#another thing he cannot brush off is how affectionate reader is with him with no hesitation <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 9 months

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happy haunting

AN | Okay, this is purely self indulgent but this is totally me and I wish I had an Eddie to do fun fall and halloween things with! So enjoy a little early Halloween shopping fun 🥰

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | modern!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you know how much I love you?” you kept your attention trained on the pretty autumn flowers that the florist had on display outside of the shop. Eddie was holding your hand, fingers laced together as he followed you around like a lovesick puppy. You turned to him with a big, soft smile on your face, “because it’s a lot. I love you so, so much it’s not even measurable.”

He softened, a grin on his face that mirrored your own as he pulled you closer to him. Before you could protest he took your face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to your soft lips, “I love you…but you’re up to something.”

“I am deeply offended and upset, sir,” you playfully clutched at your chest as he snorted in amusement, “that you would think I’m up to something! I just love you and wanted to let you, the love of my life, know that I love you.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed as he reached for your hand again before he pulled you inside of the shop, “whatever you say.”

“Eddie-”

“Come on,” he was already heading to the counter, “I saw you eyeing those flowers out front.”

“Edward.”

“I just think the flowers would look in the kitchen,” he played it off like he was the one that had wanted the flowers in the first place. It was one of the many things you loved about him; he was so kind and always giving, giving, giving, “let me get my girl the things she wants, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sighed wistfully, “okay.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re up to?” Eddie took a sip of his beer as you sat on the kitchen counter, sipping on a cider, “because I will get it out of you one way or another.”

“Nothing,” you insisted, knowing full well that he absolutely did not believe you. He put his bottle down and stood between your legs, his arms caging you, “you’re bullying me! Don’t bully me, meanie!”

“Come on Barbie,” he leaned in so his nose was brushing against yours, his lips so close but so far away. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach at the use of his sweet little nickname for you.

The first time he called you that, long before you really knew him and even longer before you started dating, you’d thought he meant it as an insult. You were the opposite of him, so literally in so many ways, and he loved it. You were the pretty, sweet little thing and he was the rough metalhead. He still loved seeing the reactions people had when he came up to you and you reached for him without even thinking about it. It was especially amusing to him when some douchebag tried to hit on you. You were everything, and he was merely your humble servant; god knows he would have done anything for you.

“Eddie,” you were practically willing him to kiss you but he still refused, “kiss me, please.”

“So polite,” he gave in, just a little bit with the lightest of kisses, “my little Barbie. But you won’t get any more until you tell me what’s going on.”

You leaned back, sighing loudly and dramatically, raising a pink manicured hand to your forehead as he laughed affectionately, “fine. Fine. Will you, my love, come me with tomorrow to go Halloween hunting?”

He paused for a moment, clearly not expecting that to be what you had been so dramatically concealing with him. But then, when he saw the expectant look on your face he couldn’t help but tut gently at you, “what the hell is Halloween hunting, Barbie?”

And then you scoffed. You scoffed and that made him laugh. You crossed your arms over your chest and attempted to give him a serious expression, “you cannot be serious, Edward Munson.”

“I...why not?” he raised an eyebrow, brushing his knuckles across your pinked cheek, “is this some weird internet thing I don’t understand?”

“You’re such an old man sometimes,” you reached for his hand and gently clutched it in yours, “I mean it affectionately. But how have you not heard of this?”

“Alright, tell me what’s so important and magical about this hunting you would like to do.”

“Basically…we hit up the home stores and look for all the Halloween and fall stuff!” your eyes lit up so much that even Eddie felt himself grow excited at the prospect. He was so gone and weak for you that if something made you happy, it made him happy. But then -

“It’s summer,” he stated suddenly as you looked at him sheepishly, “it’s like…the middle of summer.”

“And…?” you blinked at him in confusion with big, wide eyes, “it’s going to be Halloween-”

“In like three months!”

“But,” you stopped for a moment, a pout on your pretty pink lips that he wanted to kiss away, “it’s my favorite time of year. A-and I this is our first Halloween living together so I thought it would be fun to decorate and go all out..”

He hated seeing you even slightly upset. Nope, nope, nope. You wanted to decorate and go all out? He’d buy you anything and everything that you wanted. He’d turn the whole apartment into the spooky home of your dreams. He gently shushed you before any tears could run down your face, “then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll make this the best place ever - we’ll make everyone jealous. You want to go and do this halloween hunting? We’ll go tomorrow.”

You made a small sound of excitement as you beamed at him, “really!? Wait, are you sure? I don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he promised softly as you leaned into the warm touch of his hand, “we’ll go and get brunch, and then we can get some of those fancy iced coffees and go look at all the stores. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you threw your arms around him and held onto him tightly before pulling back to press a kiss to his cheek, “you’re perfect to me. I love you so much. We’re gonna have the best day ever!”

“Every day with you is the best day ever,” he kissed, fully and sweetly this time, letting his lips get properly reacquainted with yours, “I love you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie took you to your favorite spot for brunch, which was a cute little place with a garden patio. He thought you looked so pretty, but then again, he thought that every day, and even managed to snap a few pictures of you. He wasn't big on social media even though he was in a band, but often kept the pictures he took for himself. Although if you did look at his IG you'd find it filled with mostly photos of you or his guitars (but let's be honest, you were the bright, pretty star of his account).

After you were both thoroughly stuffed, the two of you went for a walk and ran a few weekly errands like getting some groceries for the week. Once all the boring adult stuff - as you had dubbed it - was completed, the two of you went off to the cafe down the street from your apartment.

You were mildly disappointed, but not surprised, to find that summer drinks were still in full swing and it would be a few weeks before the fall menus were out. Eddie had chuckled fondly before pressing a kiss to the side of your head and promising to get you all the pumpkin coffees you wanted as soon as they came out. And just who were to say no to that?

Once you were situated with your silly little iced coffee, Eddie took drove the two of you to the first of the stores you'd suggested. Even something as simple as driving around with you was fun for him; you made the mundane exciting. He always kept a hand on your thigh or held your hand. You always got to pick the music, but you knew that while your tastes overlapped on some things, you had varied tastes. You often picked music that he preferred, just to hear him sing along. Today you settled on something in the middle and Eddie listened to you sing along happily, only stopping to point out cute dogs.

"Okay," once Eddie parked, you turned in your seat to look at him, "this is serious business. Gotta keep our eyes peeled for all good stuff."

He shook his head before leaning over the console and settling a sweet kiss, "serious business. Noted."

"Oh Eddie," you reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him back for a few more kisses, "I love you so much. Thank you for putting up with me."

"Baby, it's never putting up either you," he insisted softly, "I love doing you and doing all of these things with you. There's nothing that could make me happier."

"Ugh," you scoffed softly, "you're perfect. You always know what to say."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Barbie," he tenderly bumped your chin with his knuckle, "c'mon now - we've got serious business!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that Eddie noticed as soon as you were in the first store was the looks that the two of you were getting. He was dressed in his normal choice of ripped skinny ripped and a band shirt, topped off with a flannel and a pair of heavy combat boots, chains jingled at his side. His hair was in a messy bun, a few curly tendrils falling out and framing his face. He looked so ridiculously good that it was almost unfair. Meanwhile you were in a pretty pink sundress and sandals, skin glowing from the summer sun you'd been getting, with your hair soft and loose. A walking juxtaposition that always garnered a few looks, but you almost never noticed and Eddie just found it amusing.

Your coffee was in one hand, the other already entwined with Eddie's as you headed towards the aisles where you caught glimpses of Halloween décor.

"Ooh," there was a bright smile on your face as you made a sound of delight at the freshly stocked aisles, "look at all the things!"

"So many things," he agreed as you headed over to a section with wall and door signs. He could see the joy reflected in your face, this was definitely your favorite thing. He always found it amusing that you were so soft and dainty but you had a love for all things spooky and dark and gory. One of the first things you'd bonded over was your love of horror movies after all.

"Eddie," you picked a sign off the shelf that boasted it's not a haunted house, it's a haunted home with cute little ghosts decorating it, "it's so cute! It would look perfect near the front door!"

"Hmm," he looked at some of the other signs and grabbed one that read welcome to our haunted house, "this one is also pretty cute!"

"Ugh, yes it is," you were looking back and forth at them, serious contemplation on your features, "they're so many cute signs! We could even decorate the outside of the door. And then - ooh! Skulls!"

How could he have forgotten your skull collection? It was pretty impressive. This was, as you liked to remind him, not just seasonal decor but year round decor, "maybe they'll have some promising ones to add to the collection."

"I sure hope so," you delicately put the signs back and took his hand to lead him to the next display, "there weren't a lot of good ones last year."

"Well, the season is young," he grinned as you held up your hand dismissively, "plenty of time to find the perfect ones."

"And we can get started early," you turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek before holding up a pastel pink and gold skull, "everyone will be talking about us!"

"Don't worry, they already do," he took the skull from your hands and set it into the basket hanging from his arm. Yeah, he knew to be well prepared.

"Duh," you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "that's because you're a rockstar!"

"I'm hardly a rockstar," he played you off, feeling his cheeks grow hot from your praise. Corroded Coffin was getting bigger all the time, but he still remained humble and thankful, and kept his day job as a mechanic, "that's definitely not why."

"Hmm," you turned back to him and studied him intently, "I think you're wrong, but I still love you more than anything. You'll always be my rockstar, even when we're old."

"Of course," he loved when you talked about the future; the idea that you wanted him forever made him feel so warm and loved. He already knew that you were his future too - he was going to make you his wife one day, "you'll always be my queen and I am but your humble servant."

You turned back to him with the softest expression that made his knees weak, "you, Edward Munson, are my dork and I adore you more than anything."

"I adore you too," his cheeks pinked as he looked at his feet, finding it almost impossible to look into your eyes, "anything else catch your eye?"

"So much!" You grinned as pointed at a portrait of two skeletons lying together and slowly being consumed by moss, "look! It's us one day!"

"That's metal," he reached for it and added it to the handbasket, "that's one going in the bedroom!"

"Now you're getting into the spirit!" You paused for a moment before giggling at your own joke, "it makes sense that you like me so much, you know."

"Oh?" He reached up and tenderly brushed off a few stray pieces of flutter that had fallen onto your cheeks, "why's that, Barbie?"

"Because I'm hilarious!"

"Mhmm," the two of you exchanged sweet smiles as you gently squeezed his hand, "I love you for so many reasons."

"And I you," you grabbed another little table decoration and held it out to show him, "enough that you'll go to a couple of other stores with me?"

"Of course," he would do anything for you, "of course."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time the two of you made it home, it was already late but you were so happy. After shopping around for what seemed like hours, Eddie suggested two of you just go out for dinner, which you had no problem with, and you decided you would go to his favorite spot for dinner. Plus, this time you were able to get the bill before him, insisting that this was a small thank you for the wonderful day he had given you.

You’d shared the collective duty of hauling everything into the apartment, which consisted of several large bags of fall and Halloween goodies. You’d tried to be good and only get an item or two, you really had, but Eddie had insisted on getting the things you wanted. You wanted the ultimate spooky and cozy apartment for the season? Eddie was going to give it to you.

“Today was so fun,” you were sitting at your vanity, going through your skincare routine as Eddie laid in bedroom, working on his laptop. You caught his eye in the mirror and he offered you a toothy grin, “thank you.”

“I had fun too,” he promised, shooting you a quick wink, “everything is fun with you.”

“Eddie,” you finished applying your moisturizer and turned around so you were facing him. You definitely had his attention now, and he closed his laptop and put it on the nightstand to look at you. You were wearing a set of silky pink pajamas, ones that he definitely wouldn’t have minded getting off later, and a freshly clean face. You were so beautiful, even at the end of day without a stitch of makeup on, which you often didn’t fully believe.

“C’mere,” he motioned for you to join him on the bed and you did so with a dramatic huff at you sat cross legged at the end of the bed, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“You know…you know I’m not just with you for money or whatever, right? I don’t wanna make it seem like I just want to be with you because you do all these nice things with me and for me,” his eyebrows raised in confusion as you played with a loose thread on the edge of your pajama shorts, “I feel like you’re always doing things for me and I love and appreciate it, but I just wanna make sure you know I love you. I just want you, the other things don’t matter.”

“Of course I know that,” his easy answer made you relax slightly, “I never once doubted that. I never would have thought of that.”

“Okay,” you let out a small sigh of relief, “I just…I wanna do things for you too, you know? I want to make sure you know that you are the most important thing to me.”

“I know that,” he held out his hand to you and you put your hand in his and let him pull you into his lap. He settled his large hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “you do lots of things for me too, even though you apparently haven’t noticed. On top of all that, I like doing things for you and taking care of you. You’re my girl, Barbie. Always will be, and I like spoiling you. Even with silly little things like this halloween hunting you love so much.”

“Maybe it is silly,” you pressed your forehead against his, “but you had fun too!”

“I did,” he nudged his nose with yours, “I always do. I love you.”

“I love you,” you kissed him softly, in a way that left him yearning for more. He could never get enough of you, “you gonna let me take care of you?”

“Whaddaya me…oh,” you loved that you were still able to make him get all shy and flustered, “you don’t have you to.”

“I wanna,” you insisted, giving him a kiss that slowly turned more hungry and needy, “let me love on you since you’ve been doing it all day for me.”

“I-I if you’re sure,” you put a finger to his lips and gently shushed him.

“I’m sure,” you promised, “my love.”

“Okay,” he swallowed thickly, his eyes practically the embodiment of heart eyes, “okay. Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

“Funny,” you whispered, peppering his face in kisses, “I’m so in love with you, Eddie Munson.”

“Always?”

“And then some more.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st #happy halloween #this is the dream

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sku1 · 3 months

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II ☨𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ☨ II Burn into flames angst

oneshot! Elijah Mikaelson x Hayley Marshall! Reader x Elijah onesided love! closed/Jealous(?) off reader!

Summary; Y/N isn't good with feelings and can't come to terms with the fact that Elijah cannot love her the way she craves. Elijah is just a big softie for his dearest friend, trying to provide her with comfort but ends up doing the opposite :'(

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Why was Elijah so hell bound to protect Halyley? why did he always put himself in harms way for a woman carrying another man's baby— his brother's baby, so why, just why was he so hell bent on protecting her?

You knew why, he had fallen for her, fallen for a woman he had only known for a few months. Honestly you just could understand why, out of all people to fall for, why her?

You just couldn't wrap your head around it, you had been with the originals for as long as they had been around, yet you just couldn't wrap your head around it,

Maybe it was the jealousy speaking, maybe it was because you were in a state of disbelief but whatever it was it had a grip on you, most of the time you spaced out, staring at the walls as if it were the most interesting in your years of being alive.

And sometimes it was Kol snapping you back to reality, and sometimes, just sometimes, you wished it was Elijah pulling you back to reality and not his brothers. It was a selfish and stupid thought on your part, you buried it deep down, despite the little hope that sparked every time you looked to see who had driven you back to reality.

you needed to get a grip of yourself, you were Y/N Y/L/N, the closed off woman whom stood loyal at his side, you were his friend, his companion, his closet friend. he would never look at you the way he does with Halyley,

You had come to that reality a long time ago when you first saw Elijah with a woman that was not you, smiling affectionately at another woman in a way he hadn't with you, so you buried how you felt for his sake. Praying he wouldn't gain on you.

Then it happened, you were again, seemed a little too preoccupied staring intently at the wall, lost deep on thought, Elijah had just finished helping Halyley settle down hope when he had found you in this state, it was a state he was far too familiar with.

The kind where you don't know if your drunk or just stuck in an endless loop of despair.

His heart ached at the sight, he hated seeing you like this, lost in a space of void, seemingly deep in your mind. With a sigh he stacked closer, gently settling his glass down as to not startle you.

He watched you for a moment, taking in your state of thought, the glass cup that was barely hanging by a thred in your fingertips, the way you would sigh, clench and unclench your jaw every now and than. He saw the ragging battle that sate within you.

That ragging storm that he too, was once familiar with, he wanted to help, to support you in any way, but he couldn't not if he didn't know the root of the problem.

After a few minutes of silent watching and thinking the sound of glass slipping and falling against the ground, snapped both of you out of your trace. When your gaze flickered towards his, your heart sank.

What was he doing here? why was he here? how long had he been here? numerous thoughts ran through your head as you stared him blank face, never once blinking or breaking eye contat.

''Are you okay?''

''What?''

''Y/n, I asked if you were okay, are you okay?''

''Yes, I'm fine, old friend. Why wouldn't I be?'' Your reply came out almost forced, like you had intended to say something else but blurred out the first thing that came to mind as you stood up and brushed yourself off of any glass that may had fallen on you.

Elijah frowned his brows, picking up on it almost immediately, and you cured under your breath for not being able to convince him you were fine.

''No, you are not, tell what is bothering you. I'm sure I can help with it.'' Elijah pressed feather, trying to get you to fess up and confind in him like he had done with you many times before.

''Lijah, I told you I'm fine,'' You sighed as you began to pick up the shattered pieces of glass and dispose of them in the bin.

''No, you are not.''

''Yes, I am, 'Lijah,'' You argued back, biting back ever word you wanted to say to him.

''You are being dishonest,'

''Elijah, what are you imply—''

''You are lying to me, I can see it, your tone of voice, the slight tremble in your ever step, and the ragging battle that you are fighting within yourself.''

Your stood stunned, glass shards in your hands as your heart sank into your stomach where you that readable that Elijah was able to see the ragging storm inside you? you had prided yourself on keeping yourself in check. Much like Elijah, but it seems as though you had failed.

''What did you just say?''

''I said I know you're lying to me—''

''Don't.'' You whispered, unable to voice or even come close to expressing how you felt in that moment.

''What?''

''Don't, 'Lijah, just— don't...please''

Now he was really concerned about you, of all his years of knowing you, he had never not once heard you plead like this. Like someone had hurt you, like you were wounded.

''Y/n, please. Tell what bothers you this much, clearly it is something or rather...someone—'' Before he could even finish you had vanished out of his sight. He sighed deeply, running and ran through his hair, feeling an overwhelming guilt for not being able to help you, without realising he was the cause of the problem. He just wanted to help his close friend whom he'd spent years with.

#Elijah mikaelson angst #elijah x reader #elijah x halyley #onesided love #y/n isn't good with feelings #elijah mikealson imagine

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masuchist · 2 years

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TOUCH IT, MY TAIL 03

Genshin Impact . . Kazuha Kaedehara, Thoma, Gorou, Itto Arataki, Ayato Kamisato, Heizou Shikanoin

Good girls get rewards.

fem reader, yandere, dubious content, collars, praising, vaginal fingering, size differences, master/pet dynamics, predator/prey dynamics, marking, you’re shared between thoma ayato and ayaka in this au, mentions of murder/cannibalism, implied cunnilingus, corruption, breeding

Kazuha Kaedehara, and the Kitty On Deck.

─ When he first boarded the Crux Fleet, never did one expect the boisterous captain to have a cat with them of all animals. Don’t those graceful felines despise huge bodies of water? What would one gain from being so close to the edge, planks away from their supposed nemesis? Whatever the case may be, you are considered another one of the underlings, or rather a domesticated animal to be exact. You keep insisting that you are not but the miniature bell dangling freely from your collar notifying anyone of your presence tells a different story. Plus, the crew-mates aren’t certainly helping the argument as they praise and scratch behind your ears anytime they’d cross paths and you’d purr affectionately out of instinct, before withdrawing to save face.

Not that there’s much left to retain, anyway.

─ Your precious Beidou, the one who rescued you from the wilderness is caught up in a stormy sea of responsibilities, throwing her around left-to-right, busying her from head-to-toe. Captain duties calls persistently. One cannot simply abandoned them because someone feels lonely. There are better things to attend to as much as she cares for you which is why you are left alone in the private corridors most of the time trying to find another source to keep you occupied. Her lack of attentiveness is disheartening, feeling the space between you two gradually widen with time, but what can you do?

This is where Kazuha makes an appearance.

─ Why not tend to the ship’s beloved mascot? Not many take the time to properly check up on you, only the obligatory ‘how are you doing’ or typical warm greetings - they all started to blend together. Despite being surrounded by the people who can be considered family, a small part of you still feels isolated like you don’t belong here. A stranger in your own home; unable to naturally hop into their hearty conversations over past adventures because you weren’t present during that period. He understands. That, and they keep referring to you as a pet only. Isn’t that a little cruel? The way he views it, you’re still considered human. And if you follow mindlessly after him, a stray cat, he’ll treat you the same.

Eventually, Kazuha will ask Beidou a huge favor when the juncture provides.

He’s been nothing but loyal.

13. Warmth

You’re in his private corridors for tonight at his brief request.

Cute whines can be heard among the serene night, with your soft palms clutching onto white bedsheets trying your hardest to keep down these strange noises from leaking out of the room. It’s more than embarrassing. That, and you don’t want to disturb others resting in their peaceful sleep. Beidou had sent everyone on their own personal missions over the week, keeping each one occupied until their limbs felt like crumbling off their sore bodies. Everyone must’ve been terribly exhausted, and for that -

You don’t want to take their solitude away.

“Kazuha.. Aah, feels w-weird.”

They’re music to his ears. A song you must never share with a vindictive world. He’ll never get sick of eliciting these addictive sounds. He’ll never get sick of this, you being unable to comprehend the warmth brewing between your thighs, glassy tears poking at cat-like eyes as you try and stifle a moan. Adorable, he thinks, with his careful fingers brushing against sensitive, tight walls as he stares passionately, imprinting the sight before him at the back of his mind permanently - and his pace starts to get faster, forcing more lewd sounds out of you.

His full attention dead set, watching the way you mewl between shaky breaths, eyes shut tight afraid of meeting his own (in fear, or shame.) Face flushed, blouse unbuttoned revealing your breasts with hickeys scattered all over them and on your cute tummy from his surprisingly possessive assault.

Kazuha’s always been gentle. Even during these moments.

“Don’t be scared, [Name],” he murmurs lightly, forehead grazing your own for added comfort, “It’s not scary to feel good.”

Don’t stop yourself from what your body craves.

You don’t.

Thoma, and the House Puppy.

─ He is the Kamisato’s official and only housekeeper. An efficient worker, one on his own accord because such position gives him a better sense of responsibility, control. Every morning is an opportunity to improve oneself; assisting those in dire need of help around the nearest town. Thoma is up before the sun could make its grand appearance, tending to a long list of chores that falls all the way down to his ankles with an elated grin. Laundry, cooking, cleaning - he does it all professionally. More tasks that troubles the clan will be dealt with by him personally if they are shorthanded, which is to say - all the time. Not that he minds. Allows more room for improvement in areas he still has yet to hone: bargaining, brawling, blackmailing, you name it.

─ His favorite duty of the day is to attend to the house pet. A cute little puppy all caged up, hungry for attention and affection, or so they say. Your whimpers to be released from these inhuman confines are always ignored, Thoma whistling to himself as he prepares the treats and the dreaded tether to attach to that expensive, darling little collar the esteemed family is proud of presenting. Dehumanizing. You’ve been in their ‘care’ for about three months now (hard to count without a calendar or a clock in hand), there’s not much to do besides close your eyes and rest in this limited space, waiting endlessly for someone to come home. Even if they provided a generously sized cage, enough to where you can somewhat stretch in these confines, soft bedding and a couple miscellaneous items to keep one entertained, you never asked for this. Taking in someone, a human - half-human, to be their pet is depraved. Even for them.

But who will speak up?

─ There’s a few things Thoma recalls regarding their puppy. Play nice, Ayaka encourages. She’s just too sweet on you, always willing to feign a blind eye to any types of misbehavior. A little nibbling never hurt, and if it did, she’ll just patch those loving wounds right back up thinking of it to be playful behavior. On the other hand, Ayato tells him to resort to discipline if needed. Dogs should already have obedience engrained in them. It is in their adoring nature, but for you in particular... Some more work still needs to be done which is why he’d tasked Thoma to handle the strict enforcement during his absences. A ton of commitment goes into training a pet..

Fortunate that he likes you.

14. Appeasement

The cage door swings wide open.

Thoma’s staring rather affectionately at the half-asleep puppy, coaxing them into getting ready for their daily ”afternoon walk” around the premises. Occasionally, you’re lead around the nearby city in front of many, many citizens going about their day. They’re used to this sight at this point, normalized even, greeting Thoma followed by them cooing over you, the adorable pet. A medium-length leash tucked in his capable hand, tugging on it lovingly forcing you to crawl on your bare hands and knees as would an animal over to them, considering you are one.

Not just any animal; theirs.

Right now you don’t bother listening, limbs glued to the ground refusing to step out. Not out of spite, but out of pure exhaustion. Master Ayato had his way with you last night wanting to vent after an annoying meeting between difficult parties unwilling to come to a compromise.

A mistake on your end, they don’t take disobedience lightly.

You know this.

“… Ah?”

That, he questions lightly with his olive, slanted eyes narrowing, a playful chirp ringing in his delighted voice to pair off with an unsettling smile. A gloved hand caresses the skin of your thighs, soothing the soreness brought by your doting master prior, rubbing invisible circles into them, the other petting your head as your tail wags eagerly at the attention.

It’s not you, it’s your body reacting by nature. You do not like this.

You’ll try and convince yourself leaning closer to his comforting touch, at ease, for once... Before cruel fingers dug themselves into flesh, making you whimper, a kicked puppy.

“Puppy.. Why are you throwing a fit now? Do I have to treat this as if it were punishment? I don’t want to do that to our favorite girl.”

Pause.

“Well,” he chuckles quietly to himself, “not as of now.”

And punishments, the mind can think of so much. They’re rattlingly creative in that department, determining which method is effective in keeping a disobedient mutt in line. Not that this was an arduous task. Anything they come up with always leaves you malleable and weak. One of them happens to be like a ‘walk-in-the-park’, but it’s during midnight and you have been stripped of the comfort of warm clothes and any remaining rights you had - forced to put up with chilly weather, wind running against your sensitive bare body.

Then being lead around the headquarters naked, exposed, even when there isn’t a lot of people present does wonders on the psyche. This doesn’t happen too often, but when it does you’d even consider digging a six-feet grave with your name carved onto it. An escape through death; desperation. You think about this constantly, and consistently. It’s the only way out of their reach knowing the lengths they’d go into keeping what is theirs.

As for now, you just need to behave to avoid further punishment — cowering — nodding your head in defeat. It is in best interest.

“Good girl.”

A satisfying click can be heard.

The leash has been attached as advised.

