#glass onion x y/n
Note
Hi!!!! It's me again,🦁 Anon. I just looked at Glass onion and can I ask for a request for whiskey x reader. The reader was relaxing in the pool with others, and the moment whiskey comes out of the pool, the Reader literally froze and stared at her. The others started joking or making a remark about it until the Reader took Whiskey's hand and dragged her to her room because the Reader got excited.
Can the end be cute and fluffy?
Thank you very much!!!🥺
Speechless
Whiskey x Fem!Cody!Reader
Summary: Your girlfriend is gorgeous, and never fails to make you speechless.
Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff
Word Count: 759
navigation misc. masterlist
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When you, your brother, and your girlfriend were invited to Miles Bron’s weekend getaway/murder mystery party, you knew you were in for a treat. Miles never failed to astonish, so arriving at his private island housing his massive complex, you couldn’t say you were surprised.
Miles was an eccentric person, so of course the rooms were assigned based off of chakra. You bid your brother and your girlfriend goodbye, and headed towards your room to get ready for the pool.
You throw on some swim trunks, a bikini top, and a hawaiian shirt to wear over it. You check yourself over, seeing that you look good, and head down to the pool to meet up with your friends.
Making your way down, you see Lionel and Claire already on the side having a conversation. You approach them, and they greet you warmly.
“Y/N Cody, as I live and breathe! We didn’t have much time to catch up. How is everything? How’re you and Whiskey?” Claire inquires. You go to answer, but are interrupted by Birdie making her grand entrance.
“Guys. Lionel and Y/N, you guys are too hot to be scientists. And Claire, you look so cute.” You glance over at Lionel, and then you see Claire flipping Birdie off, making you laugh.
“You just gave Bird the bird, Claire-bear.” You exclaim, making Lionel laugh along with you. Claire then glares at you, hating the nickname you had assigned to her. Everyone in your group had a nickname that you had given them, which you always called them.
Claire is Claire-bear, Birdie is Bird, Lionel is Lion, Duke is Dick, Miles is My-My, Peg is Peggy, and Andi is… well, was Cassie.
While in your own head about Andi, you tune out Birdie and Claire bickering. You finally tune back in when Claire re-asks you the questions from before. “Oh! Y/N, answer the questions from before Birdie interrupted. How is everything? How’re you and Whiskey?”
You smile at the woman, and respond, “Things are good! Lion and I have been absolutely stacked at work, but you know how Miles is. Me and Whiskey are doing amazing.”
Lionel then looks around for your girlfriend. When he doesn’t spot her, he inquires, “Where is your girl, anyway?” You then look around, also not spotting her. You open your mouth to say something, but a clearly not listening Birdie interrupts again.
“God and no masks I can breathe again. Look at this pool, maybe I'll go for a swim.” As soon as she finishes her sentence, your gorgeous girlfriend breaks through the surface of the water gracefully. Your jaw drops, your eyes widen, and you turn bright red.
Lionel and Claire quickly take note of this, and immediately begin teasing you. “Hey, Y/N. You’ve got some drool right there.” Lionel puts his finger on your chin. You immediately slap his hand away, not taking your eyes off of your girlfriend.
Claire calls out to Whiskey, shouting, “Hey Whiskey! I think you broke your girlfriend!” Whiskey glances over at you, smirking at the expression on your face.
“Baby, you okay?” She asks. You say something intelligent like ‘Uh- mhm- yep- so good.’ She laughs and swims towards the stairs leading out of the pool. You quickly get up, not bothering to bid your friends goodbye. You know they won’t mind.
As soon as you make it to where your girlfriend is standing, you grab her hand, yank her out of the pool, and pick her up bridal style before running to your room. She laughs joyfully, and wraps her arms around your neck.
---
Once you reach your shared suite, you shift her so that she is pressed between you and the door. You kissed her intensely, and quickly started to trail them down her neck. You heard her let out a breathy laugh and felt the vibrations in her throat when she asked, “What’s gotten into you, babe?”
You pull back and put your foreheads together, smiling at the woman you loved. “It just always amazes me how you seem to get prettier and prettier every time I look at you.”
Whiskey blushes at that, and pecks your lips again before hopping down from your arms. She grabs your hand and pulls you down onto the bed, making you let out a yelp of surprise. She quickly climbs on top of you. Cuddling into your chest.
You couldn’t be happier than in this moment, on this island, with the people you love. If only you knew how fast it would go to shit.
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#whiskey x reader#whiskey x y/n#whiskey x you#whiskey fluff#duke cody x reader#duke cody x you#duke cody x y/n#glass onion x reader#glass onion x you#glass onion x y/n#gass onion#knives out#whiskey#duke cody#🦁 anon#glass onion: a knives out mystery#whiskey imagine#duke cody imagine#glass onion imagine#knives out imagine
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𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭 || 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
IMPORTANT! This fic was written with ONLY Knives Out as it’s source material, I haven’t yet seen Glass Onion. I have since been made aware 1000+ words into this fic that Benoit is gay as of the second film. I didn’t want what I had to go to waste. This is the only time I will write for him in a m x f relationship.
Summary: You introduce Private Investigator Benoit to Cluedo
Word Count: 3.1K
CW: FEMALE READER. Please see explanation above. sassy Benoit. Vague references to a mild age gap relationship, easter egg references to Knives Out film 🤭 Nylon Kink. A bit of knife play. Oral, f receiving.
Tease: “On the contrary,” he answers you with a playful lilt to his drawl, slowly sinking to his knees before you, “I intend to stay right here.”
“You’ve never played Cluedo?!”
Shock permeates each syllable of your parroted sentence, your jaw slack as you stare at your partner with complete incredulity. Benoit, in turn, peers vacantly at you like you’ve said something ridiculously dense.
“Ain’t that what I just said?” He asks you, his monotonous voice lacking any true irritation as he taps the ashes of his cigar into the ashtray on the coffee table between you.
“Nah, we’ve gotta fix that,” you insist, slapping your palms on your knees before raising from your armchair. Benoit peers over the rim of his tortoiseshell glasses, and his icy-blue eyes follow your body across the room.
“Now— Dear, you’ve worked a long shift; you can’t be runnin’ around playin’ detective with me,” he tries to reason with you, attempts to talk you down from the inevitable shitshow that was no doubt about to unfold in the shape of solution cards and miniature murder weapon props. It’s all fruitless, though, because you’re sweeping aside Benoit’s beloved ashtray and ignoring his protestations as you drop the board game’s box onto the coffee table.
Yes, you’d slogged a nine-hour shift and hadn’t had time to change into less formal attire. Your pencil skirt bunches up your thighs, and the button-down blouse collar lies taut against your throat. Hell, your nude tights are beginning to itch too, but you’re far too invested in this ridiculous adventure and refuse to turn back at the sound of Benoit’s listless objections.
“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself, sliding the lid off the cardboard box and electing to ignore the heavy sigh that Benoit hopelessly attempts to conceal. He leans forward to put out his cigar in the ashtray you had unceremoniously discarded on the wooden floor, eyeing you as you set out the board game items and distribute each piece evenly.
“Who would you like to play as?” You ask, offering out the coloured tokens in your outstretched palm.
Benoit peers at each of the six shades of plastic pawn figurines, his expression betraying his evident discontent. “You know I do this for a livin’, don’t you, Dear?”
Your scowl in retaliation to his query has Benoit snatching up the green token from your hand and setting it on his end of the table. Again you smile as though he’d never spoken and choose red for yourself. Reverend Green and Miss Scarlett.
Carefully, you shuffle the weapon, suspect, and room card decks. Then, as discreetly as possible, take the top card from each pile and put them into the murder envelope without peeking at the details on the other side.
Finally, ignoring the obnoxious sighs rattling in Benoit’s chest, you hand out the Clue cards. Five cards each for you and Benoit, four apiece for the pair of ghost hands; purple and blue. You pinch the dice between your forefinger and thumb, holding it in front of your lover's face. “Odd for purple, even for blue. Got it?”
“Got it,” he responds, clearly finding the process tedious already but suffering through for you. Your eyes are alight with excitement, a grin permanently fixed on your lips. How was he to say no? In fact, he found himself amused by your enthusiasm to understand his line of work— even if it was through juvenile means.
“Alright!” You giggle, rolling the dice to move your scarlet pawn token forward. “Let’s begin!”
-✩-
Chimes sound from the mahogany grandfather clock situated in the corner of Benoit’s living room. They’re almost deafening in the silence that has befallen the coffee table. Although it feels like moments, you realise the minute hand has completed a revolution of the face of the timepiece — You’ve been playing for an hour. You’re no closer to identifying the killer than you were sixty minutes ago.
Benoit appears bored to tears, chain-smoking cigars and even leaves his seat at one point to obtain a glass of whiskey. To the amusement of both of you, you hadn’t noticed his absence, too wrapped up in the game to realise he’d gone AWOL.
“Now, Darlin’,” he begins, cutting both the stillness of the room and your acute concentration with his southern drawl. “Don’t you think it’s time we called it a night? It’s gettin’ awfully late—“
“Benoit,” you whine petulantly, noting the wince it earns you from the older man. He certainly looks like he’d acquired a few more silver hairs since you began this wretched game. “I want to finish it.”
“Mhmm…” Benoit pushes his spectacles up his nose, glancing over the board with mirth, “I knew a man who wouldn’t admit defeat in a board game. Know what happened?”
You glance up at him, eyebrow raised in question.
“He died.”
“Benoit!”
Exasperated, Benoit turns his black cards over, revealing his weapon, room and character. He raises his hands in defeat, settling back in his seat and officially ruling himself out of the game. “There, you only gotta look at two suspects… You're not much of a detective, are you?”
“You‘ve solved it already, haven’t you?!” You gasp, looking up at him with wide doe-eyes and dismay. He answers with a firm nod of his head. Perhaps it was foolish of you, but you really thought you’d established egalitarianism with a board game. “Well, go on, how did you know?”
Benoit inhales, opening his mouth to speak and finally put an end to this ridiculousness. “Well, now, I—“
“Wait!” you shout out, holding a hand up as though it would physically restrain the syllables of his deduction from leaving his lips. “I’ll figure it out myself!”
Sullenly, Benoit sinks back into his armchair, admitting defeat and allowing you to play out your inspector fantasy. He pouts for a few moments, watching you furiously exert your mind with the evidence before dragging his gaze over your uniform.
A quiet man, reticent in nature, Benoit rarely discussed his appreciation for your work apparel. Yes, the pencil skirt was lovely and hugged your body well, and the blouse accentuated your bodily aesthetics, but it was the tights that really captured his imagination.
In truth, Benoit was fascinated with your nylon wardrobe and could go so far as to say it was somewhat of a sexual preference. A kink. He enjoyed the sleek look they gave your legs, their shine underneath lights. Once, the feel of your stockings in his hand as he held your foot up to aid in fastening one of your heels had set him alight.
Gazing at your legs, folded over one another as you attempted to piece each clue together resentfully, Benoit felt heat rise under his collar. The nude tights you were wearing are perfect, sheen delicate beneath the faux-candelabra light fixtures. There’s not a tear, ladder or hole in sight.
He planned to amend that.
Benoit lifts himself from his seat, skirting the coffee table easily and approaching you with long strides. You momentarily glance up from the clue card in your hand, scowling to yourself as he advances. “So embarrassed with my detective work that you’re retreating to bed, Mr Blanc?”
“On the contrary,” he answers you with a playful lilt to his drawl, slowly sinking to his knees before you, “I intend to stay right here.”
Momentarily, your mind works like an old television with a crooked aerial antenna. Static fizzles between your synapses, and you cannot come up with a retort to Benoit’s cheeky inference.
“Best keep your mind on the case, detective,” he murmurs, palms settling on your ankles and tracing up the sides of your calves, “We wouldn’t want the killer gettin’ away now, would we?”
You swallow thickly, holding the cards with shaking hands as you feel Benoit place a lingering kiss on the inside of your knee. He skirts the tip of his nose up the inside of your thigh, humming softly as he squeezes the meat of your calves in his hands.
Focus. Focus. It couldn’t have been Benoit; he’s rescinded his cards. So, it was one of the Ghost Hands. Blue was suspicious, and you’d already discovered she was carrying a wrench. However, she had a decent alibi… Meanwhile, you had barely anything on Purple.
You roll the dice again, the face showing a two rather than the hand glass you had been hoping for. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to rake over the evidence, only to be interrupted by your vision swimming suddenly.
Benoit’s nose notches against your clit through your tights, his head practically buried beneath the fabric of your skirt. He groans softly, inhaling the scent of your sex. You whimper, the edges of his glasses pressing against the junction of your thigh as he presses a delicate kiss to your slit through your panties.
“Do me a favour, Dear,” he breathes against your thigh, pressing kisses to the nylon fabric. He doesn’t have to state what he wants from you explicitly. Fumbling with clumsy hands, you set the cards down quickly on the armrest and pull the hem of your skirt over your hips to give Benoit better access.
“Much obliged,” he whispers to you, and you can hear the gratuitous smirk playing on his lips. Attempting to ignore him and focus on the cards, you endeavour to read the clue, which is written in plain English. You haven’t yet fully deciphered it, thanks to Benoit’s tinkering.
He has other plans, though, nipping at your skin through the fabric of your tights. You jolt slightly with each bite he gives you, and you can hear him chuckle beneath you.
“Anythin’?” Benoit teases you with a combination of kisses and nibbles trailing up your thigh. It takes a moment for your answer to form on your tongue, toes curling in your heels.
“Mhm- N-Not yet,” you stumble over your words despite your attempt to conceal your evident appreciation for his affections.
“Hmm,” he hums, the rumble in his chest setting your hair on end as he, once again, presses lingering kisses over your panties. “I feel a noose tightenin’.”
Everything inside you freezes, and you’re quick to glance at the miniature weapon icons. The rope lays dead centre of the pile, and you’re forced to reconsider everything. Was Benoit giving you a hint?
Admittedly, you don’t have time to contemplate. As you open your mouth to question him, Benoit sucks on your clit through your panties. Your line of questioning dies in your throat, instead coming out as a strangled ‘Ahhh~’.
As quickly as he offers you the blissful sensation, he’s stealing it away. He pulls back, sitting on his haunches, and you’re blinking back your arousal to see him clearly. “W-Why did you…?”
Benoit hushes you gently with a wicked smile. “I think you should focus on the case.”
Smug bastard.
Filled with the desire for retribution, you cast your eyes back to the clue cards in your hand. They’re slightly creased now due to the tight grip you’re holding them with. You manage to make out the words ‘Name One…’ before a clicking sound pulls your attention away yet again.
The glint of light reflecting off the blade in his hand had your heart seizing. Not in fear, no, but exhilaration. See, Benoit carried the flip knife on his person always. It was less of a weapon for self-defence than a family heirloom, and Benoit never took it out without good reason. Simply asking to see it would not gain you access to the elusive dagger.
Your breath hitches, adrenaline buzzing down your spine.
“Now, hold still,” Benoit insists, impossibly blue eyes gazing up at your face through the lenses of his glasses. You nod quickly, both showing him you are listening and urging him forward with his plan.
You watch as he leans forward, slipping the knife's point into the nylon at your crotch. Utterly motionless, you whimper as your lover pulls the handle upwards and slices through the fragile material with ease.
“Been wantin’ you to keep these fine stockin’s on …” Benoit whispers against your thigh, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh there as he closes the knife with a click and slips it back into his pocket.
“H-Huh?” You tremble beneath his affections, his lips travelling further up the inside of your legs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
“Case, Detective,” he replies flatly, sliding the pad of his index finger against your slit through the cotton of your panties, “You’re deducin’ a murder weapon— it’s in plain sight.”
“Right,” you nod dumbly, swallowing back your arousal and glancing at the board. The box said the game was suitable for ages eight and up; surely it shouldn’t be this difficult. There had to be evidence you had overlooked. Your notes are settled on the coffee table, and you venture to decipher the evidence as you take up the booklet with trembling hands.
But then Benoit is hooking his finger inside the crotch of your panties, pulling the fabric to the side and exposing your sex. You almost drop the notepad on his head. “How ‘bout you take me through your notes, Dear Detective?”
You would, God, you absolutely would if you could. However, Benoit’s tongue drags against your slit, and your mind goes numb, buzzing as though it has a pins-and-needles sensation. He hums, amusement lilting his voice as he watches you struggle.
Overwhelmed, you completely forget about the game of Cluedo, tilting your head over the back of the chair and sliding your fingers through the greying man’s hair. The notebook falls from your hand, clattering against the wooden floor but you’re already too far gone to care.
Eager to please you further, Benoit is gripping your thighs, lifting them so they settle on his shoulders. The nylon tights rub against his neck this way, and you’re sure it spurs him on because he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit. It jolts your body forward, and that maddening chuckle sounds between your legs again.
“Now, Darlin’,” he croons, and you’re whining due to the lack of friction already, “You be careful. The killer’ll be gettin’ away.”
You choke on an apology, Benoit burying his face into your cunt and sucking at your clit keenly. He’s swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue, one, two, three times, and then dragging over the seam of your sex to lap up your slick.
Not only was the man eloquent, but he was also persuasive with his tongue. Trembling in your seat, you sob out as your muscles tense against it. Your legs twitch against the shoulders of his suit, and you arch your hips up to grind against his face.
“Detective,” he prompts you, and you suck in a breath like you’re coming up for air after being suspended in water. Your eyes roll back, and you try to focus hard on what it is he’s requesting of you.
“Hngg- B-Blue has a go-good alibi—” you let out an obscene whine, the wet noises of his tongue dragging against your soaked pussy diverting you from the task at hand.
“Mhmm?” He hums, and the vibration has you bucking against his face again, sobbing out his name in a broken whimper.
“A-And I’m not sure about Purple!” You squeak out. God, it’s so messy. You’re soaking his face, and you’re sure you can see your slick glossing up his nose and chin. If you stained the seat, you’re not even sure he’d mind; the blues of his eyes engulfed by the black of his pupils.
It’s a wave of pleasure building, teasing at your abdomen and throbbing through you with each pulse of your heart. You inhale deeply, feeling it tease at the edges of your skin. You’re devastated, overpowered by the ecstasy clawing at the base of your spine— you don’t even notice what it is you’re saying.
"I-I-It was the- ohhhh fuck, Benny~" you sob out, tears rolling down your cheeks, “It’s you— Hgnn fuck!-!”
"Hm? Use your words, dear. You're makin' an accusation, you know. Don't want to slip your words now." He’s entertained by your bewilderment, “Especially when the person you’re accusin’ has given you a damn good alibi.”
You’re so far gone that you’re not even embarrassed that you’d just implicated the one person you could be sure wasn’t the killer. Swallowing sobs, you watch as Benoit circles your clit repeatedly with his tongue, eyes staring straight up at you and watching you come apart.
It all happens so fast. Your toes are curling in your shoes as the cramping sensation of your oncoming orgasm takes hold. One of your shoes falls off and clatters to the floor, and Benoit places the flat of his palm against your pubic bone.
“Oh God-!” You choke out, whining as he continues with the devastating pattern he’s drawing. “I’m gonna— Shit, Benny, it’s—“
He’s nodding without removing his mouth from you as though he’s telling you ’I know’. It’s shoving you right off the edge, those beautiful blue eyes blinking slowly and taking in every inch of the image of ecstasy on your face.
It pulses right between your legs, throbbing against his tongue like a pulse. You scream out his name, all of the muscles in your body tensing so hard that you’re cramping. Your vision goes white, and you’re gripping Benoit’s hair so tightly that you’re surprised you don’t rip any out.
You’re suspended for a moment, and then everything melts away, every inch of your body melting against the plush of the seat. Distantly, you recognise the smile against his lips, pressed to your skin.
“… Who was it?” You slur like you’re drunk on the dopamine he’s just overdosed you on. He laughs heartily, and you can’t help but smile with him.
“Blue.”
“Fuck!” You gasp out, palms covering your face and digging your nails into your hairline. As if! “When on earth did you figure that out, Benny?”
He sits back on his knees, pulling the handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping his chin and nose to remove the slick you had rubbed onto him. “Mhmm… Why, I figured it out the moment you laid out the cards.”
You scoff now, disjointedly sitting up in your chair. The muscles of your arms are like jelly, and you struggle to raise yourself. “Are you that good that you could tell at first glance?”
Again, a smug smile plays at the edge of Benoit’s lips, his eyes flicking up to your face.
“No… I simply saw the cards you drew.”
END
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#benoit blanc#benoit blanc x you#benoit blanc x reader#Benoit blanc x y/n#Benoit blanc x f!reader#benoit blanc imagine#Benoit blanc fanfic#Benoit blanc fanfiction#knives out fanfiction#knives out fanfic#knives out#knives out 2#glass onion#Daniel Craig
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Being Benoit Blanc's assistant on a big case headcanons
A/N: Aka being the Watson to Benoit's Sherlock. I'm gonna keep writing headcanons until I have the motivation to write a one-shot. Also x male reader bc Benoit is gay as hell (& I love it)
When you entered Benoit's office for the interview he had to hold back from immediately saying "You're hired." He found himself spacing out a bit, thinking about how adorable you looked when you would ramble about your work history or even just the ride here.
Your first day ended up being the start of a huge case. You thought Benoit was babying you, maybe he was. But he didn't intend to make you feel lesser he got worried with how violent the murder was, so much so that he was afraid you'd get hurt.
When he interviewed each of the family members he had you sit behind him & take notes, making sure to put distance between any possible suspects & you.
The moment the last family member leaves the interview room Benoit turns to you with an excited grin on his face, ready to share theories.
"What do you think about this bunch, Y/N?"
"Hmm, good theory. I didn't think about that one. It's a good thing I have you here, Y/N."
Small note: He loves to say your name, it makes him so happy. Any chance he gets he will use it.
When a fight erupts between the family members he stands in front of you & instinctively grabs your arm/hand.
He ends up ranting to you about being unable to find the "key piece that's missing" & when you lay everything out for him he gets the silly little aha moment.
"Y/N, you did it! Lord, you are so intelligent! How I get so lucky as to work with you?" He yells as he pulls you into a hug, "I'm sorry, I got excited."
"Don't apologize," you pull him right back into a hug & hold him tightly.
You have to point out the dumb clues to him because he is terrible with dumb stuff. It has you absolutely awestruck when he finds some clues though, like solving a puzzle to open a door to a secret room. I swear these things only happen in movies but Benoit manages to find them.
When he pulls a cigar out to smoke, you take it from his mouth & take a breath of smoke. You might not be a smoker but at this rate, you've caught on to him having feelings for you & would kill to see this detective flustered.
Short story, it works.
Long story, he mutters out some southern curses under his breath. He looks up to you as you hand him the cigar back, pink dusting his cheeks & you do your best to repress a smile.
From then on he has a little more pep in his step, constantly telling himself you like him too.
Bonus:
If you do not have a suit Benoit will lend you one of his, you have to look dapper on the job to match your boss.
Bonus points if it's slightly oversized, Benoit would lose his mind.
At that, he's already losing his mind seeing you in his clothes. He has to fight to keep his eyes off you. Whenever your taking notes behind him he finds any opportunity to turn around, look you up & down, & say, "Did you get that, Y/N?" To which, after multiple times you can't help but laugh out of either annoyance or infatuation & breathe out, "Yes, Benoit, I did get that."
If one of the family members or especially suspects takes a jab at you (verbally) he will most definitely go off on them.
A/N: I'm totally going to make a one-shot where the reader gets hurt on the job & Benoit loses his shit!
#benoit blanc#benoit blanc x reader#knives out#glass onion#male reader#gay#lgbt#lgbtq#detective#assistant!reader#benoit blanc x you#benoit blanc x y/n#silly little gay detective#netflix
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Madelyn Cline looking absolutely stunning in Givenchy’s Pre-Fall 2023 dress while attending the Critics Choice Awards! 🖤
*manifesting that her and Zendaya will meet!*
#madelyncline#sarah cameron#madelyn cline#givenchy#critics choice awards#whiskey#glass onion#knives out#obx#outer banks#netlfix#maddie cline#madelyn cline x reader#madelyn cline x y/n#madelyn cline x you#madelyn cline fluff#madelyn cline imagine#madelynclineedit
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A Murder, A Nurse, A Case.[B.Blanc/Reader]
Part 1 of A Murder and A Motive
Summary: World’s greatest Detective and his second pair of eyes take on a difficult murder case of secrecy, disguise and revenge.
Pairing: Benoit Blanc [Knives out]/Reader. He/Him pronouns used.
Warnings: Descriptions of death, blood and wounds, abandonment.
Word Count: 1,946
Note: I am aware Benoit Blanc is canonically married but I am ignoring Hugh Grant in this story (rare for me - Paddington 2 is one of my favourite films because of him). Also! I am very not American so if words are off and it ruins the immersion, very sorry!
Not my gif!!
It was a remote farmhouse, far from any major roads and cities. Surrounded by seemingly endless fields and woods, though you could detect a small town nearby from the road signs. Usually, you would never notice a house like this. You would typically drive passed, but with the addition of four police cars, an ambulance, and P.I.‘s on the property, it was hard to ignore. It was a beautiful house still, architecturally stunning.
A chubby, older woman sat on the doorsteps of the house, unable to compose herself though police attempted to calm her. You closed the door to Blanc’s car and took in the stunning scenery and chaotic atmosphere. Another car pulled up swiftly after you, a young woman rushed out of the vehicle as soon as she stopped it and ran to talk to the police and comfort the woman on the steps.
“Blanc, good to see you.” A cop said. Officer West, she was present during a few cases throughout your time with Blanc. “Y/N…nice to see you again.” She said, a smirk on her face. Blanc had stated many times that she was utterly obsessed with you however you chose to ignore him.
“Officer West.” You nodded, and she nodded in return. You walked towards the house door where the two women sat consoling each other. Both women cried now.
“This is Marlene Edwards, James Lee’s primary nurse. She contacted us and told us of his death when she arrived this morning. This is Joanna Lee, the victim's only living relative.” Officer West introduced you to the women, who were obviously beside themselves but staying strong. Marlene Edwards was in her late 60's, she had her dark hair in a neat bun and wore her scrubs just as she usually would. She had dark circles around her eyes, perhaps from crying, perhaps from being an overworked medical worker. Nonetheless, she looked kind.
The other woman, Joanna Lee, was frankly the opposite. She had long ginger hair, which was in a messy ponytail. Her clothes seemed to be the first she picked out, it was only 7:15 A.M. anyway. Pain lined her tearstained face.
“Pleasure to meet the two of you. I’m Detective Benoit Blanc, and this is my assistant Y/N L/N. Perhaps we go inside and talk to you both?” He asked as he shook their hands. They nodded, opening the door and guiding you both through the house.
The house was even more beautiful inside. Each wall was an aged brown with lightly gold details on each corner, and the floor was a dark wood that had a slight creak in some places. It was traditional, simple but not too simple, and obviously an inherited home.
The two women sat in the lounge together, and you sat opposite them with Blanc. The couches were made of dark leather with sage green feather pillows. You enjoyed noticing the small details of the locations of murders, it showed some repeating patterns.
“Now, Marlene, is it? Tell me, when did you arrive here this morning?” Blanc asked her, the victim's daughter held the older woman’s hand tightly to comfort her. You opened your notepad and took a sleek black pen Blanc had gotten you for your birthday from your pocket.
“6:30 A.M, just like every mornin'.” She managed to choke out, Joanna rubbed her back. You scribbled that down in your notebook.
“What time did you find his body, would you say?” He asked, she took a moment to answer.
“Around 6:55 A.M, I don’t remember. I always spruce the place up a bit, make him a coffee and breakfast before he wakes up, then I give him his medicine.” She replied, thinking particularly hard to remember. "I hit a bookshelf when I went to the phone, it's a mess up there."
You wrote carefully and quickly so as to not miss any information. “And what medications was your patient on?” Blanc inquired. You loved the way he was so meticulous about what questions he asked, when to ask them, everything. He was incredibly talented in his work and took great care of the victim's family and friends.
“Lisinopril, a blood pressure medication. Hydrocodone, a pain medication. He’s diabetic, so I test his blood every 2-3 hours and inject insulin when needed.” She told you, she was cooperating perfectly. You wrote down what she had said.
“How many nurses or caretakers have been here in the passed few days?”
“There’s always 2 of us on sight in a day, Sarah, she comes and takes care of his bathing needs and everything like that around 4:30 P.M. Yesterday there was a trainee nurse, his name was, uh, Clark?” That was intriguing. You’d had some background information on the case beforehand and only two caretakers were noted. Marlene Edwards and Sarah-Jane Matthews.
“Tell me more of this Clark," He leaned forward, clearly compelled by this mysterious character.
"He was a young feller, fresh out of school, maybe late 20's? He said he was new and still partly training to care for the elderly. He showed me his work I.D...I didn't even question he could be lyin'. Oh, sweet Jesus." She covered her mouth and realised it was likely to be him, she couldn't help but blame herself for allowing him into his home.
"Don't blame yourself, love. You couldn't have known." You reassured her, sending her a warm smile before returning to your notepad and writing down a possible suspect.
"Thank you, Mrs Edwards. This information could be crucial. I'd like to speak to Miss. Lee alone if that would be okay?" He informed her, she nodded and scurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Lee. I know it is a horrible situation. You’re strong." You prefaced before Blanc could begin. Blanc glared at you and gave you a smile. You took after him in supporting the victim's family members and friends.
“What was your and your father's relationship like?” Blanc asked, she composed herself and thought for a few moments.
“Strong, I’d say. We loved each other and talked every day after I finished work. We’d always have a game of Clue with Marlene and Sarah when I was there, I bet you’re really good at that game.” She laughed slightly, reminiscing on good times with her father.
“He’s terrible.” You mimed at her, and she smiled at that. Talking to people casually was a psychological trick you’d picked up. You used standard English, made jokes when acceptable and spoke to them like you would a friend. They open up and become more comfortable talking.
“Your mother, is sh-” Benoit began before he was cut off my Joanna.
“Margaret Lee. She died when I was 14. Car accident. It took a real toll on Dad. He had Survivor’s Guilt since that day. Always blaming himself. It hurt to watch. He was on Antidepressants for 3 years,” She said. She looked down at her hands for a moment. You sent her an empathetic look, your head bowed down and your eyes closed.
"That must've been very difficult," Blanc said. "Y/N, would you investigate that Trainee Nurse while I talk to Miss Lee?" He asked, you nodded, standing from the couch.
"It was lovely to meet you, Joanna. You're powerful." You shook the woman's hand before she left and gave her kind eyes. You wandered through the house, taking time to indulge in your surroundings. Though the gruesome smell of death lingered through the house, you doubted it was unfamiliar to it. It was aged, and the paint on the walls chipped away from where furniture and frames once were. You saw Officer West and headed towards her.
"Y/N! You alright?" She turned around quickly, two cups of coffee in her hand. "Here, I know it's cold out." She handed you one.
"Thank you. We need to get in contact with whoever is distributing carers here. We have a suspect." You ordered, she gasped slightly. "Clark, no other details other than a young, late 20’s, trainee nurse. He was here yesterday."
"I will get that info for you!"
After 10 minutes of waiting by the door, the tips of your fingers turning blue, Officer West approached you. "There is a Clark, trainee nurse, but he's 45. He was reported in an old folks home yesterday. But get this, when asked, he couldn't find his I.D.!" She told you enthusiastically with a smile. You smiled and nodded.
"Thank you, Officer." You stormed inside, finally feeling warmth against your skin again. "Blanc!" You yelled towards the lounge room, which he was already leaving. "Bad news, the Clark that Mrs Edwards described isn't registered. But, the real Clark is a 45-year-old man whose I.D. is absent from his person. It was stolen."
"My, so we're on a hunt for an unknown individual?" He questioned, you took a pause before nodding uncomfortably. "No leads, nothing."
"Well, we haven't snooped around yet. That's my favourite part," You smiled, walking back towards the stairs. "Shall we?" You raised your hand as you stepped onto the first step. Blanc looked down at your hand and laughed, not taking your hand but walking up the stairs with you still.
"We're not snoopin', Y/N. We're looking for evidence," He reminded you, shooting you disapproving, teasing eyes.
"We're kinda snooping," You mumbled before getting to the upper floor. It was a slight mess, with books scattered across the floor from when Marlene ran to the phone. You kicked some out of the way to make a clear path. You knew which room was James Lee's. The metallic stench of recently shed blood and the linger of death surrounded the doorway. You entered the room.
His sheets were still painted with his blood. You couldn't help but uncomfortably cover your mouth at the horrific sight. It was clear the killer wasn't well-skilled. The walls and floor were splattered with blood. It was a horrific sight to witness. "My lord, they really wanted him dead," You heard Blanc mutter under his breath.
"Seems so. Get to looking," You ordered him, you weren't usually as clear and demanding to Blanc, but after seeing this you couldn't help but be angry.
"I thought I gave orders," He huffed before he put a pair of gloves on. You followed after him and began the search for something, anything that gave you enough evidence to have a lead.
You found nothing. There were pictures of his family, vacations, books, empty medicine bottles, clothes. That was typical for any room, you didn't doubt that they were there well before the murder had occurred. You looked at high shelves when you noticed a camera.
It was old. Clearly a valuable item for display only. You picked it carefully from its place. You coughed as dust entered your throat. Checking if it had film, you were met with nothing. You sighed, placing it back on the shelf.
A case. There was a case hidden behind the camera. It was sleek and untouched for many years, covered in dust. As Blanc searched under the bed. You slowly opened it. "Blanc. Look." He raised his head from under the bed.
"What? What've you got?" He asked, hitting his head as he tried to get from under the bed and yelping. Once he'd composed himself and stood, he dusted himself off and looked at the case. "Joanna's baby book? That's all? Did your parents not do that?" He asked. It was a small book, with a photo of a newborn baby on the front with the name Joanna Haf Lee written on the front in gold lettering.
"Blanc, there's two."
