The hazel eyes were studying you, a sort of sorrow on his face.

“Who are you to ask me questions like this?” You didn’t want to trust him, but something about him was drawing you in.

“Someone who cares. Someone who knows things.” His hand released your arm, falling back to his side.

“Okay, Night Court Spymaster. What ‘things’ do you know that involve me and my fiancé?” You asked, intrigued by what he has to say.

He let out a sigh, eyes casting downward. “Eris is using you, my lady.”

The words were like a knife to your heart. “What? How?”

He looked back up at you, an apology in his eyes. “He knows he needs a strong High Lady by his side. It increases his power and respect. He sent out letters to all the males with daughters in the Court, asking for information. You outshone the others. Eris called a ball a week later, to meet his ‘true love’.” You nodded, remembering the night you met your fiancé clearly.

“He stumbled into you, seemingly on accident. The two of you hit it off and now here you are, engaged not but a few months later. I came tonight to gather information on what he was planning, and if you were in on it.” His hand shakily reached out and grabbed one of yours. “Then I saw you. And I knew you had no idea.”

You were stunned into silence, staring blankly at the male in front of you. You couldn’t deny that his words made sense, your father had received a letter before that ball. Eris did seem to know everything about you when you met, winning you over with charm and interest in the things you enjoyed. This male was not the first to bring up the quick engagement, you’ve heard the whispers yourself around Court.

“How can I trust you?” You asked quietly, pulling your hand back from his.

“I can’t show you now, you will have to come with me.” He informed, clasping his hands behind his back.

You debated in your head, your mind telling you not to trust this male you didn’t know. Yet something in your heart was gravitating towards him, telling you that he was being honest. If what he was saying is true, you may be in danger here. But if he’s lying, it will be a death sentence to go with him.

Voices came from down the hall, recognizable as Eris and one of his guards. You still weren’t decided, but you knew you didn’t want to be caught here with the winged Night Court male. You grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall, pushing him back into a cornered alcove. The two of you would be completely missed as long as no one looked into the dark corner.

Your back was pressed against his front, his hands coming to rest on your waist for balance. You held your breath, worried Eris would hear the hectic beating of your heart. The male behind you had to duck down a little against the low ceiling, his breath fanning across the back of your neck. You tried to ignore the fire spreading through your body at his touch.

Eris and his guard were getting closer, you pushed yourself harder against the Shadowsinger. He let out a small grunt, and you almost turned to apologize when you felt something hard against your back. His hands tightened on your waist, a small ‘o’ forming on your mouth as you realized what it was. It was wrong of you to enjoy this, especially when your fiancé was ten steps away.

Eris was right outside the alcove now, and to your horror he stopped. You heard him arguing with his guard, not paying any attention to what he was saying until you heard your name.

“That Spymaster knows what we are planning with her.” He was saying, voice agitated. His guard murmured in agreement. “She’s too valuable to lose. She has no idea the power that runs through her veins. I need her by my side if i’m going to take over the other courts.”

Take over the courts? Eris had never mentioned anything like that to you. He had only just gotten the Autumn Court High Lord title, what does he need with the rest?

The footsteps began again, Eris and his guard walking further down the hall. You stayed still, a million thoughts running through your mind. You suddenly darted out of the alcove, turning in panic to the male. “We have to go. Now. He’s going to notice i’m not in the bedroom and come looking.”

He nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You grabbed on, the world disappearing into a black cloud as he took you away from the only home you’d ever known.

***

Azriel landed you on the edge of the most beautiful city you had ever seen. You gazed at the glittering lights, amazed that a place like this exists in the Night Court. “This is Velaris,” he spoke quietly. “My home.”

The two of you stood there until you were satisfied, Azriel scooping you up into his arms. You looked at him wide-eyed, confused by his actions. He spread his wings and gave you a cocky smile. “We have to fly up to my house.”

You didn’t even have time to digest his words before he shot off into the sky, cool wind whipping your face. You dug your nails into his shirt, fear taking over your body. You had never been this high in the sky before, the night air harsh around you. He held you tighter, whispering to you that you were safe.

You didn’t think you breathed until your feet touched the solid ground of the massive house Azriel had brought you to. You barely had a second to adjust to the flight and your new surroundings before another male stepped out onto the balcony. You recognized him as Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court. He looked at you coolly, eyes flicking up to the male behind you.

You looked between them, noticing they were having some sort of mental argument. You knew the powers Rhysand possessed, Eris made sure you were up to date on everything about the other courts and their High Lords. Finally the other High Lord sighed, looking back to you. “Welcome to the Night Court. Azriel informs me that you overheard part of Eris’ plan regarding you. We have much to discuss.”

He turned and went back inside, leaving you and Azriel alone on the balcony. “You will sleep for now, and we will have a meeting in the morning.” He said, stepping up next to you. “Rhys wasn’t sure that we could trust you, so forgive the rather cold welcome.” He gave a small laugh with his words, one you did not return.