Gorou, and the Cowering Bunny.

─ You were presented on a pricy pedestal as an anniversary gift; provided by Priestess Kokomi for knowing where his loyalty lies: with the Sangonomiya clan, the righteous group. Gorou’s never thought about anything else other than claiming victory on their end. Was there any room for another being to occupy his life? Especially someone so fragile.. and small? He doesn’t reach an answer until the sight of your droopy ears dangle off to the side, trembling under his scrutinizing gaze - hoping that this was another one of your sick dreams and not actually happening in present time. But beasts feast on fear and he can already taste it off you.

He licks his fang.

─ It was tame at the start. To begin with you were bestowed during the fight for emancipation. A rabbit does not belong on the chaotic battlefield but safe in their obscure burrows. For the most part you’re left alone with a temporary caretaker, someone who will actually have patience and pure intentions - you’ll miss them plenty when your real partner comes back to pay lots of attention to you after the decree has been settled at once and the opportunity to try and run away completely disappears. Now, he can enjoy his present to the fullest without any distractions flocking by. You, and him; nothing else to ruin this moment. But just wait till you both hit mating season, an imminent event that’ll have him breeding you for days until you’re hardly conscious, his seed overflowing from your abused pussy and him making sure none of it goes to waste - there is no way that you haven’t been knocked up.

You’ll bare a lot of children for him whether you want to or not.

─ Even the forces recognize you: the General’s prey - er, friend? Not that they care to sweat over any details. Gorou’s reclusive regarding his private affairs. They’ll see him as an understanding commander, one who just wants what is best for them as he does you. They’ll look out as well when he brings you at a camp just to keep an eye even if you’ve never attempted to escape, not once. With bandages wrapped all around a frail body littered in prominent hickeys, playful bites, and light scratch marks - avoiding contact with his comrades in fear of being condemned. Signs of ownership, possessiveness, and just the way he pushes his hungry love onto you.

Gorou cannot help it, you’re just too cute to not eat!

15. Delirium

On the battlefield, he is known for being ruthless.

Exhilaration floods in his system like a dangerous stimulant, running to his head as he rips through waves of faceless enemies using his strengthened claws and his sharpened teeth. Blood runs down his chapped lips - staining his uniform, but Gorou never falters. The lust for carnage persists until there is no longer anyone left to devour.

Victory tastes defined, fresh.

Copper staining his tongue, his teeth, his uniform - dripping from the corners of a wicked mouth as incisive canines latch onto unsuspecting invaders, penetrating flesh, tearing through muscles and tissue seamlessly as if it were his last meal.

To persist, to overthrow, to conquer.

And remember, it is not violence if they were vermin.

With the creaky door slamming wide open startling the poor wounded rabbit curled up in a lonely corner failing to seek comfort through darkness. An enemy you used to fear of, now a close friend that you’d hope would swallow your existence whole.

Gorou stands alert at the doorway, light blinding you momentarily trying to adjust to the sudden exposure.

A delirious glint glows in his teal blue eyes, scanning around the room for his enticing prey. When he coos out a name, yours, that has unknowingly enchanted him with an audacious spell, your heart wails and you cry.

He’s home.

Arattaki Itto, and the “Abandoned” Cat.

─ It just happened.. On one random excursion. His faithful lackeys stumbling upon a lost kitty cat in the dense mountains when searching for scraps left by petty treasure hoarders, Shinobu to be exact, and Itto never lessening a possessive hold. If you happened to be someone else’s, then too bad for them. Finders keepers - you’re his prized cat now! He’ll declare himself as your kind owner from there on out ignoring any complaints following a suit. Don’t worry, his loyal goons reassure you that their boss will treat you far well than the average human. Better than that! What’s not to like when Itto is providing everything besides privacy…

And are pets really in need of that?

─ He isn’t aware of how delicate you truly are. You’re usually found writhing in his suffocating grasp, being carelessly swung around like a cheap rag-doll from a thrift market. He carries you everywhere if safe to do so for extra moral support and is very shameless on displaying affection, confirming everyone’s suspicion that you are much more than what he states. Sweet of the troublemaker of the town to take in a defenseless kitty. Perhaps enough for them to almost forgive the gang’s silly shenanigans, your cuteness can be weaponized against many if used correctly.

─ You’re even tinier compared to his build, difference apparent. Putting you two side-by-side is comical to the eyes. You look like you’d break easily, crumble at even the slightest nudge. Is that why you sought protection from someone of a larger physique? ... Laughable, if only they knew how durable you truly are. Itto would know. Your small body somehow taking all of him, that visible tummy bulge, you being unable to produce a single thought, tongue lolling out, drooling. A face so fucked out, eyes rolled back - tearing away what little restraint he had from destroying you.

You’re like a favorite toy. Don’t worry, he won’t throw you away if you become wearied out, or broken.

16. Aftercare

“You need to be more mindful. You’ll break her at this rate.”

Someone mumbles under their breath.

The obscene sight hardly phases them, no. Frankly, this happens too often to be repulsed at this point. The Arataki Gang’s boisterous leader is known for inhumane stamina that comes with his unique traits, no human endurance could compare - and certainly not a petite kitty.

For that, a night with him holds no end.

Itto huffs, wiping the sweat and the enormous grin off his face. Even with some vigor left, he’d hold back. Someone is here. As much as there is pride in showing off fine results of his hard work, there’s no reason for anyone else to see you like this. Call it possessiveness.

“.. She can handle anything.” At the cost of your sobriety.

They clicked their tongue, hiding their disgust behind hardened eyes - in some way, keeping a calm composure, “Very well. Don’t come complaining later then.”

With a final pitiful look, one that feels like an eternity, they flee the room in immediate relief of the stifling room, door closing behind.

Itto’s gaze drifts down; heart melting.

He’s silently admiring his piece of art; a sick sense of satisfaction present in him. And you’re left disheveled, mascara mixed in with running tears and thick cum smeared all over your tiny body, ruined once again. Recovering, trying to find stability in between desperate wheezes for oxygen. But you’re still beautiful, he thinks.

A beautiful mess, and he’s the culprit.

Ayato Kamisato, and the Caged Puppy.

─ When his precious, darling little sister brought up the idea of tending to a pet, he thought that to be a wonderful idea! Sometimes the estate can be a little too quiet for their refined taste. A tamed animal would be able to brighten the dreary surroundings, filling the still air with contagious liveliness. Not that the siblings had to worry about any emergency absences, Thoma can handle another job on top of his other duties. The house trusts their keeper that much, even considering him to be a part of what is left of their family. No one is surprised when their young master returns home smiling with a collared ‘puppy’ trailing behind him helplessly.

They found one.

─ When they say puppy, they mean it. Even if Ayato is hardly present in the morning, he makes it up all in the afternoon and/or night. Bringing home thoughtful gifts fitting for a dog: treats meant for tamed animals, frisbees to play fetch with, and the occasional… toy. You’d only indulge in them out of boredom much to his sick amusement. Not many things to do locked away in an comfortable enclosure, anyways. There’s two bowls meant for you in the kitchen, for water and for food. You don’t eat food prepared specifically for a dog - you’re forced to eat like one, on the hard floor. He loves watching you who wavers, before bending your head down to lap up some water obediently. Ah, who can forget the custom-ordered lavish collar wrapped around your neck, ‘Kamisato’ imprinted in beautiful Kanji on it in case you’d run loose.

And yes, every time he arrives at home you will meet him at the doorway, starving for praise. You’ll do it all in order to appease him, if not for the sake of being allowed to move around without eagle-like supervision, not trapped behind iron bars.

─ Once the adorable puppy has accepted their place, then everything starts to get a little better. The cage no longer being a home, but rather a space to conduct punishment. You’ll have a personal little bed in the corner of his tidy room, maybe some small toys, Ayato preferred if his chambers were clean (considering he hardly remains there besides night, how can it possibly get dirty?). So why don’t you just give in? You might be able to sleep in his bed, with him, if you’re a really good girl.

Obedience comes rewards.

The bathroom, however, stays off-limits. You’ll do that business outside, naturally.

17. Perverse

If there is one thing he really likes, it’s to make others uncomfortable.

How they squirm scrutinized under his relaxed gaze, trying to adjust to whatever situation they’re thrown into abruptly (whether it’s orchestrated by him or not), Ayato likes them all the same. Noting mentally of what scares people, what makes them want to curl up in a fetal position, break.

If conceivable, can be applied to upcoming enemies.

Those who try to play cool are forcing out strained smiles; those who can’t help but panic; a game he’d gladly participate in, with delight.

Tonight, his fascination leaves you defenseless.

Arms behind your back, fastened by unkempt rope burning through fair skin; baby blue cloth secured around bright eyes, cutting off one of your senses; legs temporarily incapacitated, battered in vibrant, angry welts - courtesy of an eager whip.

All there is to do is anticipate, think of what Ayato has in store.

“S-Sca.. Scary.”

Your voice is hoarse, alien even to your own ears. Animals can’t speak, shouldn’t be able to anyways. His threat repeating itself continuously - slicing off your naughty tongue for good measure - and then you can’t actually say anything.

A golden rule has been broken…

... and he excuses it.

This doesn’t happen too often, your strict master forgiving mistakes.

But owners should be merciful sometimes, yeah?

Heizou Shikanoin, and the New Roommate.

─ It starts off with a tragic case. A couple going missing under no one’s radar, unfortunate that those were your loving parents. Finding out these sickening news when arriving back from a trip with close family friends, a group of intimidating men surrounding an empty run-down looking shack, your home - and a hospitable man bearing an attractive face. He greets the bewildered you coolly, like he was expecting your arrival any minute now. As for first impressions, Heizou makes quite the reputable one, making you feel somewhat at ease despite having been struck by desolation. No need to dwell any longer, the Tenryou Commission’s Detective has taken responsibility over this devastating incident. Heizou is, promising to bring a favorable conclusion... to the best of their abilities.

You cannot thank him enough.

─ With the distasteful section out of the way, the conversation falls into discussing the aftermath: if their child wants to remain in the house, for now. Thoughts of staying there, alone... feels haunting. Your troubled expression does not go amiss as Heizou proposes an idea: room with him. No one else resides in that keepsake lodge near their headquarters, merely a bored adult in dire need of some company. In short, there’s reasonable space for a new roommate, and accepting means becoming someone else’s burden, someone’s liability - which is alright. Anyone a part of their community deserves assistance, especially in these trying times. Stay. Remain there until they have been found, alive or not.

─ For this particular investigation, bizarrely, Heizou shares a few troubles. He’ll admit it during a hearty dinner, slightly sullying a light atmosphere - in good faith. You’re bummed, not disheartened. Everyone else had resigned themselves from an evidently impossible case, a sound decision for a lack of direction, suspects, and information leads to nowhere. If their boss has a hard time solving it himself then, what are the chances of them being able to give insight? To make up for this, he’ll make sure his guest (although it’s safe to say, an indefinite one) remains comfortable, providing superb hospitality. And yes, you do have freedom to leave the premise, whenever, wherever. Nothing physical will prevent you. But, isn’t that too dangerous? A culprit still runs loose, threatening a rather lovely city. Their next victim could very possibly be you.

Hence, staying inside is in best interest. Heizou knows best, knows what your parents would like in their absence.

And he knows where they remain, not that he’ll ever disclose.

18. Winner

“A-Are you sure this… Do people really play this game?” Uncertainty is laced in your voice.

“Of course, do you remember how it goes?”

“ .. Stay quiet.”

“Yes, and if you make any noise,” hot breath fans over your sensitive slit, “I’ll have to punish you.”

You’d bite your bottom lip in anticipation, a whimper away from losing a battle you’ve never had a chance in. The game hasn’t even started yet and you’re squirming. He’d have to pry your shaky legs to stay open, locking them in place.

You tremble even more.

“It’ll be fun.” For him, he says, burying his eager tongue inside your sensitive cunt. Continuously overstimulating and edging you into tears without rupture, wanting to see you lose all reason and beg for something much, much larger.

Submitting to pleasure, to Heizou.

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #ch.kazuha #ch.thoma #ch.gorou #ch.itto #ch.ayato #ch.heizou #tw.nsfw #tw.dubcon #tw.master/pet dynamics #tw.predator/prey dynamics #tw.breeding #sub!reader #timt! series #lord.hcs

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cryptixani · 2 years

Note

Ok,so. Can i request Headcanons for Shinso, shoto, Katsuki, eijiro and shota aizawa (and any other boy you maybe want)with a reader who is extremly insecure about her thighs?

Reader pls fem! and she has big thighs <3

Love your bloggs ><

absolutely!! i hope i did this request justice, i've never really written anything like this. also never forget that you are nothing less than divine perfection deserving to be worshipped and loved <3

characters: bakugo, todoroki, kirishima, shinsou, aizawa

warnings: mildly suggestive

Bakugo

i think katsuki would be the most confused when he found out you were insecure about your big thighs

in general, i always headcanon that he's more body neutral than anything, and so doesn't see the need to pick at his own appearance and doesn't really understand why others do it

he may brush you off at first, he can be a bit emotionally stupid at times, but once he realizes this is a real insecurity of yours he'd soften up in his own way

"why, idiot? you're fine the way you are. your thighs are thick and strong, that's a good thing." he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and in katsuki's language that's basically code for "your thighs and all the rest of you is beautiful, think of them in a positive way and not in a negative one"

and while he's not the best with his words, he'd be mindful with his actions, and show you how much he loves your thighs in that way

he'll keep a hand on your thigh if you guys are sat next to each other, occasionally giving them an affectionate squeeze. if he sees you in shorts or leggings or anything else that shows them off, he'd mutter out a little "that looks good on you" just for your ears to hear

Todoroki

i think shoto would also be a bit confused

however, unlike katsuki, he understands the feeling of insecurity you feel, he's felt it too about himself

and the fact that you're feeling it makes him sad, because he sees you as the most beautiful being to ever bless this earth

he'd frown, and his hand would almost instinctively travel down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze and running his hand up and down it

"...but why?" he says quietly, tilting his head, "they're so pretty. i love especially when you wear shorts and sit down, and they spill out of the shorts." and he's telling you this in full earnest, kissing over the dark blush on your cheeks

"i think they're perfect." he murmurs against your skin. "i think you're perfect. i wish you'd see that." and he pulls back a bit with a soft sigh, giving your thigh another light squeeze

from then on, just like katsuki, if he sees you wear anything that reveals or accentuates your thighs, he'll compliment them specifically

"your thighs make that dress look gorgeous, my love"

"mm, those leggings are nice. i love how well your thighs fill them out."

Kirishima

absolutely not, not on his watch

eijirou cannot have you feeling like anything less than a deity, if you don't realize that he worships you, your body, and the ground you walk on then he has failed his job as a boyfriend, and he cannot have that

will pout like a child, and without hesitation he grabs your legs and anchors them up and apart so that he can settle himself between your thighs, nuzzling and kissing them

"but baby, your thighs are like, the best part of you! and so is your face! and your boobs! and your tummy! and-"

he can and will go on forever if you do not stop him

from then on, he makes it a point to always nuzzle and kiss at your thighs whenever he can

anytime you guys are alone together, you can bet he will find a way and he won't stop until you're a squirming, blushing mess, and then he'd kiss his way back up your body and insist you say how perfect your thighs are out loud

"say it, c'mon baby"

"eiji, i-"

"nuh uh, don't 'eiji' me, say it!"

"..."

"babeeeeeee-"

"fine, fine! i-... i have perfect thighs"

"damn right you do" and he looks so goddamn smug

Shinsou

hitoshi will not even let you finish speaking before his head is between your thighs. he's the biggest thigh man so he thinks it's basically illegal if he lets you think bad about your thighs for a moment longer

"these?" he asks, brows raised as he wraps his large hands around each thigh, giving them a little squeeze, "these are perfection incarnate. they're soft, and warm, and perfect for taking naps on, and you know when you wear one of my hoodies and those thigh high socks and nothing else? i could die a happy man."

you look down at him, settled between your thighs and looking like a starved man presented with the finest food, and your face feels hotter by the second

"but i-"

"nope. perfection." he cuts you off, laying his tired head against your thigh and shutting his eyes blissfully. there's a moment of quiet before a smirk curls hitoshi's lip.

"you wanna know why else i love your thighs?" he asks

"...w-why?"

"cause they're perfect for covering in hickeys."

you nearly choke, looking down at your very smug looking boyfriend, who's opened his eyes just barely enough to see your cute reaction

Aizawa

shouta honestly didn't really know what to say at first when you admitted to being insecure about your thighs

it might have come off a little cold at first, but honestly he was really just surprised that you would feel bad about such a beautiful part of yourself, and carefully thinking over what to say to you that would truly convey just how much he loved all of your body, including your thighs

he ends up abandoning the homework he had been grading to move over to you, his brows furrowed

"you are beautiful. every part of you is beautiful, inside and out. i'm in love with all of you, i think every single part of your body is gorgeous. i could talk the night away telling you each of my favourite parts of you down to the freckle. you shouldn't feel bad about any part of your body, you shouldn't compare your body to the bodies of others, there's no need to worry yourself over such trivial things. your thighs are beautiful, darling, just like any other part of you, because they are a part of you."

before you can reply, he hushes you and presses a few soft kisses over your face, before murmuring by your ear,

"i just want you to see yourself the way i see you."

#mha #bnha #bnha headcanons #mha hcs #mha headcanons #aizawa shota x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha hcs #kirishima x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader

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ksyongi · 2 years

Text

Jealousy-Lee Chan

an:this is for @dinosbestie !!! I think you might have set your settings so that I cannot find your tag D: I accidently lost the ask as well hehe,, anyways here is the fic you requested for!! I'll be following the storyline from the hcs!!

note:please do not copy my works, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

-lee chan x female reader- 1.3k words

warnings:suggestive, smut? just chan giving a desc of what hes going to do to the reader, fluff and some cursing!!

reaction to you dodging their kisses hc i was talking abt!

m.list

it was one of your free days, therefore you decided to go with chan to his practice. he picked you up and placed one hand on your thigh as he drove. after he parked his car, you faced him to see him approach you and kiss you. chan was always an affectionate person with you so you were used to it. you tried to end the kiss but you couldn't, his hands holding you, locking you into place. you had to use two hands to part. chan was so addicted till the point he leaned back into the kiss and you placed your hand on his lips. shaking your head you said "you don't want to be late to practice right channie?". he responded with a whine as he looked at his watch mummering a quick "5 more minutes" then pulling you back in. You surely didn't want to stop due to the pure bliss you were in.

you two were stopped with a click from outside the car and seeing that mingyu had taken a picture. you pushed off one another and mingyu had the audacity to giggle and point at chan giving the remark "oh dang i'm sooo going to send this to the group chat" sending a wink your way, mingyu made a run for it as your boyfriend made a grunt of frustration at how flirty his friend was and also because of the current blackmail mingyu and the other members would have. chan rushed out of the car trying to catch mingyu. shaking your head, you went to lock the car and witness mingyu using his height as an advantage and raising his phone as chan tries to jump and fail miserably. mingyu sees you and exclaims "y/n please hold your boyfriend back, next time we go out I'll treat you~" you could never say no to free things so you happily went to hold your boyfriend back and mingyu ran up the flight of stairs going "teehee y/nnie likes me more than you chan~" rolling you eyes you looked back at chan to see him pouting. You give the remark "you should stop stressing so much you know, mingyu gets pranked more and he had it worse, don't you remember the left and right dance prank?" chan smiles hearing that, getting a boost of confidence. he grabs your hand and brings you to the practice room.

as you two walk into the practice room, you get the stares from everyone. vernon breaks the silence, snorting then murmuring a "sorry" before silently laughing to himself. then all of a sudden, they grab chan and start laughing and commenting how hes such a simp for you, mocking him like in the image. you laugh and turn to face jun who was just smirking at you. you smack his arm, and he gives you a dramatic offended look and you two break out into laughter. minghao joins you two and suggests that you should do a prank on him. suggesting that you should accept 0 sorts of affection from chan. you nod, thinking about what he said before agreeing to do it. after the others stopped picking on chan, he went to the restroom before practice begun.

since you wanted to torture your beloved boyfriend, you decided to add on to the prank, being affectionate with the members too. telling the others before practice about it while chan was in the restroom, most chuckled as they approved with your plan. you told them not to mind the affection you'd give them and just play along. they love pranking their maknae so they'll definitely do it. as wonwoo hinted to the others that chan is coming back, you quickly told everyone to laugh as if you just told a really funny joke. chan walked back into the room and asked what was happening but the members brushed it off as they wanted to proceed with practice. during the water breaks, chan walked to you, going to peck your cheek as you used one finger to push him away saying "yah you are so sweaty, i dont want your sweat over me now" pouting as you could see vernon and jun snickering at your comment.

chan walked off to go and bother Jeonghan as you decided to go and be affectionate with your first target, seungcheol. You sat really close to him as he placed his arm around you feeling chan's stare on you, you ignored him, talking to seungcheol about music and getting comfortable in his embrace. soonyoung saw chan walking towards you and decided to help you out, and call for practice to start again. you could see chan stare behind but you ignored it, smiling at the other members. When they went on another break, chan approached you asking about the earlier events and you shrugged saying it's nothing. he tried to negotiate with you saying, "can i at least give you a peck? i promise you won't get sweaty" you shook your head refusing, acting disgusted when he hugged you. he sulked and went to run through the dance moves again. he thought to himself why you weren't looking at him and admiring his dancing.

you decided to tick him off by being affectionate with the one person chan would definitely get annoyed at, seungkwan. you went to the corner where he was talking to dk, winking to them and softly saying to remind you when chan is looking. they both agreed as you tried to gain chan's attention. dk looking behind you then hinted to you that chan was now looking. one hand pushing seungkwan's hair away from his eyes then the other grabbing hold of his hand saying a "sudden but play along please" then laughing as if he told a funny joke. honestly you were very thankful to the other members to play along, even those who aren’t affectionate like jihoon let you back hug him.

at this point, chan was glaring daggers at you and he stormed over, taking a hold of your hand and dragging you out of the practice room hearing some "ooohs" and some laughter when you got dragged out, to one of the empty rooms. he said "why the fuck are you so affectionate with my members but not me? even holding hands with seungkwan? come on, you didn't even let me kiss you, let alone hug you. what the fuck are you doing y/n? he was furious at this point so you confessed. he replies with "you think that was fucking funny? i think the fuck not. i'll ruin you and show you how jealous you made me feel, don't expect to be able to walk for the next few weeks." he walked out and left you stunned, wet and needy for him.

you had to compose yourself before going back into the practice room mouthing the words “i’ll tell you guys later” chan was more strict and he was dancing more aggressively, till the point hoshi had to go “woah woah woah, chill chan, don’t use all your energy at once.” chan sighed and calmed down, or so you thought... at the end of the practice, you went up to him, holding his things and you two made your way down. chan was silent the whole car ride. “chan? are you okay? talk to me, this tense atmosphere is killing me right now” he scoffed and responded “you already know that you made me jealous, what else am i supposed to tell you? that i’m going to deny all your orgasms tonight? i’m going to tie you up and make sure you get punished properly?” you sealed your mouth, the familiar throb going to your pussy. he threw you over his shoulder and brought you to the bedroom. placing you on the bed and saying “strip, and i expect you to be a good girl tonight, unless you really want it from me.”

an:AAAAAAAAAAAA currently thanking @dinosbestie because I really enjoyed writing this<33

#seventeen fluff #seventeen #lee chan x reader #chan fluff #lee chan #lee chan fluff #lee chan will be the death of me #chan x reader #seventeen x reader #dino svt #svt dino #seventeen dino #dino x reader #dino x you #lee chan x you #chan x you

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cynettic · 3 years

Note

hi, i hope i'm not bothering you, but i can order a Scaramouche × Kitsune reader, the two met before the vision hunt (and before he was a fatui if you want) the reader was always in the same place, sometimes having a conversation , the good old routine, but with the hunting of visions the reader disappeared not wanting to give up his own vision, and years later a reunion, SFW or NSFW is by your will, thank you, I really admire your work

Summary - Scaramouche met you as a child, growing up with the constant assurance that you would be right there, sitting at your spot where he could meet you with every visit. He isn't happy when you suddenly disappear.

Pairing - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warning - Slight Yandere warnings?

Penpal - Ahhh- hope this is what you were looking for. I couldn't find a spot to put much nsfw unless I considered writing more for the series ( I could, just put a request in if thats what you’re looking for ). But I hope you liked it!! You're not bothering me at all and I'm glad you like my work!

A/N - Alright- so considering that with the 2.1 update with Scaramouche coming in, I just wanna state beforehand that I wrote this prior so I dont know if we learn about his backstory or anything!!

Link for Part 2

Stay With Me

Scaramouche was used to the routine he’d found himself going along with every visit to Inazuma. As a child he’d pass through the wild fields that stretched just beside his hometown, adventurous and curious with all the tenacity of a child.

And of course you, a kitsune that sat perched on the ground awaiting the Kitsune Saiguu, was bound to notice him. Unlike the other earth kitsune statues, you hadnt turned to stone during your wait. Instead, staying in the same place did you interact with travellers and the locals, which included Scaramouche.

“Fox person!” The little boy chanted, pulling at the hems of your clothing. Bright blue eyes bore into your own, and you slowly shifted your head to pay attention to the boy who was on the verge of bouncing on you.

Humming in reply to his excitement, the little boy paused, both of his small hands still tightly clasping the fabric of your clothes. Soft matted hair brushed past his face in a messy manner, calling out the boy for his boundless running and rebellious urge to keep his hair messy despite his parents wishes.

“Play with me!”

Staring at the boy only a moment longer, you simply chuckled at his antics. “I’m afraid I cannot move from the spot in which I dwell~ Perhaps I’ll be able to entertain you if you bring cards?”

But the young boy had made up his mind at the statement to which you couldn't move. A pitiful frown enfluged his face as he cast you the nastiest glare a five year old could muster. “Boring!” He shouted into the distance of the fields, dramatically turning on his heels and bouncing up into a sprint away. You watched his small figure fade away into the background, absentmindedly sighing and returning to your mindless thoughts.

As a child, Scaramouche would pass by you fairly often. Frequent when he asked you to play with him, and storming away with the same expression when you denied him. Nothing out of the ordinary, you’d lived for an exceptional amount of time, and even though grumpy children were not your specialty, you’d grown accustomed to their behaviour.

Growing up, Scaramouche got no better. You soon noticed his violent tendencies before they became an issue, the way the children shied away from him when playing Temari. Hiding in front of a tough exterior, he scared them away and laughed, approaching you later with tearful sob.