Part 2 <-
#benoit blanc#benoit blanc x reader#benoit blanc x y/n#benoit blanc x you#daniel craig#knives out#knives out glass onion#knives out 2#glass onion#rian johnson#knives out fanfiction#knives out x reader
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Ring | Joel Miller
pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader
warnings: tommy’s being a little shit lol, marriage, reader is unintentionally oblivious for a bit, no outbreak, reader is depicted to be shorter than joel, au where ellie is joel and reader’s adopted daughter but she’s only very briefly mentioned, smut (bathroom quickie), slight jealousy, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.
word count: 2k
synopsis: Tommy teases Joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your ring.
quick one shot in honor of 700 followers??? oh my god?? i love u all sm thank you!!!
this was honestly kinda poorly written. forgive me :’)
“Hey big brother, what’s up with you and your girl?” Tommy asks, brows furrowed as he leans up against the counter next to Joel.
“Hell are ya talkin’ about, Tommy?” Joel continues to chop onions for the barbecue you guys were throwing today.
“Are you guys, I dunno, having marriage problems?” Tommy quirks a brow, and Joel halts his movements. He sets the knife down on the counter while averting his gaze up to his brother, expression clearly displaying pure annoyance.
Tommy might’ve bugged the shit out of Joel, but he knew he had good intentions. So why the hell would he be asking this?
“What makes you say that?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest now, waiting for Tommy to spew some bullshit at him.
“She’s not wearin’ her ring.” Tommy shrugs, and Joel’s permanent furrowed brow lines deepen even further.
“The hell she ain’t. She always wears her ring.” Joel argues back.
“Go see for yourself big brother.” Tommy gestures outside, where Joel pushes past him and slides open the glass door to find you at the cooler talking with some random new guy from the neighborhood. Joel noticed that he was trying to flirt with you, and being the naturally kindhearted and welcoming person you were, you didn’t catch on.
Joel also noticed that Tommy was right—you weren’t wearing your ring.
If there was one thing that Joel learned from you over the years you’ve been together and three years married, it was how to properly communicate his feelings. He used to be so closed off and would bottle everything up, letting stuff bother him until he became so distant.
You weren’t having any of that, though, so you sat him down one day and told him that you needed proper communication between you both. You were a saint with Joel, being so patient and kind to him as he was trying to unlearn his previous ways of shutting himself out from everyone around him when he didn’t exactly know how to communicate something.
Some days were harder than others, but ever the sweetheart you are, you never rushed him or got irritated when he couldn’t exactly seem to form his words to you. You just held him and kissed him repeatedly, letting him know it was okay and he could take his time.
This time around, he didn’t seem to have a single bit of a problem telling you what he was feeling. So, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your temple to show the man that was so clearly interested in you that you were taken.
“Hey darlin’.” Joel rasps into your ear, kissing your shoulder afterward.
“Hey baby. This is Dominic. He’s new to the neighborhood. Dominic, this is my husband, Joel.”
Joel sported a shit-eating grin when Dominic’s body went rigid at the word husband. Joel stuck his hand out to him, and Dominic apprehensively shook his hand. Joel’s grip was firmer than it regularly was, and Dominic flinched in the slightest.
“Thanks for keeping my beautiful wife some company while I got stuff ready for the grill.” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and you looked up at him with a quirked brow.
He offered you a tight-lipped smile when his gaze met yours, clearing his throat. “Can I steal you for a minute, baby?” He asks, arms possessively wrapping around your frame. You nod, confused as to why Joel was acting a bit strange suddenly.
He intertwines your hand with his, and you excuse yourself from Dominic as Joel led you into the house and up to your bedroom.
“What’s this about, Joel?” You question as he closes the bedroom door, locking it behind him.
“Where’s your wedding ring at, baby?” He asks, looking down at you. A glint of something flashes across his eyes, but you couldn’t put your finger on what.
“‘S in my jewelry box. I didn’t wanna lose it helping around the backyard today or swimming if I did, so I knew it would be safe in there instead. Why?” Your curiosity is piqued.
Joel slowly maneuvers himself past you and over to your jewelry box, opening the top of it to firstly find your wedding ring neatly placed.
He takes the ring out of the jewelry box and walks over to you, grabbing your left hand to slip it onto your ring finger once more. Right where it belongs, perfectly fitted. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly.
“Tommy’s bein’ a little shit, as always. Came into the kitchen with assumptions that we were having ‘marriage problems’ because you weren’t wearing your ring.” He tsked, shaking his head.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed.
“Y’gotta stop letting Tommy get into your head, J. I love you, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him, and his lips curled up in the slightest.
“I know baby, I just can’t help but feel jealous when I see another man flirting with my woman.”
“Jealous? Of who?” You were puzzled at Joel’s confession, resting a steady hand on his warm chest.
“That new neighbor. Dylan or whatever the fuck his name is.” Joel spat.
You had no idea Dominic was even flirting with you. You thought he was just being friendly. Fuck, maybe Joel was right. Maybe you are oblivious sometimes.
You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips envelope yours. One hand of his is splayed over the small of your back while the other rests on the outside of your thigh, rubbing small circles into your exposed skin. The dress you were wearing today was just another distraction for Joel and a reminder that he needed to behave himself or else the whole neighborhood would hear you saying his name like a prayer on Sunday morning.
Joel’s cock stirred at the thought, and he groaned into the kiss. You pulled apart from him and moved your hands down to his chest again.
“C’mon cowboy, people are gonna wonder where we’re at.” You grin, going to the bedroom door to unlock it. You were about halfway down the hallway before Joel tugged you into the bathroom on your right side.
“They can wait.” He closed the door and pressed you up against it, locking the lock before smashing his lips to yours.
There was so much hunger behind his kiss. You felt slick start to pool onto your panties, the want in your core licking a flame up your body. You moan into the kiss, gripping the back of his head to mold yourself even further into him. It was nothing but teeth clashing, lips smacking, and fervor for one another as the kiss continued.
“Gotta make this quick, babydoll.” Joel finally broke the kiss as you softly whined, and he turned you around to move you in front of the wide mirror. You met his gaze through the reflection, nothing but hunger in his eyes.
He lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down your legs in one swift motion. His middle finger wasted no time in collecting the slick arousal between your legs, causing you to moan softly.
“Always so ready for me, baby.” Joel chuckled darkly as he brought his middle finger up to suck your arousal off of it. He looked you right into the reflection of your eyes as he did so. The sight was nearly pornographic.
You bite your lip and plead with your eyes; please please please just fuck me, Joel.
His middle finger made its way back down to your slick cunt before he pushed it into you, pumping languidly. He curled his thick finger to hit the spot that drove you wild, and you found yourself gripping onto the counter for dear life. You decided, though, that his finger just wasn’t enough in this moment.
“Please, J. I need you.”
“Need you too, baby.” Joel got the message clear as day, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper and jeans button in record time, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. His painful erection sprung free, and he lined himself up with your throbbing, aching cunt.
He easily found home in you as he sunk to the hilt, groaning at how good you felt around him.
“Be a good girl for me and tell me who you belong to.” Joel’s voice was dark, teetering on the line of possessive. You found it hot, though.
“Y-Yours, Joel. ‘M all yours.” You can barely say your words as he starts to rock his hips, deliciously stretching you out every time his hips collided with your ass.
“That’s it, baby, mine. No one else’s. Perfect little pussy is mine, you’re mine, mine.” He gritted into your hair, pulling you back against him by your waist as he rocked his hips up into you. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, moaning his name softly.
“Gotta be quiet, baby, can’t have anyone hearin’ us now.” Joel kissed you sloppily to hide your lewd moans, hips snapping up into you.
“Fuck, Joel, feel s’good.” Your words start to mesh together like you’re absolutely cock drunk.
Joel bends you back down over the sink and gently wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look up into the mirror as he pounds into you from behind.
“So fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ me so well, sweet girl. Been teasin’ me with this little dress on all day.” Joel lets go of your throat and slides his hand down to your front, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions.
You barely have time to process that your body is about to give into Joel’s expert touch. You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw falling completely slack as you let out an accidental loud moan. Joel didn’t even stop you that time, because he himself was already on the brink of an orgasm.
“Cum with me, my love.” Joel groans into your ear. You both let go and just let it happen, praying that the music playing in the backyard is loud enough to cover your wanton moans as you both come down from your orgasms. Joel was reluctant to move out of you at first, but he couldn’t take the way you were clenched down on him anymore.
You were so fucking intoxicating and if it were his choice, he’d gladly be buried into your sweet, warm cunt all of the time.
Reality trickled back in around you both as he pulled out of you with a groan, both breathless and panting. After readjusting and redressing himself, he grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet above the toilet and wet it, wiping down the excess of his remnants on the apex of your inner thighs. He planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, pulling your panties up on you as he stood back up.
He helped fix your hair and readjusted you so you looked almost completely normal, albeit your face felt hot and you had a post-fuck look on your face.
He brought you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your hair.
“I love you, baby.” He murmurs softly, rocking you for a minute.
“I love you too.” Your reached your left hand up to hook onto his forearm that was wrapped around you, giving it a squeeze. Your ring glinted in the sunlight that pooled into the bathroom window, and Joel smiled happily.
“We’ll continue this later tonight, baby. Maybe Sarah and Ellie can spend the night at a friend’s house tonight.”
Your lips curl into a smile at his suggestion, and you lean up to kiss his cheek.
“Let’s get back out to the party.” He pats your ass and opens the door, coming out after you. You make your way down the stairs, Joel hot on your trail.
Tommy gives Joel a knowing look of ‘I know exactly what you two were up to.’
Joel scoffs at Tommy and grumbles as he moves past his younger brother.
“Marriage problems my ass.”
tag list: @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana
#joel miller#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#joel miller imagines#joel miller smut#joel miller au#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x wife!reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x afab!reader
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Trouvaille - Chapter Fifteen (M)
Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 21.3k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
HI HI HI! Thank you all for your patience for this update while I was recovering from my cold! I'm excited to share this chapter, it's jam-packed with emotion, some uncomfortable confrontation, fluff, and of course, some more depraved smut LOL. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you again for everyone wishing me a speedy recovery and your unwavering support. (also pls excuse any typos fdskafdjf) Love from Dana 💜
As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
“I know you’re mad at me, but you know why I had to break that up, right?” Yoongi watched Y/N though slitted eyes as she poured a rather large glass of white wine for herself, scoffing.
Ignoring him, she took a swig of the chilled wine and turned on her heels, returning to the stove to stir the onion she was in the middle of sauteing. Even she could feel her irritation and anger coming off of herself in vicious waves, perhaps stirring the thyme into her mixture of onion, celery, and carrot with too much aggression.
“Y/N, come on. The silent treatment is really childish,” Yoongi’s deep voice had an edge of grit to it, Y/N snorting humorlessly.
The sounds of the leopard hybrid storming over to her side filled her ringing ears, and when he gently grasped her wrist to pry the wooden spoon from her grip, she spun around to face him, gritting her teeth when he turned off the stove.
“Childish? That’s rich,” Y/N eyed the way Yoongi’s spotted tail was flicking back and forth in agitation, hating having to argue with him at all. “You can’t just prevent me from talking to the others, Yoongi.”
A muscle pulsing in his jaw, Yoongi took a deep breath while pushing his hair out of his face, taking a better hold of Y/N’s hand and squeezing it once.
“I get why that’s how you probably see it, but that’s not what that was,” Yoongi replied evenly, appearing to exercise his unending patience.
“Okay, then explain! You know I’ve been trying to talk to Tae for days! Now he’ll probably never want to open up again,” Y/N had hysteria welling up in her, unable to decide if she was jealous of the way Yoongi always seemed to be so calm and collected.
“Yes, I know, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s jaw tensed again, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. “But not like that. He’s never been that drunk, at least since we’ve known him. I was trying to prevent him from doing something he might regret once sobering up.”
Y/N blinked, reading the sincerity on his face, her shoulders relaxing down a couple of inches.
“You know, the kid’s kind of grown on me in the last few months. I know that he’d be humiliated if things escalated further, that’s why I intervened. Besides, I didn’t want him to put you in a tight spot. I’m aware of how much you care about him,” Yoongi continued, the pinch between his brows loosening up when Y/N seemed to cool off.
“Sorry…” Y/N murmured, suddenly embarrassed that she was so quick to lose her temper on Yoongi.
“Nothing to apologize for. Just don’t clam up on me like that, and we’ll be good,” Yoongi softened, lifting her hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “Let him sober up, sleep it off. Talk to him in the morning.”
Cheeks burning, she nodded, Yoongi letting go of her and swiping her wine glass, taking a sip with a purr. He took up the task of stirring the base ingredients of the tortellini soup Y/N was making for dinner, Y/N sighing and leaning up to stamp a kiss on his jaw, his still-damp hair tickling the tip of her nose.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted things to escalate like that… thank you, my angel,” Y/N hummed, reaching up to give one of his ears a scratch, his posture stiffening then dissolving into shivers as her fingers stroked through the short fur.
“You’re gonna take advantage of that weakness all the time from now on, aren’t you,” Yoongi’s voice was feathery, Y/N chuckling and mercifully releasing his ear. “Chop up that fennel, we’ll add it to the soup to bulk it up.”
Stealing her wineglass back, Y/N did just that, glad that her and Yoongi didn’t have to have an explosive argument over jealousy. However, as her knife sliced down into the bulb of fennel, her thoughts turned to Taehyung– reeking of booze, cornering her to a wall, unfamiliar flames in his eyes. She knew that the next morning, Taehyung would probably be avoidant and perhaps even embarrassed, and pinning him down to talk to him would be no easy feat. She had no doubt that the Kodiak hybrid wouldn’t be present for dinner, which heightened her concern– all that booze and no food didn’t add up to a hangover-less morning.
“I’ll bring him up some of this later, in a thermos. Don’t worry,” Yoongi once again read her mind, Y/N using the flat of her knife to slide the sliced fennel into the Dutch oven the leopard hybrid was standing over. “He’s definitely passed out, at the moment.”
Nodding, she gave Yoongi a pat on the back, getting to work on prepping some of the other ingredients for dinner. The silence was amicable, comfortable, so the sound of the slider door scraping open had her squeaking in surprise, nearly dropping the loaf of garlic bread she was putting into the oven.
“If you don’t get out of my face, fox, I’m going to take my Zippo to your running sneakers,” Jeongguk’s gruff voice bounced off the walls of the kitchen, brushing snowflakes off of the shoulders of his leather jacket.
“What? I just asked if you had feeling in your antlers,” Hoseok defended himself, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin as he returned from his evening run. “You don’t have to be so accusatory all the time.”
Y/N stifled a laugh, looking over her shoulder to take a better glance at the spectacle, Jeongguk scoffing sharply as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door. Apparently, it had begun to snow outside, both his and Hoseok’s hair dusted with powdery clumps of it.
“And you don’t have to be such a nosy, irritating son of a bitch all the time, but sometimes we’re just created a certain way,” Jeongguk replied, Hoseok frowning as he caught a bottle of water Yoongi was tossing his way.
“Forget it, I’ll just Google it later,” Hoseok muttered, collapsing heavily into the breakfast nook, his ears drooping. “Cold as shit outside, by the way. Y/N, you’re sure we can’t move to Florida?”
“What’s with you and Florida, Foxy? Got a secret past there or something?” Yoongi inquired, wiping his hands on a dishtowel after bringing the soup to a simmer.
“Not particularly. It’s just warm and pretty there all the time. Didn’t you mention February can be even colder than January up here, Y/N?” Hoseok expertly dodged Yoongi’s line of questioning, redirecting his attention to Y/N.
“Sometimes. Judging by all the snow we’ve been getting lately, it’s looking that way,” Y/N admitted, still put off by the idea of living through Floridian summers. “I guess I’ll have to look into booking a trip to Disney a bit more seriously.”
“Ugh,” Jeongguk was disgusted, usually the one to turn his nose up at a Disney movie Seokjin or Hoseok would put on during movie night. “At least they sling excessive booze there, so I’ve heard.”
“Yeah, we can drink around the world in EPCOT,” Y/N put a finger to her lips, trying to calculate how much park tickets, souvenirs, a villa, and transport would run her– she shuddered at the figure she came up with roughly. To boot, the three hybrids in the room stared at her blankly, like she started spontaneously speaking French. “It’s a park in the resort. You know what, I’ll tell you all about it if I can scrape up the funds for a trip in the fall or whatever.”
The slider was pulled open again, this time bringing Jimin and Namjoon in from the cold, Jimin with only sock-clad feet, his muddied boots stowed beneath a covered section of the patio to prevent tracking mess into the house. Namjoon had a stack of thick books tucked under one of his arms, his denim-sherpa jacket damp with snow, nodding once at Y/N before heading off in the direction of his bedroom, likely to deposit the materials. Ever since she gave the wolf hybrid the information about their upcoming consultation, he had been burning the midnight oil tearing through all of the books he had in order to prepare himself.
“Hey, Jimin, how are the babies?” Y/N inquired about the animals, tuning out Jeongguk and Hoseok still bickering about his antlers, and whether or not they had feeling in them– secretly, Y/N was curious, too. “Oh shit– are you bleeding?”
Y/N dropped the knife she was using to shave parmesan slices for the soup with alarm, eyes bugging out of her head noticing the blood on his wrist. She flew over to him at lightning speed, hands outstretched to examine the damage. Jimin exhaled slowly, handing over his forearm, Y/N’s face settling into a deep frown.
“I’m alright, now, Y/N. It was just Bandit up to his old tricks when I went to give the chickens their supper,” Jimin’s voice had amusement coloring it, a half-smile on his face when Y/N dragged him to the island to dab a paper towel over the minor wound.
“That cocksucking rooster. We should just sell it,” Hoseok squawked from his spot on the breakfast bar, looking up from the noisy Tik Tok he was playing aloud. “I think it’s evil.”
Jimin rolled his eyes at the comment, one of his sandy ears twitching, before he placed his hand over Y/N’s tenderly.
“It’s just a nip. I’ll go disinfect it and come right back,” Jimin assured her, Y/N’s stubbornness coming to a head.
“Let me help,” Y/N tailed the coyote hybrid, reminded of the time he tended to her injury, and wanting to give a little bit back. “Bandit… appropriately named. Or perhaps Lucifer would have suited him better.”
Jimin snorted, letting Y/N grab a hold of the thick corduroy button-down he had over his tee shirt, dragging her down the hall and into his bedroom. The room, as always, had a sereneness to it. Dark blue colors, neat and tidy, and smelling like calming lavender and the crisp outdoors.
“Okay, sit,” Y/N took control, pushing Jimin onto his bed by his biceps, his tail slightly thumping against his mattress as determination set the shape of her mouth. Making haste for his bathroom, she was easily able to locate his basic first-aid kit, one she had in every en-suite in the house under the sink, dragging it out to the awaiting coyote hybrid.
Sitting beside him, Y/N held out her palm expectantly, Jimin placing his forearm into her grasp with a gentle sigh of resignation. Wincing at the torn skin, Y/N quickly loaded up a cotton square with alcohol, dabbing at the site gingerly. Jimin, to his credit, didn’t wince or flinch away, simply studying her actions with his lip tucked between his teeth.
“Sorry, it probably stings,” Y/N mumbled, reaching for the soothing ointment in the kit blindly, applying it on the bite.
“‘S alright,” Jimin shook his head, his hand curling into a fist before his digits relaxed, Y/N wondering if it was an attempt to get past the pain. “It’ll probably be healed up by the morning.”
Humming, Y/N smoothed a Hello Kitty bandaid over his skin, recalling how quickly hybrids recovered from injury.
“I’m sure something like that happened from time to time when you worked on the ranch,” Y/N mused, reluctant to let go of the coyote hybrid just yet.
“Yeah, perks of the job,” Jimin chuckled, making no move to peel himself away from her as well, Y/N feeling the brush of his tail against her lower back. “Thank you for patching me up. Beats my buddies telling me to rub dirt in it or threatening to kiss it better.”
Blinking at that tidbit of information, Y/N watched Jimin’s eyes go far away, a tiny smile on his full lips. Without thinking, and while he was distracted, Y/N ducked, pressing her puckered lips to the pink bandage. All she heard was a sharp, quiet, gasped intake of breath, Jimin’s strong forearm going limp in her palm as soon as she kissed him.
“A kiss is better than dirt, no?” Y/N straightened back up, finally letting his arm go and pushing that pesky strand of honey hair over his forehead back to join the rest of his slicked-back locks.
Jimin was stunned, effectively pulled out of his reminiscing, his butterscotch eyes wide as he stared down at her. In the distance, she heard Hoseok hollering about dinner being ready, Jimin’s downturned ears twitching, Y/N leaping from her spot and motioning for Jimin to follow. She was halfway through the door when Jimin replied, though she didn’t end up catching what he said.
“Much better.”
The next morning, a Sunday, would have typically been lazy and domestic. Usually, her and her hybrids went about their own business; watching movies, playing board games, and attending to their hobbies. However, that particular Sunday morning, Y/N had left Jimin in charge of making sure no one got into petty arguments, and was carefully ascending the stairs with a plate of hot, greasy breakfast food.
Much like Yoongi had predicted, Taehyung had not joined the rest of them for dinner, which nobody else saw as odd. Taehyung was still rather introverted and not so keen on befriending anyone besides Yoongi, and the others were of course happy to ignore him. The Kodiak hybrid hadn’t hauled himself downstairs for the Sunday morning fry up, and Y/N figured it was as good of a time as any to get their uncomfortable conversation out of the way.
Reaching his bedroom door, Y/N balanced the plate of food on her forearm, a large glass of water in her grip, and used her free hand to knock on his door as quietly as she could. She heard a gruff groan in response, Y/N rolling her eyes and making her way inside the room, shutting the door behind her.
The room was dark, all of the drapes pulled shut a little haphazardly, and Taehyung was slumped on his bed, his arm dangling over the side of the mattress and one of his cheeks squished on a pillow. His wild curly hair was matted and sticking up in several directions, and as Y/N held back a giggle when he moaned again, his eyebrows knit together and his nostrils flared.
“Morning,” Y/N whispered, placing the plate of food on his dresser, putting a lid over the fried eggs, mountain of toast, and breakfast sausages so they wouldn’t get cold. Though she uttered the greeting only above a breath, Taehyung groaned, pretty much planked on his front on top of his quilt. “Oh, honey…”
Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out a packet of Advil tablets, crouching down in front of him and offering both the medication and the chilled glass of water, one of his carmine eyes cracking open slightly.
After a beat, Y/N watched the hybrid sluggishly turn onto his side, propped up on an elbow, his lips chapped as they parted slightly. Moving at glacial speed, Taehyung refused to meet Y/N’s eyes as he accepted both the pills and the glass, eagerly taking the medication and sucking down half the glass of water.
“Bit too much to drink last night, huh?” Y/N began, planting her ass on the ground and wrapping her arms around her knees. Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the Advil capsules, Y/N following the movement with rapt interest. “I brought you some breakfast. It’ll soak up some of that gin. You should take it easy today, Tae, I can bring up my laptop and you can do a little photo editing in bed or something.”
Taehyung sat up more fully, although the movement was clunky and lacked the typical brawn and speed that he usually operated at. Clutching his forehead, one of Taehyung’s sharpened incisors bit down on his lower lip so harshly he drew a bead of blood to the surface of the flesh. Sighing, Y/N got to her knees, reaching up and back for the plate of food, placing it on his bed in front of him. The Kodiak hybrid’s complexion turned a touch green, a large hand slapping across his mouth and nose, and Y/N swore she heard a guttural gag from the back of his throat. She’d been there.
“I know the smell is probably making you nauseous, but you’ll feel better if you eat. I promise,” Y/N encouraged, Taehyung’s round ears pressed flat against his skull, an animalistic grumble vibrating his chest. “I… wanna talk to you, Tae.”
Appearing to catch him off guard as he poked at one of the fried eggs with his fork, Taehyung blinked at her, his expression blank. Y/N suspected, judging by the vacant expression, that he might have blacked out the previous night and couldn’t remember anything that happened; including but not limited to him pushing her against a wall and letting Yoongi spoon-feed him tortellini soup (or so her leopard hybrid had revealed to her over her morning coffee).
“Do you remember anything about last night?”
“No… No, I don’t,” Taehyung set his fork down promptly, unease turning down the corners of his mouth. “Did I do something wrong?”
Y/N shook her head immediately, though she knew that Yoongi– and the others, if they knew, would beg to differ. Unfortunately, the silent denial did nothing to make Taehyung’s alarm go away.
“You definitely drank way over your limit, but you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing I’ve ever done that drunk, anyways,” Y/N picked at the fringe on his rug, mind going to the memory of drunkenly pushing Yoongi against a wall and demanding his phone number. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I haven’t managed to corner you until now.”
“What did I do?” Taehyung ignored her latter statement, stiffening when Y/N leaned forward, plucking up a piece of toast and raising it to his lips with a cocked eyebrow. If he didn’t get any food into his system, he’d feel like garbage the rest of the day, hybrid healing skills or not.
“You seemed angry with me. I came home, you were listening to some jazz on Youtube in the parlor, and you had finished about half a bottle of gin. With no chasers,” Y/N only began speaking when Taehyung reluctantly took a bite of the toast, chewing robotically and staring at his hands tangled in his lap. “I think you were trying to tell me something, but Yoongi interrupted before you could say anything… and then you ran up here.”
Taehyung was quiet, his dark eyebrows pulled together as Y/N fed him toast, apparently lost in thought. While disheveled and still dressed in his cargo pants and hoodie from yesterday, Taehyung was nothing short of effortlessly handsome, even if Y/N could smell gin on his breath.
“Angry with you?” Taehyung mumbled, tongue flicking out to catch some jam on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry…”
“It’s alright, Tae. Keep eating,” Y/N encouraged, placing the fork back into his hand. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of this anecdote, but people often say that drunk words are sober thoughts. If there’s something on your mind, I want you to be able to talk to me about it. I care about you a lot, and miss having you around all the time. I don’t like… the distance.”
Y/N surprised herself by being so honest, stopping just short of spilling her guts and revealing her feelings for her elusive Kodiak hybrid. As she spoke, Taehyung made it about halfway through an egg before he pushed the plate away on top of his quilt, a frown on his face but the guarded look in his eyes softening exponentially. Looking down at her through his eyelashes, Taehyung heaved a great sigh, head tipping backwards and collapsing on his pillow.
“I’ve been acting immaturely, huh?” Taehyung breathed, his forearm draped over his eyes as he chuckled humorlessly, seemingly talking to himself more than anything else. “There’s no use in avoiding you, anyways. Stubborn and persistent.”
“So, you were purposefully avoiding me. Wanna tell me why? Does it have to do with… Yoongi and I?” Y/N probed, nearly whispering the last question. The corner of Taehyung’s mouth quirked up into a sardonic smirk. “Okay, I’m guessing that’s what it is.”
“I just,” Taehyung peeled his arm off of his face, sitting up and joining Y/N on the floor, pushing curls out of his eyes with annoyance. “Like Jimin. Wish you just told me.”
Y/N swallowed, looking down at her lap, shame filling her. Taehyung returned to his breakfast, munching on another piece of toast, leaning against his bed. She could hear him taking sniffs of the air delicately, probably smelling the emotions coming off of her, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how he sat several inches away, rather than pressed up against her like normal.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N’s voice was scratchy, picking at the rug once more. “You’re right, I should have told you.”
“That night, when I told you about how I ended up here, you said you trusted me. I trust you,” Taehyung admitted, Y/N slouching so low in response, she felt like she was curling in on herself. “I meant what I said, and I know you did too. But I couldn’t understand why you felt like you needed to hide your feelings for Yoongi from me.”
Not wanting to cry in front of the hybrid, pride somehow welling up in her and mingling with her shame, she willed her lip to stop wobbling, peeking at Taehyung out of the corner of her eye. While difficult to hear, Y/N could tell it took a great deal of courage for Taehyung to confess that to her.
“I didn’t know how to bring it up to any of you. I felt like everyone was finally getting comfortable here, and I was worried about disturbing the peace. Of course, I managed to do that anyways,” Y/N stared out of one of Taehyung’s windows, keeping her vision on the horizon so tears wouldn’t spill down her cheeks. “I trust you, of course. It wasn’t about me not trusting you, but trying to protect everyone’s… peace, I suppose. Comfort.”
“You can’t protect us from everything, Y/N,” Taehyung told her softly, Y/N all too aware of that truth. “There are going to be times where shit gets rough or uncomfortable, but we’ve all been through tough situations before. We can handle the truth, even if you think we can’t.”
Y/N was stunned by Taehyung’s sage advice, even if he was scolding her slightly. Nodding, she swallowed thickly, Taehyung reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder heavily. The contact had her spine going rigid, as Taehyung hadn’t so much as glanced at her recently, let alone give her a friendly touch.
“Is he… treating you well?” Taehyung’s low voice was barely audible, even right in her ear. The question made her cheeks burn, heart racing. Whatever she was expecting him to say next, it wasn’t that.
“Um, yes, of course,” Y/N mumbled awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs. “He loves me, too.”
“I know,” Taehyung removed his hand from her shoulder, getting to his feet and beginning to rummage through his dresser. “He’s loved you from the start.”
Gawking at Taehyung, looking at him from head to toe while his back was turned, Y/N was at a loss for words. Taehyung spun on his heels, offering a broad palm to help her up, a change of clothes tucked under his other arm. With a shaky grip, she took it, trying to catch eye contact, but the Kodiak hybrid avoided it.
“Tae…” Y/N began, feeling like the conversation wasn’t quite over, and she refused to let go of his hand even when he tried to pull away. “We–”
“Thank you for breakfast, you were right, it made me feel better. I’m going to shower, though,” Taehyung cut her off, squeezing her hand tightly before releasing it. “I’ll come down after… I’ll quit hiding, so stop worrying about me, please.”
“Oh, Tae–!” Y/N wasn’t fast enough, Taehyung’s hybrid strength and speed apparently returning to him, and he disappeared into his bathroom with a click of a lock, leaving her reeling in his bedroom, her palm tingling from his touch still.
Absently, she collected Taehyung’s half-eaten breakfast, and when she heard the shower turn on, it prompted her to leave the room, wondering if anything was accomplished by that conversation, if he truly would stop avoiding her, and how he knew about Yoongi’s feelings for so long. Humming sadly, she set her destination to the kitchen, thoughts still occupied with the flash of hurt in Taehyung’s eyes.
“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing, wolf?” Jeongguk shouted from the booth in the back of the old van, Y/N cringing in the passenger seat beside Namjoon, who had very sharply turned onto a side street. “Judas priest, try not to hit the curb.”
“Be quiet,” Namjoon barked back, pushing the pair of glasses he was wearing up his nose bridge. Y/N had gotten him blue light glasses so he wouldn’t burn his retinas while he was crouched over her laptop researching for hours on end. “You can’t even drive in general, so can it.”
Giggling into her palm, Y/N admired her wolf hybrid while he glanced at the GPS on his phone. His silver hair was parted and swept back neatly, and was wearing Y/N’s favorite sweater he owned, a cream cable-knit scoop neck. She tried her best to not ogle him too much, but the sight of his strong, tanned hands wrapped around the steering wheel and perched on the gear shift had her slightly squirming in her seat.
“Are we almost there?” Jeongguk, in fact, did not shut up, the sound of his thumb flicking a lighter making Namjoon’s bitten ear twitch.
“Excited, sweets?” Y/N tossed over her shoulder, adjusting the hem of her plaid skirt, Jeongguk snorting, though Y/N caught him twirling a pen between his fingers and tapping his foot eagerly. Jeongguk had also gone out of his way to look nice that afternoon, opting for a loose charcoal button-down and normal dress pants rather than his usual casual gothic attire.
“Please,” Jeongguk muttered, his voice muffled by the cigarette pursed between his lips. Y/N felt her mouth water, the elk hybrid’s hair beginning to grow in a way that made him look like a 50’s style greaser, complete with the shiny gel. “The possibility of interacting with paranoid humans all afternoon isn’t exactly enthralling.”
Rolling her eyes, Y/N focused back on the road in front of her, not taking Jeongguk seriously at all. Jeongguk talked a big game, and certainly appeared intimidating with his glare, tattoos, and piercings, but deep down he was just as passionate about his interest in the paranormal as Namjoon was.
“You guys will get your first paycheck by the end of the week, isn’t that awesome? I mean, if we can wrap up the investigation and cleansing by then,” Y/N changed the subject, rolling her window down (manually, with a crank) to filter out Jeongguk’s cigarette smoke, Namjoon grumbling about the frigid temperature.
“Are you sure it’s legal for us to get paid?” Jeongguk asked incredulously.
“Uh, good question,” Y/N admitted, watching Namjoon’s hands tense around the steering wheel. “One for Ben.”
“Says we’ll be there in three minutes,” Namjoon pointed to the GPS, Y/N leaning forward in her seat to get a good look at the suburban street they were driving down.
It was just an average looking neighborhood in Newton, about twenty minutes from their own home, the houses sleepy Victorians and sidewalks studded with ancient trees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, even when Namjoon parked his van outside of a little blue house shrouded by great oak trees.
“Is this it?” Y/N leaned across her armrest to check out the front of the building, squeaking out an apology when Namjoon jerked in his seat from the proximity, her cheek smacking into his chest. “Shit, sorry Joonie.”
“No, it’s the post office. Why else would he park here?” Jeongguk flicked the back of her head, Y/N flinching when one of his icy silver rings made her scalp smart. “Let’s go, we’re late.”
Muttering, Y/N massaged the back of her head, hearing the elk hybrid rummage around behind her for his bag, Namjoon unfastening his seatbelt with an apologetic grimace. Ever since she had scolded the wolf hybrid for speeding, he began going under the speed limits. The man was never really one for gray areas, moving from one extreme to another.
Pulling her coat closer around her body, Y/N jumped out of the old van, clutching her notebook to her chest and expelling a deep breath. While Namjoon locked up, she tucked the dangling wires to his Walkman deeper into his bookbag, snorting softly at the excited twitch to his tail.
Once in front of the door to the home, Y/N rang the doorbell, feeling the delicious heat of her two hybrids behind her like a solid wall. She hadn’t been that excited for an event in a while, even though it involved the unknown and people in trouble– the chance to spend one-on-one time with Namjoon and Jeongguk had her bouncing on her toes while she waited for the door to open.
Moments later, the heavy door creaked open, a thin, short woman appearing in the darkened threshold, a screen storm door separating her from the three lingering on her porch. The woman took in the sight in front of her with darting eyes, which had purplish circles beneath them, her hair a bit unkempt and hands shaking as she placed one of them on the handle to the storm door.
“Are you… Y/N?” The woman asked, her voice small, scratchy, and weary.