“I don’t know anything, Azriel.” You said quietly, ashamed of how easily you had been fooled by Eris. He took your hands reassuringly in his, making you look up at him.

“Do not discredit yourself, you will learn more tomorrow. But for now, you need rest. Come, i’ll show you to your room.”

***

Azriel had given you a tea to help you sleep, assuming your mind would be too busy to allow you rest. He said you needed to be as clear minded as possible for the meeting in the morning. You didn’t argue, drinking the sweet tea happily. You’d love to forget everything that had happened.

You woke up to the sun shining through the great windows in your room, it’s warmth welcome on your face. You stretched and crawled out of the bed, wearing a large shirt of Azriel’s he had given you last night. Your brain still told you it was wrong to be so comfortable with him, but that tug in your heart was louder. A knock came at your door, opening to reveal the very male plaguing your mind.

“I borrowed some clothes from Nesta, if you’d like.” He spoke politely, holding out a few different outfits for you. You took them with a ‘thank you’, moving to the bathroom to change. When you came out Azriel was waiting patiently for you, his eyes taking in your new appearance. The dark Night Court colors were different than the typical reds and golds you wore, but they were truly just as beautiful.

“Well, let’s go then.” Azriel said, leaving your room. You followed after him, nerves tight in your stomach. You weren’t sure what was expected of you here. Eris had never told you any of his plans, and you certainly hadn’t caught on to him using you. You and Azriel walked into a large meeting room, Rhysand already there. You noticed the High Lady sitting next to him, and another winged male. A female with short black hair was there as well, along with a deathly beautiful blonde. They were all looking at you, their gazes feeling a little overwhelming.

Azriel placed an arm around your waist for reassurance, leading you to a chair at the table. He sat next to you, prepared to help you against his friends. Your heart fluttered at his actions, and your mind yelled at you that you still had a fiancé. That they could be lying, that what Eris is planning may not be so bad. But even your mind couldn’t argue the words you heard from his own mouth.

“What has Eris told you?” Rhysand asked, jumping right in.

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, nervous with this new attention. Azriel placed his hand on your knee, giving you a comforting squeeze.

“I don’t believe that for a second. Be honest, girl.” The sharp words came from the silver-eyed female, glaring at you.

“I am being honest!” You retorted, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You looked back up to Rhysand, trying to prove your innocence. “Eris never brought up anything until I overheard him last night. He had never said anything more than me being his wife and High Lady, that together we would be the most ‘powerful duo.’ I didn’t think anything of it, assuming he either truly believed it or was flattering me with his words. Never did I think his plan was to take over Prythian!”

Rhysand studied you carefully, asking; “Will you let me in your mind? To see the truth.”

You nodded, willing to do anything to get those silver eyes off of you. You felt a strange sensation as Rhysand entered your mind, flicking through your memories with Eris. You blushed deeper as he opened some of the more intimate ones, humiliated that you trusted him so. When he was done the presence left your mind, and the look Rhysand now gave was kinder.

“She’s telling the truth. She had no idea.” You looked down in shame, wanting nothing more than to leave this room. Azriel’s thumb began stroking soothing circles on your leg, prompting you to look up at him.

“No one will judge you here. I promise.” He whispered, sending you a small smile. You failed to send one back, but placed your hand on top of his and squeezed in thanks.

“What do you know of your power that Eris so desperately wanted?” Rhysand asked, pulling your attention back to him.

“I don’t know. I was never trained, taught to only use them for typical household tasks. I’ve never gone deeper to see what’s there.” You explained, realizing how pathetic that sounded. How had you never noticed how sad your life was?

“Hm. I will have to train you myself, try to pull them out. It is imperative that we know what you can do.”

You nodded at his words, not looking forward to any sort of training session with the High Lord. “Eris will have realized you are missing by now, no doubt suspecting it was us who took you. You will have to remain hidden.”

“Of course,” you agreed politely. You had assumed as much, knowing there was no way you could return to the Autumn Court now.

“For now I will have Azriel return you to your room, until we decide what to do.” Rhysand dismissed the two of you, Azriel leading you back the way you came. You heard the murmur of voices pick up as the doors closed, knowing they were debating what to do with you. Where would you go if they decided it was too risky to keep you here?

***

A few weeks had gone by and there had been no sign of Eris. Nothing came from the Autumn Court about his missing fiancé, no rumors of anything that happened that night. You didn’t know whether to feel comforted or scared by that fact.

Your training with Rhysand was going well, uncovering the deep and dangerous fire in your veins. You were able to control the flames in a way that you had never seen, as if they were simply an extension of you. Even Lucien had been shocked watching you wield it, commenting that he could understand why his brother would try to capture this as his own.