“Will you play with me?” He asked again, trying to hide the fact that he still wept when the other children pushed him away.

But your answer stayed the same, helping him wipe his tears and coaxing him into your arms. Not the first time you’d made contact with a human, but the first time you held them in such an affectionate manner.

It was clear Scaramouche was beginning to see you as some sort of pillar of reassurance when he began running away from home to simply ask to be held. You always welcomed him with open arms, urging him to head back to his household and sort things out. There was no harm in simply providing love and comfort for a child who received none was there?

“Now now, hurry back home little one. Your parents must be growing awfully worried if you’re out by this time at night.”

“My parents dont care about me!”

Darkness slowly pooled into the fields, an obscure shade covering the two of you from the tree you were under. Biting back form your normal emotionless statements, you pondered for something to soothe and convince the boy. Misunderstandings and hardships were normal from what youd seen with children, and you could only offer your hand on his shoulder, a promise. “Go back, I promise to stay here if anything further happens. But you shold give them another chance dont you think?”

And so he’d sprint back to his hometown, and you wouldnt hear from him again till he ran up right up to you a few days later. Begging you to play a game with him. The normal you supposed, and with a grin that seemed to stretch wider with every day, you told him the same thing you told him every single time.

“You cant move?!” Scaramouche nearly yelled one time, tiny fists curling at his side. “Thats… thats stupid!”

“It is isnt it?” You only smiled in response.

Unsatisfied with your response, he clawed your arm, pulling you with all his might. Strong, you realized with surprise that he was much stronger than most children his age. Easy enough to tug away from, but strong enough to take you off guard.

Snapping your hand back to your side, you narrowed your eyes. You weren't angry… no, you hadnt felt strong feelings like that after the disappearance of the Kitsune Saiguu. “Do not attempt to move me,” was your curt response, said in the most stern voice you’d used with the boy.

He’d looked at you only a few seconds longer before bursting into tears, turning away and running. You didn't feel regretful for defending yourself, only turning once more with a tired sigh to stare at the distance.

But just as you stayed ageless, Scaramouche grew older. Still, crossing each others pass was inevitable when you sat in the plains, just alongside the path that lead to his hometown.

With a permanent scowl that seemed to stain his face, he still seemed to have mature a tad bit. Maybe hadnt improved in the social department, because he now scared children and adults and alike, but more mature…

“Hm? Whats this?”

Once again, sitting criss cross under the large tree that provided the perfect shade on sunny days, you stared at the boy expectantly. His hands hesitated at your question, but he resumed shuffling. “Cards,” he simply said in response.

A small featherlike feeling flitted across your chest, making you feel lighter and… almost ticklish. A small smile crossed your face, and you recognized the emotion to be one of adoration. For him to have remembered words you’d spoken years ago, it gave you a warmth you’d sorely missed. A warmth akin to watching him and the other children grow up.

“Ew, dont smile like that, its creepy.”

Swatting at his head, he frowned further when you laughed. “You’re more mature,” you pointed out, lazily leaning back. “You need to work on your people skills though, as someone who hasnt moved in years, thats pitiful that I know more than you.”

“Shut it!”

But as he grew up, you hardly got to see much of him. He’d reached your height and then fully disappeared, leaving no goodbye. And much as you hated to admit it, you hardly noticed, not when days passed in a flurry. You were used to being by yourself, entertaining the kids and greeting the people that passed by.

Sometimes, there’d be the reminder of the warmth he’d given you. But it was quickly overshadowed by your duty to remain seated in wait for the Kitsune Saiguu. A dedication kept in its earnest, but beginning to dwindle.

Inazuma was beginning to change.

“The vision decree…” you repeated, staring at the traveller who’d mentioned it to you. “Care to elaborate?”

The new archon threatenening to take away visions from every inhabitant of Inazuma. It was preposterous, so much that you didnt move. Your vision meant the world to you, but so did the Kitsune Saiguu. You werent sure just how you weighed the two till you saw civilians passing by you, ones you recognized, ones that didnt recognize themselves.

It was snowing, cold snowflakes melting into your skin while your hair soaked in the water. Unflinching, you hummed to a little tune, awaiting someone to pass you so that you could attempt to strike a conversation of somesort. The unnatural weather distanced all who entered the field though, and you simply waited. For the Kitsune Saiguu, for someone, or for some form of entertainment, you didnt know. You Slowly closing your eyes, you decided not to care.

“Im gone for five years and you’re still sitting here like a dumbass.”

Eyes snapping open, you find yourself face to face with a complete stranger. Dark purple hair with dark blue eyes, piercing and dangerous in a way you dont recognize at all. Fancy clothing that you cant identify or put a name on.

The boy took a step towards you, crouching down to stare at you directly. His eyes scanned over your figure briefly, and he brushed the snow out of your hair and ears with one flick of his hand. In the next, he was offering a coat to you. “Take it, you’re probably getting cold.”

You leaned forward, ignoring the coat he offered you. Gently, you raised your hand to brush the hair from his eyes, centred on the way his pupils widened. Offering a small moment of surprise and one glimpse into the small childlike blue eyed wonder he was. “Kiddo,” you breathed, pulling your hand back and scanning him once again. “You’ve grown.”

“And you havent.”

Snickering at his comment, you took the coat. You didnt need it, but he looked like he didnt either. He was already wearing clothing that kept him warm, and with careful observation and an untouched coat, you settled on the fact that he’d brought it here. Brought the coat here for you.

“Still havent improved with those social skills of yours have you?”

He scoffed, letting himself fall back till he was sitting fully. “I dont want to hear it from someone who refuses to move an inch for years. Lazy ass.”

You open your mouth to retort, but instead laugh at his comment, shaking your head. “Gained some humour on your journeys have you? Bad words too it seems. Anyways...” He had sat down, which meant that he meant fully well to sit, chat, and catch up. That familiar warmth filled your chest, a contrast between the cold snow. “Welcome back.”

It wasnt often that Scaramouche visited Inazuma, but when he did, he was sure to visit you. The two of you would sit down for hours, talking about the most trivial topics. He never mentioned what he did in his time away, and you never asked.

But things began to go downhill when news of the vision decree finally took action.

“Its no joke anymore! The Raiden Shogun has taken custody of almost a hundred visions!”

In that moment you made your decision, weighing your vision over the Kitsune Saiguu. Awfully selfish you knew, but you’d spent decades sitting there in wait.

And for the first time you sat up from your position on the ground, clumsily stumbling upright but gaining balance. It takes a few steps until you’re back to normal, and you begin your journey in order to escape the Raiden Shogun’s vision hunt decree.

_-_-_-_

You didnt expect to see him again.

Long grass tickled at the skin of your legs, making you adjust your footing to no avail. Sun slowly descending past the mountains to mark the start of an evening and the soon approaching night. A normal day of exploring the mountains and islands of Inazuma, observing the constant changing situation, and running away from the vision decree like a favourite past-time.

With the exception of a firm grip on your wrist.

Dark purple like hair, same hate brimmed eyes and lavish clothing. You recognized Scaramouche the moment he had appeared, looking just as surprised as you were. That being before he snatched your wrist and snarled, “You.”

You wouldve considered it pure luck to find him, an unexpected reunion with someone you actually remembered. But no, his tone had some predatorial edge to it that had you cringing. Hard. “Yes, its me.” You answered back with a frown, trying to loosen his hold. “Nice to see you too, is something the matter?”

He only seemed confused at your words, pulling you closer.

“Something the matter?” He asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, to start, you’re not sitting at your damn spot.”

Taken aback for a moment, you wondered if that sole fact was what drove the boy to such lengths. Surely he couldn't be so troubled over the fact that you moved… “The vision hunt decree, I'm sure I mentioned that I was sticking around in wait for the Kitsune Saiguu. I decided to wander around and avoid the conflict until I could settle back.”

“You could’ve waited for me,” he stated almost instantly. “I could have protected you.”

You felt your brows furrow quizzically. “Wait for you? Why in the world would I-”

“Why wouldn't I?” He pushed you closer till he could fully grab both wrists, taking a step closer as if his words would resonate clearer in your head. “You took care of me as a child, it would only be fair for me to repay the favour.” But he only seemed to be looking for excuses. “And besides, you can't just up and leave… I didn't know.”

Before you could interject with the obvious answer that he didn't need to know, you stopped. You’d lived decades, nearly centuries if you’d kept count, and you had learned to read people's expressions even when you’d stayed away from them for so long. He didn't know. It hit you in the most unpleasant way that he wasn't aware that it was none of his concern. To him, you were just another thing he needed to keep track of, something he had control over. His face basically screamed, ‘I depended on you to stay in that place.’

Deep breath in and out. You’d lived long, longer than him, you could deal with a child throwing a tantrum.

“Don't worry,” you gestured to the vision ta your side. “I'm strong enough to protect myself, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be back when the vision decree ends.”

Unconvinced, he pulled you closer, just until your faces were mere inches away from each other. “No,” he said in a stern voice. “I’d rather you by my side, where I can protect you. I hate to question what you’re capable of, but you’ve been sitting down for as long as I’ve known you for.”

“I’ve lived decades more than you,” a simple reply, hopefully enough to get by him. You snatched your hands back with ease, ears flinching slightly when a cold breeze swept past you. But you stayed firm, not wanting to look vulnerable against the imposing air he had around him.

Still unconvinced. “You’re coming with me.”

“No I’m not.”

You’d known him as a kid, watched him grow up along with all the other small ones in his hometown. And maybe you admit you cared a smudge bit about the warmth he gave you when settling down to play cards, but he was different. He had changed in the worst way and you weren't about to deal with it.

“So you’re not coming with me voluntarily?” He asked softly, taking a small step to which you responded by stepping back. He had his hands up, as if telling you he wouldn't hurt you. But the way he said voluntarily sent shivers up your spine.

“No.” Hand on your vision, you held your own hand up threateningly.

He took his time when tilting his head, taking a deep breath in, and then appearing in front of you in just a short stride. Too quick to react, you hesitated before you could attack him. You didn't want to hurt him, he was still a child in your eyes, and you paid the consequences for that. He slid his hand just along your neck, and a jolt of electricity seemed to thrum inside you just as you collapsed in his arms.

Scaramouche was quick to catch you, hoisting you up into his arms dearly. “I do hope you’ll come to understand,” he said softly, cradling your unconscious form in his arms. Making sure not to crush your tail when carrying your legs, he looked past the mountains, sigh resting on his lips.

Because Scaramouche liked to have control of the things he held dear. Like keeping all your valuables neat and tidy in a closet, he was happy knowing you were safe and stable in that spot you always sat on.

And he couldn't have you moving could he?

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin oneshot #genshin fanfic #genshin scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #cynshealthysfw #genshin fluff

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sappynapper · 3 years

Note

could I ask for romantic headcannons of the feral boys (separately) with their s/o giving them lots of kisses and telling them how pretty they are?

not sure if you mean reader telling them they’re pretty or them telling reader so i’m doing both!! bc yessss! they are all so pretty! i hope they know 😌

(buuut i haven’t included quackity bc i couldn’t think of ideas for him sorrryyyy)

ccs included: dream, sapnap, george, karl

being affectionate with them hcs

Dream:

dream loves praise. we know this

ultimate dog boy dream scenario: he’s like a puppy being told he’s a good boy when you compliment him

gets very eager and attentive

he’ll give you the biggest heart eyes as you run your fingers through his hair, gushing about how cute his freckles are, how pretty the colour of his eyes is, how much you like the sound of his voice

he’ll pull you into his lap sometimes, as if to keep you there and make sure you keep going, just enjoying the attention from you

nothing makes him happier than getting compliments from you bc you’re his favourite person so it means more to him to get your approval

it’s also the only thing that never fails to cheer him up

on days when nothings going to plan and he just feels like he can’t do anything right, he’ll crawl into your arms and ask for some love

you can feel his shoulders relax and his smile against your collar bone as you press kisses into his hair and tell him how wonderful you think he is

and bc it’s so important to him, he’s very proactive about giving you the same kind of attention

well, sometimes he’ll get distracted by work and spend hours at a time holed up in his office

but when he IS with you he’s all over you

he’s sort of intense about it actually

he’ll rub his hands up and down your sides as he leans in close to your ear to tell you how gorgeous you are in a low voice

it’s like he’s really trying to convince you of what he’s saying

and when you’re cuddled up together in bed or on the sofa watching tv he cannot keep his lips off your skin

constant kisses on your cheek, on your nose, on the shell of your ear

anywhere he can reach bc he loves every inch of you and needs you to know 😌

Sapnap:

doesn’t always know how to respond when you lather on the praise but absolutely adores affection from you in all forms

lots of blushing and playful “stoopppp”s when you tell him how handsome he is

(he definitely doesn’t actually want you to stop)

loves loves loves when you cover his face in kisses. also when you hold his hand and do the lil thumb thing? like he’s actually in heaven

can’t get over how soft your lips and hands are??

he’s pretty sure you’re an angel

thing is he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with himself so he usually just gives you affection back but more lol

go big or go home right?

if you give him a lil kiss he’ll grab you round the waist and squeeze you so tight that your feet leave the floor, all while smothering your face in kisses

you have to tell him to put you down between giggles or he’ll just keep going 😌

when he compliments you it’s usually loud, and very enthusiastic

lots of “DAMN BABY YOU LOOK SO GOOD TODAY” and you’re just like “..🧍‍♂️thank you”

he jokes around with that kind of thing bc he gets a little shy about serious romance stuff

but sometimes, just to make sure you know he’s for real, he’ll tell you how much you mean to him very quietly and firmly, although usually looking down at your intertwined hands while he says it

and when you really need it he will hold you to his chest so securely you swear you’ve never felt so safe and loved in your life

George:

mans is not outwardly very physically affectionate

when you snuggle into him and press a few kisses along his jaw he'll usually just smile and carry on with editing or whatever he's working on

and if you compliment him (which you do a lot ofc, pretty privilege and all that) mostly he'll just brush you off with a laugh or makes a joke

you'd never know how much he actually appreciates the affection you give him, and how much he thinks about those soft moments when you're away from each other

for him it's more about the reassurance that you love him, that you want to spend time with him, that he makes you happy. it's kinda like you're telling him he's doing a good job at being your boyfriend lol

he's generally pretty reserved about being affectionate towards you but there are certain times when his guard lowers enough that a little of that suppressed tenderness slips out

when he's really tired he always reaches for you, pulling you into his chest and holding you close like you're his personal teddy bear

he blames the fog of tiredness in his brain for the gentle, open-mouthed kisses he trails across your shoulders and the whispered confessions of his adoration of you

and there's something about the simple, domestic sight of you when you're fresh out of the shower and you've slipped on one of his shirts to sleep in at the end of a long day

he can never take his eyes off you in those moments

the quiet mutter of "you look really pretty" might seem like a throw away comment from someone else, but you know George is always sincere in these things and it never fails to warm you through to hear him say it

Karl:

karl was made for this request oml

physical affection is this man’s bread and butter

every moment he is not either giving or receiving kisses from you is a moment wasted and cuddling is simply his preferred state of being

he just feels so relaxed and content when you’re tangled up together under a blanket in front of the tv

it’s the best part of his day

in fact he barely even thinks about it when you take his hand or peck his cheek etc, it’s just natural

it’s when you’re not touching him that he notices

he gets all pouty and forlorn when you’re not around or you’re denying him kisses for whatever reason

if possible he will simply take matters into his own hands when he feels like he isn’t getting enough cuddles from you (which is all times when you are not currently cuddling him)

he WILL wrap his arms around you at any and every opportunity (threat)

you thought you were busy doing something? sike! you are actually in his arms

the compliments are also pretty much constant

you get told you look pretty every day at least three times

he always notices new clothes or when you try something different with your hair or make up and hypes you up so much

you complimenting him is another story though

he goes so red when you say sweet things to him and hides his face in his hands

baby boy can’t handle it but it’s just the cutest thing to witness so definitely don’t stop

#mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound x reader #karl jacobs x reader #dream x reader #request

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Quick Rinse

Coco Cruz x F!Reader

Request from Anon: Can I possibly pretty pretty please 🍒 😁 request a lovely smutty with Coco where the reader is fresh out of the shower cause it’s hot as balls out and she is laying on their bed butt ass naked and he comes home and sees her, and asks if she was waiting for him as he is kissing up her legs and she meantions that it was too hot and didn’t want to shower again as he is running his nose along her left butt cheek (they both just discovered that it’s one of her new turn spots it was just her ears before) and he says well we can shower again cause seeing you naked (bites said butt cheek) is doing things to him.

Warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of bodily fluids, spanking, language

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I had to brush the cobwebs out of my brain for this one because I cannot remember the last time that I wrote smut lmao. I didn’t explicitly mention a couple of the background details just for the sake of jumping right into the story. Hope you enjoy!

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You were sprawled out on you bed, laying on your stomach. You were scrolling idly on your phone, not thinking too much of the fact that you hadn’t redressed after your shower. Summers in Santo Padre were always brutal, and today was no exception. Truthfully, you felt like the shower hadn’t done too much good and you felt like you were going to be taking another one before the day was out.

The distant rumble of Coco’s bike could be heard from your bedroom. You didn’t bother getting up, knowing that his first stop once he got inside and took his boots off was going to be the bedroom. At this point you could’ve counted it off on a timer, he was so calculated with his daily routines. You heard the clunking of him taking his boots off, and you knew that next he would shrug off his kutte and drape it over the nearest piece of furniture, he’d pause and think about possibly grabbing himself a drink from the fridge, only to decide that it could wait and he would come and say hello to you first.

Hardly a couple minutes went by before you heard the creaking of the floorboards outside the bedroom. There was the creaking of the door opening and not even a second later, a low whistle filled the air.

“Damn,” Coco walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand up the back of your calf, “I woulda left the clubhouse sooner if I knew I was comin’ home to this.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you continued to scroll on your phone, “My ass looks the same now as it did an hour ago, Coco. You didn’t miss anything.”

He shifted so he was straddling you, still just below your knees, “You mean you weren’t just laying here waiting for me like this?”

His hands continued to roam up your calves and thighs, and it was only a matter of moments before you felt his lips pressing light, affectionate kisses against your skin. the way his lips brushed so lightly over your skin made you squirm slightly as you giggled. Each of his hands were lightly gripping the backs of your thighs, thumbs tracing back and forth. You hummed in approval, glancing back over your shoulder at him.

“Came home just to give me a massage?”

“Nah, but,” his lips trailed kisses up your thighs, “I got some other ideas for things we could do.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, “Coco I just showered and I don’t wanna take another one already. It’s too hot for this shit.”

“You’re too hot to just be layin’ here like this and expecting me not to do something about it,” he pressed a soft kiss to your butt cheek and you hated that that was all it took to get the gears turning in your mind.

“Coco…” it was a hint of a warning.

“C’mon, querida, we can always just take another shower afterwards. ‘Cause this is already driving me crazy,” he nipped at the skin he’d just kissed, eliciting a yelp from you, not having expected it. His grip on your legs tightened as he kissed your ass again, and you could already feel your body giving into him as he continued to speak, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

The low rasp in his voice did you in. Your muscles all relaxed as you responded, “You always do.”

You could feel the way that his lips curled into a smile against you, and you couldn’t help but to smile as well. He pressed one more hard kiss to your cheek before backing up off the bed. He was off the mattress just long enough to discard the rest of his clothes, and you found yourself biting down on your bottom lip as you watched him strip, seeing that he was already getting hard. Then he was back on the bed, kneeling behind you as he positioned your legs to his liking. You watched him over your shoulder as his eyes raked over your body. His tongue ran along his bottom lip, letting you know that he was thinking about each and every move he was about to make.

His hands gripped you by the hips and lifted you up, and you could feel your body shivering with anticipation. Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched as his one hand ran along the curve of your ass as he brought the other up to his mouth. He spit into the palm of his hand before running it along his length, the grip of his other hand tightening on your ass as he did. A whine slipped past your lips as you watched him stroke himself, and his mouth instantly curled into a smirk at the sound.

He lined himself up at your entrance, “You know I always got you,” he pulled you back by your hips, easily sliding himself into you, “Right?”

A low shuddering moan came from you, filling the room. You could hear Coco cursing under his breath as he began to thrust into you. You immediately tightened around him, having missed the feeling of him inside you. Your fingers gripped the bedsheets, jaw going slack as his pace increased. Your brain was about to completely blank out in ecstasy when you felt his hand come down hard on your ass.

“Fuck,” you gasped out as the stinging sensation went through you.

“You like that shit?” you weren’t looking at him but you could tell from the tone of his voice that he had a smug grin on his face as he continued fucking you.

The word, “Yes,” slipped past your lips but it was hardly audible. Speaking was the farthest thing from your mind at the moment.

Usually Coco liked to take advantage of you when you were like that, tried to drag more words out of you just because he liked to hear you struggle to string them together. There was something powerful about knowing that he could do that to you. But this time, he didn’t. He rubbed his hand over the place that he’d just struck, causing you to push back into his touch.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body beginning to tense up around him. You knew he could feel it, too, because his grip on your hips began to tighten, slamming into you with more and more force. Not that you cared, but you were fairly certain that your nails were about to tear through the thin fabric of your bedsheets.

Pushing back so that his body connected with yours as deeply as it could, you came around him. Despite the fact that the only thing on your mind was how amazing it felt to having him still pounding into you, you heard the breath that he sucked in when he felt you tighten around him as you came. There would definitely be bruises where his fingers were with the way that he held you so tightly as he chased his own high.

You were content to let him use you, the overstimulation of him continuing to fuck you through your orgasm leaving you unable to do much else. You felt the calloused pads of his fingers as he ran his hand up your back. His fingers curled around your shoulder as his pace grew sloppy, the noises he was making more guttural. It was only a matter of a few more moments before you felt him pull out of you completely, the sudden emptiness catching you off-guard. The low moan he let out as he finished on your back was music to your ears.

He collapsed on the bed next to you, trying to catch his breath, “Fuck,” he let out a raspy laugh.

You chuckled, your mind still reeling, “Yea.”

“You good?” he raised his eyebrows as he asked.

Watching the way his chest rose and fell rapidly, you nodded, “I’m good.”

He leaned in, kissing you lightly on the lips, “I love you.”

You hummed in approval, “I love you too. But,” you saw the shift in his expression at your caveat and you tried not to laugh, “now I really need to take a fucking shower.”

He chuckled, “Can I come with you?”

“No point in saying no to you now, right?” you laughed as you carefully made your way to the edge of the bed, “But you’re in charge of scrubbing my back.”

He laughed, “Fine.”

“Hey,” you grabbed the towels off your bedroom door, “You make the mess, you gotta clean it up.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco x reader #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz fanfic #coco cruz imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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cloudteawrites · 3 years

Text

chapter: six ( 15.5k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

what is hybrid marking

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While scent mixing (heretofore referred to as ‘scenting’) is temporary and lasts a maximum of twelve hours if left undisturbed, scent marking (‘marking’ in common parlance) is semi-permanent. A ‘mark’ is created when the pheromones present in a hybrid’s bodily fluids are applied directly to their markee’s skin. When said chemical compounds seep below the epidermis and bond to the sweat glands found within the dermal layer of the skin, the target has been officially ‘marked’. Between domesticated hybrids and their human caretakers, this is most commonly done by applying hybrid saliva to the skin of the neck, where a human’s scent tends to be strongest. While the behavior involved in marking resembles some aspects of human foreplay, it is a non-sexual expression of mutual trust and affection. It is important to note that most hybrids of age are able to mitigate the oral secretion of pheromones and cannot mark accidentally-

“How do I look?”

The sound of Jimin’s voice makes you jump. You fumble with your phone, trying to exit out of the website, shove it in your pocket and look at the leopard hybrid’s outfit at the same time.

“You look great!” You tell him once the device is safely tucked away.

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’ve said that about everything I’ve shown you.”

You had, but only because it was true. No matter what the trio of hybrids tried on, they all looked great. You weren’t sure what it was, but seeing them in something other than neutral sweat suits made them look even better than they already had. You were discovering they all had unique senses of fashion too. Taehyung preferred earth tones, soft fabrics and slouchy cardigans, Yoongi tended toward plaid overshirts and dark denim and Jimin had just come out of the dressing room in his sixth button down and second pair of chelsea boots.

When the four of you had arrived at the mall that afternoon, you’d told them to go wild and call you when they were ready to check out. There was an entire section of the shopping center that catered specifically to hybrids and you were certain they’d be able to find everything they needed and more. You’d been all set to sequester yourself in a booth in the food court and indulge your hybrid research habit, but Taehyung had fixed you with a forlorn look the moment you tried to part with them and Jimin had insisted that you personally review every piece of clothing he put on. You wouldn’t deny that you were having fun, but surreptitiously trying to google what every little thing they did meant without getting caught was getting harder and harder.

Jimin breezes past you to the semi-circle of mirrors on the far end of the fitting rooms, brushing his tail against your shins as he passes. That was another thing that had changed. Since the talk you’d had with the boys last night, it seemed like they were always finding some excuse to touch you or brush up against you . You didn’t know if it was a manifestation of their cat genes or them just wanting physical reassurance that you were there, but it seemed like every time you turned around there was a tail curling around your calf or a nose tip against your ear or a shoulder brushing your own. You were practically wreathed in them. Even Yoongi hadn’t seemed to mind when your fingertips had brushed against each other at breakfast when you’d passed him the juice. You didn’t know if you should count that as progress, but you want to.

You’re not entirely used to physical contact and nearly every time Taehyung rubs his cheek on the top of your head or Jimin reaches out to link your fingers together, you jump. It feels strange, to have people be so blatantly physically affectionate with you. It’s not like you dislike it, exactly, it’ll just take some getting used to. Whatever adjustments you need to make, you know you’ll need to make them quickly. You don’t think the hybrids will give up on friendly hugs just because you never initiate them first.

“Y/N-ah,”Jimin calls, catching your attention. He’s twisting this way and that on the platform, trying to catch his reflection in every possible angle. He hums in disappointment as he turns back to the front, tail waving behind him. “This collar,” he says, tugging on the offending band of bright green plastic around his neck, “-is ruining my outfit. We’ll need to get real ones today.”