“Yes, are you Ms. Sanders? I work for Judy, I’m taking over her home consultations. She sent me all of the information you gave her about the situation in your home,” Y/N hoped that the woman would invite them in soon, the wind was biting and she could sense Jeongguk’s impatience without having to look at him.
“Please, come in,” Ms. Sanders– Erika, Y/N remembered her first name from the packet– pushed the remaining barrier between the outside and the apparently haunted house aside, Y/N promptly stepped into the house once the woman moved. “Also, please excuse the mess. I haven’t had much time to, um, clean up, lately.”
Namjoon shut the door behind him once everyone was inside, Y/N sneaking a peek at him sniffing the air with a thoughtful expression, Jeongguk looking awkward and unconfident, for once. Contrary to what Erika said about the state of her home, things seemed tidy, eerily so, and in the small den that they were led to, nothing seemed out of place, just lonely.
“I’d like to introduce you to my two hybrids, they’re here to help, as well. This is Namjoon, he’s very knowledgeable about all things paranormal, actually, all things in general,” Y/N gestured to her wolf hybrid, who exuded the confidence that Jeongguk seemed to be lacking. “And this is Jeongguk. He’s worked with a paranormal investigative group and has years of experience. Both of them successfully helped me rid my own home of an entity.”
“Y-yes, Judy mentioned that she’d be sending a team here for me,” Erika eyed the two hybrids standing behind Y/N like bodyguards, Y/N comforted by both of their contrasting scents in an unfamiliar place; floral honey and leathery smoke. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get anyone anything to drink?”
Y/N shook her head, the two hybrids following suit, sitting on her either side on the lumpy sofa in the living room. Y/N had to admit, there was a hair-raising, peculiar feel to the energy in the home, one that set her teeth on edge. Definitely different from the way it felt in her own house, Y/N could tell Jeongguk could sense it too, his dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.
“So, Ms. Sanders–”
“Please, just Erika is fine,” she sat on the sofa across from Y/N and her two hybrids, her frame sagging tiredly. The woman watched Namjoon methodically place his Walkman onto the coffee table, feeding a blank tape into the device. “Should I get the kids?”
“Actually, we were thinking that getting your explanation of what’s been going on first would be best. That way we can compare each family member’s experience to one another,” Y/N held her hands up, Erika halting her movements to rise from her seat, definitely a little bit jittery.
“Would it be okay to tape the interviews so I can review them later?” Namjoon addressed the young mother suddenly, his fingertip hovering over the record button and ears forward and alert.
“I’d let you film and broadcast on national television if it gave you an edge over whatever has been tormenting my family,” Erika insisted, Namjoon raising a brow but pressing down on the record button anyways, angling the device closer to the woman so the microphone would better pick up her voice. “So, where should I start?”
“How about when you first noticed things were becoming out of the ordinary. Nothing is too insignificant, so speak freely,” Y/N encouraged, Jeongguk leaning backwards on the couch beside her, ankle over knee, his journal opened up to a fresh page.
“Well, we moved here a little over a year ago. From Colorado. I separated from my husband and the kids and I needed somewhere safe to stay, far away… he’s an alcoholic, you see. My family is from Massachusetts, so I wanted to be near my folks god forbid my ex ever tried to come and find us…” Erika’s eyes became glazed over, Y/N trying not to react to her hybrids shifting and coiling in alert when a thump-thump-thump came from a wall behind the young mother, who apparently didn’t notice or was all too used to the sound. “Everything was normal, at first. The first six months here were perfect, idyllic, even.”
“When did that start to change?” Jeongguk spoke up for the first time, the tip of his pen tapping his lower lip. Erika glanced at Jeongguk, pulled from her reverie, and her expression became sharpened as if icy water was dumped over her head.
“It happened gradually. My son, Thomas, is non-verbal, but he started having nightmares eight months ago. He’d come into my room and climb into my bed, shaking. While he’s non-verbal, he’s always been quite independent and brave, so this struck me as odd– especially when the nightmares became a nightly thing. Unfortunately, I don’t know what his nightmares are about, because he’s refused to even write anything down about them, but I know they terrify him. That was the first instance of strange events, and he still has them almost every night.”
Y/N nodded, the sounds of Jeongguk hastily scribbling his notes down on the linen page of his notebook, and the crackling of the Walkman, filling the sad silence of the home. Y/N was reminded of her own nightmares that came with the haunting she experienced; the creature that chased her in her sleep, and the fear that crept down the notches of her spine had Namjoon scooching an inch closer to her subconsciously.
“After that, my Jules… She's always been a sort of flower child. But ever so slowly, that bubbliness has gone away, she’s been more introverted, edgy. I thought maybe it was just because she’s entering her teenage years, but she’s made some new friends at school. Ones that I’m not sure have the best influence on her.”
“How do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if there was some kind of entity Namjoon had learned about that was summoned when one makes shitty friends.
“They’re older than her, and whenever she hangs out with that group of kids, she’s out all hours of the night, ignoring her curfew,” Erika sighed, tearing her eyes from Jeongguk and shaking her head. “I’m not usually like this, I mean, my brother was goth growing up, so I’m more than used to the culture. But these kids are bad news, I know it. They’re less about music, politics, and fashion and more about teenage riot. Property destruction, drinking on the train tracks. Jules was never like that, so her sudden change in personality concerned me.”
“So, your daughter made a couple of friends who turned out to be punks, and her whole personality changed?” Jeongguk confirmed, though his usual condescending tone was absent. In fact, Y/N was very impressed by how much the elk hybrid reined in his attitude.
“I know what that sounds like, like I simply don’t care for her friends. But the more she hangs out with them, the darker her personality becomes,” Erika’s voice went rather quiet, now refusing to look towards Jeongguk at all.
“Sometimes, what ends up happening in a haunting involving children, particularly young teens, their moods are influenced heavily by whatever has attached itself to the teen’s home or even the teen themselves. There’s a chance that your daughter acting out, especially in a way that you disapprove of to provoke a reaction, is not due to her new friends, but instead, it’s something above her control entirely.”
Namjoon’s insight had Y/N blinking in surprise. Instantly, she felt a little sheepish about that shock, as she knew he had been doing extra research for the past several days– not to mention his lifetime of knowledge he was already sitting on– but it was impressive to hear him relay information like that. Y/N recalled how Seokjin had mentioned Namjoon was different in group settings outside of the home, more vocal. Perhaps that’s what her wolf hybrid was like at the book club, take-charge and confident. Y/N thought that Jeongguk would be more like that, but she was equally surprised by the elk hybrid’s quiet observations.
“So, you think the… ghost, or whatever, is what’s causing Jules to behave so differently?” Erika chewed on her lip, the thump-thump-thump sound returning, this time overhead, Y/N trying her best not to react. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeongguk jot something down urgently. “I mean, she won’t even talk to me. I don’t even know if she’d be willing to talk to you.”
With that, Jeongguk sat forward, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling the fabric up over his forearms. Raising an eyebrow at him, Jeongguk’s eyes flickered playfully in her direction, sticking his pen behind his ear.
“Is there any chance Julie’s friends look like me?” Jeongguk drawled, again, without any judgment, miraculously. Erika appeared embarrassed, nodding slightly.
“I–I mean, without antlers, of course b-but I didn’t mean to insinuate–”
“It’s alright, Ms. Sanders,” Jeongguk held up his tattooed hand indifferently, rising to his feet. “Julie might be more willing to open up to someone who shares a similar… aesthetic. The wolf, here, is too granola-crunchy, and Y/N certainly has more questions for you.”
Namjoon growled lightly beside Y/N, staring at the elk hybrid resentfully. To her wolf hybrid’s dismay, she was once again agreeing with Jeongguk.
“You think she’d be…? I mean, if you can get anything from her, please, try. I just want to know if she’s, um, as scared as we are. Her brother and I. If she’s seen things like us,” Erika, too, stood, her movements wobbly and frail. “I can show you to her room, ask if she’s up to meeting you. She knows that I’m having this consultation, anyways.”
“Ms. Sanders, Y/N and I are going to take a quick walk around the property while you and Jeongguk speak with Julie. When you return, I’d like to ask you about specific instances of activity,” Namjoon hooked a large hand around Y/N’s elbow, manhandling her to a stance, pausing the tape recording. Without even glancing his way, Jeongguk caught the Walkman Namjoon sent hurtling towards his head, the two of them having an unspoken plan already, apparently.
The young mother nodded, ushering Jeongguk up the narrow staircase to the second level of the home, Y/N spluttering as Namjoon dragged her outside, his grip strong as always, but tender and steadying. Heart racing, she grit her teeth at the nasty wind chill that greeted them once they were on the lawn, and naturally, Y/N clung as close as she could to Namjoon’s side without him growing uncomfortable.
“Why are we–?” Y/N began, Namjoon leading her to his van, letting go of her elbow once he yanked open the passenger seat, rummaging through his disorganized glovebox. “Joon.”
“Hold on, Y/N,” Namjoon mumbled, barely noticing that she was stuck to his back like a jetpack to shield from the bitter cold, teeth beginning to chatter. “I have an idea.”
Finally, he turned, his burnt honey eyes the only whisper of warmth amongst the gray of the sky, holding an array of objects in his arms; what appeared to be two, long, L-shaped pipes, a spool of red fabric ribbon, and a couple of packets, by the looks of it.
“Whatcha got there?” Y/N snorted, loving how much Namjoon was getting into the whole situation.
“Here,” Namjoon ignored her question, shifting everything but the little packets into one arm, taking one of her wrists, and aggressively shaking the pouches with a concentrated expression.
In the palm of her gloved hand, Namjoon placed a hand warmer in the center of it, promptly manipulating her wrist into the pocket of her coat, and repeating the same process with the other hand. Stunned, she stared at her wolf hybrid and registered the out-of-character action like she was a third party looking on, and Y/N wondered if the pink hue of his human ears blossomed because of the wind or bashfulness.
“Have you ever heard of dowsing rods, or people using them during paranormal investigations?” Namjoon asked after clearing his throat, turning again to lock up his van and break eye contact.
“Um, vaguely. I might have seen them use them on Ghost Adventures,” Y/N managed to choke back, the hand warmers keeping her fingertips toasty in her pockets. “Is that what those poles are?”
“Yeah. I figured we could just take a quick walk around the house with these, and we can mark areas that show any sort of reaction with the ribbon tied around a tree. While I handle the rods, you can try and read the energy beside me,” Namjoon motioned for her to follow him back up the driveway, thoughtfully reading her skeptical reaction. “I know you’ve been working on your energy readings lately, Y/N. You can do it, I believe in you.”
It was Y/N’s turn to be bashful upon hearing those words from her wolf hybrid. Namjoon’s approval was something that was hard-won, so the encouragement and praise had her floating straight up into the clouds. With those words, she thought she could probably scale a mountain if he was by her side.
Without hesitation, she trailed after Namjoon, curiously watching him shift the metal rods in his hands, and when they reached the side of the house where a large window looked into the living room, the wolf hybrid paused. Shivering, Y/N felt unease well up in her gut, the sensation of one thousand ancient eyes on her causing her skin to crawl. There was definitely something there, lingering around that window, perhaps in the brush, and judging by the movements of the rods in Namjoon’s hands and the frown on his face, he was coming to the same conclusion.
Saying nothing, Y/N simply sticking close to Namjoon as they made a slow circle around the yard, she concentrated on opening herself up to the energies of the backyard as much as she could, without risking attachment or harm. Namjoon was right, her practice was paying off, because she was starting to get a better sense of the types of entities that were lingering in the yard alone.
“Okay, get anything?” Namjoon asked, once they had landed back to the side of the building they first began canvassing, using his sharp teeth to tear a strip of red ribbon from the spool he was holding. “This window here seems to be the hotspot, but the house feels like it’s almost shrouded in something…”
“I think we’re dealing with more than one entity here,” Y/N admitted quietly, while Namjoon tied a knot around a little sapling under the window. “I felt a few different energies. Only one, in this particular spot, made me uncomfortable. Like I’m being watched. The others felt more organic, human.”
“And that’s just out here,” Namjoon added, but it sounded like he was talking mostly to himself. “Come on, let’s head back in. Jeongguk is done talking to the girl already.”
Absently, Namjoon reached backwards, one of his hands still adjusting the ribbon on the sapling, his fingers wiggling as he searched for Y/N’s grip. Mouth dropping open, she automatically slid her gloved hand into his, listening to his chest rumble as the residual heat from the hand warmers melted into his chilled skin. Never one to deny Namjoon his rare moments of actively seeking out any sort of affection, Y/N soaked in the moment as best she could.
“You still have that list of questions to ask?” Namjoon held her hand tightly as she walked up the ice-slick concrete steps into the house, so she wouldn’t slip.
“Uh-huh. We’ll probably be able to wrap up the consultation afterwards, schedule the investigation. With the energy I’ve felt so far, I think it’s best we get in here as soon as we can to clear it out.”
Back inside, Namjoon let her go, and the first thing Y/N registered was the teenage girl that was now sitting in the living room, beside Jeongguk, her hands tangled in her lap. Exchanging a sideways glance with Namjoon, she hurried into the room, taking a seat next to Erika and her son, Thomas, who had also chosen to join the consultation. Y/N noticed that the young boy was holding onto a plastic toy robot tightly, like someone was going to take it away from him.
“Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s going to help us,” Erika smoothed a hand down her son’s back, the kid blinking at Y/N in acknowledgement, similar dark circles under his eyes that mirrored his mother’s. Her heart broke, in consequence. “That’s the wolf hybrid I was telling you about, too, honey. Namjoon is his name. Tommy loves wolves.”
Tommy, indeed, was staring at Namjoon with stars in his eyes, squirming in his seat, Erika affording all of them a tender smile for the first time Y/N and her two hybrids had stepped foot into the home. Namjoon, embarrassed, sat on Jeongguk’s free side, offering Tommy a little wave, one of his sharp incisors biting down on his plush lower lip.
“Alright, kiddo, she’s probably got a few questions for you. She’s cool,” Jeongguk set Namjoon’s Walkman back onto the coffee table, Y/N’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline as the elk hybrid used the nickname he usually saved for her on the teenager that only seemed to be at ease because of the burly hybrid beside her.
Getting a good look at Julie, Y/N felt herself take a step backwards in time, the girl looking quite a bit like she did as a teenager; dark eyeliner, graphic band tee, chipped nail polish and holes in the knees of her skinny jeans. Julie regarded Y/N carefully, only after shooting a doubtful look at Jeongguk, then a resentful one at her mother, the girl’s dark eyes narrowing a tad.
“She’s how you described her,” was all Julie said, the corner of her mouth curling up in amusement as Y/N tried not to clench her fists– leave it to Jeongguk to offer up a sarcastic caricature.
“Hey, Julie, nice to meet you,” Y/N ignored Jeongguk’s smug, shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself that he was able to get Julie to be comfortable around them. “I do have a few more questions before we go ahead and plan the investigation. Which, when the three of us do conduct the investigation, you and your family will be safe and sound staying at a nearby hotel.”
“You’re not planning on instigating angry spirits, like those quacks on TV, are you?” Julie crossed her arms across her chest with a scowl, several brightly colored rubber bracelets around her wrists. Namjoon was busying himself with straightening out spare blank tapes on the table– he was always a little bit awkward around children.
“No way. That’s all Hollywood, anyways,” Y/N resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Jeongguk, who was biting down on his fist to prevent laughing, which Y/N found both unprofessional and annoying as a gnat in her ear. “We just want to help get rid of whatever is bothering you. I’m sure Jeongguk told you a little bit about what was hanging around our house a few months ago… we were able to banish it permanently. I, and I’m positive my teammates as well, have no interest in provoking spirits for any kind of viral recognition.”
Y/N tasted the word “teammates” on her tongue like a saccharine hard candy, after all, it was the first time she was using it in reference to the sort of operation she had created with Namjoon and Jeongguk. Neither of them seemed to notice the significance, but both of them sobered with her words, nodding in agreement. Jokes aside, the situation was serious, and helping the family was top priority– thirst for knowledge and experience aside. Julie seemed to relax in response to Y/N’s promise, and without further ado, Y/N waited for Namjoon to start up the tape again, and she launched into her list of questions.
“Has the spirit ever shown itself physically to any of you?”
On the way back home from the Sanders’ residence, Y/N felt her frame sagging into the worn leather seat beside Namjoon, the tense of the house energy dissolving the further Namjoon drove from the address. She was ready for a hot bath and some mindless television, having more than enough of the paranormal for one day. A bit loopy, Y/N focused on the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, the shape of it a cartoon flying saucer.
“So the mother has seen a shadow in the hall at night, usually when she gets off from work. Then we had the kid point at the window, which Y/N mentioned feeling like an entity watches the family from there–”
“Jeongguk, you can take notes silently,” Namjoon sighed, probably sensing how exhausted Y/N was, even over the folk tape he was playing quietly and Y/N’s attempts to stay awake by pinching her thigh periodically.
“Fuck off,” Jeongguk muttered, but lapsed into silence anyways. Y/N stole a look at him over her shoulder, and he was lazily propped up on his side in the booth, a pen cap sticking out of his mouth while he scanned his notes.
Namjoon had cleaned up the van in preparation for their journey to the Sanders’, stacking his books neatly and moving most of them up to the loft where the mattress was, considering it was not being used. He even brought in a few blankets and pillows to make things a little more comfortable, one of the throws currently over her lap. Y/N, as well, added her own touch to the van– upon the wolf hybrid’s insistence– and taped little battery-operated fairy lights around the ceiling of the vehicle. In the short few days the three of them made the van ready for longer trips, Y/N had grown quite fond of spending time in there, and her and Hoseok had coined it the “mystery van”.
“Joonie?” Y/N spoke suddenly, her voice definitely weary but catching the wolf hybrid’s attention nonetheless, his ears perking up cutely even with his eyes still trained on the road.
“Mmm?” Namjoon pushed his glasses up his nose again, turning down the radio.
“How did you get this van?” Y/N dared to ask. She hadn’t done much prying into Namjoon’s past, heeding the advice in her wolf hybrid guidebook to let him present information when he’s ready, but since he had softened up so much, she figured asking wouldn’t do too much harm.
“It was given to me,” Namjoon replied cryptically, though Y/N was pleased enough that he actually answered her to not pout about how little that was revealed. “Shortly before you adopted me. In Wyoming.”
“Did you teach yourself how to drive?” Y/N figured she might as well go along with it if Namjoon was okay with that line of questioning, and didn’t seem peeved she was being curious.
“No, someone taught me,” Namjoon’s lips were twisted up in amusement, casting a brief look in her direction. “Some things can’t be learned from books.”
“Ah, I see,” Y/N didn’t want to push her luck, wiggling further into her seat to get comfortable. She had about one thousand follow-up questions, but she had all the time in the world to get answers from Namjoon.
“I lived alone most of my life, in the woods, abandoned cabins. I never liked to stay in one place, mostly because I avoided running into humans… I came across this van deep in Yellowstone park one night in the spring a few years back, the awning was out, and an old woman was sitting in a lawn chair in front of a campfire. I’m not sure how she managed to spot me, but she did,” Namjoon shocked Y/N by actually launching into a story, her mouth agape and even Jeongguk’s furious notetaking had ceased. “I hadn’t had a real meal in… well, ever. She offered me some dinner. At that point in my life, I didn’t trust humans as far as I could throw them. But I could smell her sincerity.”
Y/N had no idea what to say in response. An innocent question turned into a whole lot of background on her wolf hybrid, and she didn’t know whether to begin recording him or stay statue-still.
“Her name was Joan. Most of the stuff in here is hers, she had quite an interest in UFOs and ‘mythical’ creatures. Over the next few weeks, I’d check in on her… she was quite old, and by herself, and I suppose having access to real food was tempting to me as well. I’d listen to her prattle on about things she’s seen in the woods, I’d share things that I had experienced in the wilderness over the years,” Namjoon continued, turning the windshield wipers on when a flurry of snow began to fall. “After a few weeks, I trusted her enough to take her up on the driving lessons, joining her on her trips to town for provisions. I didn’t live with her, but I’d spend time there every few days.”
“Did you steal an old lady’s camper van?” Jeongguk exclaimed from the backseat, a throaty growl coming from Namjoon in consequence.
“No, you asshole. There were a couple of weeks where I’d go to the van, but she wasn’t there. It was confusing, like she had just vanished, but I wasn’t so attached to her that I was overly concerned. While she was old, she was still a decent hiker. I guessed she had just taken a tent and gone for a little trip,” Namjoon turned off the highway, taking the ramp that would bring them back into their town.
“I was wrong. The last time I went to check on her, the van door was open, but there was someone else inside. Thinking it was an intruder, I took a look inside, but I recognized the younger woman from pictures Joan had, it was her daughter. Her daughter told me that Joan had checked herself into the hospital following up on her heart condition, but it was too late. She died within three days of being in the hospital, heart failure,” Namjoon frowned, ears flattening to his skull. “The daughter said Joan mentioned me. Wanted me to have the van. The daughter had no use for it, anyways… She was just collecting some photos. She said I could have it, gave me the keys, and I never saw her again. It was convenient, so I just started living in here.”
Ears ringing, Y/N couldn’t believe how much she had gotten from Namjoon with just a few questions, and she felt somewhat guilty that she hadn’t tried to get closer to him in that way, blindly following advice from a stupid guidebook. That aside, her heart swelled a few sizes; if Namjoon felt comfortable enough to share all of that with her and Jeongguk, he had really come a long way since his initial adoption.
“I’m sorry about Joan,” was the first thing Y/N could think of as any sort of coherent reply, putting her hand over Namjoon’s that was resting on the gear shift and squeezing. “She must have liked you quite a bit to leave you this van.”
“I suppose,” Namjoon agreed, letting Y/N keep her hand on top of his, navigating his way through the town square. “She probably just preferred someone keeping all of her stuff safe after she died.”
“What made you want to come all the way to New England?” Jeongguk’s voice was suddenly right beside Y/N’s ear, making her flinch and push his shoulder. He was squatting between her and Namjoon, staring out the windshield with boredom, and a piece of gelled hair sticking to his forehead. The elk hybrid ignored Y/N’s pleas to sit down for safety, much to her chagrin.
“History,” Namjoon shrugged, shutting off the GPS once the familiar streets of their suburb were in view. “I wanted to see what a city was like. New York City seemed too big, and Boston is certainly historical. Plus, I had never seen the ocean before.”
“Weren’t you originally from Los Angeles, Jeongguk?” Y/N changed the subject, emotions welling up in her. As time went on, it was clearer and clearer to her that she and her seven hybrids, by some cosmic intervention, were destined to be together, considering they had come from all over the country at the same time.
“Yeah. Shithole,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, using a wrist to smack a fresh pack of cigarettes against. Before she could ask him what he meant, Namjoon pulled into the driveway, the sky turning lavender as the sun disappeared over the bare willow trees. “I’m starving. Want a drink.”
Jeongguk straightened up, snatched his notebook from the booth he left it on, and with a flick of his lighter, was jumping out of the van and into the snow.
“Guess he had enough of us,” Namjoon remarked, unfastening his seatbelt and stretching his arms upwards, his shoulders popping with the movement. Snorting, Y/N shook out her stiff legs, folding the blanket over her lap and gathering her tote bag.
“He’s bratty when he’s hungry,” Y/N smirked, waiting for the wolf hybrid to lock up the van before heading to the house. “Maybe I should order pizza tonight, unless Yoongi made something already.”
Namjoon sniffed the air, shaking his head.
“No, nothing’s cooking. Just the fire in the living room is going,” Namjoon matched his stride with Y/N, his tapes and Walkman tucked under his arm. “Order pizza, I can tell you’re tired. The energy work must have taken a bit out of you.”
Preening under Namjoon’s observation, she stared at the snow-dusted grass, feeling closer to him than ever.
“Yeah, I think I’m going to take a bath before dinner. Put some cleansing herbs and salt in the water just to make sure nothing from the Sanders’ house is clinging to me,” Y/N watched Namjoon unlock the front door with the house key he kept in his pocket, her own hands reaching up to dust snow collecting on his shoulders.
“Good idea,” Namjoon let Y/N into the house first, Y/N sighing at the cozy heat and ambient lighting. “Thanks, by the way.”
“Huh?” Y/N spun on her heel, gawking at the wolf hybrid, who was blushing.
“For including us in these investigations,” Namjoon said simply, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek.
“Oh,” Y/N blinked, pausing in front of Namjoon’s bedroom door. “I don’t think I would, or could do it without you two.”
Namjoon’s ears were a vibrant shade of red by now, and with that final comment, he ducked his head, mumbling something about reviewing the tapes before dinner. She let him disappear into his bedroom, and in a sort of daze, Y/N found her way to her own room, opening up her notes app to find the pizza order document with a grin.
February had finally rolled around, and as Hoseok and Y/N both dreaded, it was colder than January. At the very least, the sun was staying up later and later, to her relief, but there had never been so much snow in recent years. She was up to her ears in shoveling the walkways, scraping ice off of the cars, and making sure there was plenty of salt and gravel on the well-walked areas of her yard. That particular afternoon, the first Tuesday of the month, Alice happened to have a day off from the newspaper, and offered to swing by for a bit to catch up.
“Where is everyone?” Alice accepted a hot chocolate from Y/N, sitting in the breakfast nook, glancing at the noticeably hybrid-free kitchen.
“Taehyung officially got his driver’s license recently, he took himself, Yoongi and Hoseok up to the rec center to sign up for the spring activities. Jimin’s out with the horses, Jeongguk and Namjoon I think are in the van researching some equipment we need to order for the investigation in a couple of weeks,” Y/N slid into the booth beside her friend, blowing the steam from her own hot chocolate. “Seokjin got roped into joining Hoseok. He pretty much got dragged out of here.”
“So what you’re saying is, no one will hear us if we talk shit?” Alice grinned, Y/N already knowing what direction the conversation was going to take before Alice said another word. “Spill. You have a glow, so things must have worked out with Yoongi.”
“Between him and I? Yeah,” Y/N grew a bit shy, even if Alice knew pretty much everything about her already. Except for the fact that she had fallen for all of the hybrids, not just Yoongi, and that fact was something she was ready to share with her best friend once and for all. “Some of the others? Not so much.”
“Oh no. Tell me,” Alice scooched closer to Y/N, her arm slung around her shoulders comfortingly.
“Basically, the rest of them caught Yoongi and I in the kitchen in a… compromising position, and that’s how they found out about us,” Y/N grimaced, Alice gasping.
“No way. You weren’t fucking in here–”
“Christ almighty Jesus! No,” Y/N squawked, blood pooling in her cheeks. “We were just kissing. I’m not that much of an adrenaline junkie!”
“Okay, I was gonna say, Y/N. Way to go,” Alice snorted, taking a merry sip of her hot chocolate. “So I’m guessing a handful of them weren’t stoked about walking in on that.”
“Actually, the ones I thought were going to be weird about it were totally fine,” Y/N chewed her lip thoughtfully, aware that Alice wasn’t too familiar with the nuances of each hybrid’s personality. “Jimin and Taehyung were really disappointed that I felt I couldn’t confide in them. Jimin has forgiven me, but Taehyung still seems a little off, even if he insists he’s cool with it. He asked me recently if Yoongi was ‘treating me well’.”
“Damn. He sounds jealous,” Alice leaned back with a wag of her eyebrows. “What I know about hybrids, especially the types you’ve adopted, they can get hella territorial. Maybe it's his instincts screaming at him to protect you.”
“Could be,” Y/N muttered, her cheeks getting even hotter at the thought. “Then there’s Seokjin. He hasn’t addressed it at all, it’s like he’s pretending it’s not even happening. He used to be the clingiest, but now it’s rare he’ll initiate any kind of physical contact at all.”
“Again, babe. Sounds like jealousy. I remember Seokjin, he stuck to you like a starfish and looked at you like you hung the moon. He’s probably in denial,” Alice frowned, watching Y/N’s expression become stormy. “What’s wrong? You have that look on your face like you’ve left something out.”
“Alice, it’s not just Yoongi I’ve fallen in love with,” Y/N rubbed her temples, deciding to just bite the bullet already. “It’s all of them.”
There was a beat of solemn silence, and Y/N could almost smell the wheels in her best friend’s head turning. Alice tightened her hold around Y/N’s shoulders, the smell of her caramel perfume wrapping her up in a deeper hug.
“I had a feeling,” Alice admitted quietly, squeezing Y/N once again. “That’s why you feel guilty that those three are keeping their distance.”
“Mm-hmm,” Y/N felt the hot chocolate go sour in her stomach, though she should have known that Alice had caught on by now. Y/N wasn’t exactly subtle with her heart-eyes around the boys, even with others present. “I talked to Ben about it. I know it’s high school for me to say, but I’m so uncomfortable with the idea of confessing to any of them myself. The possibility of rejection is scary, of course, but seeing how much the boat was rocked when they found out about Yoongi and I…”
“I don’t have to tell you this, babe, but this isn’t something you can run from forever. I think all you can do is take it one step at a time… if you were to sit everyone down at once and admit your feelings to the six of them in one breath, I have a suspicion not a lot of them will take that confession seriously,” Alice mused slowly, Y/N already holding the same opinion. The last thing she wanted was to lump every confession into one sort of sit-down conference, for some reason, the potential scenario came off as cheap and rushed, to her.
“I just. I don’t even know who to start with. Maybe one of the boys that aren’t avoiding me like the plague,” Y/N said miserably.
“You know, there’s a chance one of them may come to you,” Alice encouraged, wanting to cheer up her friend. “You never know. Yoongi felt the same, maybe a few of the others have feelings for you, too.”
Perking up a little bit, Y/N let herself believe that for a few moments, imagining how nice it would be to be past all of the drama and confrontation, and simply living in love and harmony with all of her boys– like a storybook. Unfortunately, Y/N existed in reality and not between the pages of a children’s book, and she shook away the vision dancing around in her head quickly.
“I suppose we’ll see… Yoongi and I are still navigating how we act around the others, anyways. It’s a little tricky,” Y/N changed the subject slightly, knowing that Alice would be interested in some of the spicier things that had been going on in her life, rather than the tangled and complicated.
“I’m sure. If my man was half as sexy as your Yoongi, you’d need a crowbar to pry me off of him at any given moment,” Alice deadpanned, Y/N choking on a sip of her drink, Alice’s throaty laugh filling the empty kitchen. “How does that work, by the way? I mean, with hybrid hearing… have you guys even…?”
“Uh… yeah, we have,” Y/N shrunk down in her seat, embarrassed. “The music room is soundproof.”
“Y/N, you naughty girl! Wait, so like. Is that going to become like the Red Room like in 50 Shades? Like, you’re only going to fuck in there?” Alice, true to herself, brought some humor into the situation, Y/N giggling despite herself.
“I mean, no, I don’t think so,” Y/N managed through laughter, relieved to have some time with her friend and talk about such things. “As hot as it was… I mean we’re probably going to end up sleeping together in a bed at some point. I think it’s futile to pretend we’re not going to be intimate, the others aren’t stupid. I suppose I’ll just have to keep my sound level in check.”
“Okay, so clearly he doesn’t suck in bed, if that’s your response,” Alice teased, poking Y/N in the cheek. “Lucky lady. You do deserve it though, after all those years of The Great Dry Spell.”
“He’s perfect,” was all Y/N responded with, trying not to let her eyes glaze over with the memories of their tryst in the music room. “God. I’m sweating. Let’s talk about something else before I start chewing on the table.”
“I have an idea,” Alice straightened up after several moments of the girls laughing at Y/N’s fluster, taking up one of Y/N’s hands with mischief in her eyes. “Before you shoot it down, think about A) how fun it would be, and B), the potential amazing rewards.”
Making a motion for her to spit it out, Y/N braced herself for something ridiculous.
“You’d do this in small doses, of course– the fact that some of them seem to be jealous is evident. Why not tease them a little? Give Yoongi a kiss here and there in front of them, bat your eyelashes… I’m not saying be a menace with the PDA, but I think well timed PDA might coax one of them into slipping. I know you, if you had more of an idea that one of them had romantic feelings for you, you’d feel better about confessing. Just a thought.”
Y/N mulled that over while draining the rest of her mug, furrowing her eyebrows. That was the exact kind of scheme her, Alice, and Laura would pull when they were teenagers with their high school crushes, and usually, it worked like a charm. Now, however, Y/N felt a little funny about it.
“I don’t know… wouldn’t that be manipulative? Wouldn’t I be using Yoongi?”
“Y/N. Do you seriously think your leopard male hybrid who is in love with you would be upset that you kiss him in front of others? Hello? They’re all about possession. You’re not manipulating, either. Just think of it as a gentle kick in the ass for the others to sort out how they feel,” Alice rolled her eyes, Y/N regretfully realizing her friend was right.
“I’ll think about it. If it blows up in my face, though–”
“If it blows up in your face, I’ll take responsibility. It won’t though,” Alice collected the empty mugs, standing from the breakfast nook. “Alright, babe. We need to catch up on some Below Deck, and I want some dirty details about your man.”
Snorting, Y/N nodded, ready to have a couple of hours to gossip and watch trash reality with a girlfriend. She felt lighter, truly, that she told Alice how she felt about all of the hybrids, and was grateful that Alice not only offered her advice from a different point of view, but made her smile, too. As Alice dragged her to the parlor, Y/N wondered who she was in her past life to not only deserve her boys, but her friends, as well.
“Come on, Y/N, try it!” Hoseok attempted to grab Y/N by the ankle, his russet tail wagging happily as he teasingly pressed the ‘on’ button to his Hypervolt. “You’re being a wuss.”
“Hoseok. I have tried it. Last time you pressed that against the back of my neck without me knowing, I thought I was having a stroke,” Y/N was able to wrestle her ankle free from her fox hybrid’s grip, her ass sore from sitting on the rough surface of the rec center’s indoor track. “I’m not the one about to run a mile. Focus on your own calves.”
“Oh, please, just a couple of seconds,” Hoseok was too quick for her to evade his grabby hands for long, his strong, nimble hands clasping around her ankle again with a cheeky grin.
“Ho-seok,” Y/N groaned as soon as the vibrating tool dug into the meat of her calf, and regretfully, she was eating her words– after a few days of being on her feet at work, the sensation was delicious. “F-focus, honey. It’s the first meet of the season.”