You were growing more comfortable being around the others, but none quite as much as Azriel. He had quickly become your closest friend, making your transition to the Night Court as easy as possible. He was helping you physically train, getting strong and learning how to handle different weapons. There was an underlying tension you chose to ignore, memories of that night you hid with him in the alcove flooding your dreams.

You were in the small private library of the House when you heard shouts from down the hall. You pushed the door open just enough to see what was happening. You heard the clash of blades, fear shooting down your spine. A flash of red let you know Eris had somehow gotten up here. How? You knew you had to be flown up, the reason they kept you here.

“Where is she?!” He bellowed, fighting hard against Azriel.

“She’s not here.” He responded, slicing towards the other male.

“Lies! I can smell her. You can’t take my bride away from me!” Eris yelled.

“She doesn’t belong to you. She came willingly.” Azriel retorted, blade deflecting Eris’ attack.

“That docile little fox? She would never.” He sneered, the words sparking an anger in you. You couldn’t help yourself as you stepped through the doors, straight into his line of sight.

“I would, Eris.” You spoke, fire at the tips of your fingers. The fighting stilled, both males turning to look at you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Eris snorted, lowering his blade. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m willing to forgive this treachery if you come back with me. You know they will never treat you correctly here, not like I can.”

The fire grew in your hands as you stepped towards him. “This is your only warning, Eris. Leave, or I will make you. Is that how you want to return to your court, High Lord? Defeated by your old fragile bride?”

His gaze faltered, doubt crossing his features for a split second before being replaced by his cocky expression. “You? Take on me? I’d like to see you try.”

You took a step closer, the fire traveling up your arms. “Oh Eris, you know the power I hold. That’s why you chose me, isn’t it? Now that i’ve been training that power, is it really something you want to stand up against?”

He took a step back, the fear of what you could do winning. He sheathed his sword, glaring between you and Azriel. “This is not over. You are making a grave mistake.” He was gone before you could react, some strange power allowing him to leave the House.

Your fire quieted, retreating back down to nothing. You turned to Azriel, opening your mouth to say something, when you were interrupted by his lips against yours.

You didn’t immediately react, too shocked to understand what he was doing. One of his hands fell to your waist, the other cupping the back of your neck. You sunk into his touch, palms flat on his chest. “That,” he growled into the kiss, “was the sexiest act i’ve ever seen.” He pushed you backwards until your back touched the wall behind you, lips traveling from yours to your neck. You arched against him at his touch, the way every touch of his mouth was like fire against your skin.

“Azriel,” you murmured out, mind hazy. He nipped a sensitive spot on your neck at his name, a low moan falling from yours lips. He fell to his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs as he raised your skirt.

“I can’t handle it anymore. I need to taste you.” He groaned, kissing the exposed skin on your thighs. He pulled one leg over his shoulder, looking up at you to get your permission. The rational part of you was yelling that this was a bad idea, but the pull in your heart and the heat between your legs were screaming for him.

“Yes. Please.” You gasped, head falling back against the wall behind you as your hands tangled in his hair. He wasted no time in pulling your underwear to the side, licking up you. You moaned, hands tugging on his hair. You didn’t care that you were out in the open hallway, that anyone could walk by. The only thing you could focus on was the feel of Azriel’s tongue against you.

He sucked harshly against you, fingers coming up to tease your entrance. You ground against him, needing to feel him. He smiled against you, one finger slipping inside your waiting body. You tightened around him, mouth open in a silent scream. Eris had never made you feel this good so quickly. The pull in your heart was growing stronger as Azriel explored you, heightening your pleasure in a way you’ve never experienced.

He added another finger, curling them perfectly inside you. His lips and tongue were attacking you, sucking and biting in the most delicious way. Your mind was going blank, the only thing on it was his name. You felt yourself about to break, your pleasure ready to take over you. “Azriel, Azriel i’m-“ You were cut off by a harsh suck and his fingers working you perfectly, a shuddering moan being ripped from your body.

“That’s right, cum for me.” He instructed, keeping his movements steady. You bit your lip as the orgasm washed over you, trying to keep from screaming. Azriel pushed you through it, prolonging your pleasure as long as possible. Gasping breath after gasping breath fell from your lips, your body shaking against him. If it wasn’t for the force of him keeping you up you would have collapsed.

Azriel removed his mouth and fingers from you, standing up to tower over you. You look up into his lust-blown eyes and that tug in your heart erupts. Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, feeling that impenetrable golden string between the two of you. “Oh,” you whisper, mind still hazy from the events of a minute ago.

He slowly leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “Do you understand now why I couldn’t leave you there?” He whispers against you, pulling you close. You nod, shocked beyond words. Azriel was your mate.

***

Note: I don’t think Eris is truly an evil guy but he had to be for this story ! For my Eris lovers out there i’m sorryyyy

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris x you #eris x y/n

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