You feel like a stone has settled in your stomach. Your shoulders sag, but if the leopard hybrid notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, you’re right.” In truth, you’d hoped to put it off for a little while longer. Collaring and leashing a hybrid had always seemed odd to you. After all, weren’t they people too? The law was the law, you knew, but something about publicly and visibly marking someone as property...well, the morality of it was gray at best. The temporary collars had provided you with a stay from the inevitable, but there was no avoiding it any longer, you supposed. They’d have to get collars.

“I saw a store for them a couple shops down,” Taehyung supplies as he steps out of his dressing room in a white linen shirt and cream drawstring pants. “We could go there?”

“That works for me...Taehyung, one of your buttons is in the wrong hole.”

The tiger hybrid squints down at his shirt, feels blindly for the hole he missed, but can’t seem to find it.

“No,” you tell him. “Not that one, the other- do you just want me to fix it?”

He pauses and looks up at you for a solid three seconds before giving a single, slow nod.

You come to stand in front of him and start undoing the buttons from the top. There’s only four of them but each one you pop open reveals more and more of his honey brown skin and prominent collar bones. Your fingers brush his skin accidentally and he chuffs happily, one hand resting on your lower back as you start buttoning him up again. Heat starts crawling up your neck unbidden. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel the warmth of his palm, how long his fingers are. He presses you closer until your arms are nearly flat against your chest as you try to finish buttoning him up. It’s hard to move squished between the insistent pressure of his hand and the- surprisingly- hard line of his body, but you make do. “There!” You pat him gently on the chest as you finish the last button. “All done.”

He dips forward and rubs his cheek against your forehead, rumbling so deep in his chest that the vibrations pass into you. “Thank you.” He releases you and pulls away, but as he does, his lips brush against your hairline. You try not to read too deep into it.

The tiger hybrid sidles over to his friend in the mirror, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist and dipping his head into his neck. Jimin reaches back and scratches behind one of his ears and your heart swells in your chest. It was nice to see them be so openly affectionate with each other. They’re so close in a way you can’t even begin to understand. It’s beautiful.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you thumb the screen to life. An incoming call from Mr. Seo. “You guys keep trying stuff on,” you tell the pair, already standing to make your way out of the dressing room. “I’ve gotta take this.” They both call at you to hurry back and you give them a shout of assent as you rush away.

The second you’re outside the store, you answer. “Hello?”

“Ms. L/N,” Mr. Seo’s voice crackles on the other end of the line. “I trust you’ve settled in well.” It isn’t a question and the tone of his voice makes it clear that he doesn’t wish to spend what precious time he has exchanging pleasantries with you.

“Yeah, everything’s okay.” Everything had most certainly not been okay when you’d emergency dialed him two days ago about the tiger on your couch. The text he’d sent you back six hours later had told you to figure it out. You had and you knew you weren’t his responsibility, but him tossing you in the deep end was still a sore spot for you.

“There’s been a change of plans.”

You grimace. Straight to it, then. “What’s going on?”

“Black Mountain Canines- the company your uncle purchased two of the hybrids from- changed their pick-up date. They want you to come get them in person today.”

“Pick-up?” You frown. “No, they were supposed to drop them off.”

“They were,” Mr. Seo confirms, “But it’s apparently no longer profitable for them to drive all the way into Seoul to hand-deliver two of their charges. They also claim they’re incurring additional expenses by feeding and housing two hybrids who’ve already been purchased, but we’ll see about that when we arrive.”

Your anxiety spikes and your fingers wrap tighter around your phone. You’d promised the boys a whole day out. All you’d done so far was get them phones of their own and furniture for their room. There was still so much to do, so much to see. “What about Yoongi and Jimin and Taehyung?” You blurt out.

Mr. Seo sighs and his breath crackles over the receiver. “Those are the cats, I assume? I suggest you let them know sooner rather than later that they’ll have to share their space.” There’s a flurry of movement on his end of the line, the sound of someone calling his name and papers shuffling. “I have to go; they need me to look over some case files.” He tells you. “I’ll be at Haneul Tower to pick you up in three hours. Be downstairs waiting.”And the line clicks off.

You sigh and hang up. What were you going to tell the boys? Day one of your new friendship and you were already breaking promises.

“Trouble?” Yoongi’s voice right behind you makes you flinch and whirl on him. His ears press back against his head and he takes a step back at your sudden movements.

“Sorry!” You tell him, forcing your spine to relax. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there; I thought you were still shopping. ”

“I can tell,” he snarks, but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes trace the line of your shoulders, still tense and flick to the phone in your hand. “I dropped my stuff at the register. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, nerves making your stomach ache. “C’mon,” you tell him, walking back into the store. “Let’s pay and grab some lunch. I’ll tell you when we sit down.” He follows after you a few paces behind, trying not to let worry prick in him at the anxious shift in your scent. Something was about to change, he was sure, and not entirely for the better.

Twenty minutes later, the four of you are sitting in the food court, a mess of shopping bags at your feet and a bowl of tteokbokki between you. Yoongi and Jimin had picked out all the fish cakes first and were bickering good-naturedly over who the last one should go to, but Taehyung seemed content to just gnaw at his rice cakes. You’d hardly touched anything, your eyes flicking back to the time on your phone. 1:20 P.M. Two hours and forty minutes ‘til Mr. Seo would be at your apartment to pick you up and bring you to get two more of the hybrids your uncle had bought. You push a rice cake around on your paper plate with the end of your chopstick. Well, no point delaying the inevitable.

“Hey, guys?” You call softly. Three pairs of ears swivel toward you immediately. The words die in your throat and your tongue feels like lead as they look at you, all their eyes focused and expectant. You clear your throat and force yourself to continue. “So...you know how I…” You search for the right word, but there’s really no other way to say it. “...inherited you guys from my uncle?”

Taehyung’s eyes flick toward Jimin and the leopard hybrid brushes his tail against the tiger’s. Silent communication you couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Yeah,” Yoongi says, tossing his chopsticks down and leaning back in his chair. “I told them.”

That was right. What you’d blurted out at Yoongi yesterday on the street you had yet to disclose to his juniors. “Thanks, Yoongi,” You tell him, meaning every word of it. He’d spared you from yet another uncomfortable conversation.

“...For what it’s worth, we’re glad it’s you,” Taehyung tells you, his tail twining around your ankle under the table. He looks at his hyungs for confirmation and when neither of them deny it, he settles his amber gaze back on you. “We like being here with you, even if you didn’t pick us. It’s...It’s nice.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words. He beams at you, his boxy smile soft despite the sharp incisors poking his bottom lip. “I like having you guys around, too,” you admit, taking the time to meet each of their eyes. Jimin purrs as you look at him, the corners of his mouth curling. When your gaze meets Yoongi’s, his ears twitch but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blink either, just holds your stare with an intensity that makes heat crawl up your neck. You suddenly remember the warm stretch of his body over your’s, the sensation of his lips against your neck. You snatch your eyes away and cough to cover your lapse in speech. “It would’ve been scary, I think, if I had to deal with all this alone.”

You couldn’t even imagine it.That clinically clean apartment with its blank white walls and its imposing emptiness would have driven you down until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d always had a little pit of loneliness inside you. You didn’t know how long it’d been there. Maybe it always had been, a seed of something sad and dark at the core of your soul. You’d done well keeping it contained. You felt it in your goshiwon, but your room was small. It couldn’t grow beyond your keeping. In Oliver’s penthouse, it would’ve had endless room to sprawl and with no one to clip it back, you would’ve choked to death on vines of doubt.

“There are others,” you tell them, before you can down spiral into the mire of your own thoughts. “He bought other hybrids before he died. They weren’t supposed to be coming until next week but their company wants me to come get them today.”

The mood at the table shifts almost immediately. Taehyung’s ears and tail sag, Jimin’s smile goes sharp at the edges and Yoongi’s lip curls. “How many others?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. You notice he does that when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. It’s a defense mechanism, no matter how at ease it makes him seem.

“Four,” you answer and the bobcat hybrid’s ears tilt back in irritation. “Two are coming home today and the other two toward the end of next week.” Jimin doesn’t say anything, but you see the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. He’s annoyed. Taehyung drops a hand onto the smaller hybrid’s back and rubs circles in it, trying to soothe him.

“Maybe it’ll be okay?” The tiger hybrid offers. He’s trying his best to be diplomatic, but you hear the strain in the deep timbre of his voice. “Having other cats around again might be nice. We used to live with a lot back at the center…”

You wince. “...they’re canines.” Almost immediately, all of their ears go flat against their skulls and they hiss in unison. Yoongi stifles himself the quickest, setting a hand on Jimin’s knee and squeezing to get the leopard hybrid to get a hold of himself.

“Hybrids of different species don’t play well together,” he explains. “Especially not when our animals are solitary in the wild. The only reason Jimin, Tae and I are able to stand sharing the same territory is because we’ve known each other since we were kids and we’ve had to do it before.”

Before? A question forms in the back of your mind, but now isn’t the time to ask it.

“We don’t like sharing what’s ours,” Jimin continues for his hyung, interlocking his fingers with yours on the plastic table top. “It’s instinctual.”

“I know, I know.” You squeeze his hand lightly, trying to reassure him. “But the apartment is big; can’t you avoid each other starting out?”

All three of them give you a strange look and Jimin’s lips curl in a way that isn’t quite a smile. “...right,” he purrs, a little delayed. “The apartment.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiety sinking its claws into you. “I’m really sorry to spring this on you guys, I know it’s not great, but…” Your shoulders sag. “I don’t want to have promised someone a home and rip the rug out from under them, you know?” You knew what that felt like. You wouldn’t wish that feeling on your worst enemy. “I’m just...I’m worried that they’re not being treated well.”

“They were up for sale,” Yoongi drawls. “They definitely aren’t.”

The taxi ride back to Haneul Tower is uncomfortably quiet. Jimin still holds your hand and Taehyung still leans on your shoulder, but nobody says a word. You help them carry their bags upstairs and drop them off in the master bedroom. You’d told them they could have separate rooms if they wanted, but they’d insisted on sharing, so you thought it was only fair that they get the largest room in the penthouse. Clothes went onto hangars and into closets and before you knew it, there were only ten minutes until Mr. Seo’s arrival.

“You don’t have to go,” Taehyung huffs. He’s got you wrapped in a bear- well, you suppose a tiger hug and his cheek is mashed against the top of your head. You don’t even think he’s actively scenting you at this point, just keeping you from leaving. “Send your assistant instead and stay here with us.”

You let out a puff of laughter and pat the hybrid on the back in a way you hope is soothing. “Mr. Seo isn’t my assistant, buddy, he’s my uncle’s attorney.” You give a little tug away from him and he lets you go, albeit with a sad little mrow that makes him sound just like a disappointed cat. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. The only reason he’s coming is because they broke the contract. And I can’t drive.”

The look Taehyung gives you is so downtrodden that you toy with the idea of calling the whole day off and staying with them- but no. You can’t bail out now, especially not with what you’d put Mr. Seo through when the first group of hybrids were delivered. “I’ll be back before you know it,” You tell him with a steadfast smile.

“You’d better,” Jimin says, nudging the taller hybrid out of the way. Taehyung gives a half-hearted growl, but settles as Yoongi squeezes his shoulder. “The longer you’re away, the longer you’ll have to sit in the stench of those mutts.”

You frown. “Jimin-”

“Only joking,” He soothes, bringing both of your hands up to his cheeks. You don’t believe him, but you don’t press it. The leopard hybrid nuzzles into your palms, purring happily at the feeling of your skin against his. Your palms nearly burn from how warm he is. You feel a warm puff of air against your fingers and tense as Jimin presses all ten of them against his lips.

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is hard, but his junior’s lips curl up in a satisfied smile, one of his incisors pricking at the pad of your index finger.

“Hurry back,” he murmurs. You try not to shiver at the feeling of his plush lips moving against your oversensitive fingertips.

“I’ll do my best!” You say, a pained smile tugging your lips apart. He hums in response and drops your hands, his fingers trailing across yours as he lets you go.

“Hyung,” he calls over his shoulder. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N-ah?”

“Don’t let them scent you.” Is all Yoongi says as he breezes toward the stairs. “You know better now.”

It’s as much as you were expecting. “I’ll see you guys later,” You tell them as you head out the door. “Finish setting your phones up and text me if you need anything!”

True to his word, Mr. Seo is parked out front at 4 o’clock on the dot. You haven’t seen him in a little over a week and you’d almost forgotten how imposing he was. He cuts a sharp figure against the backdrop of the bustling street, dressed in all black and leaning against a brand new Buick Enclave. The poor valet stationed at the front door looks like he’s been trying to work up the courage to ask to park his car for the past twenty minutes and sags in relief as you start heading over.

The lawyer dips his head in acknowledgement at you and checks his watch. “Miracle of miracles,” he says, popping open the passenger side door for you. “You’re on time.”

“I was late one time,” you huff, sliding past him and into your seat.

“And that was enough,” he snips back, closing your door before you can come up with a retort. You grumble to yourself, but don’t press him. You know he’s right. He’d gone out of his way to help you and you’d put him out.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as he settles into his seat and reaches for his seatbelt. “It won’t happen again; I know you’ve got other things to do.”

He stills and looks at you over the gold frames of his glasses. For a long moment he holds your gaze, unblinking. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Had you done something wrong?

Finally Mr. Seo blinks and finishes buckling himself in. “I apologize for staring, I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you correctly.” He push starts his car and pulls away from the curb. “I never thought I’d see the day a L/N would apologize to me.” He edges the car into the steady stream of Seoul traffic and you’re off, zooming toward the freeway.

Silence fills the car again, but as Mr. Seo takes on-ramp, you work up the courage to ask your question. “Did Oliver never apologize to you?”

Mr. Seo snorts and it’s such an undignified sound that you almost can’t believe it comes from him. “You could tell your uncle the sky was blue and he’d argue that it was red until he was. And your grandfather-” He seems to catch himself, reigning back whatever meager bits of his personality had managed to slip through the cracks in his normally flawless veneer. You’re all ears.

Up until a week and a half ago, you hadn’t known you had any family, much less an uncle who owned buildings and bugattis. Now you were finding out that you had a grandfather too. “What about my grandfather?” The word feels strange in your mouth. It’d been years since you’d followed the word ‘my’ up with any type of familial relation.

Mr. Seo cuts his eyes at you, and flicks them back to the front. “Nothing,” he replies, clearly done talking about him. “I spoke out of turn.” He reaches forward and turns on the radio, the sound of national news filling the silence.

You pout and slouch in your seat, disappointment setting in as the promise of new information slipped out of your grasp.

The rest of the drive is easy. Mr. Seo takes the highway out of Seoul and up into the foothills but you’re asleep before he even finds the exit. You’d slept more in the past two days than you had in the previous three weeks, but it seemed like years of bad habits were catching up to you.

Last night, you’d passed out halfway through the second movie snuggled up between Jimin and Taehyung. They’d been so warm and soft and the quiet thrumming of their heartbeats had lulled you to sleep before you knew what was happening.You’d woken up with them still curled around you and -maybe most surprising of all- Yoongi plating breakfast in the kitchen.

Still, it seemed even twelve hours of the best sleep you’d gotten in years and a peaceful morning devoid of stress -for the most part- hadn’t been enough.

You wake up just as the asphalt transitions into gravel, the sound of it crunching under the tires and the car’s shaking waking you up. You’re bleary-eyed and confused, but a sign up ahead snaps you to wakefulness. Standing like a guardian over a chain link fence topped with barbed wire is a metal sign, imposing as it is tall: Black Mountain K-9s, written in stark font.

“We’re here,” Mr. Seo says, as if it’s not obvious. He kills the engine and without its purring to distract you, you feel nerves starting to boil in your belly. What kind of place was this? You half expect sinister organ music to kick on and lightning to start flashing from black clouds. Neither of those things happen, though. The sky remains startlingly clear and the only things you can pick up are the sounds of whistles being blown, dozens of people doing call and response, and one voice, louder than all the others screaming for people to ‘Run faster! Get those knees up!’

You pop the door and step out of the car before Mr. Seo can open it for you and head around to the nose of the car, taking in the compound.

“This facility produces some of the highest caliber bodyguards in the country,” He says, coming to stand beside you. The attorney rebuttons his suit jacket and flicks his sleeves up before settling his arms over his chest. “Politicians, celebrities, even a few former presidents all have hybrids from this training center.”

“It looks more like a prison,” You remark, nodding toward the barbed wire. “First big cat hybrids, now this...Why didn’t Oliver just get regular pets if he was lonely? Was he worried someone was after him?”

“Anything I can tell you would be pure speculation,” He replies, walking away from you and heading for the callbox. “Your uncle very rarely confided in me.”

“But you were his attorney.”

For just a second, the tight grip Mr. Seo has on his composure slips. His lips press together and his shoulders sag- but just as quickly as it’d lapsed, his mask is in place again. “Yes,” he says after a beat. “I was.” And he presses the button on the call box before you can pester him with any more questions about the dead men he’d known.

The call box crackles to life, speakers squealing with feedback. You flinch and slap your hands over your ears to protect them from the splitting sound. Mr. Seo doesn’t react at all and you’re stunned, wondering how he can stand it.

“Seo Seunghan and Y/N L/N for Lim Hangyeol.”

The person on the other end doesn’t respond. The speaker cuts and a second later, the metal gate before you starts rolling to the side, pushed by invisible hands. It’s like a curtain going up at the theater.

Before you lies a wide, dusty yard, devoid of any plant life. The thick-trunked trees and lush grasses of the surrounding mountainside had been stripped down to the roots here. All that remains are a few weeds poking out around the base of the long metal buildings that ring the fence, and even those seem like an intrusion. People are making use of the space in whatever way they can. A group of people with matching cropped black ears and docked tails run past you in four straight lines, all perfectly in step with each other. Over to your right, there’s a pack of teenagers working in pairs to scale a ten-foot tall sheer wooden wall and in the center of the field, twenty kids are running through taekwondo forms, supervised by a widely smiling instructor.

You’re in awe of it all. Every single person is like a cog in a well-oiled machine, all in the same black tactical pants and compression shirt. You’d never seen so many hybrids in one place before and certainly not all of the same breed.

Mr. Seo places a hand in the center of your back, steering you away from staring and toward a squat cement building.You let him lead you.

“When we get inside,” the lawyer begins, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “Let me speak first. If we can get him to admit to breaching the contract right away, it’ll be much easier to get him to agree to a settlement.”

You frown at that. “Why would we settle?” You ask him. “It’s not like I need the money.”

“It’s a matter of principle, Ms. L/N.” He sighs, pulling open the heavy metal door and ushering you into the building. “He did something wrong, and it’s most easy for him to bear the brunt of atonement financially. Without requiring damages be paid for breaches, contract law would collapse.”

“Can’t you just have him apologize?”

Mr. Seo’s mouth twists up like he’s just tasted something unpleasant. “As you attorney, it is my duty to advise you against accepting restitution in the form of an apology. You’ll get a reputation for being a pushover.”

You wanted to be anything but. “Alright, alright,” you concede, “Do whatever you think is best.”

The building you’ve ducked into seems to be an office. Along one wall are a set of metal folding chairs doing their best impression of a waiting room. Along the other is a metal door covered in peeling paint and one suspicious dent bearing a plaque that reads ‘DIRECTOR LIM’. Set between you and it is a desk covered in a mess of paperwork. An old desktop stands among it like an island in the ocean and middle aged hybrid woman in coke bottle glasses is hunched before it, tapping away at the keyboard at a mind-boggling speed. One of her ears twitches as the pair of you approach.

“Take a seat,” she orders in a reedy voice, not bothering to look up from her work. “The Director will be with you shortly.”

“Send them in, Eunjung!” Someone shouts from behind the metal door just as she’s finished. She doesn’t look up or stop typing or even acknowledge you two again. Mr. Seo takes it upon himself to breeze past her desk and open the door for you.

The office is militaristically organized, all right angles and bare metal surfaces. There’s a black leather couch that’d seen better days to your left as you enter, a half empty water cooler to your right. Bookshelves lined with trophies and textbooks dominate the western wall. You scan the titles as you pass: Predatory Instinct: The Teaching and Training Canines, The Utility of Force, On Raising Hybrids, The Art of War, all dangerous and daunting as the man they belonged to.

Lim Hangyeol is the most grizzled man you’ve ever seen and the only other human besides yourself and Mr. Seo in the compound, it seems. He looks like a drill sergeant from an old action movie, his salt and pepper hair buzzed short and his face craggy with frown lines. There’s a semicircle of pockmark scars marring the skin of his right cheek and as you get closer, you realize they’re teeth marks. You shoot a concerned look to Mr. Seo, but he’s more focused on giving the director a shallow bow than allaying any of your fears.

“Director,” He says, straightening back up. “Thank you for having us-”

“Spare me the bullshit,” The older man orders, kicking back his office chair and sinking back into it. “Take a seat. Let’s talk business.”

A cold smile settles on your attorney’s lips and you see a cord twitching in his jaw, but he merely nods and replies in a breezy voice, “Of course.”

The two of you do as you told, settling into two metal chairs in front of his desk. These ones are nicer than the folding ones in the waiting room, but no more comfortable. You try to slide yours forward only to find that it’s bolted to the floor.

“Stops the dogs from throwin’ em when they get bad news,” Director Lim tells you as you uselessly tug at the legs. “Got tired of replacing windows.”

You grimace. If the awards on the bookshelf, what Mr. Seo had told you and the dozens of hybrids running boot camp drills outside were any indication, the man before you must’ve had some idea what he was doing. You didn’t end up providing security for high profile public figures without a smidge of credibility, you knew, but the bite marks on his cheek, the little crack about people throwing chairs at him and the way he’d referred to them as ‘dogs’ didn’t inspire confidence in you.

This was your first time visiting a place that produced hybrids, you realized. You’d never even been into a shelter before and certainly not a breeding center. Were they all like this? Devoid of anything soft or comforting, rigid with rules and regulations? Had Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung come from a place like this? You don’t know and you’re not sure you’d like the answer if you did.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” Mr. Seo starts, popping open the hinges on his briefcase and pulling out a few sheaves of paper. “After the sudden cancellation of your company’s contract with Ms. L/N, I was concerned for the state of our business relationship.” He slides one of the packets across the desk to the director.

“If I remember correctly,” Director Lim says, scanning the lines of ink and unintelligible legalese, “Me and your boss signed for delivery, not me and whoever this little girl is you brought.”

Your eyes narrow and your lips curl, but before you can give voice to the nasty thing crawling up your throat, Mr. Seo gives a subtle shake of his head and taps you twice on the knee, out of eyeshot of the director. You grumble, but cage it behind your teeth.

“See?” The man jabs one gnarled finger at the page, right over your late uncle’s flourishing signature. “It says it right there: L/N Oliver. Last I checked, he was dead. I’m not holding on to a dead man’s dogs. ”

That same muscle tenses in Mr. Seo’s jaw. “The contract states that Black Mountain Canines would deliver the hybrids my client purchased to his residence on December the eighteenth and that they would be received by a proxy if he was unavailable. You were made aware of the fact that he was unavailable, as well as the fact that he now has a proxy-

“I’ll pay the goddamn fine!” The Director barks, throwing his hands up in the air. “Christ above, I don’t know why he wanted those two fuck-ups in the first place, but I don’t want them on my property a second longer.”

You shoot Mr. Seo a look of confusion, but he just watches, blasé, as the Director rifles through his desk drawers. The man finds what he’s looking for and drops two manila folders on top of the contract. “The pair of them are useless. If it weren’t for my reputation, I’d’ve had them both sent to shelters years ago. Or put down, but you know how touchy the law is about that.”

“I don’t.” You say, your voice edging dangerously close to a snarl. It slips out before you can stop it. Mr. Seo shoots you a warning look and you ball your fists up in your sweater sleeves, fingernails biting crescent moons into your palms with the effort of keeping your mouth shut.

You can’t stand this man, you decide. He’s awful. You should’ve known that from the moment you saw elementary school aged hybrids stumbling through taekwondo drills with their ears taped and bandages on their tails. You’re going to take whatever hybrids Oliver bought, get them the fuck out of there and never look back.

If Director Lim had heard you growl at him, he gives no sign of it, just flips open the folders. “To be honest, I should be paying you to take them off my hands. They’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since they aged out of training. I told your uncle he could have his pick of the litter for what he was paying, but he wanted a wide-eyed buffoon and a mutt who’d rip your hand off soon as look at you.” Clipped to the insides are photos of two men, staring back at you in black and white.

One has the same black and tan cropped ears as every other hybrid you’ve seen thus far. Unlike them, he’s smiling. His eyes are little upturned crescent moons and he beams at you through the photo paper. There’s so much light in his face it’s nearly blinding.

The other is not nearly as inviting. The photo is taken at an odd angle and it’s blurry at the edges, like whoever took it was much shorter than the subject and had to zoom in to even get the shot. His ears, larger than any of the other hybrids and longer furred, are pinned back against his head. His jaw is clenched and he glowers down into the lens, one eye soot black and the other piercing blue.

There are stats listed on the pages behind their photos: height, weight, shot records and the like. Among them, you see their call signs, highlighted in yellow: Hope and Monster.

“I don’t know where I went wrong with him,” the director says, tapping Hope’s photo. “He went through all the training, passed all the tests, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn’t have the instinct.” He gives a single shake of his head, clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “No one wants a guard dog that’d sooner talk an intruder’s ear off than actually guard what he’s supposed to. He’s not good for much but nannying the pups, but he’s too soft on them too.”

A light bulb clicks on and you realize the hybrid in question had been the one instructing the kids outside in the center of the yard, his tail wagging a mile a minute as they completed another form correctly.

“Now this bastard…” the director continues, jamming a finger onto the second photo with so much force, it rattled the cup of pens on his desk. “Is my biggest failure.” He crosses his arms and kicks back in his chair, his dislike of the hybrid in question obvious. “His mother was the cornerstone of this facility for nearly a decade. I sold her pups to assemblymen and actors alike. Centers around the country wanted pups with her genetics. If it weren’t for her, we’d never have grown to this size.” He sounds wistful as he spreads his hands out, gesturing around himself like a king taking in his holdings. “But all good things come to an end,” He sighs. “A pack of wild hybrids settled a little higher up on the mountain.” His face darkens and his lips twist. “Wolves,” he snarls with all the disdain he can muster.

“All that about them being noble and self-sacrificing? Complete and utter bullshit,” He scoffs. “They’re transient lowlifes who’d slit your throat as soon as look at you. At first I didn’t care. They stayed on their side of the mountain and I stayed on mine, but then they started sneaking down here at night to steal my food and fuck my dogs. By the time I managed to get the cops out here, they’d cleared out and my top breeder had gone with them.”