“Yeah, so? You’re the only one who came. Even Jinnie abandoned me, reading his stupid books,” Hoseok ignored her plea to focus on his warm-up stretches, moving the Hypervolt further up her calf, Y/N praying she wouldn’t melt into a puddle of moans and groans at the sensation.
“They’re r-reading a Murakami book this w-week. Hoseok, stop!” Y/N weakly pushed his hands away, pouting at him. “It’s like almost 1,000 pages. He wasn’t doing it to spite you.”
“He could have read it here!” Hoseok countered, though obediently put his Hypervolt back into his gym bag and began to stretch out his quads in front of her. “Whatever. I’m only doing one event tonight, we'll be outta here in like an hour or so.”
“What do you want for dinner? We’ll pick up something on the way home,” Y/N pulled Hoseok’s number from his gym bag, shifting forward on her knees so she could pin it to his jersey tank.
“Chinese. I want a bucket of fried rice,” Hoseok replied without hesitation, Y/N making sure his mahogany waves were suitably held back by the sweatband around his forehead.
“That can be arranged,” Y/N agreed, squeaking in surprise when one of the announcers reminded the mile runners that they had ten minutes before they had to be at the starting line, Hoseok perking up. “Couple of questions for you?”
“Darling?” Hoseok cocked his head, nose twitching in her direction.
“Your birthday is this month. What would you like to do, my social butterfly? Wanna throw a party, or go somewhere specific? A club, a bar?”
Any trace of sly humor disappeared from Hoseok’s face in a flash, astonishment replacing it, before he ever-so-elegantly recovered, a neutral expression taking over.
“That’s a lot to think about. It’s still a little ways away, can I think about it?” Hoseok responded carefully, his hands coming up to rub his lean biceps.
“Think about it as long as you need. Unless you actually want to go to a club, I’ll have to book that ASAP,” Y/N leaned back on her palms, praying that his event would go by quickly so her ass wouldn’t be scraped up any further by sitting on the rough concrete. “Gift ideas, too. You like clothes, but you have a bunch of those already… we could go to a sports game? Or we could go to a music festival, I know you’ve been interested in that. There’s one next month here in Boston, I heard The Foo Fighters are headlining one of the days.”
“Y/N, that’s a lot to give a guy to think about before he has to perform athletically,” Hoseok whined, but Y/N could see embarrassment plain as day in his mocha eyes. “I’ll let you know, alright? Whatever you do for my birthday will be more than enough, though, without a doubt.”
Mouth open to reply, Y/N was cut off by a whistle blowing, Hoseok nimbly hopping to his feet, his cheeky, gorgeous grin back in place. He looked like a young god in his uniform, full of life and vigor, one that governed over the sun and daylight. Before she could speak, Hoseok used his hybrid swiftness to bend forward, pressing a light kiss to Y/N’s forehead at lightning speed.
“Wish me luck, my darling! Order some egg rolls for Jinnie while you’re at it, too, alright?” Hoseok winked, whistled his trademark, and jogged off towards the starting line, leaving Y/N wooden and staring after him.
Of course, Hoseok ended up winning– he had a streak, at that point, and was considered the star of the team, especially for his particular event. It was a shame, truly, that the rest of her hybrids didn’t want to be there to support the fox hybrid– but Y/N supposed with the near-weekly meets, it interfered with their own interests and hobbies. Besides, Y/N never missed a track meet, a basketball game, or a photography expo. Hell, if there were oral reports during her mother’s book club, she’d be there an hour in advance to hear whatever Seokjin and Namjoon had to say about a book she had never read.
The next day, Wednesday, Y/N was beat from work, after Judy had her totally rearrange the store’s inventory for the spring. There was enough leftover Chinese food for her and the hybrids to pick at for dinner over a marathon of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and by the time she dragged herself to bed, her eyes were nearly crossed. The only thing that prevented her from drooling into her pillow immediately was the sound of her phone chiming on her nightstand, Y/N grumbling and blindly reaching for it, tapping on the text notification.
Yoongi 👼🏻: can’t sleep : (
Y/N: sorry, angel 😭 something wrong? Need some tea?
Yoongi 👼🏻: no, just u
Yoongi 👼🏻: come up, stay with me?
Suddenly wide awake, Y/N sat up in bed like she was electrocuted, her heart hammering in her chest. Bunching her quilt up in her fists, she was torn– there was nothing she wanted more than to sleep with Yoongi, but she dreaded the thought of sneaking out of his room in the morning and stumbling into Seokjin, Taehyung, or Jeongguk on the second floor.
“Fuck it. We’re going with Alice’s plan,” Y/N muttered to herself, and as if on autopilot, she made her way to the second floor miraculously without turning on any lights.
Yoongi’s door was ajar, and it appeared that he was the only one still awake, lamplight only coming from his room, fortunately. Promptly, she slipped inside, chest rumbling in satisfaction when Yoongi’s scent filled her senses powerfully.
“That was fast for a little human,” Yoongi emerged from his bathroom, Y/N trying not to drool out of the side of her mouth with his bare chest on display. His sweats were slung low on his narrow hips, spotted tail curled around one of his legs, and Y/N suddenly felt exposed in her own tank-and-shorts pajama set.
“Do you want me to stay or not,” Y/N hissed, hands on her hips. Yoongi rolled his eyes, tongue poking into his cheek. The leopard hybrid shuffled over to his bed, dramatically collapsing onto it, his arms behind his head with a smirk. “Are you trying to smize your way out of a smartass remark?”
Y/N swallowed, her throat completely parched, dragging her eyes over his strong arms; the veins mapping his forearms, the pink tint to his bent elbows, the dark hair of his armpits. Briefly, Y/N internally cursed Yoongi for making her so whipped for him, she was attracted to armpits.
“Is it working? Smells like it is,” Yoongi lifted a brow, tongue swiping over his lower lip and a free hand reaching up to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. “Come here.”
“Yoongi. We’re just sleeping. You have a game tomorrow,” Y/N warned, though she lowered her knees to his mattress, crawling up the length of if so she could lay beside him. “Don’t seduce me.”
“Speak for yourself,” Yoongi accused, his eyes darkening as he watched her climb to his side. “Miss you.”
Y/N hummed, rolling onto her side, sticking her face into Yoongi’s neck, breathing in his cologne. Automatically, Yoongi began to purr, using one of his hands to grasp onto Y/N’s thigh, hooking it over his body. Her skin tingled where he touched her, especially when he began to trace shapes over her thigh, just below the hem of her shorts.
“Miss you too,” Y/N mumbled into his neck, planting a gentle kiss on the tender skin, Yoongi shivering beneath her. Already, her eyes felt heavy, tangled up with her lover, his soothing purrs like a sweet lullaby. “Turn off the light. Early morning.”
Grunting, Yoongi yanked on the chain to his lamp, plunging the room into darkness, Y/N sighing happily when he pulled his quilt up over the two of them. Y/N rested her palm over Yoongi’s heart, the steady beats of it beneath her touch comforting.
“Love you, baby,” Y/N whispered into the darkness, Yoongi’s tail wrapping around her waist, and she could tell he was already slipping into unconsciousness by the way he murmured the same sentiment back, slurred and heavy.
The next morning, Y/N pretty much had to push Yoongi off of her, his body on top of hers, cheek squished against her chest, his twitching ears tickling under her chin. He groaned and complained when she rubbed his back to wake him, and Y/N fought the urge to simply fall back asleep with him on top of her.
“Come on, you big kitty, gotta have some breakfast before the game,” Y/N wheezed as she managed to roll him onto his side, his long hair sticking up in the back. His eyes were still shut as he stumbled out of bed, making Y/N snort into her palm. Usually, Yoongi was one of the first hybrids up in the morning, but Y/N had never seen him before his first cup of coffee. “I’ll make something for you while you get ready.”
Yoongi frowned, not wanting to part with her yet, but she left his room with a grin as he shrugged on his jersey with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. No one else appeared to be up yet, all of the bedroom doors on the second floor still shut, so Y/N was able to tip-toe down the creaky staircase without a confrontation.
After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Y/N was writing a brief note to tell the others where her and Yoongi were that morning, they were off to the rec center, Y/N letting Yoongi drive there. The weather was cold and damp, but at least there wasn’t any snow coming down from the sky on their drive in, but Y/N barely felt the chill with Yoongi’s hand on her knee while he drove.
It wasn’t her first time in the rec center’s indoor gym, the floors buffed to a blinding shine and wooden bleachers surrounding the court, but because it was a new season, she felt like it was a different place. Once Y/N tied up Yoongi’s hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he was off to warm up with his teammates, and Y/N found a spot on the bleachers to watch the game. One eye on her leopard hybrid, she fumbled for her phone, which was buzzing away in her pocket. It was a notification of a reminder– in three days time, Valentine’s day, was the cooking class with Seokjin. Smiling a bit wistfully, she screenshotted the reminder, sending it to Seokjin over text.
Y/N: excited for our class!!
Seokjinnie 🌸: me too ≽^•⩊•^≼
Y/N: cute emoji omg! Is that supposed to be u?
Seokjinnie 🌸: ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡
Y/N flinched when Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle aggressively, promptly setting down her phone and getting ready to watch Yoongi play. He dropped into total concentration, listening to his coach with his lip tucked between his teeth, before getting into position and watching the coaches to a coin flip. She was getting lost in checking him out when she was rudely interrupted by someone saying his name– several feet from beside her.
“Number 54? Yeah, his name is Yoongi,” a high-pitched, girlish voice declared to her friend, and Y/N knew that she was gawking at them, but she wanted to know how she knew her leopard hybrid’s name. “Isn’t he hot?”
Y/N grit her teeth, realizing the two girls were actually hybrids, dressed in tennis skirts and both with canine sets of ears. Y/N recognized the uniforms they were wearing, belonging to the rec center’s tennis team, which means it was likely that they had seen Yoongi around before. Instantly, jealousy bloomed in her gut, and she had to tear her eyes from the two of them, fidgeting in her seat. She was pretty sure neither of the girls had noticed her staring at them, but she didn’t want to get caught, so she chose to discreetly eavesdrop instead.
“He’s super hot. Like a rockstar or something,” the second girl, the one with darker hair, agreed. “I heard he’s like the best player on the team.”
“For sure, that’s what Trixie said. She used to watch the basketball team practices last season just to see him play.”
Now, Y/N was absolutely positive she was filling the gym with the acrid scent of jealousy, but if the girls noticed, neither of them even looked in her direction. Y/N wasn’t stupid or blind, she knew how gorgeous and talented Yoongi was, but it was never fun to hear others fawn over one’s boyfriend. Gripping the bleachers tightly, Y/N tuned the hybrid girls out, focusing on Yoongi, who had already stolen possession of the ball.
Luckily, the game became a nail-biter, enough to distract her from the girls beside her. Y/N’s throat was hoarse from hollering Yoongi’s name, and she managed to get a pretty decent video of him scoring– by the end of the game, Y/N could barely speak, but Yoongi’s team had won. Before she could launch herself onto the court to give him a hug, he was pulled away by his teammates, who were thumping him on his back and pushing him towards the locker room. This made Y/N pout, but she knew that Yoongi would want to take a shower before they hit the road, so she busied herself on the phone, ignoring the giggles of the two hybrids beside her.
Hoseok 🦊: heads up, darling
Hoseok 🦊: we’re all heading out, taking the car. Errands to run!
Y/N: errands???
Hoseok 🦊: ye, ghostbusters need some equipment. Jinnie wanted to make something for dinner so gotta go to the store. The bear needs to pick up his photos while we’re there, and we’re dragging Jimin along so he can spend time with beings that AREN’T horses
Y/N: okay, thanks for letting me know foxy
Y/N: have fun, be safe, and think about plans for your birthday, pls!
Hoseok 🦊: i’ll make a list :3
“Ready to go?” Yoongi approached her, his hair damp and his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty room. When he was in front of her, a smirk on his face, the two girl hybrids stopped whispering, and Y/N knew that they were checking him out, and she didn’t like that one bit.
Pocketing her phone, she recalled her earlier jealousy, and apparently catching him off-guard, Y/N launched forward, jumping up into his arms with an oof coming from the back of his throat. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Y/N held him tightly, hiding her face in his neck.
“Whoa, I didn’t win the NBA finals,” Yoongi chuckled, using one arm around her lower back to keep her supported, his chest vibrating with purrs. “Sweetheart–”
She cut him off, cupping his face urgently, descending her lips on his in a powerful kiss. He made a feline noise of surprise, his mouth parting, and Y/N took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, trying to inject every ounce of passion she had into it. After a split second, Yoongi recovered, kissing her back, his arm tightening its hold on her. Not wanting to draw it out too much, her jealousy melting into sheepishness, she broke away with one last peck to his lower lip, Yoongi’s eyes full of surprise and delight.
“What was that for?” Yoongi asked, breathlessly, Y/N giggling like a schoolgirl as he lowered her back to the ground.
“What? I can’t kiss my man?” Y/N replied, parroting his sarcastic remark he had once made in front of Taehyung. Yoongi blinked, stunned out of a response, Y/N tucking a lock of hair behind his ear before tangling one of her hands with his. “Let’s go home, angel.”
Y/N didn’t even look at the two girls that were gaping at the pair of them, but she knew that they were so caught off guard, they forgot to “congratulate number 54 when he comes out of the locker room”. Smugly, she left the gym with Yoongi on her arm, and she realized once they got to the car: Yoongi didn’t even notice those two girls, his attention had been on her completely.
“Where’s the other car?” Yoongi frowned, pulling into the driveway carefully, never once letting go of Y/N’s hand.
“Hoseok took it out with everyone to run some errands. On the bright side, I don’t think either of us will have to cook dinner, Seokjin wants to make something tonight,” Y/N hopped out of the car, suddenly struck by the fact that the two of them were alone, which had her pulse speeding up.
“Ah. Giving us space,” Yoongi read her mind, chuckling. She stuck her tongue out at him while his back was turned, dragging his gym bag out of the backseat, and ditched him in the driveway to unlock the front door.
Y/N headed straight for the kitchen for a glass of water, lamenting the fact that it was still too early for a glass of wine. Bouncing around in her skull were not only images of Yoongi jogging up and down the court, commanding the respect and admiration of his teammates, but the sounds of the two hybrid girls gushing over him. Embarrassingly, Y/N felt her jealousy return, hardly noticing Yoongi in the foyer as she stomped up the stairs, scooping up his gym bag as she went. She thought perhaps doing something as mundane and mind-numbing as a load of laundry would help her get a grip.
Grumbling, she tossed Yoongi’s sweaty uniform into the wash along with Hoseok’s, adding a few more articles of the boy’s clothes from the mountain of dirty laundry in the corner of the little room. Eyes glazed over as she tossed laundry beads into the machine, she stared at the little chart taped to the wall, the one that she and Seokjin had created so laundry duty was tackled by a different housemate every day.
“What’s the matter?” Yoongi startled her in the doorway to the laundry room, making her whack a knee against the dryer with a cry.
“Nothing,” Y/N composed an innocent expression on her face, folding a pair of Jimin’s jeans and stacking them on the shelf.
“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice had a warning tone to it, Y/N cursing the hybrid ability to sniff out deceit. “You were fine just a second ago.”
“Why don’t you just take a whiff and guess,” Y/N grouched, Yoongi’s hazel eyes flashing. Without another word, Yoongi was pulling Y/N out of the laundry room with a tsk and a finger hooked in the pocket of her leggings.
“Fine,” Yoongi growled, pushing her against the wall in the hallway, pressing a knee between her legs and keeping her pinned with a hand flat on her hip. His face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N growing stiff as she felt his eyelashes brush her skin. “Ticked off. Insecure.”
Heart falling to her ass, Y/N squirmed against the wall, trying to get away from the leopard hybrid, humiliated beyond belief. Served her right for challenging a predatory male hybrid, in hindsight.
“Oh. Jealous,” Yoongi froze, drawing away from her throat, staring Y/N dead in the eye. “Why are you jealous, baby?”
Swallowing, Y/N shook her head, desperate to deny the accusation, but it was too late. She couldn’t weasel her way out of that situation, not with him pinning her down. Heart pounding in her chest, she shook her head.
“It’s nothing, Yoongi. Just forget it, I’m being stupid,” Y/N attempted to diffuse the situation, furious with herself that she had potentially spoiled the rare alone time that the two of them had.
“Is this about those girls sitting next to you at the game?” Yoongi asked incredulously, Y/N’s eyes widening a fraction. “Uh-huh. That’s a yes.”
“It’s dumb, but I can’t help it,” Y/N broke down with a whine, already feeling pitiful enough. “They were talking about how hot you are and how you’re the best player… ugh, it just triggered me I guess, you’re mine and I–”
Her words were stuffed back down her throat, because Yoongi’s mouth was on hers, hot and desperate, the force of the kiss causing her head to bump into the wall behind her. The hand that was on her hip moved, a forefinger and thumb pinching her chin to keep her in place, Yoongi already licking into her mouth with borderline abandon. Wide eyes slipping shut, Y/N released a ragged moan, her hands scrabbling to get a grip on his hoodie. Cocking his head, Yoongi bit down harshly on her lower lip, pressing his hips into Y/N’s before breaking away, his chest heaving.
“How could you think,” Yoongi began, interrupting himself by giving her another swift kiss, his eyes lidded. “That I’d even look at anyone but you?”
Y/N couldn’t respond; she was too distracted by Yoongi’s hand under her shirt, tracking a path up her abdomen, and his plush lips suckling the skin under her jaw. Gasping, she let go of his hoodie, hands pressing to the wall behind her, heat flooding through her system.
“If anyone should be jealous, it’s the other poor fucks who live with us,” Yoongi added roughly, bending to get a hold of her thighs, hoisting Y/N up into his arms, using his sharp incisors to nip at her collarbone. “They haven’t heard the noises you can make, haven’t tasted you…”
Y/N felt her head spinning as Yoongi carried her down the hallway, fisting a chunk of his long, inky hair tightly, the sound of Yoongi kicking his bedroom door open making her go limp in his arms.
Y/N yelped when Yoongi let her go, all but tossing her onto his bed, standing before her like a predator stalking its prey. In a wild turn of events, they both became possessed by lust, Y/N already feeling her core throb against the material of her underwear. Yoongi had a filthy mouth, she was already aware of that, but when he used it against her– she swore nothing was sexier.
“Don’t you know how I feel about you?” Yoongi rid himself of his hoodie, tossing it carelessly to the floor, swinging a knee over the mattress to cage Y/N beneath him. Y/N could only stare up at her beautiful leopard hybrid, his ears twitching with agitation, his silver chain dangling in front of her face. “Hmm? Love?”
“Y-yoongi,” Y/N breathed, overwhelmed. She reached up for him, hooking her hands around his neck, reveling in the quiet groan he made when she brought him down for a kiss, this one sweeter, more full of meaning, than the desperate lip-lock in the hallway.
“There’s my girl,” Yoongi murmured between kisses, probably smelling the love and affection she had for him rolling off of her in waves. Seizing the moment while he was lax above her, Y/N’s hands shot out, landing on his chest, sending the leopard hybrid sideways and onto his back, Y/N straddling his lap with a doped-up grin. “Fuck.”
Snickering, Y/N squirmed on his lap, watching his eyes roll back into his skull, his hands still on her outer thighs. Y/N couldn’t believe that she was as turned on as she was, trailing her fingertips over the smooth skin of Yoongi’s flushed chest, and further, she felt satisfaction fill her with the hardness she felt beneath her hips. Yoongi’s breath caught as one of her thumbs brushed over a nipple, his pupils dilating with pure want. Unable to help herself, she ducked down, mouthing at his chest, and experimentally, she grazed her lips over his nipple, Yoongi’s hips bucking up into hers with the action.
“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice came out strained, his hands squeezing her thighs painfully, one of them moving to tug on the back of her shirt, Y/N busy kissing a trail down his sternum.
“Yoongi,” Y/N returned, tracing the lines of his toned obliques, teeth scraping against his left pec.
Getting the hint once Yoongi yanked at her shirt once more, his other hand bruising the skin of her thigh, Y/N sat up, crossing her arms and pulling the material off of her torso, tossing it aside. She wasn’t exactly expecting to be in that position with Yoongi that afternoon, so regretfully, she was wearing a simple black bra, but Yoongi appreciated it with widened eyes nonetheless.
“Kiss me,” Yoongi requested, breathlessly, his hands trailing from her thighs to her bare waist, eyes nearly emerald with how much they had darkened. Not daring to disobey, Y/N fell forward, whimpering at the sensation of their torsos pressed together, cupping his jaw and giving him the kiss he asked for.
Not knowing where Yoongi ended and she began, she felt their legs tangling, Yoongi’s rough, jean-clad hips scraping against the soft material of her leggings, which were truthfully starting to become a little damp. Yoongi kissed the breath from her lungs, his tongue sensually rolling against hers, his purring chest pressed right up against hers.
“God, I–” Yoongi ground out, his form tensing beneath her when Y/N traced her tongue up the side of his neck, the taste of his sweat sweet on her tongue. “Fuck. Fuckin’ love you.”
“Love you more,” Y/N countered, directly in his ear, nipping at the shell of it, shuddering when his hands slid up her back, fingertips wiggling beneath the strap of her bra. With that statement, Yoongi grunted sharply, and before Y/N’s brain could process it, the world turned upside-down, the wind knocked from her lungs as she found herself underneath Yoongi again.
“None of that,” Yoongi smirked at her bewilderment, using a large hand to press over her mouth, his free hand ghosting over the center of her chest. A primal sort of glint took over his feline eyes, Y/N automatically opening her mouth to respond. Unfortunately, Yoongi was a step ahead of her. “Uh-uh.”
Y/N’s lips were pried open, two of Yoongi’s long, slender fingers pressing against her tongue. Two could play at that game, Y/N thought, her tongue swirling around the digits, hollowing out her cheeks. Frowning, Yoongi watched her expression grow coy, her legs wrapping around his waist.
“Smart mouth, should keep it filled,” Yoongi muttered acidically, pressing the pads of his fingertips more harshly into Y/N’s tongue, a tiny gagging sound coming from the back of her throat, making the tips of her ears burn. “Let’s get this off, huh, sweetheart?”
Unable to respond with his fingers stuffed in her mouth, Y/N watched helplessly as Yoongi slid a hand behind her back, unclasping her bra and pulling it off with a dark chuckle. One day, Y/N would learn not to provoke a hybrid, but honestly, the consequences didn’t seem to be so bad.
Finally pulling his saliva-slickened fingers from her mouth, Yoongi helped Y/N out of her bra, absently pushing the garment to the side so he could get a good look at her chest, a hand resting over her throat, feeling her pulse flutter erratically. Desperately, she was trying to pull him back down to her mouth with tugs to his belt loops, but Yoongi ignored her silent plea, both hands cupping her chest. Y/N arched into his touch with a soft cry, bringing his face down to kiss between her breasts, and in retaliation for earlier, used the rough pads of his thumbs to outline circles over her nipples.
“Hnngh,” Y/N winced, so sensitive his gentle touch was almost painful, Yoongi humming as he toyed with her chest, kneading the soft flesh in his hands, pinching one of her buds between his fingertips and pulling, rewarded by a heavy moan from Y/N. “Oh, b-babyy–”
Growing frustrated with the remaining barriers between himself and Y/N, Yoongi’s touch migrated to the waistband of Y/N’s leggings, using his strength to strip the article of clothing from her body, nearly passing out once he realized she wasn’t wearing panties beneath, her entire body bare beneath him.
“What are you doing to me,” Yoongi groaned, his jeans starting to choke the life out of his cock, and not in a good way. “Shit…”
“Need… n-need you,” was all Y/N could hiccup, completely exposed for him, but not feeling a single semblance of embarrassment about that. Tail curling behind him in mesmerizing shapes, Y/N gripped at his solid biceps pleafully.
“Needy thing,” Yoongi commented, sloppily kissing over the swell of her breast, enjoying the sounds of her helpless mewls. “God, I can smell you.”
Clumsily, Y/N tugged the zipper of Yoongi’s jeans down, yanking the fabric halfway down his legs, her breath coming out in pants as Yoongi laved his tongue over her nipple indulgently, hardly noticing she was trying to strip him. Gasping when he took the bud into his mouth, sucking and scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh, Y/N felt her thighs get tacky with moisture, impossibly turned on and wanting.
“Please, Yoongi, please. Fuck me,” Y/N wasn’t above begging at that point, far past the point of no return, Yoongi distractedly shucking off his jeans and slotting himself between Y/N’s parted legs. The weight of his hips against her bare core had her clenching around nothing, and she arched upwards to seek out the hardness in his boxers eagerly for any kind of friction.
Yoongi simply hummed at her request, releasing her nipple with a lewd pop, one of his hands tracing over her hip bone before he mercifully ghosted his digits over her dewy sex, a low hiss coming from the back of his throat when he realized how wet she was.
“Always so fuckin’ wet,” Yoongi teased, batting her hand away when she reached for his wrist, a drenched forefinger swiping through her folds. “All for me?”
“Uh-huh,” Y/N canted her hips upwards, chasing his touch, whining thinly when he just missed grazing her clit. “Please. Want you, want you inside of m-me.”
“Wanna taste you first,” Yoongi smirked devilishly, Y/N beginning to protest, just wanting to feel him, but he moved too quickly, and all Y/N could do was sink her hands into his long tresses, his face now eye-level with her cunt. “All of this, and I’ve hardly done anything.”
Too caught up at staring at his fucked-out expression, Y/N didn’t have time to feel embarrassed, Yoongi using his strong grip to maneuver her legs over his shoulders, making himself comfortable between her legs. Whether or not he noticed that her thighs were coated in her slick was beyond Y/N, and due to the position he had manhandled her into, she couldn’t close her legs to hide the evidence of her overwhelming arousal.
Transfixed, Yoongi’s touch returned to her pussy, biting his lip when more wetness leaked out of her when his thumb brushed over her clit. She was so sensitive, responsive, tiny cries of pure want filling his ears, and it drove him absolutely crazy, paired with the scent of her lust. Wasting no more time, he locked eyes, her pupils blown out, eyebrows pinched, and kissed right above the hood of her clit, chuckling when her hips jerked in consequence. With a deft lick, Yoongi dragged his tongue through her folds, feeling Y/N’s legs shaking over his shoulders, a wail leaving her throat.
Y/N couldn’t help her spine from contorting off the mattress, yanking on Yoongi’s hair sharply, a muffled grunt coming from his lips as he wrapped them around her clit, humming lightly and making Y/N see stars. It was almost too much to bear, Yoongi’s sinful tongue dipping into her entrance, his forearm keeping her hips pinned down. Alarmingly, Y/N felt herself already hurtling towards her release, Yoongi’s mouth on her paired with the unbroken eye contact had her stomach tightening quickly.
“Yoongi,” Y/N whined, pressing herself into his face desperately, cheeks on fire when he raised an eyebrow, using the flat of his tongue to collect all of the wetness that had gathered between her legs, the erotic visual making her eyes roll shut. “Ah!”
Yoongi paused, assessing the mess he made of her, using a free hand to stroke through her folds, Y/N begging for more, for anything, and Yoongi didn’t want to tease her too much, so with one last breathy please, Yoongi sunk a finger into her cunt. Cursing at the tightness, he curled his finger, attempting to open her up a little bit, a second digit joining the first, Y/N writhing in his grip.
“Squeezin’ me, baby, are you gonna cum already?” Yoongi taunted, feeling her clamp down onto his fingers even tighter, her lip bitten raw as she cried out his name. “That’s it, honey.”
“Yoongi, want you,” Y/N managed to gasp, gripping the wrist that was between her legs, halting his movements. “Please, now, want you.”
“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?” Yoongi asked softly, pulling his fingers from her cunt, sliding the coated digits into his mouth, his free hand moving to the hemline of his boxers, Y/N’s eyes immediately dropping to the bulge beneath the fabric, her mouth watering. “Turn over.”
Blinking, Y/N shakily scooched up the bed, rolling onto her front, hearing Yoongi shuffle forward on his knees, his boxers tossed on the floor, Y/N turning her head slightly to get a good look at him, his sharp teeth prodding at his fleshy lower lip. Sighing blissfully when his hands caressed her hips gently, she squealed when he dragged them up, using his other hand to reach for a pillow, placing it underneath her, arranging her limbs so she was resting comfortably. Cheeks burning, she felt the pillow beneath her hips and lower abdomen, her ass on display as she arched her spine, leaning on her forearms.
“Look at you, waiting so patiently,” Yoongi’s touch returned, his palms landing heavily on her ass, making her shudder and keen, opening her mouth to tell him to hurry up. Before she could, however, Yoongi spoke again. “Ready, baby?”
“Please,” Y/N wiggled her hips, hoping to tempt him into picking up the pace, feeling sweat slip down her spine. She sounded wrecked, eager, and Yoongi groaned, holding the base of his cock in one hand, the other squeezing one of her cheeks.
Shaky breath rounding out into a moan, she felt him press against her weeping sex, running the tip through her folds teasingly, his own breaths coming out in labored pants, slowly losing control as he ground against her. Gripping Yoongi’s sheets for dear life, she huffed in annoyance at his teasing, feeling wetness dribble down the inside of her thighs in anticipation. After what felt like minutes, Yoongi stopped messing around, lining himself up, using a palm splayed across Y/N’s lower back as leverage and finally pushed in, only an inch or two, Y/N instantly clenching down on him with a broken whimper.
“Holy fuck,” Yoongi grunted, moving as slowly as he could, and when his pelvis was flush with her ass, he weakly collapsed on top of her, bracing a hand beside her head. Y/N felt her walls fluttering around his generous length and girth frantically, the position she was in making him feel like he was in her guts, and she was hardly aware of the pathetic sounds spilling from her mouth. “This pussy…”
“F-full,” Y/N stuttered, Yoongi’s breath on the back of her neck as he let her get used to the feeling, grazing his teeth along the junction of her shoulder and throat. “Hnngh–”
“Yeah? Stuffed full of me?” Yoongi’s voice was dark, dulcet, and in her ear, and Yoongi was all Y/N could feel– pressed against her back, scent clinging to the sheets, cock buried in her pussy. “Fuck. Stop clenching.”
“C-can’t help it,” Y/N replied, Yoongi wrapping his hand around her waist, giving his hips an experimental roll, Y/N choking on an intake of air with the movement. “Oh, d-don’t stop–”
Moaning into her neck, Yoongi snapped his hips forward, setting a strong, almost punishing pace right away, unable to hold back, and wanting to fuck the jealousy out of her. Yoongi was always more fond of showing, rather than telling, anyways.
“I’m yours,” Yoongi mumbled into the skin over her shoulder blade, sucking a bruise into the flesh, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh filling his bedroom, Y/N’s voice scratchy from the constant mewls leaving her mouth. “Got that?”
“Nn– ah! Oh,” Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the support from the pillow beneath her adding even more pressure to the way he was pounding into her, even the fabric of the pillowcase adding friction against her clit in the most delicious way. “Mine!”
“That’s right,” Yoongi peeled himself from her back, adjusting his position so he could fuck into her with greater strength, gathering up the hair along the nape of her neck and wrapping it around his wrist. “All for you, baby. Say my name.”
“Yoongi, oh my g– fuck, gonna cum soon,” Y/N wailed, the way he was tugging her hair back making her scalp smart, but between the pain and the pleasure, Y/N was nearly careening off the edge of sanity. “Please.”
“Please, what?” Yoongi spat through his teeth, not letting up on the pace one bit, kneading the flesh of her asscheek. “You’ve already got my cock, you need more?”
Contrary to his taunts, Yoongi gave her more, reaching underneath, using a forefinger to rub circles around her clit, Y/N’s vision going white as she came without warning, clamping down on Yoongi so hard he swore colorfully, hips stuttering against her ass as she writhed from beneath him. He let go of her hair, kissing down the length of her spine, helping her through her orgasm as best he could while keeping up the swift pace of his thrusts.
“Can you take a bit more, love?” Yoongi soothed a hand down her back, her body shivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, nodding dazedly as she pressed her ass backwards into Yoongi. “Come here, roll over. Wanna see your face.”
Y/N was boneless, but Yoongi helped her flip over, tossing the pillow to the side. She whined when his cock slipped from her, but Yoongi was quick to remedy that, pushing back in as soon as her limp arms looped around his neck. Groaning at the new angle, Yoongi kept his thrusts slow, punctuated by a light grind to the spongy tissue of her G-spot, Y/N dissolving into a complete mess. The mood turned sensual, Yoongi leaning down to press his lips to hers, and even if Y/N wasn’t a hybrid, she could sense his love for her by the way he held the side of her face tenderly. Tucking hair behind his ear, Y/N crossed her ankles behind his back, feeling the way his cock throbbed inside of her– he must have been getting close.
“Come, Yoongi,” Y/N pressed her forehead to her lover’s, raking her nails down his chest lightly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”
“Y/N,” Yoongi gasped, Y/N feeling her gut tighten once again when he hit a sweet spot inside of her, and after two more strokes, she was coming again, gasping and moaning into the leopard hybrid’s mouth. “I–”
Without warning, Yoongi stilled, his mouth on her collarbone, teeth sinking into the flesh, heightening the bliss of her orgasm. She felt him spilling inside of her, sweet, filthy nothings falling from his lips as he came, tongue swiping over the bite he had given her absently. Hazy from the scenting, she let Yoongi roll the two of them onto their sides, his cock still nestled between her walls, the leopard hybrid cleaning up the wound on her neck in a way that was more primal, feline, than ever, his chest rumbling with loud purrs.
Limbs like jelly, Y/N closed her eyes, melting into Yoongi’s sheets as his tongue dragged over her neck lazily, the post-fuck and post-scenting haze having her so lax, she hardly noticed the mixture of their releases rolling down her thighs. She didn’t have enough energy to say anything, simply clinging to him like a baby kangaroo, fingers gliding along his sweat-dampened back.
“Still jealous?” Yoongi broke the content silence, tracing shapes along her ribcage lovingly, his purrs unbroken and strong.
“No,” Y/N replied meekly, hiding her face in his collarbones, suddenly embarrassed she entertained any feelings of envy at all.
“I know, can’t smell it anymore,” Yoongi snickered, Y/N rolling her eyes at the fact that he was back to his sarcastic, deadpan self. “Guess I just had to fuck it out of you.”