He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I tell you, I thought I was ruined. But wouldn’t you know it, she came stumbling back here six months later, barefoot and howling to be let in and heavy with some wild thing’s pup.” Director Lim snaps both the folders shut and slides them to you across the desk. “The thing about breeding hybrids is, the money’s all in the bloodlines. No one wants a dog with mystery genetics. The only way to solve that problem is to cut it off at the root- but it was already too late by the time she got here.”

You feel sick to your stomach. You hope he isn’t implying what you think he is- that hybrid children he hadn’t planned out himself were mistakes in need of correction- but you know he is. Deep in your gut you know.

“And she spoiled him. She let him run roughshod over everyone and everybody in this compound. I tried telling her wild hybrids need a firmer hand- he certainly did if we were gonna break that wolf he’s got inside him, but she wouldn’t hear it. I tried to crop him with the other pups his age, he gave me these,” he said, gesturing to the teeth marks in his cheeks. “We keep him shut up away from the others, now, in the back when he can’t bother anyone. He gets his meals delivered but we don’t ever let him out.” The grizzled man shakes his head. “A drain on resources is what he is.”

“And his mother?” You ask, quietly.

“Eunjung?” he questions. “You met her on the way in.” The director stands and unclips a ring of keys from his belt buckle, making his way around the desk and gesturing for you and Mr. Seo to follow. “I’ve got her doing desk work now. Gotta keep her close so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.” He pushes open the door to his office, barks something at his secretary and steps outside, not looking back to see if you two are following.

You shoot Mr. Seo a look before you stand and he meets it, evenly. “We’ll discuss this in the car,” he says, stuffing papers back into his briefcase and flicking the clasps shut. Oh, you most certainly will discuss ‘it’ in the car.

You don’t really know what it is or where to even begin. The kids with bandaged ears? The fact that Director Lim seemingly decided who was allowed to see the sun and who wasn’t? You think back to the conversation you’d had with Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi last night. Right now, it seems years away, in some unreachable, idyllic past before you knew how breeding centers worked and how security hybrids were made. You feel foolish. Who were you to try to get them to let go of their pain and their hurt? If what they’d been through was even a little like what was going on here, they wouldn’t be able to for a long time. You’re angry. You’re disgusted. You are unquantifiably fucking sad.

You pass Eunjung on your way out. In your time in the director’s office, she’s pulled her ash brown hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Peeking out of the collar of her sweatshirt you can see a faded scar in the shape of a ring, little puncture marks pale and glossy. It looked similar to the one on the director’s cheek, but this one was a complete circle and not ragged at all, like she’d stayed completely still while it was given. Teeth marks.

You swallow. You want to do something, to give her some words of encouragement, but you have no idea what to say. You still don’t as you slow to a stop beside her desk, but you open your mouth to speak anyway. “I’m sorry,” You tell her, with all the sincerity in your heart.

She doesn’t answer, but one cropped ear flicks toward you and her fingers slow in their incessant race across her keyboard.

You turn to go. Mr. Seo was holding the door open for you and you can hear the director barking orders at a group of trainees to run an obstacle course faster. Just as you set foot over the threshold, she speaks. Her voice is so quiet, you have to strain to hear her over the steady clack-click-clack of her nails on the keys.

“He likes green things,” she says, not looking up from her work. “And old books.”

You look over your shoulder at her. Her face is a mask of neutrality, her eyes clear and her mouth set in a relaxed line. She looks fine, but there’s an ocean of meaning behind her words. You see her, just for a moment, as she’d been all those years ago, barefoot in the snow and begging for shelter, her stomach full with one of the moon’s own children. You commit the sight of her to memory. Then you turn and you go.

The director is waiting outside, shielding his eyes from the sun and regaling Mr. Seo with some long-winded explanation on the best way to treat hip dysplasia in Doberman hybrids. “Where to?” you ask, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence.

The man gives you a disgruntled look but despite the anxiety you feel spiking in your belly, you meet it evenly. Once upon a time, anyone in a position of authority looking at you the way he was would’ve sent you into a tailspin of self-doubt and nerves, leaving you shivering as your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, warning you of non-existent danger. If you were honest, it still did- but you didn’t have the luxury of running away and hiding anymore, not when there were people who needed you.

“Hope’s bags are in the barracks. He just needs to grab them, and he can be on his merry way,” The direction grunts. “Monster’s still locked up, so I’ll-”

“I’ll go.” You can feel Mr. Seo stiffen beside you.

“Ms. Y/N-”

“If he’s really that aggressive,” you start, your eyes not leaving the director’s for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for me to meet him now instead of when we’re packed into a car on a two hour car ride?” Director Lim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t falter. You hold your hand out for the key. Your boldness surprises you. He drops the key ring into your open palm and you wrap your fingers around it, stuffing it in your pocket before he can snatch them back. You turn on your heels and march off in the direction he tilts his head in, nothing but a hiss of your name from Mr. Seo’s lips to accompany you.

You walk quickly, eyes straight and willing your legs to go faster with every stride. It’s a long way across the compound but the less time you spend walking, the less time you have to stew in anxiety. None of the hybrids training in little packs spread across the yard pay you any mind- except for Hope.

Your path takes you directly behind the group of kids he’s working with. You give them a wide berth, not wanting to disturb them, but you get a little distracted. Your steps slow for just a moment as you drink him in. He’s tall- the same height as Taehyung, if you’re judging it right, but there’s an ease about him the tiger hybrid hasn’t yet mastered. Everything about Taehyung is pulled in. He’s always coiled tight, like he’s preparing to spring forward at any moment, all his energy drawn into the center of his being. Even last night, when you’d been cuddled up with him on the couch, he’d pulled you tight against his side, shifting and rearranging himself til you both fit on one cushion. He’d held you tight through both films, his tail curled around the both of you and his spine tight, like if he let himself relax for a moment, you’d both turn to dust on the wind.

Hope has no such fear. Everything about him is spread wide open, from the heart-shaped smile on his lips to his arms as he demonstrates a series of punches to his little pack of students. They all watch him with rapt attention, ears perked up and bandaged tails wagging. One of them asks him a question and he laughs, ruffles their hair. He laughs in a way you’ve never seen before, shoulders shaking like he can’t contain the force of it alone. It makes your heart flip.

His ears twitch, picking up the change in the cadence of your footsteps. He looks up and your eyes meet for the first time. He looks surprised to see you, for a moment, face blank- but then it melts into a soft smile, brimming with affection you’ve done nothing to earn. You snatch your gaze away and fix it to the dirt in front of you, embarrassed at being caught. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him cock his head to the side in confusion, but he doesn’t go after you. All the better, you’re all but running away from him now.

You shuffle across the compound in a blur of scuffed sneakers and frayed nerves. You barely give yourself time to look up at the small cinder block building before you, shoving the key in the padlock before you can lose what unearned confidence you have left. You twist it, yank the rusted thing open, take a deep breath and enter.

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it’s certainly not what you find. The way Director Lim had spoken about him and this place, you’d been expecting cobwebs on the ceiling, blood spatters on the wall and rusty nails on the floor. What’s before you is almost entirely the opposite.

The room is a veritable Eden.

There are vines climbing every available wall, wrapping around structural posts and digging their way between concrete blocks. Every surface is crammed full of flowering plants in makeshift pots: lilies in old water jugs, violets in a worn out boot, black-eyed susans dripping orange petals from an upturned helmet. The floor is in a similar state, ferns and foxgloves turning what little space around his bed there is into a meadow. It’s beautiful.

“He likes green things,” you marvel, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut behind you. It seemed every living thing that’d been uprooted to expand the compound had found a second life here, sheltered from the Director’s violence. Maybe the hybrid who lived here had too.

A plant different from all the others catches your eye. It’s set up on the cardboard box serving as his bedside table and it’s the only one in a real pot from what you can tell. It looks just like a miniature tree, complete with knobs on it’s trunk and tiny leaves. You let out a little sound of wonder and crouch in front of it, your fingers reaching out on their own to trail across the delicate branches-

A massive hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you cold. “Don’t touch that.”

You hadn’t heard him approach, but now you knew he was there. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy and warm. He’s looming over you. You swallow and make your arm go limp in his grip. No need to give him a reason. “I won’t,” You tell him. “Will you please let go of my wrist?”

He drops your arm without protest and relief floods your body. You weren’t sure if there was a hybrid version of lockjaw and you certainly weren’t itching to find out. You sit back on your heels and struggle to your feet, still hyper aware of the person behind you, his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. By the time you turn around, he’s back where he came from, standing in the entrance for a bathroom you hadn’t seen, half hidden behind a curtain of vines.

He looks different than the others. You’d been expecting that, but the full-length fluffy tail held stiffly behind his back and the long-furred ears pointed away from you are still a surprise. His fur, instead of being in rigid black and tan points, is marked by whorls of black, brown and gray. Instead of the lean musculature all the other hybrids had -all trim waists and narrow ankles- he’s sturdier, his shoulders broad and the veins in his forearms popping as he clenches his fists. He’s looking at you with that mismatched glare, his chin tilted toward his chest and his eyes shining aquamarine and obsidian.

“If you’re new,” he starts, voice raspy. “They should’ve told you: you’re supposed to knock before you come in.”

“No, I’m not-”

“You can leave the food over there.” He nods toward a little plastic folding table jammed into one corner. It’s the one surface in his room that’s devoid of plants and there’s nothing on it besides a metal cafeteria tray, licked clean. “I won’t move when your back is turned.”

“I’m not here to deliver your food.”

He frowns, brows drawing together as his shoulders tense. “Then why are you…?”

You ball your hands up in your sweater sleeves and turn to face him full on. “I’m here to take you home with me.” You tell him. “They didn’t tell you?”

He laughs, but it’s a cold sound, devoid of joy. “Nobody tells me anything.”

Based on the short conversation you’d had with Director Lim, his sudden cancellation of contracts and the way he seemed ready to bulldoze over anything and everyone that didn’t fit his agenda, he didn’t seem the sharing type. Still it was hard to believe he hadn’t told him he’d be leaving the compound that’s been his home for over twenty years.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you add, softly. “If you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger. But you can leave-”

“I can’t go anywhere.” He taps the collar around his neck. At first, you’d thought it was the same as the ones every other hybrid had been wearing. You can see now that it isn’t. Theirs had all been leather with thin silver buckles holding them in place. His was leather too, but the band was broader and double-layered. There’s a little box on the side with hinges and a small drawing of a lighting bolt. A shock collar.

Your stomach turns.

You take a slow step toward him, but the second you do, his ears go flat against his head and he pulls his lips back, revealing sharp teeth. You freeze, hands held up and the keys dangling from your thumb. “I have the keys,” you say, extending them toward him.

His eyes flick from your face, to the keys in your hand and back again, like he doesn’t believe what’s happening, like he can’t believe you’d actually want him free. The silence drags out into a little eternity before he speaks again. “If I try to unlock it, it’ll shock me.”

You blink up at him and risk another slow step forward, hoping you’ve caught his meaning correctly. This time, he doesn’t growl but his ears stay pinned back as he watches you through narrowed eyes. You close the distance between the two of you.

When you were six, your mom scraped together enough money to take you to Busan for your birthday. You’d spent the day down at the beach, building sand castles with sea shell windows and wading through tide pools. After the sun had set, someone had set off fireworks and you’d watched them cuddled up in your mom’s arms, eyes wide and filled with a riot of colors you had no name for. It’s strange, you know. The ocean is miles away, but that’s what he smells like: the sea and the sand, and the last curls of smoke from homemade bottle rockets. He smells like that day.

You lift your hands to the clasp on his neck and slide the key home. You twist it and the collar falls to the ground, a monster that can’t hurt him anymore. His skin is warm under your fingers, but puckered with scar tissue. There’s a ring of it around his neck, branching with whatever current had run through him in different directions. There’s no way this was legal, no way anyone with half a heart could treat another person like this. Your fingers trail one of the splits over his adam’s apple and he swallows beneath your touch, snatching your wrist again.

“Dont.” His voice is cold. You blink, shaking off whatever spell you’d been under and shuffle back quickly, eager to give him space. He cradles his throat with one long-fingered hand, massaging the skin. He rolls his neck and you look away. You shouldn’t stare; the last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable. “I’ll go with you,” he rasps, answering the question before you can ask it again.

You gape for a second. You really hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Really?” You can’t stop a note of relief from creeping into your voice.

“Anywhere’s better than here.” He answers back. So, you were a means to an end. It doesn’t bother you. You’ll be whatever you need to be to get him away from this place and that man who seemed to only want to drive him down.

“Do you need time to pack, or-?”

He gives a firm shake of his head. “There’s nothing from this place I want to keep.” And that’s the end of it. You push open the door and stride back out into the cold mountain air, trying your best to exude the confidence you know you lack. The hybrid slinks behind you, head hunched between his shoulders and every step stiff. He hesitates at the threshold and looks up at you, uncertainty written in the rigid line of his spine. He’s nervous. He has every right to be.

How long had he spent in that little cinderblock room, shut away from every living thing? How long had he spent being told that he was a monster? You didn’t believe it, not for one second. No one who was as violent as the director had painted him out to be could’ve raised that garden.

He leans out of the door frame, sniffs the air and lurches forward, out of the shadow of his room, His shoulders bunch up even higher around his head and he goes stiff like he’s waiting for a shock or a shot or a shout- but none comes. The sun is still shining and he’s barefoot in the sand, standing for the first time in years under the open sky. He exhales in a short puff and it looks like he’s going to walk beside you- but he turns on his heels on goes back inside.

You make a little noise of distress in the back of your throat. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to come with you anymore? You go to call his name out of concern- but realize you don’t know it. All you have is the call sign he’d been given and you sure as fuck aren’t calling him ‘Monster’. You don’t have to flounder for long. He comes back out two seconds later, cradling the bonsai that’d caught your attention to his chest.

“I’ll take this,” he mutters, shuffling into place behind you. You can’t smother the smile that starts tugging at your lips. Yeah, no one hateful would hold a little tree with as much tenderness as an infant.

You give him a little nod. “There’s a terrace where I live,” you tell him, starting your trek across the yard once again. “It’s got a garden and a little greenhouse on it. It’s not very big, and it’s not as pretty as your’s, but you could grow new things there, if you wanted.”

His ears twitch in response, but he keeps his glower firmly focused on the plant in his arms as he shuffles along beside you. It’s then you notice he’s barefoot. “Do you wanna go back and get your shoes?” You ask, trying to make the question sound as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t have any,” he grumbles back. “Don’t need them; I never go outside.”

Alright, that was understandable. Your first stop when you got back into the city would be a shoe store to get him a pair to wear- or maybe not with the way he kept flinching every time a whistle blew and his ears were swivelling like satellites at each new sound that reached them. You chew the inside of your lip. You don’t want to ask, but you know you should. Better to rip the bandaid off now, than get surprised later. “How long were you shut in for?”

“Fourteen.” He bites out.

“...weeks?” You venture. There's a hopeful uptick at the end of your words. Even that would’ve been horrible, even that would be worthy of the litany of profanity you’re mentally lobbing at Director Lim- but it’s still better than the truth.

The hybrid cuts a flat look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Years.”

A wall of your scent hits him like a freight train, vacillating between the thick, cloying odor of sadness and the burn of anger. His nose wrinkles at it, brows drawing together in confusion.

However little you might’ve known about hybrids, however limited your view of them was, you knew they weren’t supposed to be locked up. Domesticated hybrids like hamsters and cats might’ve been fine inside a house all day, assuming they still had regular interaction with people- but dogs weren’t. And he was half wolf. Wild, he’d have had dozens of square miles to roam over, and he’d been limited to a four-by-four yard room for fourteen years. Your goshiwon was a similar size, but it hadn’t been your whole world. All he’d had was one tiny window and what narrow view he’d managed to glimpse in the doorway when his meals were delivered.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but you’re cut off by a scream of delight and a snarl keying up in the hybrid next to you’s chest. Your jaw snaps shut with a click.

A few yards ahead, there’s a group of kids wrestling in a massive pile. They’re all giggling and rolling over each other, tails wagging a mile a minute as they play bite and make grabs for the person at the center of their puppy pile. A head of black hair and a pair of cropped ears pop up and you see that it’s Hope, smiling bright as the sun as his students try to pin him.

“You can’t leave!” One particularly determined kid yips, adamantly pushing his shoulder back to the sand. “Who’s gonna teach us?”

Hope just laughs.”Lisa is gonna teach you with the older kids-“

A chorus of disappointed barks and howls breaks out. “Ms. Lisa’s classes are too hard!” A little girl complains.

“Yeah!” Someone else chimes in. “And she’s strict!”

The hybrid ruffles both kid’s hair affectionately, careful of their bandaged ears. “Just because she won’t let you get away with skipping night practice doesn’t mean she’s strict,” he laughs. He’s only met with more grumbles and complaints.

It warms your heart to see. Even if these kids were at the mercy of their director -for now, at least- it was good that they had him to rely on. Your eyes meet and the sheer force of light in his face makes your own heat up. You look away, but he’s spotted you. He disentangles himself from the mess of kids and draws himself up to his full height. He’s in the same uniform he was in before, albeit with a black tactical bag now strapped to his back. He takes a step toward you and the wolfdog hybrid's ears go flat against his skull. He’s not deterred. “Joonie?” It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to the hybrid next to you. “Kim Namjoon, is that you?” Hope takes one step forward and the hybrid - Namjoon - takes a step back to counter him. Hope looks like he’s going to advance again, but a small pair of hands wrapped around one of his own stops him.

A little girl is holding on to him. She can’t be more than six years old. Her tail is still long and her ears are still floppy and she looks so small in her child-sized boots and cargo pants. “Mr. Hobi,” she whines, her head craned back to look up at him. “Please don’t go.”

He falters. His eyes flick from the pair of you back down to her, then he crouches, holds both of her hands in his. “I have to, Sowon-ah,” he says softly.

She sniffles pitifully and juts out her lower lip.”But why?”

It’s a fair question. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to come with you if he doesn’t want to, but he beats you to the punch. “Because it’s my job, sweetheart,” he tells her, smiling softly.

“Y-your job is to teach us,” she hiccups back, face growing blotchy as tears well up in her eyes. Hope swipes one of them away with his thumbs.

“I teach you so you can grow up well and protect your person, right?” She nods, little hands balling the fabric of her cargo pants up in her fists. “Right. Well this,” he continues, turning and looking at you with a soft smile. “Is my person. And I’ve gotta go make sure she stays safe.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you don’t deserve it. You’ve done nothing to warrant that much unearned loyalty. Sowon rubs at her eyes with the back of her hands and Hope pulls her into a tight hug.

“Ah, don’t cry, Sowon! You’ve gotta make sure you get stronger so someone takes you home, okay? You don’t wanna get old and still be here like me, right?” He squeezes her and goes to stand, but gets mobbed by his students again, all wanting their own hugs and making him swear to write them letters. It takes another five minutes of tearful goodbyes and Director Lim approaching for them to turn him loose.

“Get back to your training, all of you!” He barks, stomping out of the office and slamming the door, Mr. Seo on his heels. The kids scatter to the four winds almost instantly, not wanting to be underfoot for whatever scolding the director was about to deal out. Hope’s face remains the same but you catch his ears droop just a little as his students leave him. The wolfdog hybrid- Namjoon, you remind yourself- on the other hand has his ears flat against his skull. A growl bubbles up in his chest and rips past his lips. It’s a dark, full bodied thing that has you taking a step back and Hope shrinking with a whine.

“Joonie-” he pleads.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” All the fur on Namjoon’s body is standing on end, from the points of his ears to the tip of his tail. Even his hair has fluffed out. His mismatched eyes are narrowed, lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals his incisors and all that fury, all that rage, is leveled on Director Lim.

To his credit, the grizzled man doesn’t shrink back an inch before the enraged hybrid. His lips twist and he yanks a little remote out of his pocket, mashing a red button in the center. Namjoon flinches, his hands fly to his neck- but nothing happens. The shock collar is gone and the director has no power over him anymore.

The man in question’s eyes widen, flicking between the remote to the column of Namjoon’s throat, now devoid of his one element of control. “Where’s his collar?” He demands. “How the hell did you get your collar off?” He advances on the tall hybrid, his hand in the air and though he doesn’t stop snarling, Namjoon ducks his head, anticipating the blow.

You don’t know what moves you. Maybe it’s Hope pleading for it all to ‘stop, just stop!’. Maybit’s how Namjoon knows exactly how to move when he’s about to get hit. Maybe it’s your own lack of self-preservation. Whatever it is, you blink and you’re in front of Namjoon, your hand up and clutching the director’s forearm, stopping him from striking the hybrid behind you. You’re not strong enough to stop him, not fully. Your elbow buckles in and you stumble back, your back pressing into the wolfdog hybrid’s chest.

The director yells something at you, red flooding his face. You can’t hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the pounding of your heart. You force a dry swallow down your throat, put on your bravest face and glare up at him. “Don’t hurt him anymore.”

He reaches out with his free hand to tug you out of the way, but before he can touch you, Hope is there. He presses close to your side and holds the director’s wrist firm, his eyes on the sand and his shoulders hunched up by his ears.

Director Lim looks angry enough to spit. “Hell of a time for you to grow a backbone,” he snarls at Hope, making the doberman hybrid flinch. “I want all four of you off my property now.” He snatched his arms free and you don’t miss the nasty glare he casts at Namjoon. “And if this mutt ever shows his face around here again, I’ll-”

“Director Lim,” Mr. Seo cuts in, his voice cool. “You’ve made yourself clear; we’ll leave. You needn’t make threats.” There’s an underlying warning in the attorney’s voice. The director locks his jaw.

“Get out.” He breathes. Hope ducks around him, his head low and his docked tail pressed close to his back. If he could tuck it, you think he would. You follow after him, eyes fixed straight ahead and your back ramrod straight. He might’ve scared the shit out of you, but you weren’t going to let him see that. Mr. Seo fixes you with a hard look and the second you’re within arms reach, he presses a hand to your back and ushers you toward the gate. The only one who remains is Namjoon.

He looks like his anger has rooted him to the spot. His ears are still flat against his head, his lip still curled.

“Do it, boy,” the director taunts. “Give me a reason-”

“Namjoon.” At the sound of his name, his ears prick up and you turn around. It’d come not from Hope- which you’d expected, seeing as he seemed to be the only one who actually knew his fellow hybrid’s name- but from the open door of the office building where Eunjung stood. She looks at him, her expression unreadable and he stares back. All the tension in his body has shifted and for a moment, you think he’s going to spring toward her and fall into her arms- but she gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head and his face hardens. His arms tighten around his bonsai. You think you know, now, why it was the only plant in his room that had a pot.

“Go,” she says and all the tension leaves him. His shoulders curve in and he drags himself past the director, out from the fence and toward Mr. Seo’s car. There’s something final about the way the gate rolls shut after him. If you hadn’t known better, you’d’ve sworn you heard him whine as it locked.

The car ride down the mountain is...interesting to say the least. Hope insists that the seating arrangements inside the Buick be done to his specifications,( “You’ve gotta sit in the middle,” he tells you, pointing to the narrow center seat. “And Joonie and I will sit on either side of you to protect you in case we crash!” His tail is wagging a mile a minute behind him. You’re surprised it can move that much, given how short it is. Mr. Seo looks affronted at the unintentional jab at his driving and Namjoon just looks irritated. “I told you to stop calling me that.”) and he keeps throwing an arm across your middle everytime the car hits a bump. You’re going down the side of a mountain. There are a lot of bumps. He also keeps pressing his nose against the glass of his window, ears pricked up and trying to take in every tree that passes by. Namjoon, on the other hand, slouches back in his seat, his body curved around his plant and ever so slightly away from you. He still watches the world pass by, but he doesn’t acknowledge any of you or speak- which would be fine if anyone else would. Hope seems to be doing his best to appear stoic and alert every time you look at him and Mr. Seo seems comfortable with the quiet. So, you’re left to ride the two hours back to Seoul in silence.

You almost cry with relief when your phone buzzes with an incoming text. You fish the device out of your pocket, thumb it to life and scan your notifications.

Unknown Sender [7:13 PM] where are you

You frown. Very few people had your number or any reason to text you. You’re about to chalk it up to a wrong number when the second text rolls in.

Unknown Sender [7:14 PM] it’s yoongi

Now that’s a surprise. When you’d hurriedly told the boys to text you, you’d been expecting Jimin to urge you to hurry or for Taehyung to ask for updates, not for their hyung to check your progress. A little smile pricks at your lips as you rush to reply

You [7:14 PM] We’re on the way back now!

Unknown Sender has been changed to Yoongi

Yoongi [7:14 PM] can i call

You bite the inside of your lip, suddenly nervous. You know there’s no reason to be. After all, you tell yourself, what’s scary about a pair of roommates talking on the phone? You give him the go ahead and not three seconds after the delivered notification pops up, you get a call. You answer it on speaker.

“...Hello?”

“Did you just start driving?” Yoongi’s voice is thick with sleep, like he’s just woken up. It’s different than normal, his usual smooth drawl gone gravelly.

“Y-yeah,” you reply, trying to ignore the way Hope is watching you out of the corner of his eyes and Namjoon’s ears have swiveled back toward you. “It’s gonna be awhile, still. Are Taehyung and Jimin-”

“They’re fine; They ate dinner earlier and they’ll be asleep til you get back.” He yawns and you picture him slouched on the couch, his hair mashed up on one side and his face puffy. “Why do you sound nervous?”

“I’m not,” you counter. It’s a blatant lie and he knows it. He hums in doubt, but doesn’t press you.

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Do you want me to text you when we’re close?” It’s an innocuous question. There’s no reason you can see for him to pause as long as he does. For a second you think you’ve lost him- after all, mountains aren’t known for having great reception- but then you hear his breath fan over the receiver.

“...Yeah.”

You give a little nod you know he can’t see. “Okay.” He makes a little noise of assent and then his line clicks off. You hang up. Just as you do, another text comes through.

Yoongi [7:16 PM] don’t let them scent you

“Who was that?” Hope asks in a small voice, pulling you away from your phone screen and Yoongi’s insistence that you remain scent-free. His tone is open, but you can tell by the way his knee is bouncing that he really, really wants to know. “Is that your husband?”

The bark of laughter that rips past your lips is out before you can think to stop it. Namjoon flinches and you wince at him in apology, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. Hope is frowning at you in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side. You force yourself to calm and answer him. “No, Yoongi is not my husband.” You weren’t sure if you even really qualified as friends at this point. “He’s another hybrid that lives with me.”

Hope perks up in his seat. “You have another hybrid? Director Lim always told us that once we left the center, we’d be alone.” Your expression sours at the mention of the ill-tempered man and you shake your head.

“No, there’s a lot of hybrids in Seoul,” you tell him, eager to dispel some of his misconceptions. “The three that live with me are named Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung. Yoongi’s around your age, I think. Jimin and Taehyung are younger.” The doberman hybrid sits at rapt attention, soaking up every bit of information you give him and waiting eagerly for more. What else could you tell him about them? You remember the boys’ reaction that morning when you told them you’d be bringing dog hybrids home. “...They’re all felines,” you say, slowly, trying to gauge their reactions.

“So that’s why you smell like that.” It’s the first words Namjoon’s spoken since you all piled into the car. You turn to him, but he’s not looking at you.

“What do you-?”

“You smell like other hybrids,” Hope says, covering for him. “But I’ve never smelled any that weren’t other dogs before.” He leans closer, his seatbelt stretching. You tense and lean away from him, but he’s not deterred. The tip of his nose brushes your neck and you have to fight off a shiver as he breathes you in. “They smell the same…” he starts, his breath fanning over your throat. “...but different? And one of them isn’t as strong as the others-” He presses closer, trying to catch the scent that’s eluding him. You make a noise of mild distress and lean further back, pressing into the solid wall that is Namjoon.

“Hoseok, let it go .” Hoseok. That was his real name then. To your surprise, the dog hybrid pulls back as instructed, settling back into his seat without so much as a whine.

“I’ve never met a cat before,” he muses, turning his attention back to the window. “I hope they’re nice.”

You think about the chorus of hisses you’d been met with when you told the boys they’d have to share their space. You hope so too.

It’s 9:30 by the time Mr. Seo drops you off back in front of your building. He wishes you a good night and promises to call later in the week to discuss Black Mountain Canines. You’re not sure if there’s anyone to report him to or anything you can do, but you want to try. What you’d seen at the compound was wrong any way you looked at it. It made you sick to leave anyone there knowing how the director treated Namjoon and Hoseok. No one was useless. No one deserved to be locked away for years at a time for the sheer crime of existing. You’d make them see that.

The moment you step out of the car, Hoseok is all wide smiles and exclamations. “Woah, you live here?” he asks, tilting his head back to take in all fifty-one floors of Haneul Tower in their sparkling, glass-paned glory.

“Yeah,” you tell him, handing him his bag. In his excitement to get out of the car, he’d abandoned it and Mr. Seo had nearly driven away with it. “But I just moved in a couple days ago, so it’s still pretty empty.”

Hoseok nods, scanning the windows like he’ll be able to pick out which one’s your’s. Behind you, Namjoon is lingering on the sidewalk.

He’s still got his bonsai clutched close to his chest and he’s hunched down around it like he’s trying to stop unseen hands from picking at it. His shoulders are bunched up by his ears, and he flinches with every car horn, every siren that comes to you on the wind. He’d grown up in the mountains and spent the better part of his life indoors. It only made sense that he’d be sensitive to the sounds of the city.

“Is there a security system?” Hoseok asks, still enamored with the building. “How many entrances does your apartment have?”

“Just one second,” you tell him, forehead wrinkling as you take in Namjoon. You slide slowly toward the wolfdog, not wanting to startle him. “Namjoon?” He flinches when you call his name, head whipping toward you. “Do you wanna go inside? I know it’s new, but it’ll be quieter, I think.”

His mismatched eyes flick from you, to Hoseok, to the building and back to you before settling firmly on the concrete at his feet. He seems different than he had in the mountains. He’s smaller, quieter, less sure of himself. Was it because this is all new territory for him? Or had the snarling hybrid in the mountains just been a roll he was forced to play, the mythic monster to the director’s tyrant king.

“You don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to,” you tell him, in a voice you hope is reassuring. “We can wait, if you need to.”

“I’ll wait with you, Joonie,” Hope chimes in, giving the larger hybrid the same soft smile he’d given his students earlier.

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It...it’s fine,” he mutters, “We can go in, I just…” He takes a few hesitant steps forward and huddles closer to you. There’s still an inch between you, but it’s closer than you’d thought he’d come.

You peer up at him. “Okay?” You ask. He gives a single nod and your little group moves through the double doors and into the lobby.

It’s quieter at this time of night. You don’t recognize the woman standing behind the reception desk. There’s no one really around except one man, pacing the width of the lobby looking thoroughly put out. You can’t really see his face, but there’s something familiar about the slant of his body. He whirls around as the glass doors click shut and you catch sight of a fringe of gray hair, pointed ears, narrowed yellow eyes and an all too familiar pout.

Yoongi.

“Fuck.” You’d completely forgotten to text him. Judging by the look on his face as he stalks toward you, he wasn’t happy about it. To his credit, Hoseok does his best to guard you, sliding in front of you and pushing you behind him. You can’t see Yoongi’s ears beneath the hat he’s wearing but if his curled lip and narrowed eyes are any indicator, they’re pinned straight back.

“Move.” He snarls at the doberman hybrid. Hoseok is taller than he is, but the closer Yoongi gets to him, the smaller he seems to shrink. There’s fire in the bobcat hybrid’s eyes. Hope whimpers and slinks out of his way, ears low.

You wince. “Heeeeey, Yoongi. I’m sorry I forg-“ before you can even finish the sentence, he tugs you toward him by the shoulders. His face roves your neck, sniffing in earnest as he tries to pick up the scent of the other hybrids on you. All is well until he reaches the right side of your throat and grazes over the exact spot Hoseok had nosed earlier. He pulls away slowly, his shoulders tight. His head turns slowly to the doberman hybrid, mechanical.

“You.” He hisses at the other hybrid with so much virulence it makes your blood run cold. He takes one step toward him, teeth bared in a snarl, but Namjoon slides in front of him bumping him back. A growl bubbles in the bobcat hybrid’s chest and the wolfdog matches it, both their ears pinned flat against their skulls.

“Hey-” If either of them hear you, they don’t react. They’re too focused on having a staring contest. “Hey!” You push between them, a hand on either of their chests. Namjoon snarls as you touch him and Yoongi looks ready to skin him alive for that alone. He pushes against your hand, trying to get closer to the taller hybrid. You ball your hand up in the fabric of his shirt. “Stop it!” The receptionist already has the lobby phone in her hand. She’s whispering earnestly into it and you’re sure security will be on the way any second. You exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “Everybody, elevator.”

Yoongi hurls an accusatory finger in Hoseok’s direction. “These fucking-”

“Yoongi, please,” you plead. That gets him to stop. His arm falls to his side and he glowers down at you for a few seconds before stalking over to the elevators and slamming the up button. “I’m sorry,” you murmur to Hoseok and Namjoon. The smaller of the two hybrids is still hunched in on himself and the taller has Yoongi fixed in his mismatched gaze, his lips curled in anger.

This was not the way you wanted this to go. You’d wanted them to have time to settle before you discussed next steps and gave them the same talk you’d given the felines, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. You don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi. You’d thought the bobcat hybrid was calm, cool and collected, completely unflappable in the face of anything. Apparently not. He seemed upset that some of Hoseok’s scent had gotten on you, but there’d been no way to help that. You’d been packed in a car with him and Namjoon for two hours. It was inevitable, wasn’t it?

“It’s not okay,” you tell them, wanting them to know you didn’t condone the way Yoongi had acted. “I don’t...I don’t know why he’s acting like this; he doesn’t normally. Do you wanna go up separately?”

It’s Hoseok who answers. “No, we’ll go up together,” he assures you with a small nod. “If...maybe if we get used to each other, it’ll be okay?”

You’re not optimistic, but you give him a pained smile you hope is reassuring. “Yeah, maybe?” You cast a look back over your shoulders. Yoongi is waiting by the elevators, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail flicking in irritation. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Well, there was no avoiding it. “Come on,” you tell them. “Just...keep to the other side, for now. I’ll stand between you and him.”

The four of you pile into the elevator, all tucked into your own corners. It’s strange, you think. It’s never seemed small until now. Hoseok keeps casting worried looks over at you, Namjoon keeps subtly shifting closer and Yoongi is still glowering at the both of them, angry for a reason you can’t quantify.

“If it helps,” Hoseok starts softly, his voice an intrusion in the awkward silence. “I really didn’t mean to, honestly-”

“Don’t apologize.” Namjoon counters. “If it bothers him that much, he can speak up”

You don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s too late that you realize the canines aren’t addressing you. Suddenly, Yoongi’s fingers are hooked through one of your belt loops. He yanks you backwards and you stumble, falling against the length of his body. “My bad,” You shoot out, before the hybrid can hiss at you. “I just lost my bala-” The words die on your tongue as Yoongi fixes his mouth to the soft skin of your throat. The elevator goes quiet.

The canine hybrids avert their eyes almost instantaneously, instinct telling them they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t be. Yoongi keeps them fixed firmly in his sights, a dark growl bubbling in his throat.

Your fingers flex uselessly at your sides, hands clenching unclenching as the hybrid works over the sensitive skin of your neck with his teeth and tongue. ‘Don’t make a noise,’ you plead with yourself. ‘This isn’t what it feels like. Don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise, don’t make a noise-’ Yoongi’s incisors graze over a vein and a little whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. The grip he has on your hips becomes bruising. You feel your legs turning to jelly beneath you. Any more of what he was doing, and they’d have to mop you up off the elevator floor. You force your throat to swallow. “Y-Yoongi, I think that’s enough-” You don’t know if he hears you over the noise he’s making, so you lace your fingers through his and untangle them from your hips. He releases you with a wet pop and you slap a hand over the skin he’d marked. Heat floods your face and a smirk spreads across Yoongi’s, his teeth flashing at the canines. He leans in again to rub his nose against the mark he’d made- but a hand on his chest stops him.

“Can you stop?” You ask in a small voice. Honestly, you’re embarrassed. Regardless of what the articles said about mark-making being platonic, it doesn’t feel friendly. It feels possessive and mean and you don’t like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you like you asked, but what is with you today?” Yoongi’s expression changes from smug satisfaction to confusion and then surprise, like he hadn’t expected you to protest. “I know what I said about you being ready but…” You rub a hand over the mark, wiping away saliva and your sweat. The bobcat hybrid visibly deflates. The elevator chimes for the fiftieth floor and the doors roll open slowly. You rush out before any of them can and start punching the code in your door with shaky fingers. You don’t know what to say. You’re tired and stressed and you don’t know what’s going on. Was this about the apartment? You knew the felines wouldn’t be happy about sharing their space, but why had Yoongi gone this far?

“Y/N…” He trails after you, his ears drooping. You shake your head, You can’t talk to him right now.

“In the morning,” you tell him as the door swings open. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” You can’t deal with everything that’s happened today, and Yoongi flipping out and getting the canines settled. You weren’t that good at juggling.

By the grace of all that’s merciful, Taehyung and Jimin are still asleep when you walk in. You’d need to have an extended meet and greet tomorrow, you decide. Maybe do some icebreakers or team building exercises. If they reacted anything like their hyung did, you were in for one hell of an adjustment period.

Hoseok and Namjoon trail you into the penthouse warily, sniffing the air. You want to give them time to explore and get their bearings, they deserve that, but with the way Yoongi still seems agitated when they venture anywhere but exactly in your steps, that’ll need to be saved until tomorrow morning too. You give them the most spartan tour you can muster up and show them each to a guest room, promising to order them furniture and get them the things they need tomorrow.

By the time you collapse into your own bed, it’s damn near 11. You groan and drag a pillow over your face as you ask the universe for the thousandth time why it had decided to continuously kick your ass. Having three hybrids had been hard enough. Having five of all different species was likely to prove impossible and having seven was going to be a sisyphean task you’d had no training for. You groan and kick your feet in the air, allowing yourself the brief respite of a temper tantrum before crawling under your covers and flicking the lamp off. Maybe in your dreams there’d be no stress and no snarling hybrids with behavior you couldn’t explain.

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

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robinofinashiro · 3 years

Text

request from anon: “Hi, can I request yandere alphabet for Kyojuro Rengoku 👉👈Thank you and have a good day Queen.”

pairing: yandere! kyojuro rengoku x fem reader

request status: OPENED

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

rengoku does not give a singular fuck who sees him when it comes to giving you affection! you’re in the public? you’ll be holding his hand, kissing your cheek when he feels like it, and if it’s that bad, he’ll do a quickie in the bathroom.

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

very messy! he doesn’t care. if he sees someone getting too close to you, he’ll make sure to get rid of them as soon as possible. he can’t let anyone get close to you. he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you’re by his side and that no one comes in between the two of you.

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

honestly, he’ll mock the hell out of them when he feels like it’s necessary. if you’re purposely doing things to annoy him or going out of your way to piss him off, he’ll make sure to remind you that you’re never leaving him. other than that, he’ll treat you like you’re a princess! you deserve everything in the world and he’ll give it to you if he feels like you deserve it.

D - Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

despite from the sweet nature that he gives off, he will do ONE thing against your will and that’s to have kids. he needs to continue his family line and since Senjuro isn’t working to be a pillar anymore, he needs to make sure that someone continues that and it might have to be his kid.

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

rengoku, when he feels like the time is right, will bare everything to his darling. come on now, you’re gonna be his wife, right? it’s only right that you know what his baggage is! he doesn’t care if you judge him or not, when it comes to this sort of thing, he kinda wears his heart on his sleeve.

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

he would be kinda pissed. you’re supposed to be this perfect wife/darling and by you acting out, he doesn’t sit well with that. why can’t you be more like Sanemi’s wife? a perfect little darling that just sits there and waits for her husband like she should. punishment is a whole other ballgame that i will touch on later.

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

absolutely tf not. how can this be a game to someone? rengoku is the kinda person where if he meets someone that he falls madly in love with, he’ll stick by you until one of you dies first and even then, he might commit sewerslide if you happen to be the one to go first. however, he might get a kick watching you trying to leave him bc it’s nearly impossible to leave where you’re trapped.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

rengoku’s affection, jesus christ. that shit could get mad annoying. if he’s had a particularly bad day, just brace yourself and let it happen bc he will be one affectionate mf. it could get to the point where he’ll be affection even into the next day if it’s that bad.

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

literally a picture perfect life. (very much the american dream in a sense). he wants kids, hell, if you want pets of some sort, he’s down to adopt a few dogs or whatever you or your kids want. he just wants everyone to see that his family is perfect and how far he’s willing to go for them.

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

oh absolutely. rengoku is the type of mf that if he sees someone flirting with his darling, he’s ending that shit QUICK. he cannot and will not let it happen. clearly it isn’t your fault so he’ll console you that you had no way of knowing what that scums intentions were and after he’s done with that, he’ll try to find the person to give them a lesson.

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling

he will be very clingy like i said. he wants everyone to know that his relationship is perfect but in private, double that. he’ll make sure that you know you’re loved and that he wouldn’t trade his life with you for anything in the world.

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

he would try the attempt to court you at first. rengoku is someone who is very charming so 8/10 times, it’ll work. however, if you’re being stubborn, that’s when the other side of rengoku comes out. but if you do decide to date him willingly, he’s the sweetest mf ever. he’ll bring you courting gives to every date, etc, etc.

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

honestly, rengoku is seen as the black sheep in the sense that he’s always readily happy and enthusiastic. not much changes when he’s in the public. unless you happen to piss him off in public, seemingly the only time when he would change his personality.

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

he doesn’t try to do it often, he hates seeing you hurt. but if you happen to actually piss him off to the point where you need to be punished, anything ranging from being alone for days to sexual punishment (that i wont be going into detail for).

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

not many tbh. you have free range into his entire estate. however if he has maids working around, they know it’s best for them not to talk to you. he wont let you leave his estate to speak to anyone. you have the right to anything as long as you’re not trying to leave or get into contact with someone. he’ll even let you visit your friends or family as long as he’s there.

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

eh, he’s about 50/50. he can be very patient with you or be ticked off almost immediately. more than likely tho, he’ll deal with your shit most days. the days that he doesn’t, it’s probably bc he had already probably had a bad day and you’re just making shit worse.

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

if you die, rengoku won’t move on and like i said before, he’d probably commit sleep forever. if you escape, he’ll spend the rest of his days looking for you. regardless if you escape or die, he won’t move on. you’re his and you will remain that way important person in his life.

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

to a certain point, he’d feel guilty. i think the only thing eating him up is the unethical part in all of this. the fact that he’s basically abducted you and refuses to let you go. but will he ever let you go? absolutely not. you’d have to kill him before that happens.

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

i see the only way this happening is bc of his life. his childhood wasn’t the greatest but it wasn’t exactly the worst so idk, i think more than anything it was out of curiosity and probably seeing others do it that make him snap.

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

if rengoku isn’t at fault for making you upset, he’s HEARTBROKEN. he doesn’t like seeing you that way and he’ll find the person that did it and make them pay for it. HOWEVER, if he was the cause of it, he almost turns into a wall and brushes it off, probably murmuring that you deserved whatever it is that made you cry.

U -Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

honestly no. he wouldn’t only bc he’s very much the person that finds the classics of being a yandere as the only way to do it. anything like killing your darling or along those lines are way to extreme for him and he doesn’t like it when others step out of line.

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

SENJURO RENGOKU. his little brother is also his world and i think if you catch kyojuro in a situation where you can exploit senjuro, he might give in but honestly, it probably won’t hurt and it’ll be worse for you when he finally has you alone.

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

like i said before, only if it was necessary. he wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you if you didn’t deserve it. he doesn’t like seeing you hurt and he hates seeing you cry so only if it came to you being a brat would he then actively physically punish you.

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

ehhhhhh, not really. he sees this relationship as 50/50 however he did kinda worship you when he wasn’t your boyfriend/husband but he would go different lengths in order to win you over. he doesn’t really care what he has to do, he will make you his whether you like it or not.

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

tbh, it doesn’t take long before he snaps. if he sees you going out with someone and he feels like you might leave him, that’ll be a point. if he sees you being too free, that might be another point. in general, less than a year before he snaps. hell, less than half a year.

Z - Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

mentally, YES! physically, if he needed to. but not to the point where he’s killed you.

#yandere demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer x reader #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku imagine #yandere kyojuro rengoku

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thefanbasewhore · 3 years

Note

Can you do a soulmate Stucky x reader? I feel like you would write that so well, especially how you portrayed bucky in "are you mad at me" was so soft. The soulmate version would be so cute

Summary || Bucky and Steve meet their soulmate, which they had no idea existed.

Warning/content || fluff, a small explicit scene, fighting. Soulmate AU.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve rogers

I got a little carried away, but enjoy ❤️ not edited or beta read but I'm sleepy 😴

Bucky and Steve have had each other from the moment they have met. Imaging their surprise, being two little boys from Brooklyn seeing colors, something the two agreed to hide, pending the time period.

It was different now, a different time. They were accepted and while both of them loved each other, so very much, especially through the mind control, fighting each other, then for each other. They always knew something was missing.

A color, maybe even two, three. A part of them missing but they both collectively came to the conclusion that it was just that. Some missing colors, it happens sometimes.

It happens when they least expect it.

After Thanos, after Tony finally deciding to leave that kind of life behind, buying a small two bedroom house on the outskirts of the city. A home to grow old in, be together for the first time since before the war started but only one thing prevented that.

The house was a disaster, gutted to the foundations, no running water, green moss outside covered the whole house, the lawn completely out of control. For Bucky it was a hard no, it was a dump but the moment Steve fluttered those ridiculously long lashes, how could he say no?

So here they are, sweating on this 90 degree day, putting up new dry wall with no air-conditioning.

"What color should it be?" Steve asks, glancing to his dark haired lover, taking notice of his now shirtless appearance. Bucky let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Maybe we should get all of the walls up first."

Steve clicks his tongue, "I like the color green, like a nice pastel mint green."

"Whatever you want, honey." Bucky wasn't too picky, besides whatever made Steve happy, made him happy.

"Hello?" A sweet, feminine voice came from the kitchen. The doors left open because of the heat, there was nothing much in here anyways.

Steve pulls away from his task, pulling his shirt over his head to wipe his forehead with it. "Come in, we are in the kitchen."

Bucky wasn't too alarmed, Steve had told him previously that he hired a someone to make up the yard, nothing too fancy but the both of them were completely clueless when it came to plants, or gardens period.

"Quite a project you have going on here, Mr. Rogers." No doubt taking in the half gutted house along the way. While they have never met, they spoke on the phone briefly about his wants.

"You have no idea, Hun."

The woman looks around the kitchen first, noticing the freshly painted cabinet, the smell a dead giveaway, half eaten burgers thrown to the side on a small, make shift table with barely enough room to fit.

At first glance towards the man she notices the sharp jawline, defined but soft feature of the blonde as she greets him with a smile which soon drops in confusion as small dots of color appear. Stormy blue eyes with a full beard, Steve's mouth dropping agape as he notices the splirts of color - the missing colors for 106 years finally appear.

Bucky notices the tension in the room, shifting his attention from the wall to Steve, noticing how intensely he's staring, Bucky follows the line of vision and meets sweet eyes.

She's hit with another line of color, different from Steve's but now there's no more gray hue, bright yellows and blues. The outside is suddenly so bright and Bucky mouth drops.

This cannot be happening.

They sit there and stare for what seems like hours.

"I - ugh.." she starts, "What is happening?"

***

Sometimes life just throws curve balls, like finding out that your soulmate or in this cause soulmates are two, one hundred year old super soldiers who have already been in love with each other for over a decade.

The pull is already strong, nature intended for these souls to be together until death due part and honestly Bucky could feel it. With Steve he was used to the urge of wanting to have him close, kiss him every free minute he has but with the woman in front of him, it's new.

He doesn't even know her name, watches the way she nervously flickers from Steve's gaze to his own. She's beautiful.

Strong but delicate features, the curve of her nose is cute, cupid lips are so full... kissable. He can't stop staring, even with Steve and her in the mist of conversation. The make shift table cleared of all prior mess, Buck and Steve have to share a chair, which is quite comical, seeing two giant supersoldier try to share a small, old, dinning room seat.

Bucky's metal fingers twitch, metal plate click and whirl to life as he tights to urge to map her face out with his fingers. His heart is beating so fast, filled with so much... Love? Joy?

No matter how much Steve and Bucky try to hide it.. deep down they always knew, something was missing and in this case, someone.

"You're beautiful." The words catch both her and Steve off guard, Bucky blushes red something terrible but the sweet smile defuses the fire.

Well until she says something back, "You are too."

His whole face is hot and Steve reaches over to affectionately rub the back of his shoulder. Of course Steve was calm, he always is.

He handles things with lots of thought and understanding, while Buck is more hot headed, acts on the moment.

***

"It doesn't feel right." Bucky comments, watching from the window to insure she safely gets into the car. Steve sighs, by the time they're done talking darkness has filled the house. Steve affectionately squeezes the brunette's bicep, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I know Bucky. This is a lot for her, for us. She needs to take time and reflect on this. She'll come to us when she's ready."

Bucky knows nothing then her name, and love for plants but chews at his bottom lip nervously. She's too far, the bond pulls at his heart strings. Now bonded forever. "What if she never comes back?"

"She will."

***

A few days pass, the kitchen is finally done, new appliances, new china and kitchen fully stocked. Steve is making something for Dinner - it smells amazing while Bucky starts painting the walls of the lifeless living room.

It's bare, not even something to sit on but no doubt with the stamina of two super soldiers it will be done by next week.

The knock on the front door is unexpected, but Bucky replies quickly. "I got it, Stevie!"

He expects some older, much wrinkly neighbor to be complaining about the noise of the nail gone or something this late at night. His mouth drops, a little shocked at the sight of her.

A very formal sitting dress, long and black, dips into a sweetheart neckline, the valley of her breasts easily visible. Hair is thrown into a neat updo, sexy and sleek.

Bucky clears his throat. "Hi." He squeaks out, feeling like a total idiot as he watches her nervously shift her weight from one heel to the other.

"Hi, I was in the area. A wedding for one my clients, thought I'd come say hello." Bucky wants to shake his head in disbelief that something so beautiful, just like Steve is made for him.

The universe sculpted and made two beautiful, breath taking human beings to be his and it's overwhelming. She's so pretty it's alarming.

It was a good excuse, the truth but not the real reason she stopped by. How could she tell them that they have been on her mind none stop? It physically hurts to be away for so long.

"Who is it, Buck?" Steve mumbles, interrupting the thick tension between the two.

"Come in, doll." Bucky's helps her with the jacket that lays over his shoulders, mentioning his head towards the direction of the kitchen, where his other lover is.

Steve is stunned none the less, he at least expected a few more days. Also, feeling much like Bucky, amazed by the radiating beauty.

He decides to play it cool, dimples forming with a breath taking smile. "Do you like spaghetti?"

Hours pass, time moves so fast with conversation, and adding wine to the mix surely didn't help.

The trio once again in the kitchen, but this time each have a chair, a new, more comfortable dinning set.

"You got this done fast. It's beautiful." She comments, "Colors are beautiful, I guess I have you two to thank for that."

Bucky shifts in his seat, the glass of wine is useless but still finds himself sipping from it. Her eyes are red, watery with a slight buzz.

"Do you feel it?" The question has both Bucky and Steve look at each other, watching her teary eyes as she presses a hand to sooth the ache in her chest. "It hurts, it hurts to be away. All week."

"It's normal." Steve answers just above a whisper, his next words make Bucky's bottom lip quiver. "I felt it every day for the last 5 years, Bucky was gone."

Bucky had never thought about it - there hasn't been enough time to. It's only been a month later since the return and it never occurred to him what Steve has gone through.

"Steve.." He starts, tears kiss his waterline as his fingers run through the blonde's hair. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't know, I -."

"Couldn't prevent it Buck. It happened but you're here now and.." Steve turns his attention towards the girl, tears slip past her eyelids. It's for Steve, for Bucky.. all the pain and suffering they've been through. "Hey, don't cry, it's alright beautiful."

It's feels right, despite barely knowing the man, nothing feel more right then being pulled into his chest as a large metal hand comforts her in a different way, rubbing the loose strands of hair as he murmurs. "We've got you now, you're our other half."

***

Months have past from that day. The house is finally done, everything they could have imagined with the additional of an extra tooth brush in the cup that sits on the bathroom sink, a pile of fuzzy blankets at the bottom of the bed and a five year old chocolate lab. Steve didn't mind much, he's always loved dogs, Bucky on the other hand...