“You’re so vulgar,” Y/N lightly shoved his chest away, wincing when she felt him pull out of her, and the sensation of his cum dribbling out of her. “I never would have thought.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Yoongi retorted, kissing her forehead gently, his lips bent upwards in a tiny smile. “Wanna get cleaned up?”
“Mmm,” Y/N groaned noncommittally, knowing that walking would probably be an issue. “Not really.”
“I can carry you,” Yoongi’s laughter grew in volume, clearly enjoying that he had completely ruined her, squeezing the meat of her ass in one hand playfully.
“Fine,” Y/N pouted, not ready to break free from their post-coital bliss, but knowing that it would probably be wise to bathe and attempt to look normal before the other hybrids came home.
Yoongi carried her bridal-style into his bathroom, and Y/N leaned on his shoulder while the water heated up, enjoying his warmth and presence. Once in the shower, the leopard hybrid supported her, her back to his chest as the hot water beat down on their skin. Hooking his chin over her shoulder, his wet hair tickling her cheek, Y/N gripped the forearms he had wrapped around her middle, sighing.
“I love you,” Yoongi said quietly, planting a kiss on the bite he had given her.
Turning in his arms, Y/N chose to respond by leaning up, brushing her lips against his softly, hands winding around his neck as steam filled the shower.
“Hope you didn’t fill up too much on the toffee,” Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt, making sure the parking ticket for the garage she parked in was stuffed in her wallet.
“I didn’t! I skipped lunch, too,” Seokjin was hurrying out of the car, glancing around the parking garage curiously, correcting his stride to match Y/N’s, pulling his wool coat tightly around his body.
“Aw, you didn’t have to do that. You must be starving,” Y/N pouted, her fingertips twitching to hold his hand. It was Valentine’s Day, and most of the day had passed by uneventfully, but that evening, she and Seokjin traveled into the city for the cooking lesson.
“I just didn’t know how much we’d end up cooking, wanted to be prepared to stuff my face!” Seokjin joked, a merry smile on his face. After she had given him his Valentine that morning, it seemed that goofy, fond Seokjin was back, and he could finally smile at her with it actually reaching his eyes. Progress was progress, she supposed.
“I think we’re making three courses,” Y/N grinned as Seokjin pulled the door to the mall for her. He looked gorgeous, as always, in black slacks and a powder blue button down, his wavy hair swept off his forehead. “Three courses, three different wine tastings. I’m excited!”
Seokjin’s sleek black tail flicked behind him, sticking close to Y/N’s side as they navigated through Copley Place, and when she felt him growing nervous with the amount of people clogging up the narrow aisles of Eataly, she hooked her hand around his elbow, pulling him into her side for comfort.
Fortunately for Seokjin, the actual classroom where they were going to cook in was spacious, at the back of the market, and there were only a few other pairs of people taking the class with them. Seokjin appeared to be the only hybrid, however, and naturally every pair of eyes in the room was on him as he draped his coat on the rack by the door, his ears fluttering excitedly as he noticed the station that had a card with Y/N’s last name printed on it.
The instructor appeared to be an older Italian man, one with a thick accent and golden skin, greeting everybody happily. To Y/N’s relief, the instructor didn’t greet Seokjin any differently than anyone else, simply handing the jaguar hybrid two red-and-white striped aprons for them to wear.
“Today, we’ll be learning about the cuisine of Rome, and cooking some of my favorite dishes from all over Italy,” the man began once all of the students were in their aprons and standing eagerly behind their stations. Y/N noticed that most of the people in the class were older, perhaps married, couples, with one pair of college students in the back of the room. “We’ll be making a bruschetta, linguine alle vongole, and saltimbocca for our three courses, all paired with a lovely wine.”
Seokjin was nearly shaking with excitement beside her, checking out all of the dials on the stovetop, the raw ingredients in front of them, and the array of kitchen tools available for their use. He paid rapt attention to the man explaining the origins of the dishes they were going to prepare, his ears perked up. Once the little history lesson was over, the instructor walked them through the steps to make fresh pasta for the vongole, and she and Seokjin exchanged smug smirks– they both already knew how to make fresh pasta, and while some of the other couples were struggling to assemble the dough, her’s and Seokjin’s was plastic wrapped and chilling in the mini fridge already. Seokjin positively preened under the praise of the instructor, his neck turning red, and Y/N snorted and shook her head as she sliced through some tomatoes for the bruschetta topping.
Meanwhile, Seokjin handled the veal steaks for the saltimbocca, using a mallet to pound the meat to a certain thinness, and the first round of wine came around, the glass they were to nurse while they cooked. Here and there, Seokjin would crack a joke or two, corny as ever, but they made her choke on her wine and laughter.
“When asked about his cooking skills, the sage replied, ‘I’m herbally gifted’,” Seokjin held up a sage leaf he was using toothpicks to attaching to the veal steaks, waving it in front of Y/N’s face with a goofy grin.
“Jin, stop, I’m gonna pee my pants,” Y/N whispered, cheeks sore from smiling so much. It had been a while since she spent such quality time with Seokjin, and she realized how much she missed him, with a painful twang of her heart.
Seokjin’s grin only grew wider, hand reaching up to ruffle Y/N’s hair affectionately, one of the first times he actually touched her since finding out about her and Yoongi. Delighted, Y/N took a happy sip of wine, getting back to work on the sauce for the vongole.
Once everything was cooked, chairs were brought out, along with the fruity pinot grigio to be paired with the bruschetta, all while the instructor answered questions about Italian cuisine, and told stories about his childhood in Rome.
“This is so good,” Seokjin sighed, munching on a piece of bruschetta, his orange eyes wide as he tasted all of the flavors. “We get the recipes after, right?”
“Yep! We can make this whole meal again for the others. I think Hoseok would really enjoy this, too,” Y/N clinked glasses with the older woman from the station behind her, Seokjin’s cheeks beginning to color with the alcohol, already.
“This is so much fun, Y/N. We should do this again,” Seokjin suddenly became serious, glancing around the room, before his eyes softened and he made eye contact with her again.
“Absolutely. I’ve missed spending time with you,” Y/N replied without hesitancy, Seokjin’s neck turning red again when she admitted that.
Looking away, their interaction was interrupted by the instructor telling them to finish off the sauce for the vongole, and Seokjin drained his wine glass urgently before hopping to his feet to turn on the burner.
After two more glasses of wine and two delicious entrees the two of them cooked, her and her jaguar hybrid were loopily weaving their way through the market with a packet of recipes, a bottle of wine Seokjin liked the most, and free Italian cookies in their arms. Seokjin, bolder now that he was tipsy, insisted on holding the bag with all of the items, and finally, he offered her a hand as they walked through the mall.
“Want to go for a little walk before we head back to the car?” Y/N asked, threading her fingers through his, Seokjin staring down at her through his eyelashes with that thoughtful expression she had seen on his face only once or twice before. Truthfully, she both wanted to spend a bit more alone time with Seokjin, and she felt like some cool nighttime air would sober her up enough to drive home confidently.
“Okay,” Seokjin squeezed her hand, following her down the escalator to the street outside of the mall, the sky already dark and the city lights keeping the streets illuminated.
Not too many people were out, everyone seemed to be having their romantic Valentine’s Day dinners in the multiple restaurants studding the sidewalks, and it was much too cold for a leisurely stroll for most people. Tummy full, she stuck close to Seokjin, who radiated heat like a furnace, and Y/N was grateful for the slight buzz from the wine that was keeping her warm as well. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, only broken once or twice when Seokjin would ask her about a restaurant they would stroll by.
“Thank you for tonight,” Seokjin spoke out of the blue, letting Y/N hook her arm around his in an attempt to steal some of his body heat.
“You don’t have to thank me, honey, it was for your birthday!” Y/N insisted, reaching up to flick the dangling earrings that were threaded through his left earlobe– another birthday present from her. “I should thank you for letting me use the other ticket. I learned so much, got to hang out with you for a while, ate yummy food…”
Y/N paused, feeling cold and wet hit her forehead, stopping in front of an old church, the lights from inside making the colored stained glass glow and cast pretty hues over the sidewalk. Looking up, she made a soft noise of exclamation, clumps of snow falling from the sky. Letting go of Seokjin temporarily, she did a twirl, head craned skyways, admiring the way the snowflakes floated gently through the air. She didn’t realize Seokjin was repeating her name until his hand was on her shoulder, his lip tucked between his teeth.
“Ah, we can head back now. You’re probably freezing, huh?” Y/N held her hand out for him again, but this time, he didn’t take it.
“Y/N, I have something I want to tell you, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it,” Seokjin looked from her flushed face to the windows of the church, shades of blue, green, and red highlighting his features. A ball forming in the pit of her stomach, she dropped her outstretched hand, nervous about the seriousness of his tone, his whole voice going down a pitch.
“It’s okay, tell me,” Y/N, while nervous, was curious as well, freezing when Seokjin released a breathy exhale, gathering up her hands in one of his, the contact appearing to ease his nerves.
“I– I know you, um. You’re with Yoongi, you love him,” Seokjin swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Wine churning in her gut, she nodded, taken aback that that was the night he chose to first address the relationship. “And I’m happy for you, I am, Yoongi too. But…”
“It makes you uncomfortable?” Y/N murmured, heart beating painfully in her chest. Seokjin bit his lip again, shaking his head, but conflict flashed in his eyes.
“No. I mean, somewhat, yes,” Seokjin sucked his teeth, tugging her closer into his proximity.
“Is there a specific reason why, Seokjinnie?” Y/N would be heartbroken if Seokjin would push her away after such a wonderful night spent together, but she would deal with it if it came to that.
“I’m,” Seokjin swallowed thickly again, before squaring his shoulders with his ears flat to his head, lowering his face closer to Y/N’s like he was about to tell her a secret. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”
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Little Backstabber
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader
Warning: Angst, angst just pure angst, some fluff, Max is a Toto apologist, the reader is just hurting, Max has no respect for that
Requested: Yes/No
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2.3K
A/N: Hahahahaha I’m sorry (not really)
Part 1: Little Traitor
Pt.3 Little Heartbreaker
Breaking News: Max Verstappen and Y/N Wolff Announce Their Engagement
Toto stares out the window as Susie reads the newspaper out loud during breakfast. Laying the newspaper down, she gazes at her husband as he doesn't say a word, not even turning to acknowledge what she has read.
"Toto, maybe tell her how happy you are for her?" Susie mumbles over her coffee cup, which has his eyes cut to her.
"I called my daughter a slut; she doesn't want to hear from me. But, can you?" He asks, laying his glasses down as he rubs his eyes.
"No, I will not." Susie snips, sitting her cup down harshly.
He just nods, not preaching the topic anymore since it's been a strain between them.
"Y/n? Angel? Where are you?" Max yells, seeing your boxes piled up in his place, but it doesn't make him angry; pride and other cavemen's feelings cover his mind as he stops seeing you in the kitchen.
You danced in the kitchen wearing a Redbull shirt and dark blue panties, clearly, nothing else. Hair is thrown up, and you are just enjoying yourself.
"God, I love you." He whispers, still not letting you know he is home. Home. It was weird for you to call this place home, but it felt right.
You spin around but stop halfway to seeing the figure and scream.
Max laughs, which calms you down immediately, knowing it is your fiance and not some stranger. You hold your chest, trying to calm down as he just reduces to giggles walking up to you, pulling your hands gently. You let him pull your body into his, both bodies molding perfectly in the hug as he whispers comforting words.
"You scared me." You laugh, rubbing his back as his chest shakes yours with his laugh again.
"Oh het spijt me, zat gewoon naar mijn bloedmooie verloofde te staren." (Oh I'm sorry, was just staring at my gorgeous fiancee) He laughs making you slap his chest.
You've started to perfect your Dutch after Max proposed to you; you had always spoken Dutch, but not comfortably, and now you could converse with him.
"The press released our engagement announcement today. It's in the newspapers." He mumbles, leaning back slightly to kiss your forehead.
"Yes, I know. Susie sent her congratulations." Your tone sour.
After everything with your father, you refused to go anywhere near Mercedes, even keeping away from Lewis and Geroge, who sided with your father. Your stepmother tried her best, but you didn't want to talk to them, much less think about them. Max makes a noise but doesn't say anything. There have been multiple arguments about your family and what to do regarding the wedding. You didn't want them there, no invitations or anything. Why should people who constantly let you down throughout your life be welcomed to the day of embracing your new one?
"Don't, Max." You noted the noise and pulled away from him, returning to the counter and fixing lunch for the both of you.
"I just......he's your father. He should be there when we're married." He groans, pulling his hair slightly with annoyance.
"No." Is all you say, making Max drop the conversation and look over your shoulder at what you're preparing. He smiles, seeing the potatoes, onion, carrot, and cabbage beside the smoked sausages.
"You're making Stamppot?" He asks, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder, able to see the tension fade away.
"Yes, it's slightly chilly out, and I figured it'd be good and healthy since you can't eat certain foods." You mumble, trying to get around your irritation with Max.
"I'm sorry." He whispers, touching your wrist and stopping you from chopping the cabbage.
"Just, why can't you understand? You were able to work out your issues with your father, but mine? I can't. So stop." You pull your wrist away from his fingers and continue chopping the cabbage.
Max nods his head and walks away, heading to his Sim. Hearing his footsteps enter the den, you drop your head and stare at the gorgeous ring on your finger. It's a stunning natural blue sapphire with a daisy oval shape, little diamonds aline it, with a gold band holding it all together. Max had the ring specially crafted for you; he had the idea of the ring for a while now. He knew you weren't big on diamonds, so he set on a sapphire. Cliche, but he picked one closest to the RB color, a final stamp to show people that you were his and you weren't going anywhere.
You loved the ring, Max, and your little life together. It terrified you that if your father came back into your life, to your wedding. He'd ruin it all. Shaking off the evil thoughts, you get back to cooking the lunch. Time passes with you cooking and listening to Max curse the Sim, potting the Stamppot. You gently carry Max's bowel to him and sit it on the desk.
Max pauses it immediately and turns around in his chair, looking up at you; from the look on his face, he clearly has something to say.
"If it's about my father, keep it to yourself." You warn, Max automatically turning back around to the Sim and hitting play.
"I think you'll regret it." Max mumbles, but you ignore the comment and head to the bedroom sitting on the bed.
You reach under the bed, pull out this little black box, and open it, your father and your smiling face greeting you. You kept all your childhood pictures of your father or postcards from when he was traveling around the world. Each one had his familiar writing on the back, each word etched into your brain. Each praise, love, how much he loved you, missed you, couldn't wait to see you. Where did it all go wrong? Why did he leave you? Why weren't you worthy or made him proud enough? Why?
Swallowing the tears, you put the lid back on and slide it back under the bed. Max stands at the cracked door, watching you hide the box, the one you thought he knew nothing of. He knew your father should be at the wedding, he knew that's what you wanted, but you couldn't see past your anger and hurt. Max understood, but he knew the best for the both of you would be inviting Toto to the wedding.
Stepping away from the door, he grabs his phone and pulls up Toto's number. Don't ask why he has it. He just does.
You're invited to the wedding, don't fuck up this opportunity; see you on July 1st at 7 pm at Hotel de Paris.
Max hits sent and watches as the text is read automatically. The 3 bubbles pop up and then go away. This continues for about 15 minutes until the text returns, making Max scuff slightly, but glad to see Toto answered.
Thank you for the invite, we'll be there.
Clearly, Suise was helping the man answer the text, but in the end, Toto gave his curt answer, and that was that. Max wasn't going to tell you what he had done, but he knew that you'd come around in time for the wedding and invite Toto and Suise, but it was his secret for now. Of course, telling Toto you had no idea he was invited doesn't occur to him, but he'll worry about that later.
"Baby?" Max yells down the hall, and you emerge quickly, worried something is wrong.
"What?" You ask, looking around the apartment, ready for an issue, but all he sees is Max sitting on the couch.
"I apologize. I know the relationship with your father isn't like mine, and I should leave it be, and I will. No more talk about it. I'll let you go at your own pace. But just know, if we have kids, he needs a chance, and that's all I'm saying on the topic." Max sighs, catching his breath from his little rant.
"I love you." You whisper, walking over and kissing him. Max smiles and pulls you down, having you lay on top of him.
At this moment, everything was perfect, until 4 weeks later.
You're walking home when you see a present sitting at your door, you weren't expecting a package so you look at the address and see it was from Susie. Sighing, you lean down and pick it up. Shocked by the weight, you stumble into the place and set it on the coffee table. Opening the box, you pull out the brown paper and freeze, seeing what is in the box.
There was a transparent glass collage of you and Max lined with your favorite flowers, and on the bottom were gold words engraved.
If I were the moon, I would want you to be my night
You stare at the words, knowing those words deeply. Your father always wrote quotes on the back of your postcards. This was the last quote he wrote you before it all fell apart. You pick up one of the smaller boxes with shaky hands and open it. You can't help the tears that start to fall.
It was this small tiara, but not any tiara. It was a baroque crystal pearl tiara with very two rows of diamonds; on the top, pearls sat on top. It was gorgeous, but you felt your inner child's heartbreak. He remembered. When you were younger, you and your father walked past this old antique boutique in the front window and sat this same tiara; it was crazy expensive. You didn't even tell Toto that you wanted the tiara; you just stared at it and then kept walking down the street. But he did remember, after dropping you off at your mother's, he circled back and bought it. He kept it for the day you'd get married and thought he would hand it to you in person, telling you how much he loved you and was proud of the woman you've become, but instead.....he had to send it to you through a box.
Sitting down, you grab the last box, opening it as a watch for Max. On the back was the first date you two ever had. But, the inscription was in Toto's handwriting. How he knew it that date was beyond your knowledge. Something catches your eye, making you sit the watch down to pick it up. It was a card.
Opening the card, you scan the words, but one sentence catches your attention.
Thank you for the invitation, we can't wait to see you and Y/n tie the knot. Much love from Susie and Toto
You stare at the words before they dawn on you. Max. He invited them. After you told him you didn't want them there, he still asked them and did it without notifying you. Time passed by you, and nothing made you move until you heard Max's keys in the door.
"Hey love, I'm home!" Max called, having a great day. He couldn't wait to see you.
Walking into the living room, he smiles brightly seeing you but stops seeing the emotionless look on your face. He looks at the box and then back to you before you slam the card down, finally looking at him.
"You bastard." You whisper, shaking your head. You feel this hot rage boiling inside you, but your throat gets tighter and tighter with each passing of time.
"He's your father." He whispers, knowing what the box means. Toto must've sent a gift or something and probably told you on a card that he was invited.
"He LEFT ME!" You scream, moving away from the box to stand before Max.
"You both left each other! Why can't you see that he's been trying!" Max snaps, tired of this back-and-forth argument.
"I was 14. What do you want from me, Max? He was the adult; he should've tried. It's not my job!" You yell, not wanting to talk about this anymore.
"When he reached out to you, we were 16, we had just had our first date, and he called you. You didn't answer the phone and said you'd call him back. But you never did. That showed him you didn't care anymore. Why would he try with someone who didn't even try either." Max argues. This shocks you. How could someone who not even 6 months ago defend you against your father was now being his most prominent advocate.
"Be..because I was a kid." You retort, lost for words.
"See, you can't tell me why you're still angry at him. We're adults, Y/n, let the past be the past." Max sighs, running his fingers through his hair before reaching for you.
You pull away from his reach; hurt and rejection shatter Max's face as he slowly drops his arms. You take a few deep breaths, fiddling with the ring. Max watches, panic overtaking any sense he has.
"Don't, don't do this." He whispers, staring at the ring on your finger.
"How can I marry someone who doesn't respect my wishes, someone who defends the man who called me a slut. The person who made me feel less of myself my entire life, and here the person who is supposed to protect, stand by me, and love me, defends them. How can I marry you after this?" You ask, pulling the ring off.
"No, please, Y/n, don't." Max breaks. He can't keep it together anymore as he watches you sit the ring before him. Tears slide down his face as he watches you grab your shoes and keys.
"Don't leave me, don't please. Not again." He whispers, grabbing you as you try to hide your own tears.
"You betrayed me." You whisper, pulling yourself out of his hold and walking out the door. As you close the door, all you hear is a scream and glass shattering as you walk away from the love of your life.
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“A Neighbor Like You”
Kim Dongyoung (Doyoung) x Male Reader
SMUT! DNI if under 18!!!
Plot: Doyoung is Y/N’s older neighbor who takes an interest in the boy.
Y/N L/N was in his first year of college and was just moving into his new apartment. Excited to start a new phase in his life, Y/N put down the box in his hands and looked around to the place that would become his home.
Y/N’s parents walked in the door a moment after with the last of Y/N’s things. After a tearful goodbye, Y/N waved goodbye to his parents and went up to his apartment.
Y/N walked around the place with a deep sigh, having left home for the first time and unsure of when he’d see his parents next. Yet at the same time, Y/N was ready to begin his independent life.
In an effort to get to know his neighbors, Y/N decided to give some of his cookies to everyone on his story, starting with his next door neighbor.
Y/N quietly walked over to the next door and rung the bell, a little bit nervous about whether his neighbors would be nice and welcoming or rough and rude.
The door was opened by a handsome man in his mid 30s with a white T-shirt that showed off his muscular build. While not a bodybuilder, it was clear that the man had worked out for a good time, furthered by his significantly muscular thighs on display with his 2 inch inseam shorts.
Y/N looked up and down and was drooling in his mind before the neighbor said, “Can I help you?”
Y/N snapped back to reality, introducing himself, “Hello, I’m Y/N L/N, and I just moved here. I wanted to give you these cookies and please let me know if you need me anytime for anything .”
The man looked Y/N up and down, before teasing him by grabbing his hand and then the box of cookies before saying, “Thanks, I’m Doyoung and I might take you up on that offer real soon.”
Y/N quickly gave the rest of his neighbors cookies, who were mostly families. Y/N couldn’t get the image of the mature man who opened the door for him out of his sinful mind as he pondered on what they could be doing as they were only a wall away.
Doyoung knocked on Y/N’s door while Y/N has just finished stashing away all of his things. Y/N ran up to go answer and was more than excited to see the handsome man again. At a closer distance, Y/N was able to smell his cologne and naturally musky smell, attracting him more to the older man as he kept looking up and down the eye candy called Doyoung.
“You said I could call you anytime, Y/N. Here I am, I need some help with dinner,” Doyoung slyly replied while giving Y/N a smirk.
Y/N was too innocent to pick up on the smirk but thought it was very clever that his neighbor found a way to invite him over for dinner. Nonetheless, Y/N was very excited and followed his neighbor into his apartment.
Y/N’s eyes looked around in shock as he noticed Doyoung’s detailed wall accents, accessories, and furniture that was extremely well kept, especially for a bachelor. He was only impressed more and more by Doyoung, who invited Y/N into the kitchen.
“It’s making dinner and finishing it that I needed your help with,” Doyoung joked.
Y/N expressed his gratitude to Doyoung for letting him in and for the dinner while Doyoung instructed Y/N to cut some green onions for a garnish.
Y/N kept stealing glances of Doyoung’s body and face, enthralled by the square rim glasses falling low on Doyoung’s nose, the defintion and veins on his arms emerging with every chop he made with the knife, and the meatiness of Doyoung’s thighs.
Y/N just kept collecting images of Doyoung in his mind, probably for jerk off material later, but what he didn’t realize is that his gaze was obvious to the experienced Doyoung.
Doyoung knew Y/N was attracted to him and was ready to ensnare him in his trap. Making a small move to fluster him, Doyoung tsk tsked to Y/N.
“You’re not cutting the green part fine enough, lemme show you,” Doyoung claimed with a straight face, all the while walking over to Y/N and hovering over his body. Doyoung leaned in and held Y/N’s hand over the knife as he guided his chopping, while simultaneously moving his body closer to Y/N’s. His front side was eventually fully pressed against Y/N’s back, enabling him to feel Y/N smooth and bouncy ass on his crotch.
Y/N on the other hand, could not stop blushing after he felt Doyoung’s large cock, making it clear there was no underwear underneath Doyoung’s already revealing shorts. Y/N’s just let Doyoung’s hand take control of the knife and his hand as he felt the warmth from behind him.
Doyoung slowly moved away, knowing that Y/N was in a state like hypnosis and would do whatever the older wanted out of attraction.
The dinner was soon finished, as Doyoung asked Y/N questions and learned of the other’s young age, his college apprehensions, while informing the other of his age and lifestyle as well.
Doyoung and Y/N’s neighborly relationship had started on good footing, but things were only about to get better and closer.
Right before Y/N was to bring the plates into the dining room, Doyoung cleaver stashed away the second chair so there was only one chair left.
As Y/N brought the food to the table, Doyoung explained that he only kept one chair because it was usually just him at home, but it wasn’t going to be an issue.
Doyoung sat down and Y/N was shocked as Doyoung pulled Y/N down into his lap.
“Problem solved, you can just sit in my lap. There’s not going to be any trouble with that, right Y/N?” Doyoung teased with a smirk as Y/N blushed.
Y/N was struggling to prevent getting an erection while sitting on such a hot man’s thighs. Y/N enjoyed the warmth of Doyoung’s muscular things and abdomen more than the warmth of the rice bowl he was eating, and he convinced himself to relish every moment of sitting on Doyoung’s lap in case he didn’t have the opportunity again.
Luckily for Y/N, Doyoung saw through all of his antics as clear as day and let the younger have his way with maximizing the skinship between the two. Doyoung himself was having trouble restraining himself from an erection as the younger shifted on his lap, allowing Doyoung to enjoy the shape of Y/N’s ass as well.
Dinner was soon finished, and Doyoung took off his shirt, “Damn that rice bowl really heated me up (in more ways than one).” Y/N was still eating, but he kept sneaking glances at Doyoung’s abs, well defined pecs, and rounded, muscular shoulders.
As oblivious as a virgin would be, Y/N just kept getting hornier while not realizing Doyoung’s intent.
Doyoung knew that Y/N was a virgin from the way he acted and saw that his chance to take the younger was a pretty good one, as Y/N clearly swinged his way.
Doyoung got up once Y/N finished his meal and led him into the bedroom, “There’s something here I need your help with.”
Just as Y/N entered, Doyoung quickly shut the door behind him and pushed Y/N to the wall as he kissed him aggressively.
“My first kiss, mm, feels so good,” Y/N thought as he tried to kiss back Doyoung, whose tongue was encircling his in a dance that spoke of technique and experience. Y/N was shocked but due to his arousal, he melted right into Doyoung’s arms.
Doyoung moved their lower bodies closer as he pulled his lips apart from Y/N before whispering in his ear,“ It’s my cock that really needs your tight hole, the dinner was just a distraction,” all the while rubbing his hard on against Y/N’s.
Y/N was worried on how he would take a large cock in his virgin ass that had never even been touched before, but his horniness clouded his mind as he agreed, saying out to the other with a blank expression, “Please take me. I’ve been so horny painfully so since I saw you this afternoon. I want you to give me my first feeling of cock, please you’re such a DILF, Doyoung.”
Doyoung smirked back, “I had my eyes on you too, you seemed like such a fresh piece of meat that I knew I wanted to the be the first to pound your hole so you learn how good anal can be. Looks like all my tactics worked, I’ve ensnared another prey in my trap of attraction.”
Doyoung threw Y/N onto the bed before kissing him aggressively again. Doyoung took off Y/N’s t-shirt before sucking on his nipples.
“Milk me, D-Daddy. AHHH,” Y/N screamed as he felt a surge of sensitivity in the area before Doyoung moved onto the next one, prompting a light yelp. Doyoung then skillfully rid Y/N of the confinements of his shorts and underwear with just one hand, while the other muscular hand with veins and thick fingers rubbed itself all over Y/N’s abdomen, like a massage that was giving the other warmth and making his lower body feel a pressure to cum.
Knowing that Y/N was being stimulated extremely well due to his technique. Doyoung began to slowly pump Y/N’s cock with a tight grip as Y/N moaned out.
“It feels so good, it never feels this good when I do it,” Y/N said with a fucked-out expression.
“That’s cause I know exactly how to make you feel good, Y/N,” Doyoung proudly stated while rubbing his finger over Y/N’s glans, causing the younger to throw his head back and lift up his legs.
Doyoung stopped abruptly as the younger began to whimper for more pleasure, “Don’t you think it’s time I pound your ass nice and good, Y/N? You better only cum from having this cock inside you. Take a nice long, hard look,” while Doyoung took off his own shorts.
Y/N kept staring at Doyoung’s cock, which perfectly matched his body in its huge size. 9 inches long with a thick shaft and multiple veins that emphasized its power, Y/N never felt like he needed dick more in his life than in this moment.
Doyoung brought his fingers close to Y/N’s mouth, commanding the younger to lick. He scooped up a decent amount of Y/N’s saliva, rubbing it over his cock.
Y/N yelped as Doyoung flipped him over onto his stomach and got behind him, holding open his ass cheeks to reveal his tight, pink, virgin hole.
Doyoung spit onto Y/N’s hole, before getting on his knees right behind Y/N in order to rub his tip against Y/N’s hole.
“Ready to be a slut just for me, Y/N? Want me to pound your ass until you forget your name and your body is imprinted with the shape of my cock?”
Y/N groaned, “Mmm, please Mr. Kim breed me good.”
Doyoung chuckled, “Of course I will, not everyone opens up their virgin ass to a stranger within the first few hours of meeting them. No condom either, your ass need to know how real cock feels.”
Doyoung quickly pushed all of his cock into Y/N’s tight hole at once, feeling the need to do him nice and rough his first time. Y/N yelled out at the huge intrusion in his formerly virgin ass that had never been touched before, let alone penetrated by a huge cock.
“How does my huge dick feel,” Doyoung asked while reveling in the pleasure of having his dick surrounded tightly after a very long time.
“Mm-g-good,” Y/N managed to cry out while tears rolled out of his eyes due to the searing pain in his ass.
“Your ass is so tight, pretty lucky that you found a perfect cock like me to take it,” Doyoung cooed while thrusting further up.
Y/N’s tears increased as Doyoung’s thrusts only increased, in both frequency and depth.
Y/N thoroughly felt his ass being mangled and pounded deep as he struggled to cope with the initial pain, still crying out.
Doyoung stopped for a brief second, “Aww, is my baby crying? Does it hurt?” to Y/N.
Just as Y/N nodded, Doyoung resumed his thrusts at an even more increased pace, “You need to adjust to cock properly Y/N, that’s the only way you’ll learn to enjoy mine”.
Y/N’s tears increased as the pain remained the same but he slowly got used to the pleasure as Doyoung relentlessly thrusted into him from behind.
The warmth from Doyoung’s well exercised abs and soft pecs turned on Y/N even more as Doyoung reeled in the joy of Y/N’s tight ass, whispering dirty nothings in his ear as he continued his anal onslaught.
Doyoung’s thick, sweaty balls slapped hard against Y/N’s taint as he asked, “Enjoying getting done all rough like this by a huge cock. I’m not done yet?” while increasing his thrusts to an animalistic pace inside Y/N, as his ass slowly molded to the shape of Doyoung’s cock.
Y/N responded with a moan as Doyoung stuffed his mouth with his pheromone laced underwear that smelled strongly of his cock, while putting his hands around Y/N’s neck to lightly choke him.
“This is what a young boy like you truly needs, a real man’s cock ruining your ass deeply and teaching you the pleasure of having big dick in stuffing your tight hole. You like getting manhandled like this, don’t you Y/N. You wanted this all along, didn’t you?” Doyoung dirtily questioned the younger.
“Mhm-AAHH,” Y/N yelled out through the fabric stuffed in his mouth as his eyes rolled back from Doyoung’s large cock rubbing right against his prostate. Doyoung smirked at the reaction and began incessantly thrusting right at Y/N’s prostate as his cock began twitching uncontrollably.
“I’m gonna breed you and make you my personal boy. My cock is going to feed your ass with a huge amount of daddy’s cum. I want your ass to know my dick very well since this will be a daily thing from now on, right Y/N? Your tight pink hole is all mine,” Doyoung yelled out while moving his girthy cock through the tight and moist passage Y/N provided.
Every thrust had Y/N’s hole twitching around Doyoung’s cock as his walls squeezed and hugged his veins tightly. Doyoung was enjoying such a tight, pure ass after so long and swore to make it completely his by marking it up with his hot cum. He wanted the shape of his cock impressioned inside Y/N’s hole so it was clear it belonged to him.
“So-so BIG DOYOUNG,” Y/N yelled out with a muffled voice while simulate pulse licking the shorts in his mouth to enjoy the pheromones of Doyoung’s cock that was thrusting in his ass mercilessly, opening it up for the first time.
Y/N was full of overstimulation as he felt the warmth from Doyoung’s large muscles, smell from his underwear, and his huge cock abusing his prostate with perfect technique and precision, sending rippling waves of pleasure throughout his body.
Doyoung had succeeded, as there was no way Y/N wouldn’t be able to resist having this pleasure coursing throughout his body every single day. Y/N knew only Doyoung’s girth cock, still pounding away at his squelching hole, would be able to satisfy him.
Doyoung’s cock continued to fill Y/N’s ass perfectly to the brim, stretching out his asshole so much for the first time, and making the experience addictive for both.
“You want my cum now, bitch boy? You want daddy to cum in you and mark you his? You’re gonna take this big load, i’ve been saving it just for this tight ass. You want everyone to see that only I can pound you this rough and good,” Doyoung asked with pride as his thrusts got faster, never faltering.
“MAKE ME YOURS DADDY, FILL UP MY HOLE WITH YOUR CUM AND IMPREGNATE ME! I ONLY WANT YOUR HUGE DICK MR KIM,” Y/N moaned while pushing his ass back onto Doyoung’s cock meeting his thrusts.
“I’m the only one who’s good enough to take you and I’m cumming in your ass cause it belongs to me now. A youngster like you needs the semen of a mature daddy in your ass to really be broken in fully,” Doyoung moaned out as he felt his climax nearing.
Doyoung pulled out and slapped his humongous cock inside Y/N once again, bulging his abdomen and causing him to let out a loud moan of pleasure as Doyoung groaned, leaning his head back as his cock let out years of semen into Y/N’s ass, painting his pink walls fully with the color of Doyoung’s cum. The sound of large spurts forcefully landing on Y/N’s pink walls abused by Doyoung’s cock filled the room. Doyoung had finished taking and impregnating a virgin Y/N with his large cock and his cum that now squelched the inside of Y/N’s ass.
Doyoung slowly moved his cock back and forth to let Y/N’s ass feel the warmth of his hot semen as Y/N came from the feeling, releasing in giant threads all over Doyoung’s mattress, out of a great pleasure that Y/N had never felt before.
“Keep your huge dick inside my ass daddy, I don’t want any of your cum to leave me and prevent me from fully getting pregnant, Y/N moaned out slutily.
“Of course my Y/N-ie, I definitely needed a horny neighbor like you,” Doyoung smirked back as his cock became hard again and the thrusting resumed, overstimulating Y/N with a pleasure that made his mind go blank over and over again, as another session of many commenced.
#kpop smut#smut fic#kpop x male reader#male reader#m/n#y/n#kpop x male reader smut#kpop muscle#sm town#sm entertainment#sm family#sm x male reader#kim doyoung x male reader#kim doyoung x male reader smut#kim dongyoung#kim dongyoung x male reader smut#kim dongyoung x male reader#kim doyoung x reader#nct doyoung x male reader#doyoung fic#doyoung x y/n#doyoung x male reader#dongyoung x male reader#nct x male reader#nct smut#nct fanfic#nct doyoung#doyoung x male reader smut#nct 127#nct 127 x male reader
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the babysitter ʚɞ
pairing: miguel o’hara x reader
synopsis: miguel offered you a job babysitting his daughter, gabrielle. his marriage is going through a rough time and you’re someone he can confide in
wc: 2.2k
warnings!: alcohol, age gap, infidelity, loss of virginity, piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), cowgirl
nia’s ౨ৎ notes: i lovee dilfs so bad
"y/n can you make me ramen, please. i loveeeee the way you make it" gabby came downstairs to ask you. currently, you were lolling around on the couch in the living room watching tv on the big screen. you were babysitting gabrielle o'hara, your neighbors' daughter. you started the job when your mom invited them over for dinner and her dad asked if you were available to watch her for a while, you weren't that busy so you said yes and after that they decided to officially hire you.
her parents were out at the moment, miguel at work. "yeah sure" you smiled, pausing your show and getting up to the kitchen while gabby sat on the couch with her tablet. you reached in the pantry for a pack of noodles, grabbing hot sauce, green onions, and extra seasonings on your way. you waited for the ramen to boil then began adding everything.
"hey you guys okay?" you heard a voice coming from the front room. miguel threw his his keys on the counter and took his shoes off at the door. "daddy!" gabby exclaimed running up to give her dad a hug. "ahh mi cielito, what are you still doing up?" he asked giving her a kiss on the cheek and picking her up into his arms. "oh that's my fault actually she asked to stay up a little longer and she's too cute i couldn't say no" you giggled. he nod his head and smiled before gabby yawned "you ask to stay up and you can't even thug it out?" he laughed. "why don't you go upstairs and brush your teeth and go to bed huh?" he told her.
"okay daddy" she grumbled running up the stairs to go to bed. you'd completely forgot about the noodles you just made "wait i actually just made her some noodles.." you pointed to the kitchen. "oh well, i'm starving" he smiled moving towards the kitchen.
you put some noodles in a bowl for each of you before you sat next to him at the kitchen island. "so how's school going" he asked you, taking a bite. you were a sophomore in university, studying for your degree. "good, it's a little tough but i can manage" you answered him. "you're a good kid, you'll do great i'm sure of it" he smiled. "hope gab wasn't too much trouble today" "no no she was great, she's so adorable i love her." you giggled. "yeah, think she misses her mom" he sighed.
"oh, where is she anyway?" you asked him, as nosy as ever. "she's on some business trip" he answered, mockery laced in his tone. "but between you and me, i think she's seeing someone behind my back." he rolled his eyes. "oh i'm so sorry." you looked at him with a sympathetic expression. "ah it's alright, things've been kind of rocky lately anyway"
he moved his leg ever so slightly, the fabric of his jeans rubbing up against your knee. and he didn't move it, you two sat like that just talking for the next twenty minutes until you checked the time and figured you should head home. "have a good night and thank you as always" he smiled, handing you $200 and sent you on your way.
ʚɞ
you were curled up on the couch, stressing about an assignment you had to finish by the end of the night. "hey." miguel greeted, resting his hands on the chair behind you, leaning over. "oh, hi mr o'hara. i didn't hear you come in, gabby's in bed by the way i'm just trying to finish up this assignment without destroying this laptop." you sighed. he snorted a little at your frustration. "rough day?" he asked you. "yeah, kinda"
"why don't you take a break for a little? have a drink?" he offered, moving to his wine cooler to grab a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "i've had a bit of a rough day too." you weren't one for drinking - you couldn't even do it legally yet, still a year away from that. but you were stressed and you figured a load off couldn't hurt so you got up and went over to join him at the island.
he moved the glass in front of you before finding his seat next to you. "so what were you working on that's got you so tense" he asked taking a sip from his glass. "just some stupid shit from my business class, what about you? why'd you have such a bad day?" you answered. "well, turns out bella has been seeing someone. from work, buddy of mine told me" he sighed.
"oh i'm sorry mr o'hara" you put your hand out on his arm, face expressing your sorry. "really it's fine" he brushed off "just don't know how she could break us up like that, especially for gabby. probecita bebé" you frowned, feeling bad for him. i mean who could ever cheat on him. he was smart, kind, and really handsome. you studied his features looking at his messy brown hair, the way his 5 o'clock shadow graced his chiseled jaw, his milky brown eyes under his surprisingly long lashes. you looked at the way his t shirt clung to his biceps and the way his jeans rode low on his waist.
"what?" he chuckled at the way your stare lingered on him. "n-nothing" you nervously laughed, downing your glass of champagne. "thanks a lot for all you do for gabby, she loves you a lot. always talking about you and it's never one bad thing" he smiled at you. "think she's gonna need us a little more now with what's coming." "what do you mean?" you quirked an eyebrow. "well m'gonna file for divorce, which'll be hard on her" he poured more champagne into your glasses.
the two of you talked for a bit before you told a joke which got him laughing. he rest his hand on your thigh, the other hitting the table. when the joke was over he didn't take his hand off, he instead inched it higher up your leg. you looked at his hand before looking back up into his lustful gaze. you weren't gonna lie and say you didn't want him but he was a little more than twice your age, he had a kid for god's sake. but your wine clouded your judgement and you allowed him to lean in, attaching his lips to yours.
when you were moving an arm up around his neck your elbow bumped your wine glass off the counter, smashing on the ground. you gasped "i'm so sorry" "don't worry about it" he chuckled kissing you again. this time your hands entangled through his hair deepening the kiss. he picked you up, put his hands under your ass cheeks, kneading his fingers into it as your legs wrapped around his waist.
he moved to the stairs before you broke away "wait mr o'hara what about bella?" you breathed out. he scoffed "please she's not a problem anymore and please miguel is fine" he latched his lips back on yours. you broke away again "what about gabby?" "you said she's asleep right? just gonna have to keep it down" he smirked before kissing you again.
you got to his bedroom and he threw you on top of his comforters, crawling his way on top of you. you held onto his strong shoulders as he pressed kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your soft skin. you let out a few groans in his ear before pressing your hands against his chest. "um i-i've never done this before with anyone" you admitted.
he took a moment to look at you before taking your hand into his. "that's okay, i'll take care of you. you do still want to right?" he asked rubbing a thumb over your knuckles. you bit your lips and nod your head "m'gonna need an audible response princess" "yes, i still want you to fuck me"
that was all he needed to hear before he was back on your lips. he pulled you in his lap reached for the bottom of your shirt and tugged it over your head, rising your body to help him. he rubbed his hands up and down your waist before reaching to take your bra off. you moved your arm to cover your breasts "no need to cover up. god you're gorgeous" he whispered pressing a finger to your nipple rubbing in circles over it before pinching it between his fingers. you let out a small moan watching him as he looked up at you with a teasing smile. "so sensitive" he lapped his tongue around your nipple sucking and pulling on it while he played with the other one.
your moans began to fill the room "you're already a mess and i've barely even touched you" he teased, lightly biting your nipple. he moved you off him laying you back onto the pillows. he hooked a finger into the waistband of your sweatpants tugging them off you. he looked at the pool of moisture that stained your pretty pink panties "god baby you're soaking" he chuckled, pulling those off you too. you looked away biting your lip in embarrassment "look at me princess" he pulled your chin back to face him. he got on all fours lifting your leg over his shoulder, pressing kisses down it until he got to your entrance.
he pressed his thumb against your clit causing your body to jump in response. he licked at your entrance while continuing to rub his finger over your clit. he sucked and licked at your pussy like it was his first meal in weeks. a moan ripped out of you before you slapped a hand to your face. he squeezed a hand around each of your thighs, them caving him in as he continued to work on making you cum. your hand shot down to his head, taking a handful of his hair in your grip.
"fuck miguel, i think i'm gonna cum" you moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. "go ahead princess, cum all over my tongue" he spoke against your cunt, the vibrations sending you crazy, his facial hair tickling against you. you reached your climax and miguel lapped it up, taking every last drop in his mouth.
he wrapped you back up in his arms shoving his tongue in your mouth. "it's not fair that i'm naked and you've still got all your clothes on" you frowned reaching for the hem of his shirt. he chuckled, helping you out with the shirt before taking off his jeans and dropping them to the floor. he opened his nightstand and reached for a condom "why don’t you ride me baby, you wanna take some control for your first time?" he asked, pulling his dick out of his boxers. you gulped looking at his length, how was that supposed to fit inside you.
"uh huh" you mumbled. he laid back on the bed, taking your hand and guiding you on top of him. you straddled him before he grabbed his dick and lined himself up with your entrance. “i’ll be gentle princess” he said, moving your hair out of your face. you eased down onto his dick, his inches splitting you apart. “fuck oh my god” you whined. you rode up and down his length leaning forward to place your hands on his chest. he wrapped his hands around your waist holding you and helping you create your pace.
the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together and both of your moans and whimpers filled the room. his dick slipped out before you grabbed it again and put it back inside you. you sunk further down on it, hitting right on your g spot. you threw your head back, a pornographic moan coming from you. “fuck you sound heavenly, feel it too” miguel groaned. “m-miguel i’m gonna cum” you whined biting your lip. “go ahead baby, cum all on this dick” he whimpered. and so you did.
he leaned up to grab you and flipped you over so you were laying on the bed with him on top. he threw your legs over his shoulder so he could really drive into your cunt. he rest his hand on the headboard, leaning down to kiss you, now sloppy and rushed. “fuck, you are tight” he moaned. soon he reached his climax as well, throwing his head back, his pace slowing down.
he got up and threw the condom away, grabbing a rag with warm water on his way back. he cleaned you off and got you a pair of fresh underwear. he cleaned himself off too putting his boxers on before climbing into the bed with you. he put an arm out indicating he wanted you to lay in it, so you did and you rest your head on his chest. “so did i do a good job pleasing you for your first time” he asked, grabbing your hand to hold. you looked up at him and nodded your head “yes, i loved it” you smiled.
he traced things along your bare back until he heard your soft snores and felt your light breathing on his chest. he smiled to himself before he too fell asleep with you wrapped up in his arms.
#NIA WRITES ࿐#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x black reader#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel o’hara smut#spider man 2099#spider man 2099 smut#miguel o’hara x you
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Don't Worry Darling (gr63)
↳ A/N The best part about watching movies as a writer, is being inspired to write my own spin-off of the plot. I was absolutely gagged when I watched DWD and this came of it.
↳ Inspired By Don't Worry Darling (2022)
↳ Summary: Married and thriving in an idealised community based on routine, gender roles, and arguable paradise, you and George seem to be just as perfect together as the utopia you live within - but not everything is as it seems on the surface.
↳ Pairings: George Russell x Wife!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 21.7k
↳ Warnings: 18+, gender roles, smut, oral (f reciving), breeding kink to the maaaax (and the applicable dirty talk to go along with it), one or two instances of 'mommy' and 'daddy' but not in the spicy sense, unprotected sex (we're trying to make a baby here, people), some descriptions of sickness, brief mention of suicide, some mention of medical content, dark undertones.
The summer sun danced across the freshly cleaned carpeted floors, lining perfectly with the horizontal streaks from the vacuum that had been taken to it only a few moments before. The single storey house smelt of fresh linen and citrus cleaning products and the full glass windows sparkled brilliantly in the early afternoon sun. Outside in the backyard, the two rows of clotheslines were hung over pristine green grass and the crisp white sheets were hung perfectly over each line and pinned precisely on each end. The wind rippled through them in the calm breeze, wafting clean scents across the trimmed backyard and tended garden of flourishing flowers.
In your pastel blue dress, the empty laundry basket rested on your hip as you returned inside from tending to the laundry, a gentle whistle on your lips to a tune you couldn’t quite place but had been stuck in your head for a few days. Your white kitten heels walked silently across the perfectly vacuumed carpet back towards the mudroom that was tucked beside the garage and took the last load of laundry out of the washing machine to place in the basket.
The crisp white dress shirts were hung on the clothesline in the backyard beside the clean sheets, pinned delicately by their shoulders so the wind could take their freshness and dry them in the summer air.
Rain was never a concern as the neighbourhood in which you lived never had a day of spotty weather. In fact, since the day you and your husband moved into the desert oasis town, there had been nothing but comfortable temperatures and clear skies. It was just another confirmation that your decision to move out of your every-day society and into this private section of the world was the correct one.
Running your hands down the front of the final clean dress shirt, you leaned in towards it to inhale the fresh scent of fabric softener that encapsulated the fibres and filled your senses with the familiarity that was your husband. With him away at work during the days, one might think that you would get lonely. On the contrary, there were always things for you to take up your time with. If you weren’t cleaning the house for his return, preparing dinner, or tending to the garden, you had lots of opportunities to visit the shops in town, lounge by the pool with the other ladies in the neighbourhood, or attend ballet classes where you could. Life had no stress. Life was perfect.
With the laundry drying in the yard, you returned inside to begin preparing dinner. Your white apron was tied around your waist and you flipped open your recipe book to select your evening meal. Missing your husband a little extra that afternoon, you decided to make his favourite for his homecoming.
On freshly scrubbed countertops and over the sparkling clean stove, you prepared the meal for him delicately and with nothing but your utmost attention to detail. He deserved nothing more than perfection. The meat was seasoned by your careful manicured hands and laid in a bed of onions and potatoes and spices in the oven to roast, the timer set for an exact hour. With the vegetables cooking on the stovetop and the counters washed down from dinner prep, you began to set the dining table for two.
The china dishes that had been a wedding gift were set between carefully placed sterling silver cutlery and two slim candles were lit in the centre of the table. You crouched in front of the fireplace that divided the dining room from the living room and lit the flame, making sure it caught on the kindling before you shut the glass to protect the pristine home you kept from the smoke or flame. On your way back to the kitchen, you dimmed the dining room lighting down to a romantic glow and stopped by the record player to set one of your shared favourite records to play softly in the background.
When the clock struck 5:00, you had just placed the roast on the table alongside the dishes of vegetables and salad and you hurried across the carpet floor towards the bar. Your apron was pulled off and tossed under the counter and out of sight and you quickly poured a perfect amount of golden liquor into a crystal glass and took it with you to the front door. The moment you reached the foyer, you had just a second to make sure you looked your best in the mirror by the door as the headlights flashed through the frosted glass window down the left hand side of the front door.
The sound of footsteps on the front porch guided you to open the door with an eager smile, revealing your husband on the other side. In his work shoes and black jacket, his hand was tucked casually in the front pocket of his slacks with his briefcase in his other hand. He wore no tie but the buttoned up white shirt that you had ironed for him that morning was already slightly creased from his long day and would require laundering. But your attention was all focused on his perfectly gelled brown hair and his loving eyes that sparkled in the warm light that surrounded you.
George was already smiling as if anticipating your usual greeting after a long day away and he stepped over the threshold of your shared home and set his briefcase by the door without tearing his eyes away from you for a second.
“Welcome home, sunshine.” you said sweetly, offering out his drink.
“Hi, sweetheart.” he whispered adoringly, stepping closer to you and he slid his hands around your waist to rest against the small of your back and he pulled you right up against him for a swift kiss.
Your free hand easily wrapped around his shoulders as he walked you backwards farther into your house, the two of you sharing love-sick kisses after a long day apart.
“How was your day?” you asked softly, when he pulled away from you for a half second to lick his lips.
“Absolute shit until now.” George whispered back, moving right in once more and he let one of his hands raise to cradle your jaw and guide your lips back on his. He lingered on your mouth for a second before his hand finally dropped to take his glass from you.
“Then it’s a good thing I made your favourite.” you said, starting to unbutton his jacket for him as he sipped his drink all while staring at you and leading you both farther into the house and towards the dining room.
“Mhm?” George blindly set his still half-full glass on the kitchen counter with a dull clink as you both passed by briefly so he could pull you back in for more kisses.
You smiled against his mouth and your hands rested daintily against his chest as he leaned into you, expertly keeping up with the way his lips locked with yours in feverish kisses as if he had been too deprived of you. His large hands cascaded down your body and over your hips, steering you towards your perfectly set dinner table under the ambiance of the romantic music crackling from the record player and the fireplace flickering nearby.
“Cleaned the whole house for you too.” you continued between kisses even as your hands pushed his jacket from his shoulders and let it fall to the crisply vacuumed carpet.
“Yeah, it looks so good, darling.” George breathed into your mouth as his hands grabbed your thighs and he hiked you right up onto the end of the dining room table.
In all reality, he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you from the second you opened the door for him. The entire house could have been trashed and graffitied and he wouldn’t have even batted an eyelash because all his focus was on you. It had been that way for as long as you could remember - ever since he first laid eyes on you - and your honeymoon phase only followed you well into your first year of marriage. The whole neighbourhood knew that well. No one was as perfect for each other or as perfect together as you and George were.
Eyes locked, you were breathing heavily into each other’s open mouths as his hands helped themselves up your skirt and you shifted to help him tug your panties down your legs. They were easily tossed to the floor and George’s lips went for your neck, trailing impatient wet kisses down your skin until he was dropping to his knees at the head of the table.
“Oh, I missed you.” you breathed to the ceiling as he bunched up your dress around your waist and then dragged his tongue right between your legs. Your sharp inhale had him doing it again before he was wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling your legs over his shoulders.
You fell onto your back against the table with a gasp, your hands knocking the salad bowl to the floor without concern as you messily caught yourself against the wood top. The simple touch of his mouth against your cunt had your breathing falling shallow and you gasped to the peaked ceiling of your mid-century home as you laid out on the dining table like you were dinner itself.
George hummed gladly against your pussy as he warmed you up with filthy wet kisses. He acted like he had been deprived of you for weeks but in reality it had barely been twenty-four hours since you found yourself in a similar position. Your relationship really had nothing but strength in all aspects behind it.
The feeling of his warm wet tongue gliding up flatly between your lips had your back arching off the table with a strangled gasp and your hands flew above your head to try and grab onto something, only knocking off the two place settings you had so meticulously set. The carpeted floor caught them delicately and without much of a sound but you were all too focused on the way George’s mouth felt to care about anything else. He lapped filthily at your clit as your breaths turned into moans and he nuzzled his face deeper into you, having craved you all day.
“George-” you gasped to the ceiling, eyes screwing shut as he flicked his tongue over your clit in quick patterns. “Oh my God.”
He moaned up against you and let his fingers press into the flesh of your thighs as he held your legs over his shoulders hungrily, playing with your swollen clit until your toes were curling and your back was arching. The filthy slurps and smacks of his mouth and tongue against your pussy were arousing and they easily drowned out the sound of the gentle record player across the room, harmonizing perfectly with your breathless whimpers and moans that were all for him.
He was ruthless with it, eating you out like he wholeheartedly craved you until you were writhing against the wood dining table. Your hands flew down to his head between your legs and your fingers raked through his styled brown hair to tug pleadingly on the roots to feel him closer, to feel more of him. Mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, you peered down your body towards him but the voluminous skirt of your dress hindered your view slightly. Instead, you let your head fall back against the table, your back arching, and you let him urge the moans from your chest.
“Fuck, baby.” you choked out, pulling at his hair harder.
His tongue on your pussy had you quivering and he knew you like the back of his hand; always knowing right where you needed him and how to make you see stars. He tugged you a little closer to the edge of the table so he could get more of his mouth on you and his hands pried your thighs open wider, giving him full access to every inch of you.
Your moans grew louder, pitchier, your hips trying to grind against his face as his tongue ravaged your clit mercilessly until you were flushing warm all over and aching for release. One of your hands reached above your head to grab the edge of the table, swatting the bowl of peas and carrots to the carpet blindly as you did so but you didn’t care. You were all too hung up on him and his perfect mouth.
“Oh, darling-” you cried to the ceiling, “I’m gonna cum-”
George kept his tongue on your clit, lapping quickly at it at that same consistent pace that made you dizzy. Gasping and moaning through the romantic air, you let him take the pleasure from your veins until you were falling perfectly silent and your eyes rolled shut as your back arched helplessly off the table.
George’s deep moan against you sent shockwaves up your spine as he licked and suckled at your cunt as you came for him, soaking his mouth in your creamy liquids that satisfied his cravings just so. You completely sobbed out his name once the height of your orgasm washed over you, your fingers clutching his hair to hold him against you just a little bit longer. He pulled away with a sharp inhale and a lick to his lips, standing up smoothly to let your legs fall gently back to the edge of the table.
You brushed your hands over your once-tidy hair and peered down your body to where he stood at the head of the table unbuckling his belt with nothing but the strongest lust in his eyes. You hiked up the skirt of your dress some more and smeared your fingers through your messy cunt that was shimmering wet for him and from him.
“Come here.” George ordered lowly as he kicked off his shoes across the carpeted floor and let his pants follow before he was sitting himself down on the stray dining chair, his hard cock standing stiff and swollen with need for you.
You were still shuttering from your orgasm but you pushed yourself up from the tabletop and slid off the edge to land on your feet, your heels catching you silently against the carpet. He patted his thigh and then held out his hand to you, encouraging you over and helped you to toss a leg over his lap to straddle him. George shuffled up the large skirt of your dress and you helped him pull it over your head and drop it to the floor behind you, leaving you in only your bra and him in only his shirt as your lips found each other’s again.
His hands groped your ass, pulling you closer to him hungrily as your lips smacked wetly together amid tongue-led kisses. Your arms around his shoulders allowed your fingers to tangle in his hair and you pulled his head closer until he was leaning into you to keep kissing you, sharing moans and breaths of nothing but pure erotica together.
“Oh, baby.” you breathed out of your heated kisses, tilting your head back as his lips magnetized to your neck and your hands cradled his head adoringly.
“I want you on my cock.” George spoke lowly against your neck, “I want you bouncing on my fucking cock.”
“Yes, please.” you shifted on his lap to rise up slightly with your feet planted on either side of him and he reached down to angle his dick for you.
With your hands on his shoulders, you slowly sunk down on his dick to feel every inch of it stretching you out snugly. Mouth falling open, your thighs met his lap and you moaned shakily at the warm stretch he gave you, swirling your hips lazily to feel him everywhere.
“Good girl, darling.” George praised, resting back against the chair with his hands securely on your hips.
Right away, you began to bounce on him, using the anchor of your feet on the carpeted ground on either side of the dining chair to keep you supported. You leaned your head back with a gentle shake to get your hair out of your face but kept your hands on his shoulders with your fingers gripping onto the once ironed white fabric.
“Fuck, that’s my good fucking girl.” George praised through his teeth.
“Oh my God.” you groaned out shakily.
You were addicted to the clap of your skin together; the filthy lewd sound that was proof of your undying love and devotion to each other. How you were the pair that everyone else envied.
When your eyes met, you could feel your insides fluttering from only his stare and the stormy mixture of love and lust that settled behind his gaze. Fingers tangled in the back of his hair, you held him close as you greedily fucked yourself on his lap, completely salivating at the feeling of his generous cock sheathed so perfectly inside you. It was hard to keep your eyes open with the pleasure that surged within you but your husband’s stare was completely addictive. He stared at you like you were the world and with his hands on your hips, he helped you guide you through your bounces until you were choking out the sweetest moans.
George pulled you close by your waist so you could rest right down against his chest and your arms went right around his shoulders, allowing you to share another sloppy kiss as your bounces moulded into purposeful grinds. You moaned into each other’s mouths as your pussy gripped around his cock with each roll of your hips, your feet still tucked in your heels looping around the back legs of the dining chair to five yourself some added leverage to help yourself to his body. Grinding on him back and forth, a little faster, you broke your kiss with a soft gasp, letting your head fall backwards and his lips found your neck.
George’s hands groped your ass and he pulled you into your motions steadily, making sure you were able to feel all of each other as much as possible. His teeth sunk gently into your flesh where your neck met your shoulder and he groaned tightly against your skin as you ground down on him faster, harder, whining for more. He spanked your ass before gliding his hands up your back and he let his furrowed gaze find your face, staring at the pleasure that took over your features. Your hands gripped the back of his hair and the back of his shirt, rolling your body against his hungrily as your lips were drawn together again.
Both of you shared hungry moans and sloppy kisses as you ground yourself down on his dick and rode him purposefully on the dining room chair. The dinner that hadn’t been swiped to the ground in your initial rush was growing cold on the serving dishes but the waste of your hard work was truly the last thing on your mind. Instead, your attention was taken up by your handsome husband and the feeling of his warm skin taking you over - body and soul.
Breaking your wet tongue-led kiss with a whimpering gasp, your head fell back for a moment as your hips lead their course on his lap, fingers clutching his hair and his shirt as you swirled yourself back and forth on his dick and watched how his handsome face was stricken in pleasure. His hands on your waist urged you to shift again and you gladly moved back into steady bounces using the anchor of your heels on the carpeted floor.
“Oh my God, George.” you choked out, keeping your eyes on his. “Yes.”
His deep groans in time with every bounce of your body on his lap filled the warm romantic air between you, his hands gripping a little tighter to your hips to pull you down a little harder, a little faster.
“Good girl.” he praised lowly.
“Are you close?” you asked shakily.
“Yeah, baby.” his voice was strained slightly and he stared down his body to watch how you took him all with every ungraceful stroke, his feet planted firmly on the carpet as he stayed slouched back against the dining chair. “Fuck.”
“I want you to come in me.” you breathed shakily.
“Yeah?” George’s right hand rose from your waist to hold your jaw tenderly and his thumb slid into your mouth, “Want me to put a baby in you?”
“Fuck- uh huh-“ you groaned through his thumb, shamelessly bouncing harder on his lap until your thighs were aching.
“Mhm?” George’s eyes flicked between your face and his lap, watching you fuck yourself on him with his feet anchroed securely on the carpeted dining room floor. He had been waiting and dreaming for his homecoming all day, desperate for this exact moment. He knew all too well that you would never say no to him. You were equals but you were such a good wife.
George pulled his thumb out of your mouth and slid his hand around the back of your neck to pull your forehead against his as he groaned into his orgasm. You squeezed your muscles tightly around him, making his face screw up in pleasure as his cock throbbed within the tight confines of your cunt and you finally were blessed with that first feeling of him spurting warmly inside you. You shuttered on top of him, grinding down strongly against his lap as you held each other close and met his timing almost perfectly. Your moans together were harmonious and perfect and your heart soared with adoration for him as your souls connected in the dim lighting of your shared home.
“Fuck, darling-” George breathed out of it, holding you to his chest with his entire arms around your back, keeping you grinding against him as your orgasm tapered off.
“Holy shit.” you whimpered quietly against his cheek, your fingers gripping tightly to the back of his shirt, your thighs trembling as you sat all your weight down on his lap to take the weight off your feet.
His hands caressed your back and you moved to be able to meet his gaze as he asked cheekily, “So, how was your day?”
You giggled sweetly and leaned in to kiss his lips, “Amazing. Even more amazing now that you’re home.”
“Missed you so much.” George admitted.
“I can tell.” you smiled, scratching your fingers through the back of his hair.
George tore his eyes away from your loving gaze so he could look towards the dining room table that was left in complete disarray from his rushed entry. He leaned forward slightly to rest his head against your shoulder and you kissed his head and ran your hand through his hair.
“Sorry for, uh, ruining your dinner.” he whispered.
“That’s okay. Worth it.” you assured him, “But you’re cleaning it up.”
“Okay.” he chuckled and raised his head from your shoulder to kiss your lips again.
You took his face in your dainty hands, whispering between gentle chasté kisses, “I love you.”
George smiled peacefully, staring at your adoringly, “I love you.”
His lips peppered kisses down your jaw and your neck and his hands squeezed your ass to prompt you to get up. You moved cautiously as you stood from his lap, letting a thick drop of white slip out of you and onto his thigh and he leaned in to kiss your hip as his hands guided you off of him.
“Any symptoms yet?” he asked gently as you bent down to grab your underwear and pull them on.
“Don’t think so.” you answered with a shrug.
“It’ll happen.” he almost promised.
You stood between his legs and rested your forearms on his shoulders to lean in towards him, “Hopefully.”
“It will.” his large hands caressed your thighs.
You shared a soft kiss.
George patted your bum, “Okay, go wash up. I’ll clean this mess and slice up that roast for us. Looks like it survived the chaos.”
You kissed him once more and then slid out of his arms. Picking up your dress from the floor, you headed across the open living room and down the opposite hallway that turned towards the back of the house and led to your bedroom. You pulled out your nightgown from your dresser drawer and helped yourself to the pastel painted ensuite to freshen up, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
Once perfectly styled hair was falling out of its pins and your cheeks were flushed from more than just the light coat of foundation and blush that you had applied earlier that day. You felt giddy and warm and yet a tinge of anxiety lingered in the back of your mind as you turned to the side and ran a hand over the flat natural curve of your stomach. You had been trying for a baby for only four weeks but you were impatient for the next phase of your perfect life with your perfect husband and with every passing day, you only got more and more ansty. George promised it would happen when it happens but you were both so familiar with things coming so easily to the two of you that not having results instantaneously was almost tortuous.
Returning to the main space of your single storey house, George was in the kitchen in only his underwear and half unbuttoned white dress shirt, tidying up the dishes and scraping the spilled food into the garbage. To anyone else, they might have been more than annoyed that their hard-work that went into making dinner had gone to unappreciated waste but it was never that serious to you. You lived to give George whatever he wanted and when all he truly wanted was you? Who were you to deny him that?
You leaned against the counter that divided the kitchen from the rest of the space and watched George putter around for a moment before he saw you. He smiled over at you and then brought over the plate of sliced meat that he had taken from the table and cut up himself. Setting it between you, he picked up one of the pieces and fed it to you from his fingers.
“Little cold now.” you chuckled softly.
“Still good.” he complimented, taking a bite for himself.
You stood on either side of the peninsula counter and shared the plate of your half-cold dinner, one of the candles from the table resting between you and still lit. Moments like that only rehashed the idea of your perfect imperfection that was you and him.
“You look beautiful right now.”
You raised your eyes from the plate, slipping one more piece of meat into your mouth as you met his loving stare.
With a bashful smile, you shrugged, and spoke through your small mouthful, “I’m just in my nightgown.”
“I know.” George leaned over the counter and captured your lips with his in a swift kiss.
You smiled against his mouth and raised a hand up to dust your fingertips over his jaw before you were gently pushing him away from your lips. He reached over to gently tug at your pouted bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before standing up straight again and kept your eye contact from across the counter.
“I love you so much.” you whispered.
“I love you more.”
The faint crackling of the record player in the living room drew your attention across the open space of your modest house and George drifted around the counter and danced his hand over your waist on his way past you. You took another bite of your makeshift dinner and watched as he lifted the needle from the turntable to remove the record and slide it back into its case. Whistling happily in his half-dressed state, George skimmed your collection of records and pulled out a new one to place carefully on the turntable.
The tune he kept was the same tune you had stuck in your head for a few days and you inquired, “My love, what song is that you’re whistling?”
George glanced up at you from across the living room, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth seeing you in the light of the kitchen behind your figure, and he looked back down to the record that he spun between his hands and then set it into its place on the turntable, “I dunno, darling. I think it’s just some random song.”
“I’ve had it stuck in my head for a while now.” you explained, leaning back against the counter.
“Mhm?” George seemed to shrug you off as he set the needle back on the record and the speaker crackled as it found its way into the groove.
The house was filled with gentle romantic music and he turned up the volume as the voice of the vocalist flooded the space around you. George’s whistling moulded into the tune of the song playing and he did a little spin as he slunk his way saucily across the floor towards you. He climbed the three carpeted steps of the sunken living room and serenaded you with his rhythmic sways and motions as he approached you. You laughed softly at his goofiness and he held out his hands to you as he whistled along to the music.
When you didn’t make a move to join him for a few seconds - just staring at him while leaning back against the counter with an adoring smile on your face - he requested of you simply, “Dance with me.”
You pushed yourself away from the counter and set your hands in his, letting him pull you close to his body as he slid an arm around your waist and let his other hand stay holding yours beside you. He was the most angelic man you had ever seen and you set your hand around his shoulder as he guided you into gentle sways along with the music.
You closed your eyes and melted into his chest, cheek to cheek, falling heavenly into the comfort of his embrace and the way his body moved with yours. His pitch perfect voice spoke right to your heart as he hummed quietly as you danced slowly in place within your cozy home, swaying to the rhythm of the record. With you in your nightgown and George in his underwear and dress shirt, you were perfectly domestic in that moment, the warmth in your heart swirling around the two of you wrapped as one.
“Someday soon we won’t be able to do this.” George whispered to you.
The ominous nature of his statement had you shifting your head to look him in the eye, “What? Why?”
George just smiled sweetly and rubbed his thumb over the small of your back, “Because there’s going to be a baby growing between us soon. We’ll have to be a good arm's length apart.”
You grinned back at him bashfully and leaned into him again so his lips pressed against your cheek for a quick kiss and then his head rested against yours. He led your gentle swaying on the plush carpet in the warm glow of the fireplace and your cozy home, only growing the adoring flutter in your heart.
“I can’t wait.” you breathed.
“Me neither.” George gave your joint hands a little squeeze.
“I love you.” you whispered.
“I love you.” George found your lips with his, kissing away any of your anxieties surrounding the unknown future with his love that comforted you always.