"Alright, alright, Maverick." Bucky huffs, grocery bags in hand as the dog excitedly nuzzles his legs, following him throughout the house like it wasn't only an hour ago he's seen him. Once putting the bags down, hears the whine, big brown eyes staring up at him. Bucky sighs, dropping to a knee before petting the pup's head. "Alright you mutt, don't tell anyone about this."

"Too late, pal." Bucky jumps, hearing the amusement in Steve's voice, followed by the giggle of the woman that peers out from behind him. Wrapping her arms around Steve before testing her head against his shoulder.

"Caught you red handed, you love Mav." Bucky grumbles at her words, feeling two smaller hands wrap around his waist as a head falls into his chest. He presses a soft kiss into her hair before taking in the blonde that barely fits through the doorway he leans against.

Bucky's free hand reaches out, mentioning him closer but as she's soon finds herself in the middle of a super soldier sandwich. "Hi, baby." Bucky presses a kiss to the blonde's lips.

"Hi, pal."

***

"It's only one mission. That's it, we will be in and out." Steve promises, not liking the way his girls face twist into a worried expression.

Heavy eyes, lower lip sticking out to pout. "What if something happens? If you get hurt? Or if they find you, Bucky?"

"I told you, Hydra is gone, honey." Bucky's large hands sooth over her tight shoulders, pressing soft kisses to the back of her upper traps.

"No. You still have nightmares at least three times a week. This can't be good for you. And you." She turns her attention back towards Steve, "Barely sleep four hours a night. You carry the fault on your shoulders, you don't need anymore. I don't want you two to go."

"We don't have a choice. They were my family once, I owe this to them." Steve didn't miss the way her lips moves to form a snarl, not sparing another glance as she makes a b-line for the stairs.

Bucky sighs, leaning against the wall. "She's going to be mad at us." Rubbing his chest with hopes to ease the burn.

The bond pulls at their hearts, a slow, painful punishment for their actions.

They return two weeks later, tired, just wanting to see their girl. The moment they walk into the house they look at each other with will wild eyes, heart pumping as they fear the worse. The dog, the annoying wiggling tail that would bark is one where to be found, something is wrong.

It's alarming. "Where is that freaking mutt?"

Steve calls her name, but there is no answer. Bucky and him are searching the house, ascending the stairs, opening the bedroom door with a deep sigh of relief.

The stupid dog takes up half of the bed, but is cuddled into his owner. Arm draped around the ball of fur, amount as long as her.

The dog lifts his head, a little tail waggle as Steve stretches his ears, lowering to his knees and laying his top half over the bed to press loud, audible kisses to his ears. "Good boy, protecting our girl while we are gone."

When morning comes she notices the dog is still pressed against her, licking small stripes against her cheeks. "Have to go out, buddy?"

She barely makes it five steps before tripping over two rather large bodies, sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor. Bucky groans and Steve's eyes flicker open.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Wanted you to sleep pretty girl. Mav was taking up all the room and you looked like an angel." Bucky hums in agreement despite his eyes being closed.

"Mmm, well it's all free now." It's short, simple but the sarcastic tone has Bucky's eyes flickering to meet his boyfriend's. They both sigh, staring up at the ceiling, knowing it's going to be a long day.

And it is. She's does whatever she can to get away from them, only answers with short replies to the point Bucky can't take it anymore.

"Sweetheart," Bucky tries again but she doesn't acknowledge him, eyes stayed glued to the book. He gets fed up, metal plates click as artificial appendages run over the binding and pull it from her grasp.

"Give it back, James."

He cringes at the name, a displeased frown wears his face. "No, you have to talk to us."

"No."

"You're bring a brat." Bucky starts, watching her expression change from annoyed to anger, wrinkles of frustration pinch between her eyebrows.

"Buck - don't say that to her." Steve comments, it's his fault, he's the one who said yes without confiding in her first.

"She is, it's over with now. She has no right to be this mad."

"No right?" Her chest fills with emotion as a humourless chuckle causes both men to stiffen. "No right? Huh Buck? I sat here for two full weeks, no communication, nothing while the two of you are out there fighting God knows what after you swore, promised you would always be with me. Don't promise me forever if you're just going to throw yourself in danger! You're going to die and leave me, or worse! Both of you will."

No one says a word, only watch as her chest rises and falls with deep, heavy pants despite the tears that rolls past her eyes lashes.

"Honey, I'm sorry -."

"I don't want to hear it James, and you." She turns towards Steve, fire in her soul. "I thought you would understand, more then him, considering it has happened to you."

She leaves the room without another word, Buck turns towards Steve, watching the way he fights the tears that gather. The pain of loosing Bucky is still so fresh, "She's right Buck, we fucked up."

"I know, I know." He mumbles into Steve's shoulder, pulling him close.

***

"You're so good to me, sweet girl." Bucky moans as she shifts her hips against him, the blunt end of his cock hitting the spot inside her that makes her squeal for more.

Large hands squeeze her hips as Steve leans over to find his boyfriend's lips, kissing him through the gasps and whines of their girl's name as she circles her hips around Bucky.

Steve's hands pull at his hair, lips trailing from his lips, down his cheeks before nipping at his jaw.

"How does he feel honey?"

"So good, Stevie." For a second he's in a trance, watching the way her face contours with pleasure and the pain of her third orgasm well on its way.

Steve lays next to Buck, hand wrapping around his own heaviness between his legs as he stokes it, switching between her face of pleasure to Bucky's, who bites his lip to suppress a moan.

It's short lived as hips stutter against her own, coating her walls with his warm cum.

Steve barely gives her time to recover, positioning her on his hands and knees before hovering over her ear and nibbling on it. "My turn, honey."

***

Her hands nervously shake, the kitchen table is all set up, dinner is ready but at the moment she doesn't have an appetite.

Between this morning sickness, the overall change her body is under going, food makes her sick. The opening of the front door makes her sit up straight, sucking in a deep breath.

Two voices conversationing in the hall, "I thought I said for you to lock the door when we leave." Buck is clearly annoyed, it's been a long day but Steve rubs his shoulders, mumbling something incoherent.

Upon entering the kitchen, they both grow worried. Face drained of color, red blotchy eyes with shaky hands.

"Hey, hey." Steve drops to his knees in front of her seat in an instant, hands curling around her wrist as worried steel blue eyes follow his stance, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "What is it? What happened?"

"I'm pregnant." She pauses, "I'm scared, I'm scared. What if someone comes for you? How are we supposed to raise a baby? What if it has the serum, will it ever be safe?"

The questions fill Bucky with dread, how much though put into every sentence, every word is like a new hit of pain to his body but he stays strong. For his girl, he leans forward, wiping the tears away from discolored cheeks. "Everything is going to be fine babydoll, you're going to be fine, our baby is going to be fine."

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #fatws bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve x bucky #steve x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stucky x reader #stucky

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ooffies · 3 years

Text

ᴋᴀᴇʏᴀ, ᴄʜɪʟᴅᴇ, ᴠᴇɴᴛɪ, xɪᴀᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʙᴇᴅᴏ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ (ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀꜱ)

characters x gn!reader, modern AU

a/n: this wasn’t edited/proof read so I apologize if there are any errors

warnings: none

requested by no one

tagging @genshin-obsessed (heyyy pocket lmao- 🍷❤)

Tip jar

Kaeya → the cool dad

He’s a very chill parent (pun intended)

Has rules but is very loose with them

Just cause he’s the cool parent doesn’t mean he’s not strict at times (he can be very strict if needed)

He’s a very affectionate and doting parent, always showering the kids with love and hugs

Spoils both you and the kids, he can’t help it cause he just loves you guys so much

All of your kid’s friends call him dad and constantly say they wish they had a cool dad like Kaeya

Always willing to drive the kids somewhere or take them out for a day if you need a break

He still makes sure you two get alone time together and takes you on dates frequently

Sneaks kisses whenever he can. A peck on your cheek or your lips, he also loves seeing your reaction to his surprise kiss

Family game night is a tradition for your family and Kaeya is the king of losing on purpose to make is kids smile

He absolutely loved playing with kids when they were younger and you still often find them playing fighting in the backyard when they come to visit

He really tries to be the best father he can and sometimes puts way to much pressure on himself

Loves styling the kid’s hair and will let them play with his hair. Sometimes you'll walk downstairs and be greeted by Kaeya with a head full of bows, hair clips and mini ponytails.

Whenever the kids would have nightmares he’d go into their room and fight the “nightmare” monster. He’d come out of the room 3 minutes later and tell the kids he beat it with his super awesome sword skills

Childe → the tries too hard to be hip and trendy with kids dad

First off he is a very doting dad, he loves his children so much and calls them his precious babies and often says he cannot live without them

He’s very much a *ahem* malewife *AHEM* (don’t try to change my mind, it will not change no matter what you say). Even though he’s hella rich he wants to spend all the time he can with his kids.

He cooks, cleans, packs the kid’s lunches in the morning and makes sure to give you a kiss whenever you return home from work and say “How was your day at work babe?”

He really, and I mean really, tries to be cool with kids. Spends time looking into “the latest and hip’ trends that all the kids are hopping on. They thought he was the coolest when they were younger but now they call him cringe and say he’s trying too hard and that he’s cool just the way he is.

It broke his old man's heart when they said it to him the first time and he cried for 30 minutes straight, you made them apologize to him even though you know they meant no ill intentions. Now calling him cringe is a family joke :)

Encourages the kids to learn something that will “help them wins fights and emerge victorious from all the battles they fight”

You put a quick stop to that and told the kids that they can do any activities they want

He’s still very supportive of what they choose to do and will always be their number one supporter

He’s a big cuddler and often initiates family cuddle piles.

Venti → wine dad

Chill dad #2. He wants his kids to be free and be who they are. You still set some basic ground rules for them.

Very doting and affectionate and will always give you and the kids all his love

Stopped drinking as much when they kids were born/adopted

He acts like a wine aunt (hence wine dad)

LOVES reading the kids bedtime stories but this also became a family activity since you’d always accompany him. He’ll also sing them lullabies and he’ll sing you lullabies every night too

Even when your kids are older he’ll still read them stories and sing to them.

Doesn’t really like to do household chores but he’ll do them for you (He will complain though)

He does enjoy cook though and likes to help make dinner for special occasions/holidays

He will teach his kids how to play instruments and sing. He won’t force them into it but wants them to at least try it

Get’s pouty if the kids get taller him and will tell them to stop growing or he’s gonna steal their height

Another family tradition you guys have is weekend picnics. Venti usually chooses the location because he somehow finds all the prettiest places in town. He would tell the kids it was his magic talent when they were younger.

Encourages the kids to go to summer camp so they can “build unforgettable memories and be closer to nature. (But really he just wants to have some alone time with you)

Xiao → the emo dad

On the outside he seems cold and very un-affectionate but oh boy he’s quite the opposite

He’s willing to do anything for you and the kids because you guys are the most important things in the world to him

He’s also somewhat of a malewife too but it was completely his choice. He just wanted to take care of his family.

He doesn’t like it when you come home from work and start doing chores. He’ll force you to sit down and relax. He’ll say that he’s got everything under control and there no need for you to stress yourself over chores

The main way he shows you and the kids affection is through acts of service.

Like I said before he’ll do the majority of the household chores, the kids also have their few assigned chores (and you help out with chores if he lets you)

He’ll help the kids with their homework, make them lunch, read them bedtime stories, brush their hair for them, take care of them when they’re sick, ect.

Only shows a limited amount of affection in public. He’ll hold your hand and carry the kids but that’s about it

In private however he is willing to accept all the affection you and the kids give him

He often struggles helping his kids out when it comes to emotional problems/issues but he always does his best. He’s always there to a lend an ear

He’s not vocal about it or always showing it but he’s your guy’s number one supporter.

Evening walks after dinner is a family tradition you guys have had ever since the kids started walking.

When they were young he’d let them sit on shoulders and would give them piggyback rides

He can be very strict and overprotective sometimes but that’s just cause he wants the best for his kids

Albedo → the art dad

He may not be the best at giving affection but he is a very supportive and doting dad

He likes draws pictures for the kids, even when their older he still does because he said seeing their smile when he give his art to them is a very special and happy feeling that he never wants to go away

Helps out with household chores but absolutely despises mopping.

He’s always there to listen to the kids talk about their latest obsessions/interests

He’s not very good at comforting but he really does try too

Makes you guys take family photos every so he can paint them later

Teaches the kids about art and alchemy if they show interest in either

When they were young he used to make kid safe experiments for them

Road trips are a family tradition. Albedo enjoys them cause he gets to draw the pretty scenery and thinks it’s one of the best to to spend quality time with family

He wakes up like a mom so whenever the kids would wake him when they’d have a nightmare he’d get startled and almost launch himself out of bed with a high pitched screech

Encourages the kids to have playdates with their friends often (he actually just wants more alone time with you)

He’s also the type of parent that draws on the walls with the kids when he finds them doing it. And yes he doesn’t care if they’re using sharpie he’ll still join in. Yes you’ve scolded all them multiple times and no they never learn their lesson, Albedo too. He always promises that he’ll “clean” it up which results in most of the wall in the house being murals cause his “cleaning up” is just him painting over it.

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

nicknames

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: none to my knowledge, just a silly thought I strung out

Summary: the things we call each other are an intimate look into how we regard them

“Why do you call him Mandalorian?” Cara was never subtle with you. You had been friends with her for years, and you should’ve known she would notice something after only a few days of your traveling with the three of them.

Shrugging, you looked at her. “I never told you?” You’d completed a lot of tasks together, as a very well balanced pair. And honestly you’d become close quickly, so it surprised you that she didn’t know you inside and out yet.

“I just feel like nicknames are too affectionate. On my home planet they're…” you searched for the word, not wanting to offend her, “intimate? Soft, maybe?”

Cara's dark eyebrows drew together.

“Mando… it sounds like a word some use for ‘dumpling',” you laughed, and her confusion broke - she grinned at you. “Mandu,” you offered, trying to explain. The words were similar under your tongue, thus the core of your problem.

“I cannot walk around professionally and call a warrior I just met dumpling.” And she nodded, laughing along with you.

It was too ridiculous, too cute, and far too intimate. Even without the double meaning, you didn’t want to be overly familiar with the Mandalorian. After all, you would only be traveling with him a few more days, and you’d hardly talked.

The mission went smoothly, however, and you were surprised to find that they offered for you to continue to team up with them. Another set of skills was welcome, and another pair of eyes on the little child was even more so. Your resolve stuck, though. It just didn’t fit, to call him anything other than the title he had given you. And you liked him a bit too much to open that door for yourself.

Din Djarin knew there was something special about you from the very beginning. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, at first, but certainly he had been very aware.

You were interesting, for someone in his field. Not at all the large, muscular fighter that he was used to seeing. But also not a seedy assassin. He’d learned quickly that your skill set came primarily in observation. You had no need to manhandle or shove your way to your bounty, instead choosing to melt into the background and watch until you’d identified the perfect strategy.

It made the first week of the job so much easier, he was content with the idea that you would travel and work with them. But then:

“How did you even know that corridor was there?” Cara was clearly excited by your field work, too. She was hardly paying attention as she walked through his ship into the cockpit.

Shoulders rising slightly, you followed her. “Micro-glitch in the holo-projection shield. I’m sure the Mandalorian's helmet identified it too.” You looked at him.

You looked right at him.

Effortlessly, your eyes found his through the visor. You were smiling a little bit, unaware of his state of shock.

Din had been wearing this helmet long enough to be used to never truly making eye contact with people. Sometimes a person got it right at random, but he could feel the difference – they couldn’t tell. But here you were, your gaze in his casually, like there wasn’t a solid layer between you.

He shrugged, reminding himself to get it together. As you turned back to Cara, he felt like he could breathe again.

Din had heard stories, children’s tales, of catching your soulmate’s eyes across the cantina - or maybe a palace room?, and being drawn together by fate. They were ridiculous, of course, but the very idea that you could bring up the memory was more than jarring.

Still, surely this was a one time thing, and he could forget about it.

For the first few weeks, it seemed like he was right. You rarely directed your gaze in his direction, anyway, being very professional and what he could only assume was shy.

You were more than happy to help with the child sometimes, and you talked freely to Cara, but in his presence you were polite and quiet. All your tasks were completed with efficiency and you would often complete other’s just because of who you were as a person. Normally, this was ideal for him - useless chatter had never been something he was good at. He was more than occupied making sure something was not breaking or mysteriously floating away, or they weren’t in danger. When you offered him silence, he should have been content to do the same, and watch the stars race by.

But… well, Din wasn’t sure he liked that either. Certainly it was strange to feel seen by you, but it felt worse that he could be making you uncomfortable, particularly as his comrade. And the more and more your eyes met his, the more it became exciting, and if maybe he wanted you to be even more than that.

So how could he get more if you hardly ever talked to him? Din shook himself, feeling silly for having zoned out in these thoughts. After all, he didn’t really talk to you, either.

After two months traveling with this strange little group, you were more than settled.

It took no time at all: you had hung up a spare scrap of fabric and made a little room for yourself, and the team functioned like a well oiled machine.

You got up before anyone else, this particular day, and were happy to enjoy the quiet sounds of the Crest as you checked everything needed for the day.

“Good morning, Mandalorian,” you heard the weight of his footsteps through the quiet halls. You didn’t even need to turn around, focused on correcting the flight pattern of the ship.

He had not questioned the use of the full title, had hardly questioned you at all. Outside missions, you two had only had a couple of actual conversations which seemed at first to be just fine. But there was a small nagging in the corner of your mind. His armor and helmet made reading his behavior hard, but you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off between you two. His body language was … almost gentle with you, not the same as he was with the little one, but as if he was afraid you’d startle if he wasn’t.

Unbeknownst to you, he had grown to like the way you said Mandalorian. It rolled off your tongue, as if it really was his name, as if you liked to say it. Din had been increasingly nervous about making you feel uncomfortable, awkward in his efforts to learn about you enough to make you stay. The prospect of sharing pieces of himself with you had become an indulgent fantasy, if only he could figure out how to talk to you.

“Good morning,” you could hear the sleep at the edges of his voice, and the softness you’d learned to recognize.

You hummed for a moment, thinking, before adding, “Good morning too you, too, little one.” You were rewarded with a sleepy little noise, and you smiled as you finished your task before turning towards them both. Thank goodness the child was awake, and you hadn’t caused any problems. His wide eyes were staring at you from above his father's armored forearm, and you smiled. It was these moments you were reminded of mandu – he was being soft.

You looked up to the Mandalorian, half wanting to tell him, but he stiffened: his shoulders rising and back straightening. Biting your lip, you averted your gaze.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” you turned back towards the stars, letting him think in silence for a moment.

“No,” he said, and you both relaxed. Whatever it was between you was gone for now, and you sat together, listening to the child wake up fully and begin to babble. It occurred to you that maybe he relished these moments, the times in which there were no expectations weighing on his shoulders. You wanted to give him more of those, if possible, to thank him for accepting you into his fold. Besides that, you spent much of your work life manipulating people, and you certainly wanted to establish that you weren’t like that here.

“How did you do that?” his voice, clearer now, interrupted your thoughts.

“Do what?” the Mandalorian rarely initiated conversation with you and it caught you off guard.

“How do you know what… is happening? What is going to happen?” he tone was genuinely curious, and you had to think before you responded. Of course, he knew you mostly just took the time to be more observant, instead of throwing yourself in head first. That’s not what he was asking.

“People are the same wherever you go. The more you watch and the closer you listen, the easier they are to predict,” you said, trying to be both brief and candid. “I was almost no one where I come from. One day, I decided instead of hating that, to use it.”

A small, deep, thoughtful hum came from the helmet beside you.

Silence settled over you for awhile before he quietly begin to talk.

Din told you of his people, his creed, and for the very first time you felt as though you were actually getting to know him. It was nice, not being professional.

“Do you ever want to be seen?” the conclusion of his talking was another surprise for you. Of course, this man who had sworn not to have his face shown would wonder at your apparent comfort with it.

The question felt as if it was seeping into your mind as you pondered it. It occured to you that this conversation had made you ache to be seen by him.

“I think everyone wants that, in their own way,” you said, and as you finally turned towards him, he held your gaze and nodded.

For someone so smart, it was infuriating how you seemed to completely miss the way he was around you.

Din Djarin, a warrior, had finally mustered up the courage to ask you to help him with a bandage on his lower back. The gentle touches and soft brush of your skin against his were foreign, but wonderful.

Unfortunately for him, you had noticed his awkwardness and assumed it was your fault. Ever the problem solver, you’d found a piece of mirror and rigged some wire to hold cleaning pads. It effectively made it easy for him to patch himself up on his own – and ruined the chance for him to steal your touch.

His previous fear had been wrong – you were not soulmates across the room, instead comrades sharing the same space. You were not exactly story royalty, but in spite of that, he was still falling hopelessly for you.

The way you talked to people – who weren’t bounties – with care and kindness. How good you were at your job, and how nice you made their shared space. How you laughed and rolled with the punches that came with this lifestyle. Din had never met anyone quite like you, and beyond all reason, he wanted to know everything about you, share all of himself with you. But you were so clever and polite it made him want to bang his head against a wall.

He couldn’t stop trying though, to get closer to you. Previously, you and Cara had left him and the child occasionally for a personal missions, and it left his feeling strange the entire three days. When you came back his heart had felt light and he wanted desperately to hold onto that feeling.

It wasn’t the same, when Cara went out for the afternoon a day or two after the patch up incident. In fact, he quite enjoyed the jolt of excitement that came with a whole few hours of potential.

Din couldn’t finish his tasks fast enough, even putting the child down for an early nap before nervously setting out to find you.

As expected, you were settled in the common area, reading through articles on your upcoming bounty. He sat next to you, willing himself not to betray his heart with his behavior and scare you away.

He said your name, his blood pumping even before you met his eyes.

“Yes, Mandalorian?” he had no idea why he was so nervous. He’d rehearsed this moment in his mind, it had been aching to be brought to life.

“You… you can call me Din… Djarin.”

It was not exactly as planned.

You’re eyes, ever in his, were wide.

“Din Djarin,” you said it reverently, before saying, “I promise I will keep it safe.”

He held back a small groan. There you went again, being so considerate he was afraid you’d never actually use it.

The frustration overwhelmed him, filling him with boldness and he pressed into your space insistently.

“No,” he said, “Well, do, but use it, please. I cannot stand you calling me Mandalorian like nothing has changed since we first met. I trust you, use it.”

You were adorable, the fear of his confession was damped by how intoxicating it was to be close to you. His hands found you, turning your body in your seat so you were facing him, and settling on the tops of your shoulders. He gently tugged you into him, encouraged that you didn’t pull away, but relaxed into his touch.

“I don’t want to slip,” you said, your voice barely audible.

The forehead of his helmet was so close to yours, you could feel your breath bouncing off of the mask.

“Please,” he said, and it smashed through all the walls you had created.

“Din Djarin,” you said again, tasting it on your tongue. You felt metal above your eyebrows and realized your eyes had closed, savoring the intimacy of the moment. You didn’t open them, allowing your heart to beat at lightspeed, and the tingles radiating from his gloved hands flow through you.

He was being soft with you.

“What if we compromised?” you could hear the smile in your own voice, and he gave a rumbling hum. You wondered if he was as absorbed in this moment as you were, unable to think straight.

“Mandu,” you murmured.

He was silent for awhile, the only indication he heard you being his palms, which slid to where your shoulders curved into your neck.

You could almost hear him thinking.

“I don’t understand,” he finally said, nearly inaudible. Your hands had reached out for him, one wrapping around the armor on his forearm, the other in the soft fabric on the side of his neck. He was distracted, bliss clouding his brain.

“Dumpling,” you said, and if it were anyone else, he would have thrown you across the room. “When you are being my strong and capable leader, you will be Mandalorian,” you continued, unaware that your words and actions were making his whole body fill with warmth and pride. “When you are being yourself, at home with us, I will call you Mandu – it sounds enough like Mando that no one will know it’s because you are truly soft.” He found himself smiling, despite his embarrassment. For you, he was soft. “And I will call you Din when it is just us, and I can be with you as you are now.”

There was no question that these moments would come again. He had made you give in to reading him completely, without any personal doubts.

“Okay, cyar’ika.”

Taglist: @fangirl-316 @scribbledghost

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #maybe i don't know people #THIS is the one i teased about #its a mess but i like it

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filczi · 3 years

Text

IT STARTED WITH A KISS HOW DID WE END UP LIKE THIS.

AN: Before we start. I just want to quickly mention that this is my first story since 2019. It’s not perfect in any way - grammatically and stylistically - English is not my first language. I truly attempted my best to make it look good for a “reader's” eye so many times I honestly can’t look at this story anymore. I’m a perfectionist who spends hours crying fat tears over this while trying to edit it.

PLEASE LIKE & ENJOY < 3 send me a lil message what you think about my first child of many.

WARNING: I never completely watched “Defending Jacob” | age-gap between characters, slight 18+ content.you read at your own risk. Both Jacob and the reader are adults in this story. 6,5k words.

Happy early valentines day since I'm v sick at home < 3

He has a wife.

Surprisingly, this is the first thought of realization that your brain decided to process from all the things happening around you. The second your feet cross over the threshold of the most intimate looking living room that you ever had the chance to be inside. It feels like a fresh whiff of air or a train coming your way with all force - knocking out of you any sense of brain maturity you previously held.

The moment your eyes settle on him. He’s there. The head of the house. Just like you heard Jacob calling him playfully while you spend late evenings together, drinking instead of studying for upcoming exams. Always managing to comfort one another by telling outrageous family stories which happened over the weekend you’d spend apart with your own families.

Standing all the way back in the kitchen area, cornered by some individuals in important attire, engrossed in a vivid conversation that required a lot of hand gesticulations and insulting words. Unfazed statue of an attractive man whose beauty cannot be surpassed by anything you’d seen in this world. Propped against the edge of the kitchen counter behind him, nursing a bottle of what seems to be a beer in one of his hands, while he calmly observes the scene in front of him with a stoic expression.

You blink a couple of times, just making sure of the conviction you made that this man looks like he rather belongs in a movie scene or on the cover of the magazine not in depressing Newton, Massachusetts.

“Honey, come here for a moment. Jacob bought a guest.”

A lovely, nice wife.

You subconsciously add when the mature woman moved into your point of view, effectively making you lose your train of thought, you can still hear your best friend’s moans after his mom's affectionate attention.