The ringing of George’s alarm clock woke you at dawn, just like any other weekday. He was cuddled up behind you in your spacious bed, wrapping you up in the warmth of the sheets and his embrace. You sighed deeply as you were forced into consciousness and as you shifted to stretch in George’s arms, he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Morning, darling.” he mumbled sleepily, his alarm still ringing from his side of the bed.
“Morning, sunshine.” you yawned, earning another cheek kiss from your husband before he was shifting away from you to reach over and swat off the alarm.
You rolled after him under the blankets and as he turned back around from shutting off his clock, you draped yourself across his bare chest to admire him happily in the faint morning light that peeked through the sides of your curtains. He stroked your hair and you tapped your index finger against his lips before you leaned in to kiss them softly. He smiled at you and met you halfway for another.
“Did you sleep okay?” you asked quietly.
“Yeah.” he lazily draped his arm around your back, “Did you?”
You nodded, still tired from your deep sleep you had just awoken from, and your gaze stayed focused on his familiar face. Reaching your hand up from his chest you caressed his cheek with your thumb and across his jaw that housed a faint dusting of hair that was in need of his daily morning shave. He moved his head slightly to press his lips against the pad of your thumb and you giggled adoringly and stretched your body out on top of his as if not wanting to let him get up.
“Do you wanna stay in bed?” George asked.
“With you?” you replied hopefully.
“No.” he smiled sadly at you and stroked your hair again, “I gotta go to work and make some money for us and our future babies.”
You bit back your smile but didn’t make a move to get off him, still staring lovingly at his face.
“Okay?” he patted your bum over the blankets.
You reached a hand up to gently scoop some sleep from the corner of his eye for him with your index finger and a soft melancholy hum and he scrunched his eyes closed and tried to turn away. You sighed dramatically and rested your chin on your hand against his chest to stare at him just a little longer before you would both have to get up.
George’s finger traced the bridge of your nose and then plopped against your lips, tugging gently at the bottom one, whispering to you once more, “Okay?”
You nodded, breathing out a forced agreement, “Okay.”
You moved off of him and let him get out of bed and you watched from your cozy spot against the headboard as he trudged across the room and pushed open the curtains to let the tidal wave of early morning sun flood your four walls. Standing in the light in only his underwear, George was almost just a silhouette to you and as he stretched his arms above his head with a waking yawn and skimmed over your perfectly manicured backyard, you nearly swooned. As the man of your house, he made you weak by simply existing. How you adored him.
Your eyes followed him as he walked across the bedroom towards the ensuite and, like every weekday morning, you let him get ready for his day without hassle. He naturally left the door open and you could see in the reflection of the mirror how he stripped out of his underwear into nothingness and then stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind him. The water turned on and then his whistle followed, waking himself up in warm water a good tune.
Now alone in your shared bed, you stretched your arms over your head and forced your limbs to wake up, the slight comfortable tension on your muscles forcing the reminisce of your evening reunion to leak out of you and into your underwear. The sheets had fallen down to your waist from George climbing out of bed and you dropped your hands to rest on your stomach with an impatient sigh, staring down at your soft skin exposed to the morning sunlight. Sleeping bare beside him to allow your skin to touch completely was your favourite way to sleep as you so easily learned after you wed and moved into your perfect home together. He always felt so close that way.
When your bare feet hit the carpeted floor and you rose from the mattress, you reached for his white button up dress shirt that he had worn the previous day and had discarded to the chair in the corner of the room. Keeping yourself modest within your empty house, you buttoned up the bottom three buttons, and then straightened out the creased fabric in the full length mirror.
You stopped by the bathroom door, leaning against the frame as you called out to your showering husband, “Darling love; I’m going to start breakfast.”
“Okay, sweetheart, thank you.” George called back through the water and patterned shower curtain.
Your bare feet patted softly down the picture frame lined hallway that was bathed in sunlight from the floor to ceiling windows opposite, and you turned into the main space of your house that had been silent from nightfall. You opened the curtains and turned on the radio to bring your house to life as you began the routine of your mornings.
As usual, the weather was bright and clear and the sun had just barely made it above the horizon, meeting you outside in the backyard with refreshing crisp air and a wash of golden light, filtered only by the neighbouring houses and your clotheslines. The laundry that you had hung up the previous day was now perfectly dry and you unpinned one of the fresh white shirts that matched the one you were wearing and brought it back inside with you as the iron was heating up. The radio announcer spoke to the news of your uneventful town where the most interesting happenings consisted of shopping centre sales or the community pool being closed for cleaning.
The ironing board was set up in the living room and you draped the clean shirt across it to be met with the steaming iron. The creases were steamed and ironed out of the fabric with ease and you found yourself humming that same mysterious tune as you worked, constantly stuck in your head. When the shirt was left neatly on the ironing board for retrieval by your husband, you continued on to the kitchen to put his lunch together and get breakfast started, letting the radio’s news mould into morning hits that livened your home with music.
George joined you in the kitchen a few minutes later, lured from the bedroom by the smell of bacon and coffee in only his dress slacks and socks with his tie draped around his bare neck, his face shaved, and his brown hair already combed and gelled to perfection. At the sight of you in the kitchen in only his shirt and your little panties, George was grinning slyly and walking over to you at the stove. He wrapped his arms around your waist and dipped his face in your neck to kiss your skin.
“Mm, good morning, beautiful woman.” he said lowly against the shell of your ear, the smoothness of his voice enough to butter your toast that morning.
“Good morning, handsome.” you replied sweetly, setting your free hand that wasn’t holding a spatula against his around your middle as you leaned back into him to welcome his lips on yours in a few lingering kisses. When he broke your kisses, your eyes shamelessly skimmed his face and chest and you reached your hand up to touch his smooth jaw, “Mm, you look so yummy.”
“Says you in this little outfit, baby, goddamn.” George tisked, giving your ass a little two handed squeeze that made you squeak in surprise and he kissed your neck again.
“You’re an easy man to please, my dearest.” you said as he drifted away from you across the space to retrieve his shirt from the ironing board.
“You make it easy.” he praised right back as he shrugged on his shirt and buttoned it up on his way back towards you.
He paused as he tucked the shirt into his pants and then stopped to open the front door and grab the newspaper from the porch.
“Coffee’s in your mug already.” you told him as he shut the door again.
Returning to the kitchen with the promise of coffee, already skimming the headlines, he answered you haphazardly, “You’re a perfect woman, baby.”
“Perfect for you, George Russell, and don’t you forget it.” you waved the spatula at him from across the kitchen and he smiled over at you as he lifted his steaming mug of coffee up to his lips for a sip.
He stood at the island with the newspaper laid out before him and he skimmed the stories and articles as he tied his tie around his neck and set his collar down neatly and flipped through the pages as he sipped his morning coffee. You cracked farm fresh eggs into the skillet beside the bacon, watching how the grease sizzled and crackled as breakfast cooked, filling the kitchen with aromas that made your stomach growl. As the pan was left cooking, you tended to the toast in the toaster that had just popped and you placed the perfectly browned slices on a plate.
“What is your plan today, darling?” George asked you, his eyes following you as he sipped his coffee and left the newspaper open in front of him.
“The girls and I are going to go shopping.” you answered casually as you buttered each slice of toast. “I’m thinking my wardrobe needs a bit of a refresher but I already have a dress in mind for tonight that I haven’t had a chance to wear yet so I won’t need to buy anything new for that today. I had my eye on this set that was in the window of the department store this week - these gorgeous blue shorts and a matching blouse.”
“Blue is your colour, baby.”
“Is that why your eyes never leave me?” you flirted smoothly.
Said blue eyes - the very ones you fell in love with - winked at you over the brim of the coffee mug. You smiled widely and cut the slices of toast in halves diagonally before delivering them to where George stood at the island.
“Make sure anything you buy is put on my card.” he reminded you.
“I know, I know. That’s all they allow us to do anyway.” you tisked and returned to the stove. “I must say, every time one of the employees greets me with a ‘good morning, Mrs. Russell’ or a ‘is that all for today, Mrs. Russell’ I swear my heart skips a beat.”
George chuckled lightly at your swooning over your shared name as he took a bite of toast and then spoke through it, “It’s been a good few months now, sweetheart. Still not used to it?”
“I’m used to it.” you assured him. “I just love it.”
He just smiled down to the newspaper.
“I might attend a ballet class this afternoon too.”
“Oh?” George looked over at you again, “Does that mean I get to see you in a leotard and a little tutu?”
You rolled your eyes at him teasingly as you plated the bacon and eggs from the pan, “Don’t push your luck, mister.”
He leaned in towards you as you joined him at the island with your two plates, promising with a quiet, “I’ll be good.”
“You’re always good.” you whispered right back, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before setting the plates in front of you both.
You ate breakfast together over the newspaper and distant noise of the radio, feeding each other bites of bacon and toast and trying not to spill egg on his perfectly crisp clothes. Soon it was time for him to leave for the day and he grabbed his lunch tin that you had set earlier on the counter peninsula and you hurried over to get between him and the door.
“Wait,” you set your hands on his chest as he nearly walked right into you, “I forgot to tell you-”
“Mhm?” George encouraged you on with a little amused smile, already knowing what was coming after this almost daily routine…only made more insistent on the mornings that came after an evening with perfect heavenly love making.
“You can’t go to work.” you told him, even as he started walking slowly towards the door, forcing you to take slow steps back in time with him.
“Why not?” he pressed, his lips grazing yours with how close you stood.
“You don’t feel well, remember?” you slid your hands over his shoulders.
“Oh, I don’t?”
“No.” you licked away your smile as he had you in the foyer now, “And you need to stay home so I can cuddle you and kiss you and tend to you and nurse you back to health.”
“Oh, I see.” George blindly lifted his jacket from the hook by the door, all without tearing his eyes away from yours, “And your shopping plans?”
“Canceled for you, my love.” you answered easily, sliding your arms around his waist as he pulled his jacket on and you leaned in to kiss his smiling lips. “So we should get you into bed.”
“We should?” George had you against the front door and you stood guard in front of it to prevent him from leaving.
“Yes.” you smiled sweetly at him with your lightly frazzled hair and wrinkled shirt of his you wore.
It would have been so easy for him to fall into your little trap and stay home with you all day - it was near impossible for him to say no to you and especially so when you looked like a golden angel in the sunlight that bathed the house. Instead, he reached a hand up and caressed your cheek and then leaned in to kiss your lips once, twice, and then lingered there for a third before pulling away.
“I got to go, darling.”
Pouted in lighthearted defeat, you slunk out of his way so he could open the front door and you followed after him onto the porch, stopping him by the arm for one more kiss.
“I love you.” you said.
“I love you.” he smiled back, his eyes glancing up and down your figure and once more across your face as if memorizing you completely, “See you tonight.”
“See you.” you let your hand fall from his arm and you watched him walk down the front porch steps and around to the drivers side of his shiny car.
The other men on your little street were also saying their goodbyes to their wives and getting into their cars like clockwork but your attention was only on your husband and the way he checked his hair in the rearview mirror before sliding his sunglasses on. He caught your gaze once more and blew you a kiss before turning the key in the ignition.
With the rumble of the engine, you took one more step down the front porch in only his white buttoned shirt and blew him a kiss back, letting your hand stay outstretched in a gentle wave as he backed out of the driveway alongside the other men. Then, like a little parade, they made their way down the street in a single file row and out of sight.
Sitting around in the comfy chairs of the classy department store, you and your friends sipped champagne and discussed your mornings and the ballet class you had just returned from.
“It was more of a workout than I had thought!” one of the ladies expressed.
“Such beautiful dancing though. Do you think they’ll have us perform a show by the end of the season? I would love to be able to show my husband all that we do!”
“Oh, that would be so nice!”
“We should put in a request.”
“My husband does not so much as care about what I do, I must admit.”
“Being one of the most important men in business, it’s fair to say he’s tired when he gets home every night.”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t mind some attention from him.”
As your friends gossiped about their husbands and their home lives, you set your drink flute on the glass coffee table and stood from your chair to browse a few of the near-by racks. In a blue floral dress that swayed around your knees with every step, you held that soft tune on your lips as you gently swiped through each clothing option with the tags labeled without prices. The women never had to bother with money, it was just one way that life was made less stressful in your little picturesque neighbourhood.
One of the ladies spoke a little louder so you could hear, “All of us seem to have things we wish to improve in our marriages and then there are the Russells who could not be any more perfect if they tried.”
With a skirt in hand that you were admiring, you glanced over to your friends who all had knowing looks directed your way. You smiled and shook your head, “I wouldn’t call us perfect. No one is perfect.”
“Oh, but you’re pretty close.” one of the ladies said before turning to the rest of the group, “You won’t believe the things I hear from even the next house over. It’s like their honeymoon phase lasts for months.”
“Okay.” you laughed to try and brush her off as you set the skirt back on the rack beside you.
Another one of your friends added smoothly, “You won’t be fitting in these dresses much longer by the sounds of it then.”
The first friend only continued, “I know! If you two aren’t pregnant soon I think there must be something wrong with the universe.”
The rest of your small group agreed easily.
“Yeah.” you added, “We’ve only been actively trying for a few weeks but-”
“More like six months by what we hear next door.”
“Okay.” you hushed her with a bashful blushing smile and you turned back to the rack to skim through some more clothes. You tried not to let their innocent excitement for you get under your skin but you were anxious and impatient and wanting a baby more than anything. It hadn’t been very long but when it was the thing you prayed for most in the world, each passing hour felt like a lifetime.
You tried on the outfit you had been eyeing in the change room - that blue full skirt and matching blouse - and although it fit you like it was tailored for you, you silently wished it didn’t fit. You craved the growth of life inside you and it never seemed to leave the forefront of your mind.
Regardless, you let your anxieties out with some retail therapy as you set your blue outfit on the cash desk along with a few more casual dresses and shoes. The man behind the counter rung up your items and folded them into tissue paper and set them in a box with a neat little bow.
“Will that be everything today, Mrs. Russell?” he asked routinely.
You glanced across the counter to him, “Yes, thank you.”
“Wonderful. I will charge it to your husband’s account.” he held out the box to you, “We hope to see you again soon. I couldn’t help but overhear that it may be in our maternity department?”
You offered a polite smile and thanked him quietly as you took your box and returned to your friends who were getting ready to leave with their own purchases. Upon joining up with your little group again, you all emerged out into the sunny afternoon to make your way towards the trolley, discussing your evening in terms of your planned outfits for the neighbourhood dinner that was to be hosted at the lavish event hall in town. Your friends spoke excitedly about the dressed they had picked out and their hopes that their husbands would match their excitement at least partially. It was always nice to have a night off when you didn’t need to have dinner ready for the men’s homecoming - or so your friends touched upon. To you, everyday meant simply looking forward to George being home, regardless of what you had prepared or not. You liked to tend to him and you did so gladly.
That day, however, you felt drained. Your physical body seemed to be taking after your emotional state in that sense and by the time the trolley stopped at the end of your street and let you off and you shared quick ‘see you tonight’s with your friends as you parted ways onto your own properties, you were ready to sit down.
The house felt so quiet and empty when you were there alone and although it never usually bothered you, this afternoon only raised that looming loneliness that had been festering inside you. Trying to calm yourself down, you hummed that same gentle tune that had been stuck in your head and walked slowly down your hallway and into your master bedroom. After your morning tidy, the bed had been already made and any laundry was put away in the hamper, leaving a spotless room for you to set your shopping box down on the pulled tight sheets. With a hum on your lips, you helped yourself to the ensuite and ran a bath in the teal porcelain alcove tub, your gaze drifting over the alarm clock on the bedside table as the water filled and you stripped out of your dress and heels. George was expected home in just over an hour and you would have to be ready for him then so all he had to do was put on his formal jacket and dress shoes and you could be out the door and on your way to the party right away.
The steaming bath water forced a sigh from your chest as you lowered into it and relaxed back against the edge. Your eyes closed peacefully and you rested your head back against the wall to give yourself a moment to ease your tensions that seemed to riddle your body that week, your hair still tied half-up with a ribbon that matched your day dress. In a few moments you would have to get up but you breathed yourself into relaxation to make the most of your quiet day.
You were woken to a gentle touch to your shoulder and your eyes flew open with a surprised gasp, the barely-warm water sloshing around your body as you startled. George was sitting on the edge of the tub still in his work clothes, his expression a mix between surprise and love, and he caressed your cheek with his thumb.
“I was worried where you were when you didn’t meet me at the door.” he chuckled softly.
“Shit, what time is it?” you asked worriedly, your features expressing your unrest easily.
“Just after 5:00.” George answered.
“Oh my- I’m sorry- I was supposed to be ready to go-“ you started to get up but he set a gentle hand on your shoulder to keep you in the water a little longer.
“It’s okay, darling. There’s no rush. We still have a whole hour.”
George dipped down to kiss your lips and your stress lines melted into a tender smile at his touch and you leaned up from the tub to kiss him again gladly. When you sat back again, he just stared at you for a few long seconds, a calm smile on his face. The intensity of his blue eyed stare always had you needing to look away and you smiled shyly down to the bath water.
George broke your silence with a soft, “You look gorgeous.”
You leaned your head back against the wall again so you could look at him, admitting quietly, “I missed you today.”
“I missed you too.” George stroked your hair before he was getting up from the wide of the tub, “I bought you something on my way home.”
Your attention was peaked, watching him walk hurriedly out of the ensuite and out into your bedroom, “You did?”
He came back in with a garment bag and a beaming grin and he unzipped it to reveal a royal blue evening dress with a straight neckline, short dainty sleeves, and a matching bow around the waist. You bit back your smitten grin at the excitement of your selfless husband and you leaned your arms on the edge of the tub to admire the stunning new dress, careful to not touch it with your wet hands.
“Sweetheart,” you breathed adoringly, “It’s beautiful.”
“Couldn’t stop thinking of you in it…I just had to stop and pick it up for you. You’re gonna look beautiful tonight.” George gushed as he hung the hanger up on the shower curtain rod. He started to untie his tie from around his neck as he talked on, “And I even grabbed myself a matching tie from the store while I was there just so we can match tonight. I know you always like that even if you might not always admit it.”
You rested your cheek down against your folded arms on the tub edge and admired him shamelessly as he stepped back into the bedroom again only to return to the bathroom mirror with a royal blue tie that matched the colour of your new dress perfectly. He draped it around his neck and popped his collar so he could tie it as he spoke to you.
“Come on, darling, come get ready.”
You always loved going out with him and especially having any excuse to dress up but the whirling of your mind was distracting and you caught yourself suddenly swallowing back tears. You dropped your face into the crook of your arm and let out a shaky exhale to try and regain your composure.
“Hey,” George’s gentle voice got closer and soon he was crouching beside the tub, reaching out a loving hand to caress your damp shoulder, “what’s wrong, my love?”
You sniffled and raised your head up again to meet his concerned gaze and you shrugged, mouthing a silent and passive, “I dunno.”
“Mm mm.” George shook his head gently, “Don’t do that. Don’t push me away. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I want a baby.” you whispered.
“I know.” George let out a faint chuckle at your obvious confession but his expression stayed serious as he took in your obviously distressed state. His hand stroked over your head and into the damp ends of your hair that had grazed the water in your bath.
“I want one now.” you continued quietly.
“I know. That’s why we’re working so hard.” he nudged your cheek teasingly with his knuckle.
You barely offered him a smile, “I’m scared it won’t happen.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “Why’s that?”
You shrugged, “Because if it hasn’t happened yet then what if it never will?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” George tisked and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “It’s still early…it’s been barely a month-”
“But we weren’t even really being safe before that. How did it not already accidentally happen?”
“I dunno.” he chuckled, “But that’s okay. I am in no rush. We have our whole lives together and it’s only been a little while of trying and I’m not giving up yet. I’m not giving up on us or our babies, okay?”
You sniffled and nodded.
“So don’t worry, darling. Don’t stress yourself out over this because you’re just going to make yourself crazy with worry.”
“I want to give you a family.” you mumbled sadly.
“You are my family.” George promised and leaned in to kiss your temple. “You’re all I need to be happy.”
“I love you.” you whispered, turning your head slightly to urge his lips on yours in a sweet kiss.
“I love you.” he kissed you once more before he was standing up and offering out his hands to you, “Now let’s get you out of this bathtub and into that dress so you can be the most breathtaking woman at the party.”
The event hall was located near the centre of town and was decorated lavishly for the evening party that was to be hosted there. George parked on the street and even at the slight distance you were from the venue, the lights and music still made their way down the sidewalk and lured you in eagerly. With your hair curled and pinned to perfection and in your brand new gown purchased by the hands of your husband, you already felt like a million bucks, only eased more by the reassurance that he offered you only an hour earlier. He was truly all you needed and anything more was just a perfect treat.
Your hand rested daintily in the crook of his elbow as he led you both into the loud and boisterous hall and right away, other partygoers were greeting you over the music and noise. Butlers passed by with platters of horderves and George snagged you both a small serving each on the way to your table. Right up near the front, your reserved table was awaiting you, and a few of your friends were already there and in their seats, mingling and drinking.
At the sight of you, your friends had plenty to say about your matching dress and tie and the way you just looked so perfect together. Friendly cheek kisses were shared by the ladies and the men exchanged handshakes and everyone was arranging themselves in their seats that were labeled with golden calligraphy name tags. George pulled out your chair for you and helped you take your seat in your spot before he was leaning down with his hands on your shoulders to let you know he was going to the bar to order some drinks. You reached up one hand to pat over his in acknowledgement and he leaned down to kiss your cheek before disappearing through the crowd with a few of the husbands.
“Oh he is enamoured by you.” one of your friends gushed from across the table.
“And this dress is stunning!” another reached over to touch your sleeve.
“He picked it out.” you admitted - only slightly bragging, “Came home with it today and said he needed to buy it for me because he kept picturing me in it.”
The girls swooned over that, lighthearted jealousy filling the air.
“You two are too cute.” another one of the women said, “It’s a known fact that the Russells are all too perfect.”
“Yep. Makes me sick!” another joked.
The one on your right nudged your arm gently, leaning in to say quietly while still being heard over the band playing, “Did you hear that your husband might be getting a promotion tonight?”
Your eyes widened, “No. I didn’t hear that. Is it true?”
She nodded, “My husband heard at work. Apparently George has been doing an excellent job…he’s so dedicated, y’know? The mayor is so impressed.”
“It’s a surprise?” you questioned.
“Think so. But I don’t even know if it’s 100% true so don’t go saying anything anyway. I know you two have no secrets between you and all.”
You pretended to lock your lips with your fingers and throw away the imaginative key and you shared quiet giggles.
The men returned shortly after and George set your drink down on the table in front of you before he was unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket and then sitting down beside you with his own drink. His hand rested on the back of your chair while his eyes took in the party around you from the crowded tables of neighbours to the impressive height of the floral centerpieces on each, sipping his drink calmly. You set your hand on his thigh as you took to your own drink, naturally keeping him within arms reach at all times even if the attention was on the conversation at your table.
It wasn’t long before the performers were introduced to the crowd and the stage was filled with female dancers, their costumes not leaving much to the imagination other than streaks of glitter and sparkle covering them scandalously. The music guided them and the men cheered loudly as the women watched politely, you among them. But George wasn’t looking at the stage. Instead, his head was turned away from the show just so he could stare at you instead.
Cluelessly, you sipped your drink and watched the show, unknowing to the way his attention was focused all on you. A calm smile rested on his lips and his eyes took in every inch of your face as you sat at his side so effortlessly. When his hand dropped to your lap and he gave your knee a squeeze, you finally looked at him, eyes wide in surprise at seeing him already staring at you.
George leaned in towards you and you met him halfway so he could whisper against your ear behind the loud show music playing through the spacious room, “Wanna come get some air with me?”
You smiled innocently at him and set your drink back on the table as your silent agreement.
He got up first from his chair and took your hand to guide you after him, moving smoothly away from your table without wanting to interrupt the show. Your friends only shared knowing glances among themselves at the sight of the two of you sneaking off. You didn’t necessarily know you were that predictable to outsiders.
The music from the ballroom muffled as you emerged into the hallway and let the double doors close behind you, having a moment alone in peace of just the two of you. George spun you under his arm and then pulled you right up against his body, sliding his arm around your waist lovingly as his lips found yours with ease. You raised your hands up to the side of his neck to hold him there, gladly letting him kiss you deeply within the rush of escaping the crowded party.
George pulled away from your lips only to whisper honestly to you, “You really are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”
You caressed his smooth jaw with your thumbs, “All thanks to this dress you picked out.”
“Your beauty requires no thanks to me.” he corrected smoothly, taking your hands from his face to hold in his own and he started to walk backwards to pull you after him towards the washrooms.
You walked after him giddily, only pulling your hands from his grasp and falling against his chest with your arms around his shoulders as he backed into the empty women’s washroom. In the formal setting of the ballroom, the washroom was designed just as lavishly and the mirror framed lounge with a central circular sofa welcomed you warmly. Your lips found his again and he blindly locked the door behind you before spinning you both around and leading you farther into the elegant room.
You could never get enough of his lips and even as he licked his way into your mouth, you were still pulling at the back of his neck to feel him closer, moaning softly into his kiss. George’s hands slid down your body and over your hips and ass and his dress shoes scuffed over the marble floor as he guided you towards the small make-up counter across the room. Often used for ladies to excuse themselves from the party to freshen up their lipstick or blush at the built-in vanity, it was now taken as a place for George to press you up against in the most erotic way, sending your heart in your throat and between your legs in eager anticipation. Only the simplest of touches from your husband sent you spiralling.
“Oh my God.” you breathed into his mouth as your kiss broke for him to focus on shuffling up your voluminous skirt.
Both already breathing heavily, your mouths were open in lust as lips brushed tauntingly and you shared air together. Your hands held onto his biceps over the expensive material of his tuxedo jacket and his warm hands snapped the waistband of your lacey panties against your waist. You giggled and he lowered to a crouch in front of you, holding up your skirt in one hand as his other started to pull down your underwear and his lips trailed after them in slow open-mouthed kisses across your skin. His gelled hair wasn’t easy to get your hand in without ruining it completely so you settled for resting your hands on the cold vanity countertop that you were resting back against the edge of.
George stood back up and in one smooth motion, his lips were capturing yours in a filthy kiss. You let one arm toss around his shoulders as you kissed him back hungrily, pulling hearty moans from his throat at the way you melted into each other and he shoved your underwear in his pants pocket. His hand took its place under your skirt and pressed right down against your clit, making your next breath shutter.
“Fuck-”
George swallowed up your words with his mouth, tasting the way you swore at his touch, locking his pillowy lips with yours perfectly. He stroked your clit lazily with his fingertips and soon had you trying to grind against his hand as he stood between your legs and was nearly leaning into you over the vanity.
You tilted your head back to break your kiss with a exhale, “George-”
Breathing in time with each other into each other’s mouths, you held him close around his shoulders as he made you wet with ease; like he knew your body like the back of his hand. His lustful eyes were on yours, unwavering, glimmering in the warm light of the circular mirrored room you found yourselves in, companion only to the muffled music from the party across the hall.
His fingers moved a little faster against your clit and his attention was focused all on your face as he watched the way your expression changed for him, your nose scrunching up in pleasure and your eyebrows furrowing slightly with the moan that reverberated in your chest. He stopped suddenly, forcing a gasp from you, and his fingers slowed right down to rub over your pussy instead, smearing around the sweet wetness that pooled out of you by his very own touch.
“Fuck, you get wet for me so easy, my good girl.” he praised into your mouth, his body pressed right up against yours.
“I’m yours.” you promised him.
“Uh huh?” he swirled his fingers around your clit again, taunting you, “Do you want me to put a baby in you, darling?”
“Fuck, yes please.” you rushed out.
“Want me to make you a mommy? Say it.”
“Please put a baby in me, George.” you pleaded, tugging at his tie to try and pull his lips on yours again, your legs spreading wider to urge his touch where you craved him. “Let me make you a daddy.”
“God damn, you’re so perfect.” George groaned, rubbing messily at your clit again.
A pleasurable shriek fell from your throat and your head tossed back blissfully, welcoming his lips to your neck in feverish kisses that he moved right up under your ear to make you shiver. His fingers created the perfect friction against your aching clit and you ground against his touch, desperate for more. You always wanted more.
“Baby, please.” you breathed to the ceiling, “Please fuck me. Please cum inside me. I need you so fucking bad.”
George pulled his hand out from under your skirt so he could shove off his black jacket and he tossed it behind him to hopefully land on the couch in the middle of the room. Neither of you cared enough to watch where it went because then he was unbuckling his belt and you were shuffling up your skirt some more and draping your hair over one shoulder as the heat was already rushing over your body. You didn’t separate for long and even still he stood so close to you at the counter that you could breathe into each other’s mouths, eyes locked, hearts beating as one.
He grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up onto the edge of the counter as your hands pulled his lips back on yours for more kisses. George’s grip on your hips pulled you closer to him and the feeling of his fingers pressing into your hips had your body arching into him hungrily. You reached down to wrap your gentle hand around his dick and gave it a few impatient strokes, feeling how it only stiffened up more at your touch. It felt like you were in a rush, driven by lust and desire, and George nudged your legs open wider so he could step right up to the vanity, at the perfect height to let the head of his cock nudge against your sensitive clit.
“Don’t tease me, you asshole.” you giggled breathily, earning a soft laugh from your husband as he kissed the corner of your mouth. You held onto his biceps as he carefully fed his thick cock into your leaking cunt, sheathing so snugly inside you that both of your mouths fell open in unison, eyes locking.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” George whispered against your lips, sliding a hand around the small of your back to urge you a little closer to the edge so he could get as deep as possible.
“Oh my God.” you exhaled shakily, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close and your arms slung around his shoulders to pull his lips on yours. “Oh my God.”
You shared deep sloppy kisses as he started to thrust into you slowly and your moan against his lips had his eyebrows furrowing in filthy bliss. He broke your kiss for a moment to look at your face before dropping his gaze down between you, lifting up the hem of his dress shirt out of the way even if your skirt was still covering most of it. You tilted his head back up to look at you desperately, wanting to find the love in his eyes, and he thrusted into you a little faster as your gaze sent him spinning.
You breathed in time together, wrapped up together on the vanity counter, and as George’s feet stayed planted securely shoulder width apart in his dress shoes against the polished marble floor, he had the ability to take you as he wanted you right then and there. His lips pressed to your jaw in fleeting kisses as he held your body close and fucked you faster, desperate to feel more of you.
Your head fell back with a moan and he helped himself to your neck, holding you in place on the edge of the counter. As the seconds passed, he only got more desperate, thrusting into you faster, harder, holding your body against his in that gorgeous blue dress he bought for you.
“George-“ you cried out softly, clinging onto him, spreading your legs wider for him so he could get deeper. Your manicured fingernails grasped the back of his dress shirt around his waist, crumpling the once perfectly ironed material in your fist as your heels dropped from your feet one and then the other, landing on the marble floor with a sharp thud.
“Good girl.” George praised against your cheek, his large hands caressing your thighs and your back as he held you close to his body.
Your eyes were focused over his shoulder to the wall opposite you, hung up on the reflections that the mirror-framed room offered you of all angles. It was possessive to watch like that, how your arms and legs were wrapped around him completely, fingers of one hand drifting into the back of his brown hair as his warm breath was panted against your neck in time with his quick thrusts. It made you salivate with desire for the man you loved more than life itself.
“Oh my God-“ you moaned out for him, dizzy on the sound of his skin clapping filthily with yours as the luxurious bathroom muted the distant sounds of the loud party music through the ballroom. Your hand tightened in his hair as he fucked the whimpers out of you, igniting warmth over your skin. “Just like that, baby, please-“
“Wanna cum for me?” George asked lowly against your cheek.
“Yes, please.” you huffed out shakily. “Please make me cum.”
“Yeah?” George grabbed your thighs to spread you a little wider, making you hold your legs open by linking them over his forearms as his hands took your hips to hold you in place.
Your pleading hands pulled his lips on yours by the back of his head, sharing filthy tongue led kisses between your pants and moans together as he drew you both closer. Both of you were completely ignorant to the muffled speech going on back in the ballroom, too hung up on each other. Tossing your head back with an overwhelmed moan to the ceiling, your hands dropped behind you to the countertop and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.
The skirt of your dress bunched around your middle and his hands were buried underneath it to hold you by the waist at the edge of the vanity, fucking you deliciously until that warmth was tightening in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows furrowed as you stared at him lustfully, you basked in the pleasure he brought to you so easily, giving him the sweetest moans that helped him closer to the conclusion you needed from him.
“Cum inside me.” you whispered to him longingly.
George stared back at you strongly, thrusting into you steadily as he taunted you with words that sent you whirling, “Want me to put a baby in you, darling? Cum so fucking deep inside you until you’re completely knocked up?”
“Fuck me.” you groaned through your teeth, your voice wavering, “Please, George. Please knock me up. Please give me your babies. Please, please, please-“
“Uh huh-“ he spoke over your soft begging, holding you by your waist as close as he could so he could hit as deep as possible, making your toes curl in midair.
You tugged the skirt of your dress up and got your fingers on your swollen clit to rub quickly at that spot, desperate for those incredible waves of pleasure that came to you only alongside your darling husband. Your head fell back with a gasping groan, your pussy squeezing down around him snugly as your orgasm approached quickly and you mouthed his name to the mirrored room in a whisper.
So many reflections to watch your sneaky rendezvous but George was only staring at the real you right in front of him, watching how you succumbed to the pleasure he brought you, “Let go for me, darling. Take the fucking cum out of me. Take it.”
Your fingers rubbed quickly at your clit, pulling the air from your lungs as your body gave itself to him completely, pushed over the edge by the way he thrusted into you so perfectly. You tensed up around him and he groaned lowly between you as the pulsing flutters of your pussy radiated bursts of pleasurable sensations up his spine. You came for him with a cry of his name, your eyes staring back at his handsome face as your expression wavered with overwhelm.
George only fucked you faster, desperately chasing that sweet conclusion that would bring you both closer together. You slung your arms around his shoulders as you shuttered against his body with the intense pleasure that radiated over every inch of you. He shifted to get your legs back around your waist and he held you as close as possible as he thrusted into you sloppily.