“I’m Laurie, sweetheart.” she quickly introduces herself before her hands develop you in a tight welcoming hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laurie is a beautiful neat-looking woman, whose eyes spark with uncontrollable joy that Jacob already told you so much about, including the ways he could always make her forgive him for everything he managed to break as a child - or not. She’s giving you the idea of a perfect mother example, that kind of woman you’d like to become one day when you think about your own family, the one who always held her head high, no matter the obstacle she’s about to face on her way. The one giving warmth and light towards the family fire. That gives the warmest hugs of them all and cheeks so bright and sparkling as if she smiles like this all day.

“Mum’s a huger,” Jacob shrugged his shoulders at the look you gave him when his mother disappeared the second after promising to fetch something delicious for you after the long journey you both went through.

“And that's your--” you quickly pointed your head into the exterior of the house, trying to discretely indicate the place Jacob’s father was occupying. Not refusing yourself to cast another glance at the visionary man whose identity was still somewhat unknown, or you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

Please, don’t be his father...

“Head of the house,” Jacob jokes again, gently swaying on his feet visibly getting annoyed at something. He furrows his brows for a second before addressing you again “you know, lawyers never sleep, there’s always a cause worth fighting for.”

You nod your head in silent understanding, knowing how much Jacob went through when he was younger and how much his entire family paid for that.

“I’m going to be such a dick now, but I really have to pee,” Jacob complained under his breath before throwing a longing glance towards the stairs leading to the first floor of the house. You guessed that’s where the bathroom is. "mom will be back in a second and she’s going to show you the guest bedroom, just sit and ignore the legal gibberish coming from the kitchen.”

“But--” you instantly panicked. “please, don’t leave me here alone.”

“Relax, you’ll be fine here. He’s not going to eat you, he doesn’t even know someone else besides his friends is home that’s how into work he usually is.”

Sending you a reassuring look, your best friend quite literally rushed through the hall and up the stairs as if he was on fire.

It’s weird to finally be in the house you heard so much about from Jacob's stories. Where you can see everything by your own eyes, the place your best friend grew up in and had his first memories from - home.

“Girlfriend?” It seems like you can't breathe, as you hear a deep masculine voice at the side of your ear completely throwing you out of your thoughts,

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re my son’s girlfriend? It's your time to smile now, gently tipping your head back you let bubbles of amusement fill you,

“No, we’re friends. I thought Jacob told you, Mr. Barber that-”

“Andy.” the tall male corrected you instantly,

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s okay to call me Andy. I don’t care,” the broad man shrugged his shoulders at you.

You feel like your head is in the cloud and your ears are stuffed with cotton wool.

He has a wife,

“Alright.” You try to clear your throat before speaking again. “I thought Jacob told you-- his parents that he’s bringing a friend for a weekend.”

“Ah nice there, trying to avoid calling me by my name, I’ll give it to you.”

You didn’t even know you could flush crimson so easily, before you met Mr. Barber, or rather Andy no other men made you feel like this.

He was even more magnificent from up close as if it’s even achievable. Every detail of his face looked like it was fractured by God himself, who certainly put a lot of work into making such a masterpiece a living human being. Casting a shy glance at his pretty face, coated with a few days overgrowth beard that looked almost too scandalous to carry, to the way his broad shoulders moved with every breath he took, stretching the dress shirt he was currently wearing like painting on the canvas. Wide and big forearms looking like a superhuman in every definition of the word possible, to the way his hands spread, including the color of his creamy skin peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his white crispy shirt, and fingers...

God, his fingers.

Thick digits wrapped each by each around the same bottle of the beer you have seen him holding during the second you stepped your foot into his house. Ceremonially holding the neck of the bottle as if it's the prices thing in his possession right now.

“You know how boys are” the man in front of you shook his head before you realized.

“I’m so sorry I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Y/N”

The chuckle that seeped out of Andy’s chest could have you on your knees if he wasn’t your best friend’s father in any type. He shook his head at you, eyes squinting in hidden adoration as he took a step back before placing the already forgotten and empty bottle on some random shelf with pictures and materials on it.

“Alright little girl, have it your way then, I’m Andy Barber, so nice to meet the only female friend my son has,” there’s this certain nip in the tone of his voice that makes you believe you just discovered something new about your best friend’s father no-one else your age possibly had before.

You bit onto your tongue the second his hand developed around yours completely taking you off the guard, warmth scattered across your entire body, almost letting you let a mewl out of your own the second his skin tasted yours. Fingers wrapped across yours like it's a beautiful lover's symphony, and maybe you just imagined the way the surface of his fingers brushed delicately across the bone of your knuckles for a few times before he squeezed your hand again - successfully knocking the air out of your lungs this time.

He has a wife.

Your subconscious warns you urgently, striving to immediately destroy the idea of any incidents happening shortly before they even have the chance to push any roots into your brain, as you feel your head shutting out on you, you feel completely dumb the moment you finally got the chance to stand face to face with your best friend father.

He called me a little girl not even two seconds ago.

“I can show you the guest bedroom if you’d like to.”

You send a glance towards the expanse of the kitchen again, where a lot of mature men fought nevertheless with one another. It was hard to understand what everything was about as in the middle of common English terms law language appeared that you knew nothing about.

“Aren’t you working?” you asked sheepishly, nodding towards the group of a man with a lot of papers in their hands, “Jacob said you do that a lot--”

“So you talk about me with my son huh?” there’s that cheeky smile of his again.

“I-no.” you shake your head before squirming at the intensity of his gaze on you. “he was just talking about how hardworking you are Mr--Andy.”

Andy hums under his breath, giving you the idea that he’s definitely thinking about what you said before smiling under his breath for one insane second before coming back to being all serious again. He breaths out quietly, brushing the side of his beard with one of his hands before setting on a scowl on his beautiful features.

“I’m going to show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“But Mr. Barber, you don’t have to I don’t want to cause any trouble, you’re working.”

“Y/N, stop being a brat and come with me I'm not taking no for an answer, Laurie is already picking groceries from the store to make you nice filling dinner before bed so c’mon.”

“I thought your wife was just---”

Andy snickered under his breath before giving you a hand ahead giving you a silent sign to walk up the stairs ahead of him.

He wanted you to lead?

“That’s how Laurie is, you can’t expect anything from this woman.”

Turns out the guest bedroom you were supposed to spend a few of the next weeks in was nowhere near ready for anyone’s arrival. It looked a little bit neglected but nothing you couldn’t cope with. You insisted Mr. Barber that you can change the sheets of the bed yourself, and try to tidy up a little here and there but the man of the house insisted on helping you with everything you could have encountered on your way.

Firstly, you never expected him to change the bed sheet for you since you were completely capable of doing it yourself, but you couldn’t complain since you got the chance to see the way his muscles work underneath the dress shirt he was probably wearing all day already that looked a little bit maintained. but you couldn’t complain about the view for sure.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” he asked you since the only noise of the room was the ruffled sheets in his hands,

“Well.” you swayed shamelessly at the tops of your heels, not understanding why but being alone with him made you drop your shyness, “It’s nice to see a man knowing his way with things.”

The silence in this room was almost unendurable.

Did I fuck up?

“I know my way with things, yes.” he nodded his head in confirmation to your words.

“I live alone with my dad and I just can’t bear to look how much he despises to do it.”

He narrows his eyes at you in silent question,

“Changing the sheets I mean,” you laugh wholeheartedly at him before continuing “since I can remember it was my mom’s duty.”

“So now, you’re expected to do it for the rest of your life?” he rose his sharp eyebrow at you.

“I mean yeah I guess, it's not that hard,”

“But if you had a boyfriend or husband you’d do it for just as your mom did it for your father?”

“I wouldn’t mind my future husband to do it from time to time,” you mumbled under your breath, not being sure why imagining a man kindly similar to the man in front of you.

Andy hummed in understanding before throwing you the already prepared pillows.

"When a man is capable of doing household chores, he is also fully capable of taking care of you in any situation you want him to," Andy stated before pushing the corners of the bed sheet into the rightful position on the mattress.

“Take it as advice from a married man,” he grants you with a quick wink before finally moving away from your temporary bed.

Secondly. You wouldn't expect the sheets to smell a little musky and rather too expensive to be a laundry detergent from the grocery store down the street.

The subtle yet overpowering scent that wasn't belonging to your best friend rooted into your brain but still, that didn't stop you from nuzzling into the comfortable fabric right after Mr. Andy left your bedroom a while later, before muttering:

“Dinner will be probably ready in two hours or so, take your time settling in. My bedroom is down the hall across the bathroom, Jacob’s room first door from the staircase, you got it sweetheart?” and when you let out an almost visible nod he left you with a little praise.

He called you a good girl.

It’s the delicious smell of food that manages to wake you up from your slumber. Abruptly pushing yourself up, making sure to correct the glasses that are falling from the bone of your nose to a straight position before glancing back at the screen and sighing in defeat at the lack of words you wrote for the past two days.

You thought about pushing some of your assignments and finishing them earlier before you and Jacob focus on the main paper that takes the most of the year credit. Your stomach grumbled, demanding to be properly fed, making you wince at the emptiness you felt before actually deciding on closing the barely started document - maybe, a good portion of food and an even better night of full sleep made everything better. You still had time to turn it up, you just had to make the best of it first,

Gently closing the lid of her laptop and throwing the device onto the plush covers of your temporary bed, that seemed to cry out for you whenever you looked back at it. Seeing all the velvet sheets and fuzzy pillows scattered across the mattress that smelled almost heavenly...

Stumbling through the threshold of the living room, as the delicious aroma of freshly prepared food completely overthrown your senses and stomach grumbled in need again as you see the prepared and decorated kitchen table,

You'd rarely used to eat properly since the day you moved out of your house. It’s a nice sight to see when there are no left-over packages of pizza or overused glasses of alcohol from when your dad used to have a little too much on Friday nights.

There are four pieces of dinnerware set on the table and you’re not even sure how Jacob's parents were in possession of such things since family dinner wasn’t a normal thing for them.

Scrunching your eyes at the scene in front of you as if the overly decorated table burned your eyes you stepped past it and towards the kitchen,

“Hope you don’t mind--” You hear the voice from the other side of the kitchen, looking into the direction from the voice of your roommate comes in you the half-part of your friend sticking out of the cabinet, still looking for something to prepare. “It’s spaghetti night.”

“Hmm, fancy.” you joke under your breath as Jacob's head extends from the hidden place to look at you. “where’s your mom I thought she was the head of kitchen space?” you responded before scooping some drained pasta from the bowl right beside the sink before the Chef noticed.

Eyes wondering over the prepared food as the dark-haired boy moved to season his special version of tomato sauce,

“Stop picking,” he grumbled before taking a ragged breath in, “they've had a fight again, and now dad left somewhere I don’t know if he’s going to attend dinner.”

“Oh I'm sorry, I thought your parents... you know... I love your mom. They look like a happy family.”

Jacob immediately snickered under his breath before pushing the wooden spoon mindlessly onto the counter. “Mom and dad are currently in separation, this whole family gathering was made for you so you’d think we’re a normal family.”

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, and this time you weren't sure if it’s because you’re still hungry.

“Jacob I’m so sorry--” you whispered quietly, thoughts neglecting you for your individual family issues or what was left from it, “If you want we can go back--fuck, I can drive back--”

Jacob's eyes narrowed curiously at something behind you before he shook his head and spoke again, “can you put it on the table?”

The intense clutter of feet makes your eyes twitch and you’re definitely trying to be on your best behavior and stay as quiet as it’s only possible as the loud ramble goes off in the corridor and right after the front door snap shut behind him and the voices go through every single corner of the spacious house, you know it’s already over for you. Because there he is - tall, with his figure a little bit more taken care of since the last time you’d seen him, looking a little bit more like a husband, with his hair styled in a way that suits him a little more than you’d expect as his head lacks those fuzzy curls you remembered so well from few houses before.

He definitely took a shower,

Pushing your bottom lip out quietly studying him from your place at the table,

With Jacob's mom immediately switching into the “host” mode, still trying to keep up the appearance of the perfect family, ushering Mr. Andy inside the living room, urging him to finally sit down at the table and devour delicious dinner.

He’s nice and polite, you note from the first minute of the genuine conversation with his wife? hold with him, as he seems to be listening to every word that leaves his lips and joking around with your best friend trying to ease on the nervous atmosphere because he knows it too - how tense the situation around the table changed.

Does he know that Jacob told you everything?

“Mr. Barber” you acknowledged him when he finally took the place at the table, with a big smile on his face he took the place to sit right beside you – what are the fucking odds. You thought to yourself. dressed up nice, in a stripe button-up shirt, with a few top buttons free, as you notice the black jeans that seem to fit his figure incredibly well - too well for your liking.

That little smirk at the corners of his mouth makes your eyes twitch with annoyance in such an easy way to make you annoyed already. His green eyes are observing you and he's fully taking his time to run his eyes all over the top of your figure, noticing a fitting white top, that suddenly felt too tight on you.

Throughout dinner, he never backed down his look towards you, and the worst part of it, you could feel the burden and heat of his eyes against the profile of your face during the entire feast, completely losing the rest of your appetite not even halfway through the dinner, and now aimlessly played up with your fork and the pasta rolled up onto the cutlery before pushing it back against the plate.

Perching your head up with the help of your hand you listened to the excited conversation that was held against the table, only to let it out the second after through the other ear.

Mr. Andy pushed his legs to the side of his chair, his front coming towards your side as his long forearms dropped over the side of your chair. You're not sure if he did it on purpose but from time to time you could feel the pads of his fingers brushing through the baby hairs on your neck, the locks you had formed every time you skipped a hair day and just decided to keep them up to stop bothering you as you took your nap. And every time the knuckle of his hand touched something of yours the sudden shiver rushed through your body making you squirm in your seat and ultimately lost the last attempts of gaining back the courage to finish dinner,

Then, there’s a sudden and completely unexpected question making you completely freeze in your spot. “So, how're the studies going Y/N?”

You're immediately thrown out of your thoughts at the sound of Mrs. Barber's voice, then the sudden silence appeared and you knew everyone was listening and looking at you right now. Cringing to yourself in your mind, you perched yourself more comfortably on your chair, keeping in mind to keep your back straight and not lean against the back of it.

“Pretty good” your voice came out more croaky as you'd want to, gently couching down the bile formed in your throat, you pushed your plate out of the way, to reach for the half-empty glass of red wine.

Before taking a small sip, “lot's of assignments” you shrugged your shoulders yearning for the red nectar. You'd hope it's gonna help you find the sleep you need and new power for the morning to start finished the pointless papers for your professor.

“Y/N has been working day and night on her term papers, she wants to be on top of her class grade.”

From the side of your eye, you could see a movement on your right side before Mr.Barber leaned a little bit forward in his seat as if trying to do it “unintentionally”

“So, you’re an ambitious girl huh?” The heat of his breath and the tone of his voice makes your posture stiffen like a new repaired spring, he murmured it in such a way as if he was talking to his lover right before going down to devour the last bits of her, his hand perched itself on the edge of your seat, gently gripping onto the white decorating pillows Mrs. Barber spends a fortune on because in her option they perfectly matched with the curtains in the living room, the heat of his hand that’s coming onto the side of your legs makes you instantly push it away in a jerking motion, away from the sudden and completely unexpected heat.

“You could say that” you whispered back to him, not even taking your mouth out of your wine glass, lips gently brushing over the bitter liquid when he openly laughed, his chest brushing against your sleeveless arm making you lean away from him but before that Andy innocently threw his arms across yours and shoved you against the heat of his chest trying to make it look as if both of you are just joking around like good old friends you’re definitely shouldn’t be.

He tuts under his breath, “I love to push your buttons, you're so easy to work up, It's almost funny.” before his fingers ghosted over the side of your collarbones as if he was taking in what's in front of him, taking his time to memorize every aspect of her with his eyes.

Biting your tongue to the point where it could bleed when Mrs. Barber looks at you with such a smile you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to do.

“What's wrong? You're not hungry?”

Oh, I am. But the dish I want was not offered in the menu.

“No, everything is fine I just have to use the bathroom really quick, if you excuse me.” You quickly stood up from your place,

“Remember that you’re cleaning after dinner,” Jacob called out after you before he proposed another glass of wine for his mother awaiting glass.

“Jacob! Y/N is our guest, don’t treat--”

“It’s completely fine Mrs.Barber, it’s a tradition of ours” you waved her hand in the air before letting him know that you still remember their deal before you muster one last glance towards the dark-haired man, who’s still looking at you with a slight grin on his gorgeous face.

Your fingers are tightly gripping onto the edges of white porcelain sink as the cold droplets of waters cover her skin in different directions you’re gazing at her reflection in the mirror, with a scowl because of how stupid you could he be to let him get under your skin already on the first night.

You hear the dinner is still lasting as its best as the sudden and happy cheers reflects through the exterior of the walls and you can’t help but feel your heart tings a little because you know how much you could give to spend time with your own father. You considered yourself a bad friend, Jacob was the opposite, the bubbly exterior of her friend sometimes coming off on her but she preferred a silent house, silent night in, with a bag of chips and glass of wine at her lap and maybe if the landlord of their apartment building would let them, she would have a cat by her side too.

The sudden knock at the wooden material of the door has your head spinning, you’re not sure if you want to talk with Jacob. You knew you promised to be on your best behavior but knowing that Andy is constantly playing with you just for his humor is making your blood boil – you’re letting him do this all because of how off guard he caught you.

“It's taken” you called out grumpily, pushing the material of the towel against your face to rains it from the water but the knocking didn't stop there.

“What the fuck?” you grumbled again, irritation coming out of you in waves, “do you seriously can't hold it for two more minutes?” you tugged at the door handle with such a force and swing the doors open only to see someone you least expected.

“Do you mind?” you asked sarcastically, noticing the hold he still had on the white exterior, his palm was big, she took notice about his fingers, wide and they probably hold a lot of power in them.

Not that you cared.

“Laurie told Jacob to check up on you since you're taking so long--” he aimlessly told her, standing in the exterior of the room completely blocking the lights from the corridor

“How nice of you,” you mustered with a sweet fake smile to form on your lips, noticing how much he hated when you did that, his jaw immediately ticked, with a vein coming out at the side of his throat and his teeth tensed together.

“Stop being such a brat.”

You shockingly rose your eyebrows at him. “Excuse me? Repeat that?” You dared.

Andy chuckled under his breath, fingers pushing against the door to open them even wider before he moved his feet a little forward coming into the room with you, his eyes narrowing and face coming dangerously close.

The dark dimension of his green eyes made your stomach churn with something you couldn’t even name. This guy was making you so confused.

“You heard me.” he grumbled, voice low and gratingly with something else, “you're acting like a fucking brat.” he spats out the last words as her back got shoved against the bathroom wall, right beside the towel cabinet.

Your mouth opened in shock.

“How dare you run your mouth on me,” you growled out, fingers coming to tip onto his chest, aimlessly pointing at the bare skin. “your wife and son are downstairs and you already have the audacity to---”

Andy shook his head, fingers shifting onto her forearms to turn her back flat against the wall before taking a step ahead, his chest completely flush against yours as your breathing quickened due to his proximity. “Shut up--” he ordered and to her surprise you instantly did.

He immediately picked her behavior up, “Hmm-” his nose skimmed the side of her jaw and she could swear her toes curled when his cologne overwhelmed her senses. “just as I've said. Good girl.”

You could swear to God, your heartbeat was about to rip out of your chest, and it was almost embarrassing. You were sure Andy could hear it beating due to how close she was.

Your mouth opened in a sudden urge to let out a puff of air when his tongue skimmed out of his lips to taste the sweetness of your skin. The gentleness and skill he operated with had your brain turning into mush,

“M' sorry.” he whispered into the hollow of your neck, taking a deep breath of you “couldn't help myself with you.” and then his tongue runs against the stripe of your throat towards your jaw, and you could swear that your legs are giving out under the weight of them.

“Oh my god--” you’re almost squealing to yourself when the rough palms of his hands push against her shoulder blades you’re able to feel every part of him on yourself, or maybe every part of you on him, it's like you got turned into one. The hotness that’s building inside and in every place his hands keep touching.

“Mr.Barber--- what are you--” and then you’re gasping, as his teeth grasp onto the edge of your lips pulling the flesh back only to completely get lost into the feeling of the plump sweetness of your taste. You let him in, eagerly waiting for his tongue to battle with yours in soft dominance, as his hands wander over her whole. They knead every flesh on his way, he's taking everything you have in offer for him. igniting inside of her the fire she never knew she possessed.

“It’s Andy, doll.”

Breathless – both of you – as he lets you take a time to breathe, fingers skimming along the side of your calloused cheekbones,pads of his fingers tracing the reddened skin of your lips and he can't help but smile when he observes your chest moving in need for air and eyes wild and ready for everything.

“Please.” neither of you were expecting the word to come out your mouth, it shocks you but it's there, let out into the silence of the bathroom. You don't want to take it but and you damn hope he won't turn away from you.

“What my doll wants, hmm?” Andy muttered under his nose, you had to take a second to rethink what he said was even real and it wasn't a figment of your imagination, “you want daddy to touch you? You’re going to be my good girl?” he cooed calmly, before letting his hands drop from your body, leaving you cold and needy.

What?

He's sending you one last look, his mouth quirks in humor when he notices how displeased and angry you can be in a second. Before he turns away from you and heads right towards the door.

You act before you think, and there’s something inside of you that is screaming at you by doing such a thing but your hands grip his massive arm in panic, tugging him back to face you again. His eyebrows rising in silent question before you take courage to mutter

“Please.” you’re whining like a lost puppy, gently carding his hand in yours and tugging him back to your previous position. As your eyes continue to shine with need.

Andy’s furrows his brows for a moment, head-turning, and if you didn't know him before that way, you’d say he looks like a damn cute, confused puppy. “You want daddy’s fingers?”

Biting the corner of your lips your not even sure if you’re able to say it out loud, You love how rough he looks now, giving you a different side of his physique you never gets a chance to see before. You’re wriggling under his stare, not feeling comfortable at all. The silver wedding band on his fingers is tempting you, you can’t help but imagine how would it feel inside of you, how the whole idea of getting a married man to touch you entice you.

A few hours ago you absolutely treated him like your best friend's father and now you’re willing to push even further? Were you ready to look at him from a different angle? Are you ready to risk years of friendship over a married man?

You swallowed quietly as Andy still looked at you expecting the answer, his knuckles gently grazing over the naked skin on her arm, turning it downwards to til he touched outside of her wrists making her brain turn into a mush.

“You know what---fuck you,” you grumbled annoyed, finally coming back into your senses but that's not what Andy was expecting. You hurried away from him, making sure to keep a distance in between both of you before looking him straight in the eyes, a silent challenge for him to take. “don't you ever touch me again,” you scowled before pushing a finger into his direction, trying to threaten him enough

He pushed the air out of his lungs painfully slow, too slow for her liking because you had a feeling something was building inside that he was about to let out on her. “You were doing so good--” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and turning his back to you and marching towards the door, and when you thought he's about to leave you observed the way his palm pushed against them making sure they're closed before his fingers cleverly turned the lock closed with a sudden click

Your stomach immediately churned in excitement you didn't even know you should feel the moment he leaned his broad shoulders against them. Crossing his large arms across his chest he spends a good second just observing you from when he stood.

“Acting like the brat you are,” he clicked his tongue at you, and arrogant behavior coming out immediately, he acted like a boy whenever he didn't get what he wanted, and you got the first example of it. “since the first minute you-” he shook his head as if his memories of their unsuccessful first meeting flowed his memory

“Maybe you should make up your fucking mind--” you then threw your hands up annoyingly, “calling me a good girl only to change it to brat the second later. Is that some kind of kink of yours?”

Andy chuckled under his breath, his eyes squinting in hidden adoration for you before his entire posture changed immediately.

“Better watch your fucking mouth,” he hissed at her, “because I'm sure you won't like the consequences.”

You narrow your eyes at him subconsciously screaming at yourself to bit onto your tongue before speaking but it’s too late, your change of posture challenges him, you see it in the way he curses under his breath before all you see is him charging upon you.

Fingers digging into your jeans, as you gasp in shock the second you feel your jeans loosening on your body, the stoic expression of the man in front of you is enough for you to fumble with your tongue, knowing in the back of your mind the apology words you know but it’s too late. Thick digit, you feel it coming down the front of your pants, marching through the material of your panties without not even a fumble, you feel his skin on your skin playing with your fold and you swear your knees are giving up on you the second he finds his right place in between your legs - you look down on him, mouth opened in shock by the sudden situation, his entire fist pulled down inside your pants making it as his job to destroy you.

“Oh my Go--” you squeal as a warm finger push into the right place between your folds, sliding in without harm as you close your eyes in embarrassment at how wet you are for him.

Andy’s breath palms upon your face, he’s thrusting his body onto yours gently muttering sweet sugar-coated praises toward you but all you can hear is the blood that finally reaches your ears.

“Please don’t make me come for the first time in your wife’s bathroom” you whine through the pleasure that’s completely taking over your senses. You’d still plead to him, hands grabbing onto the one that’s been working on your pussy with such a precision you feel like crumbling out into a creme in his home bathroom. While he supports his entire body weight on the tiles behind your curled up from bliss body.

Andy just chuckles into your hair, granting you with a quick kiss to your sweaty forehead before circling his finger harder onto your clit, just as a loud moan escapes your lips. Andy tugs his fingers out of your pussy, your entire body is tingling, stomach churned into much when he holds your entire weight before you can tumble to the ground.

And then within a blink of her eyes, he sends her one last look as if saying “it's not over” and turns around again catching a glance over the worked up muscles on his back moving with every step of his silhouette when he yanks the door open and marches down the corridor as if nothing had happened.

It takes you some time to understand what's happening, as the place falls into complete tranquility but the sparkles in the air, are telling you that nothing you’d seen and heard tonight was imagined – even when you really want to believe it.

Hearing the pad of his heavy feet stops against the wooden floor before his voice tells and assure your best friend and his wife that everything is alright with you.

But was it? Now when you think about it, that you have to spend the rest of the weekend break with the guy who’s your best friend's father who just fingered you for a few minutes with you in his own bathroom.

And it was only beginning.

The wrong never felt so right.

an2: send me a lil’ message what u think of this < 3

Jacob, after finding out his best friend is fucking his father:

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber smut #andy barber one shot #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #filczi #it started with a kiss series #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill smut

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