“Hold onto me.” he whispered strongly, urging your hands to cling onto the back of his shirt to keep you together as close as possible. Your ankles linked together behind his waist and your heels pressed into the flesh of his bum to keep him nice and deep as his breathing grew shallower.
He was coming seconds later, nearly slumping into you as your arms held each other close and he forced himself as deep as he could get inside you. His moans were beautiful and you breathed him into your senses greedily as he was all yours. You took every drop he gave you, grinding against his body to pull more out of him with how badly you wanted it, whispering little breathy yeses against his cheek in time with his final few precise thrusts.
“Oh my God.” you breathed.
“Mm.” George dusted a fleeting kiss to your neck as he stood up straight again.
You held onto his biceps as he pushed up the hem of your dress to allow you both to watch him pull out slowly. His dick was slick in the mixture of both of your love and he was softening slowly in the warm air of the ballroom bathroom. He grabbed your thighs to spread your legs nice and wide and you leaned back on your hands with a sultry little smile as he stared down at your pussy and licked his lips at the sight of the thick white cream dripping back out.
“Keep it in there.” he ordered quietly. “Keep your legs up for a bit.”
“Mhm.” you rested back against the vanity mirror and kept your legs up, clenching your muscles tightly to keep everything in for as long as he wanted you to.
George leaned in to kiss your lips a few times, bringing a loving smile to your face at his obvious adoration that was even more apparent in the way he looked at you when you separated.
“I love you.” he whispered.
“I love you so much.” you replied quietly.
He drifted away from you to tuck himself back into his slacks and he buckled his pants up again and you watched him redress peacefully, always one to linger on the domesticity of it all. George retrieved his jacket from where he had tossed it onto the centre sofa and he shrugged it back on and buttoned the two buttons once more.
Staring at him from your spot atop the vanity, you felt your heart swell with undeniable love for him, tears brimming in your eyes with the overwhelming concept that he was yours for life and that you were aiming to make a family together. He was all you wanted, even if you wanted more of him.
Dedicated to the growth of your family, you let your legs ache as you kept them raised and spread, willing to do anything for the cause. George stopped by one of the mirrored walls of the circular room and let that same tune play on his lips as he tended to his hair and made sure it was gelled back down and away from his face, no remnants of your fingers in it. He then returned to you and situated himself between your legs, sliding his hands up your skirt that hid you modestly and he caressed your warm skin.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
“Little dizzy.” you admitted, your head resting back against the mirror, “But I’m so good.”
“Dizzy?”
“Mhm. You made me cum really hard.” you giggled.
George smiled, his momentary concern melting into a cheeky grin, and he leaned in to kiss your lips. You shared whispered ‘I love you’s before he was helping you to lower your legs and guide you off the counter. On wobbly legs, you held onto his forearms and took a second to steady yourself until you were able to stand straight on your own. George pressed a kiss to your temple and then pulled your underwear from his pocket for you to put back on. You held onto him as you carefully pulled them up your legs under your dress and then slid on each of your heels one at a time.
“Okay?” he asked.
You smiled at him and nodded, blinking away the slight dizziness that lingered. You had a party to return to after all.
When you returned to the ballroom hand in hand, the mayor was on the stage with the microphone in hand, addressing the crowd. It was otherwise quiet as if they were missing something but almost the exact moment you walked through the doors, the spotlight was on you. You raised a hand up to shield your eyes from the bright white light and George guided you slowly back towards your table as the mayor called you out by name.
“There they are! The Russells have made their return!”
Blushing furiously with the entire town’s attention on you, you clung tighter onto George’s hand and followed close beside him to your table.
On the stage, the mayor wasn’t done, “I have to admit that I am quite proud of these two’s dedication to helping our community to grow into the next generation. I’m sure it won’t be long until we can welcome another child into our perfect little paradise, isn’t that right?”
The crowd cheered loudly with applause and you nearly felt faint, the spotlight following you through the crowd. George’s hand rested on the small of your back as he helped you onto your chair again.
The mayor continued, speaking into the microphone as his other hand gestured out towards the two of you, “In your absence, George, you missed my most important announcement of the night.”
George offered him a tight smile as he sat back down beside you with a polite, “Awfully sorry about that, Frank.”
“No, no.” the mayor assured him, “I understand that you take your job as man of the house just as seriously as you take your job with us here.”
Your dizziness was only growing into a sweat at your brow and you dabbed your napkin from your place setting gently at your temples to try and tame your rising temperature. Maybe it was the warm spotlight, you assumed, or the attention of the entire neighbourhood being focused on you that made you nervous but you really weren’t feeling too well.
George was looking up to the nearby stage as the mayor addressed him directly, meaning his back was almost completely towards you. You set a clammy hand on his shoulder.
The mayor continued, “Which is exactly why I wanted to bring up your dedication to your service to us and your ability to live with the morals and values of our dear community at the forefront of your mind.”
You leaned towards George’s shoulder, whispering shakily to him, “Baby, I don’t feel too well.”
He glanced at you briefly before the mayor drew his attention with a call of his name.
“George Russell,”
Your forehead slumped against his shoulder blade, “I wanna go home.”
George shifted to let you lean on his shoulder and your arm naturally wrapped pleadingly around his, warmed by the blinding light of the spotlight.
The mayor was unphased by your obvious distress as he continued addressing your husband directly, “it is with great pride that I would like to offer you a position with some of us in headquarters. It will come with more responsibility but I’m sure the pay increase will be beneficial when it comes to any little additions to your family.”
George’s attention was torn between this surprise news of an offered promotion and the way that you were nearly limp against his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you protectively but his gaze was still politely focused on the stage.
“I really want to go home.” you repeated shakily to him.
Your friends were oblivious, too excited about the proper announcement that was now given to the man it was directed towards under the blinding lights of the decorated ballroom. You felt faint.
“What do you say, George?” the mayor asked loudly, his voice booming across the spacious ballroom. “Will you live up to the kind of man we know you can be?”
“George.” you whispered pleadingly, too out of it to even really know what was going on. “Please, can we go?”
George glanced at you briefly before looking back up to the stage and the expectant faces of his co-workers and mayor. He nodded to him quickly, “Yes, thank you. I would love to accept the offer.”
The crowd broke into applause and with the chaos that it brought, George turned to you quickly and grabbed your purse from the table before standing up.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
He helped you out of your chair as the spotlight drifted elsewhere across the bustling party and your friends gave you odd stares at your sudden change and out-of-character distress. George, riddled with worry, wrapped his arm around your waist protectively and led you towards the exit doors of the ballroom, the cheers of the crowd echoing in your ears and you clamped your hands over them to block out the noise.
Once out in the crisp evening air, you were stumbling across the pavement and George was pulling you to a stop to look at him. Hands trembling, you pushed your hair out of your face and kept your gaze downcast in near shame.
“What’s wrong, darling?” George asked, rubbing your bare arms with his warm hands.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your night.” you said shakily.
“You didn’t ruin anything.” George brushed your apology off easily, “What’s wrong?”
“I dunno…it just…was stuffy in there and overwhelming…I don’t feel too good.” you sniffled and he pulled you in for a gentle hug. With your arms tucked around your middle shyly, he held you close and pressed a kiss to your temple. You didn’t want to complain but you were still not feeling much better and you stood back from him again, holding a trembling hand to your mouth, “I feel so gross, George, can we please go home?”
“Yes, my love, of course.” George took your arm and gently guided you towards the car.
He opened the door for you and helped you in and even buckled your seatbelt for you before he shut the door and rushed around to the other side to get behind the wheel. You shut your eyes and leaned back in your seat, the world still slightly spinning around you.
George turned the key and pulled away from the curb, “Did it come on this fast?”
You nodded, working up the courage to speak your response, “Felt really tired today and then dizzy while we were in the bathroom but…”
When your body made you lurch and you pressed your hand to your mouth, George’s wide eyes looked over at you.
“Tell me to pull over if you need me to.” he instructed gently.
You nodded in acknowledgement.
“I’m sorry.” you mumbled.
He reached over to set a comforting hand on your thigh, “Please don’t be sorry.”
The street lamps of your perfect little community whizzed past your window as George hurried towards home, his gaze constantly flicking over to you from the street ahead just to make sure you were good. It was odd the way you so quickly felt sick and it honestly made him quite nervous, wondering what had happened to trigger such obvious illness within you in such a short period of time.
It didn’t take long to get home since your neighbourhood wasn’t very large and George had barely put the car in park before you were tossing off your seatbelt and climbing out of your seat in a rush. George didn’t even turn off the car before he was hurrying after you towards the porch where you caught yourself on the white painted pillar and threw up in the garden. He was right behind you as you sputtered distastefully, pulling your hair away from your face for you as the nausea came over you again and you threw up for a second time right into your rosebush.
“Oh my-“ you whimpered, eyes brimming with tears as you wiped your mouth with the back of your trembling hand.
George hushed you comfortingly as you let out a little sob and he turned you to face him so he could easily pull you into a warm hug. You ducked your face in his neck, embarrassed, and your shaking hands grasped onto the back of his suit jacket to hold onto him comfortingly.
“Let’s get you inside and into bed, okay?” he whispered to you, stroking your hair with a gentle hand that rubbed down your back.
You nodded and sniffled and stepped away from him so he could hurry and turn the car off, gather your purse, and then return to your side to help you inside. Your spotless house greeted you warmly when George flicked on the lights but once glimpse at the kitchen had you panicked again.
“We didn’t even get to eat. You must be starving-“
“I’m okay.” George assured you quickly, steering you towards the hallway so he could take you to bed, “I can find something for us. Are you hungry at all?”
“Maybe a little.” you answered softly.
“Okay,” George pulled back the perfectly tucked bedsheets on your side of the bed and sat you down carefully, “I’ll get you into bed and maybe warm up some soup.”
“Okay.” you breathed.
He reached around you to unzip your dress and you lifted your arms up so he could pull it over your head.
“I wanted us to have a nice night.” you mumbled sadly.
“Hey,” George took your chin in his hand gently to get you to look at him, “I kinda enjoyed myself when we were there, did you not?”
A little smile pricked at the corner of your mouth at his implication and you nodded slightly in agreement, “Yeah. I did.”
He smiled proudly back at you, your dress draped over his arm, and he reached behind you again to unclip your bra. He undressed you carefully and then helped you to shuffle into one of his sweatshirts.
“I ruined your promotion.” you sighed sadly.
“You didn’t ruin anything.” George assured you, gently untying the ribbon from your hair, as his voice lowered to a whisper, “It’s just a job…it’s barely a job. You know that.”
“Yeah.” you said, “Although it’s nice that you’re being recognized. Makes this all a little easier.”
George didn’t answer you for a second, his gentle hands stroking through your hair to smooth it down over your shoulders. When you looked up at him at his lack of response, he appeared deep in thought.
“What is it?” you frowned.
“Do you think you should take a pregnancy test, darling?” he asked softly.
You almost scoffed, “What for?”
“Because you’ve been really tired and dizzy and you just threw up in our garden?”
You bit lightly at your bottom lip and dropped your gaze to your lap. George’s fingers still danced through your hair as he stood in front of you, letting you decide on your answer for yourself.
“I don’t think I could deal with it being negative.” you whispered to the carpet. “I can’t deal with that anymore and especially not here. I’ll fucking lose it.”
George’s thumbs caressed your cheeks and he crouched down in front of you so you could look at him, taking your hands in his, “I know you want this more than anything but that’s the reason why we came here, remember? To have what we always wanted? You keep psyching yourself up about this like we’re still at home that you’re not even letting yourself enjoy it and think of the positives of what could be. We have this whole opportunity for us and I don’t want anything to hold us back from living this life that has been built for us.”
You nodded.
George brought your joined hands to his mouth and he kissed your knuckles without taking his eyes off your downcast gaze and he whispered against your soft skin, “Please take a test?”
You sniffled and lifted your head back to stare at the ceiling.
“Please?” George said softly, pausing to kiss your hand again, “I’ll be right here.”
Your bottom lip trembled and you shyly met his gaze, feeling warm butterflies in your stomach by the way the man you loved stared at you. It was obvious that he loved you more than life itself and you felt the exact same right back. With a moment's thought, you nodded and breathed out a barely audible, “Okay.”
George honestly smiled and he stood up again, pausing just long enough to kiss your head before he was hurrying into the ensuite and pulled open the bottom cabinet, “Okay!”
You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes as you tried to calm yourself down since your anxiety started to bubble up more in your chest. Still in a full face of makeup, smudging was the least of your concerns at that moment and you focused on deep breathing and keeping your tears at bay.
George returned to his spot in front of you and he held out the pregnancy test to you. You could see how excited and impatient he was - even if he tried to tone it down for your sake - and the thought of having to tell him it was yet another negative made your throat feel like razor blades. Every time it completely broke your heart. He was so strong. This was your last resort. You had given up everything for this one last chance.
You took the unopened test from him and felt the weight of it in your hands for a moment, staring down at the blank screen.
“Where do you want me?” he asked thoughtfully.
“Can you come in with me?” your voice was shaking.
“Sure, sweetheart.” George stepped to the side and let you get up from the side of the bed.
You were less dizzy and nauseous but still terribly tired and he followed you closely into the bathroom just to make sure you were steady…and for your emotional support. He sat up on the bathroom counter as you shuffled your panties down and helped yourself to the toilet, holding the test between your legs while your singular evening party drink went right through you.
You couldn’t remember what number test this was that you had taken and although it was the first since moving into this perfect little paradise of a community, the memory of your past experiences never faded. Your mind whirled with thoughts of the worst…if the alcohol in your recent drink would mess up the results, if you just had a sickness and that’s why you felt so strange all day, if you were too far lost for even a utopian community to save you and your dream.
The test was re-capped and George took it from you to rinse off while you cleaned yourself up and flushed. You wanted to be as far away from it as possible and you returned to the bedroom to sit on the side of the bed while George checked the time on his watch, test resting on the counter patiently.
“Three minutes.” George said, following after you back into the bedroom. “Do you need anything? Some water maybe?”
“No thank you.” you mumbled.
He hesitated in front of you.
“I’m going to get you some water.”
“George-”
He was already half out the bedroom door, “Be right back!”
He couldn’t sit still. You couldn’t move.
From the distant kitchen, you could hear him whistling that same tune that had been stuck in your head for ages but you didn’t have the energy to think much of it. Your leg bounced restlessly off the side of the bed, unknowing of the time, and you awaited your husband's return. He was so selfless. He was so good.
Soon, he was returning quickly and he passed you a glass of water; always one to stay busy. You sipped a bit of it to humour him and despite the fact that your mouth was terribly dry, you did not want to drink. You almost felt sick again. Not wanting to go through the discomfort of throwing up again, you clenched your lips shut and stared at the carpet, trying to keep yourself calm.
George checked his watch.
You held out your glass to him as if by instinct and started to get up.
“You should drink more, love-”
“I’m gonna be sick again.” you hurried out as you pushed past him into the ensuite.
Dropping to your knees at the toilet, you threw up loudly, struggling to hold back your tears. George set your glass on the counter and crouched behind you to comfort you by pulling your hair from your face as your body had you lurching to throw up again. He rubbed your back and your shoulders and hummed that silly little tune quietly to try and help calm you down.
“I’m sorry.” you mumbled weakly.
“Stop apologizing.” he tisked, following you onto the ground as you slumped from your knees onto your bum. You leaned back against his chest and he flushed the toilet for you before wrapping you up in his arms lovingly, pressing tender kisses to your head. “Through sickness and health, remember?”
You let a small smile come to your lips at the faint memory of the quaint English church in the countryside, the gentle organ playing, and George standing before you at the altar with his hands holding yours. It felt like so long ago as if the essence of time was skewed in your mind. In a way, it really was. Life was so different now but you both were sure this would be better…be worth the end of what once was to find your new beginning together.
“I love you.” you whispered.
“I love you.” he promised into your hair. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” you sighed.
He gave your hands a squeeze, “Think you can stand and we can take a look at this test of ours?”
You bit nervously at your bottom lip, “You look at it.”
“You don’t want to look at it with me?”
You shook your head.
“You sure?”
You nodded.
“Can I help you off the floor first at least?”
You permitted him to stand up and he slowly helped you up onto wobbly legs and you returned to the bedroom to sit on the side of the bed. Picking anxiously at your fingernails, you watched as he returned to the bathroom counter directly in your line of vision. He took one last glance at you before he was picking up the pregnancy test from the counter and flipping it over to read it, not giving himself a moment to second guess himself.
You struggled to read his expression as he read the result; his eyebrows furrowed and lips in a soft pout. You were waiting for the news you had grown all too used to. He wasn’t saying anything and you certainly didn’t want to be the first one to speak.
George little sniffle had your heart racing with anxiety, making you near positive that it was yet another negative. He looked over at you from the ensuite, bathed in the surrounding artificial light in his tuxedo with his gelled hair falling out of place, and his soft pout was unmissable. A single tear slipped down his cheek.
You sat frozen in place, aching for him to just rip off the bandaid, “What?”
“You’re pregnant.” he breathed, his voice breaking.
It felt as though the air was knocked from your lungs. You blinked at him, “What?”
George broke into a grin and he nodded, reaching up to wipe his eyes with the heel of his palms before taking another look at the test. He let out a wet chuckle at the result that stared back at him, “Holy shit.”
“Bring it here.” you ordered, almost panicking in disbelief.
George joined you on the side of the bed and you grabbed the test from him, almost glaring down at it in your hand. The screen revealed two pink lines, one just a little more faded than the other but still clearly visible to the naked eye.
“See it?” George pointed to it as if you couldn’t see it yourself. “It’s so clear.”
Your mouth opened as if to say something but no words came out. No words felt adequate at that moment. Opening and closing your mouth like a clueless fish, you felt dizzy with emotional overwhelm.
“You’re pregnant, baby.” George rehashed it to you sweetly with a smile as he rubbed his hand over your back, “You have a little us growing inside you right now.”
You couldn’t tear your wide eyes away from the positive test in your hand, stumbling over your next breath as you struggled to hold back the sudden wave of tears that threatened to overtake you. The air felt lighter and you gasped for relief, letting it out with a sob to your bedroom walls.
“Oh God.” you cried tears of joy, your trembling hands clutching the positive test in your two handed grip and you pulled it to your chest.
George embraced you right away, pulling you close with happy tears of his own. You turned towards him lovingly and rested your head on his shoulder with your face tucked in his neck, letting him hold you just like that, basking in the relief that was felt by the both of you. Your tears dripped onto the fabric of his tuxedo jacket even as you held open your palms again to get another look at those two pink lines. George kissed your temple proudly.
“I love you.” he whispered shakily.
“I love you.” you sniffled and finally turned to look him in the eye.
Through your tears, you shared quivering grins and he reached a hand up to caress your cheek and then pulled you in for a wet chasté kiss. Both of you were smiling into your kisses but you couldn’t get enough and the love that swelled in your heart was almost overpowering, forcing you to grab onto his tie and really hold his lips on yours. Your tear streaked cheeks pressed together moistly and your kisses tasted faintly of those salty tears you shared but the warm happiness that burned within the two of you was enough to overtake even the darkest of days.
You broke your kiss only to stare down at the confirmation you held in your hands, your palms delicately supporting the proof of your destiny. Sniffling as your tears slowed, you leaned against your husband who never once left your side, letting his fingers brush your hair over your shoulder so he could lean in beside you cheek to cheek.
“It was all worth it.” he said softly, rubbing his hand over your back, “I knew this would be good for us.”
You nodded.
“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, noting your silence.
You looked back at him with a calm smile and lifted a hand up to slide around the back of his neck and rest his forehead against yours, “So happy. And finally so at peace.”
“Good.” George whispered. “You deserve nothing less.”
“We’re finally gonna have our family, George.” you smiled sweetly, “You and me. What we’ve been waiting so long for.”
He swallowed you up in his arms, hugging you so tightly and so lovingly that you swore you never felt the heat of his love pass onto you as strongly before as it did in that moment. You felt as light as air and you melted into him happily, a peaceful smile on your face as you held onto him and let a content tune hum pleasantly from your lips.
The egg sizzled as it hit the bottom of the hot skillet, the kitchen filled with warm morning sunlight and the smell of cooking breakfast and brewing coffee that lured George from down the hall to join you. In only his work slacks and socks with his tie draped around his bare neck, he made you his priority over getting dressed, enveloping you in the scent of his cologne as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and dipped his shaved face into your neck.
His hands glided softly under the hem of his sweatshirt you wore to feel the smooth skin of your still generally flat stomach, “Good morning, mommy.”
You grinned to the stovetop at the reminder of the long-awaited news you had found out the night before and you leaned your head back against his shoulder to guide his lips to yours for a soft kiss. With his thumbs rubbing lovingly over your warm skin, you melted happily into him, “Good morning, daddy.”
Purely innocent and bursting with love for your family of two that would soon be made three, you shared a few more lingering kisses that made your heart swell.
“You sure you feel up to making breakfast?” George asked softly with one more caress to your stomach and a kiss to your neck.
“Yeah.” you assured him easily. “I like making you breakfast.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I’m feeling so much better.”
George kissed your temple and then slid away from you to retrieve his shirt from the ironing board where it was left in the living room as it was every morning.
“Newspaper is already on the table.” you told him as he buttoned up his shirt on his way back over to you. “Your promotion made the front page.”
Living in such a small tight-knit community, there wasn’t much to report upon which only made George’s promotion big news. Front page worthy. He stopped at his usual spot at the kitchen island and glanced down at the newspaper as he tied his tie around his neck under the collar of his freshly ironed white shirt. Pausing to take a bite of toast from the plate that you had set beside the newspaper, he chewed as he straightened out his tie, still skimming the article.
“I don’t know what’s the big deal.” he spoke through his mouthful, “Not like it’s a real promotion.”
“Well, not everyone knows that.” you answered calmly, still tending to the bacon and eggs on the stove.
“I guess.” George flipped to the next page before reaching for his mug for a sip of the steaming coffee that you had poured him.
“We’re lucky to even be here under these circumstances. The other wives don’t know a thing.”
George glanced up at you, knowing your conversation was treading towards dangerous territory surrounding the topic that was to be completely silenced under your discretion. You weren’t wrong, however, and thus it allowed you to be the one couple in the community that could freely speak to it - so long as you were completely alone and out of earshot of anyone else.
“Does it scare you?” George asked.
You plated the bacon and eggs and merely shrugged, “Sometimes. I don’t know their stories or why they’re here…what exactly led them to be a part of this without their knowledge. I can only hope that the husbands did it for the right reasons.”
Your two plates clinked gently against the island countertop as you set them between you.
“Besides,” you continued, “all I need to worry about is you and me. And our baby.”
George broke into a grin and he leaned in to kiss you sweetly.
“I know that we’re here for the right reasons.” you rubbed your hand up his chest and around the back of his neck, staring adoringly into his soft blue eyes.
“And that’s all that matters,” he agreed. “You and me.”
“You and me.” you nodded, pulling his lips on yours for another quick kiss. “And baby.”
“And baby.” he whispered happily. “Still so crazy…going to have to get used to that.”
“I know.” you fed him a piece of bacon, “It’s only been months and months of trying and waiting.”
“Are you going to start telling people today?”
“Should I?”
“If you want to.”
You took a bite of bacon for yourself, staring back at him with a sweet smile you couldn’t hold back, “Okay. Maybe I will.”
Breakfast was eaten in close proximity, taking second rank of importance behind lovable kisses and whispers of excitement and adoration for each other and your growing family. George took one more piece of bacon for the road before he was grabbing his lunch tin and you were following him to the front door to say your goodbyes.
“I really don’t want you to go.” you whispered, standing in the warm morning light of the foyer with your arms around his waist as he shrugged on his jacket.
“I know, darling.” George smiled sadly. “But now more than ever it’s imperative that I go every day.”
“I know.” you sighed. “I love you for that.”
George held your face in his hands and pulled your lips to his for a brief kiss before telling you honestly, “I hate leaving.”
“I know.”
You shared another kiss as he insisted, “It’s the worst.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s scary sometimes.”
“I know.” you leaned into him to capture his lips with yours in a lingering chasté kiss.
He sighed into it through his nose, gently sliding his hands from your face down your shoulders and arms, and as he broke your kiss, he guided your hands out from around his waist. You laced your fingers together lazily between you and kissed him once more.
“We’ll be waiting.” you promised.
George’s melancholy expression pricked into a smile and he took one hand from yours to dust over the front of the sweatshirt you wore and then dip under the hem, caressing your warm skin lovingly.
“Can’t wait until you start showing.”
“Me neither.” you gushed, holding up your sweater for him as you both stared down at what was to become your baby, fingers of your other hands still linked together.
George sunk down onto his knees and he gently slid his hands around your waist to press warmly against your back to pull you close. He dusted a sweet kiss to your stomach, right under your belly button, caressing your skin with his gentle loving hands, and you would have absolutely swooned.
“Bye bye, my little one. Be good to mummy today.”
As he stood up, he gave you a smooth kiss next that you were both smiling into.
“I love you.” you grinned adoringly.
“I love you.” he promised, his eyes skimming across your make-up free face as if you were the most beautiful thing he had seen in his life, “See you tonight.”
“See you.” you breathed, letting him slip away from you and out the front door.
You stood on the porch and waved him goodbye as he pulled the car out of the driveway and made his daily drive down your street among the line of fellow men as they journeyed to work together in a single file line.
George whistled happily in his car as the morning breeze took him to the outskirts of the neighbourhood and towards the vast desert landscape that framed your little oasis. With one arm resting on the open window beside him, he coasted in the steady lineup of cars that navigated towards the highly confidential headquarters where all the local men were to report for work at precisely 9am every morning. He hated leaving you but only more so now that you had both found out that you were finally expecting. On the other hand, it only proved to himself that his responsibility to attend his daily expectations was of the utmost importance.
As the glass structure atop the desert mountains grew closer on his approach, his car radio crackled to life with the expected daily recording.
“All male citizens on route to headquarters. Schedule is one time.”
George absolutely dreaded the idea of leaving you but he had a duty to withhold that allowed you to live your life together in your ideal oasis that was already starting to give you everything you ever wanted. So he took the drive without complaint as the road turned into the steep mountainous climb towards the building overseeing the guarded little castaway town.
The radio spoke again with the voice of the mayor, “Security risk is low. All units expected to pass without fault. Arriving at the gate in 3…2…1-”
George’s chest gasped for air as his vision burst from light into the darkness that surrounded him, staring up into the dizzying patterns of light that were projected onto the ceiling above. He reached towards his face and carefully removed the metal clamps from his eye sockets and blinked feverishly a few times as the moisture re-settled over his irises. The wavering sound of white noise that filled the darkened room was almost invisible to him now and as he sat himself up in the bed and stretched his arms over his head and twisted his spine until it cracked in relief, he was unbothered by it.
On his left, laying flat beside him, you laid peacefully, staring at the ceiling. The same clamps that he had been wearing also kept your eyes open, staring blankly up to the dark ceiling and the projection of light patterns that kept you stagnant. George shifted to face you on the bed and leaned down to kiss your pale cheek and caress your arm with the back of his finger.
“I’m here, love.” he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse, “I’m still right here with you.”
Leaving you in place, he slowly got up from the bed and let his bare feet touch the cold wood floor beneath him as he opened the blackout curtains that framed the bed. The room was still pitch black outside of the canopy bed thanks to the extra safety barrier of curtains that covered each drafty window. You couldn’t be too safe.
The floorboards creaked under George’s every step as he navigated the bedroom like he would every weekday and he pulled open the curtains from over one of the corner windows, allowing the room to be illuminated sufficiently by the morning sun. His eyes burned as the stream of bright light came flooding in and he rubbed his eyes with his fists as he once again became adjusted to the reality that surrounded him.
The sunlight guided him to the nearby dust filled table in the corner of the room where he nudged a few of the dated newspapers and magazines to the side, ignoring the way the oldest copy of the Daily Mirror peeked out from the bottom of the pile with a headline that he always avoided looking at and yet couldn’t stomach throwing away.
MAN & WOMAN DEAD IN TRAGIC DUAL SUICIDE
Your wedding picture was printed in black and white just below.
George flipped open his notebook and sat down on the rickey wooden chair to write the date at the top of the fresh page and then recorded his physical status. He took his height, weight, heart-rate, and blood pressure and then did the same for you - all but weight - as you laid limpy on the bed. He scribbled the numbers down carefully and made sure to check you twice just to make sure everything was as it should be - especially since you were now in such delicate condition back in your perfect oasis. He couldn’t afford a single thing to go wrong. You were counting on him after all.
“Perfect numbers today, darling.” George whispered to you as he closed his notebook and capped his pen, returning them both to the messy table across the room.
Having been in only his boxers, George grabbed a folded sweatshirt from the bin under the table and pulled it on to brave against the chilly Scottish air that helped itself through the beams of the worn log cabin otherwise protecting you from the elements. He stepped out of the bedroom and made his way down the narrow hallway to the quaint and virtually untouched kitchen and living room area. The well water collection from Monday still sat on the counter and he scooped himself a glass of water to rehydrate for a moment as he took in the scenic views through the large tinted windows.
Miles of lush forest sprawled in all directions for as far as he could see and after so long, he had started to forget which way was north or even which way civilization was. The Scottish highlands and forests were your only protection. Sometimes he wished you were able to watch the sunrise with him over the mountain peaks ever again but he had to force himself to stop missing what could be and focus on what now is. Your life was perfect together. Just you and him.
Never permitted to set foot outside the cabin, George took the stairs down to the cellar and patted barefoot across the stone floor in the dark until he reached the sliver of light that peeked through the cellar door from outside. Hidden beneath the shallow stairs that led to the fresh air, a grey bin sat in the pitch black.
George knew the routine well so his eyes didn’t need time to focus as he crouched under the stairs and shuffled through the bin in the dark. The rustle of grocery bags drew his hands in and he lifted them up and out of the hiding spot to take back upstairs. He only reached back in for the final item - a small bouquet of flowers still wrapped in cellophane from the store.
With a soft smile on his face, George took his time returning to the kitchen and he set his delivery on the stone countertop. The first bag contained a few food items for him such as non-perishable canned beans, peas, and cooked pastas in tomato sauce as well as a new bar of soap, a razor, and a few more similar necessities. The second bag contained a sealed medical kit in which George found needles, gause, tape, and rubbing alcohol. The medical bag of clear liquid was carefully wrapped in a clean towel alongside it.
George organized the supplies into piles and then lifted up the bouquet of flowers again, pulling down the cellophane slightly to get a good look at the mix of brightly-colored tulips, peonies, roses, and hydrangeas nestled in a halo of baby's breath and greenery. He raised it to his nose to take a deep inhale, savouring the heavenly scent of fresh flowers.
The card that was nestled within the flowers called his attention and he opened the little blank envelope to pull out the message inside.
Happy anniversary 🤍
He always requested weekly flowers from his sister in order to keep some sense of romantic normalcy in your changing lives together but her little sneaky addition of the card brought a tearful smile to his face. He had almost forgotten your anniversary among the strange twists of life and time. Life in your new home was different than in the physical world…both in reality and the linear flow of time. He would have to make a point to buy you something in the shops on his drive back to your shared home that evening.
But the generosity of his older sister never went unnoticed and he thanked the stars that he turned to her to keep your biggest secret. You had allowed George to choose the one person who would be your supplier for virtually the rest of your lives in hiding since he would be the one between the two of you who would return to the real world almost daily. It wasn’t a small ask to have her be the only person in the world to know your whereabouts and your story - to hide that from your families and friends as they grieved what they thought was your tragic and sudden death - but she was your most trustworthy and safest bet. Her devotion to her brother and you - her sister-in-law - was monumental and she managed to deliver the necessities to your secret hideaway twice a week like clockwork. George never knew how he would ever repay her.
George took his time freshening up with the water from the well, sparingly rinsing himself off with soap and a washcloth before shaving over the bone dry bathroom sink to get the best look he could of himself in the grimy and cracked mirror. Even if you would never see him in person again, he always wanted to look his best for you.
Then it was your turn and he took the bags back to your bedroom and set up the chair at your bedside to tend to you. You were laying perfectly still in your nightgown on the sturdy mattress with your ankles bound to the footboard and your arms resting at your sides. The IV needle was taped gently into your forearm and the bag hung on the metal pole just beside the bed, allowing a slow but steady drip of calorie-rich medicated liquid to keep your body fed and nourished while you laid in your stagnant state.
George first replaced the flowers in the vase beside your bed, removing the week-old ones for the fresh ones that had been delivered by his sister. He refilled their water and arranged them nicely and spoke to you quietly about how nice they looked and how pretty they smelled.
With washed hands and wearing medical gloves just to be extra cautious, George gently pulled the tape away from your skin and twisted off the IV drip from the needle that stayed nestled in your forearm. He wiped the area with rubbing alcohol to disinfect it and then retaped the needle in place. As he worked, he thought back to your conversation that morning and tried to imagine where the other husbands were at that moment and how they could tend to their wives like this without their consent. It nearly made George sick to think about that - about the possibility of having the one you loved most trapped there under his control for who knows how long simply for his own gain. That’s what made you and George different. You were in it together. You were in it for each other.
With another clean cloth and the bar of soap, George gently washed down your body and rinsed you off the best he could, tending to you lovingly. He brushed your hair and your teeth and made sure you were lying comfortably even if you couldn’t feel anything. Leaning over you cautiously, he dropped a few eye drops into your still eyes to keep them moist as they were being held open by the metallic clamps.
He then pulled out the new medical bag from the delivery from his sister and replaced it on the IV pole. He screwed in a fresh tube into the bottom of the bag and then attached the other end to the needle in your arm, double checking to make sure the drip was steady and as it should be. You only deserved the most precise treatment.
To pass the day and keep an eye on you, he helped himself to a can of beans that he opened with a dull knife and hid the rest of the food stock away under the table in the bedroom. He sat at your bedside and ate quietly, keeping an eye on you and the IV as the minutes passed in the silence.
When the food was done, George collected all of his garbage and any sign of life from the kitchen to hide away in an empty grocery bag in the bedroom until he would have to place it in the cellar bin for his sister to retrieve at her next stop-over. He locked the bedroom door behind him and returned to your bedside, straightening up the vase on your nightstand and he gently picked up the white music box beside it. The lid was topped with a baby blue decal of a sleeping puppy and framed in little stars and George smiled softly down at it as he turned it around in his hands to crank the tiny handle at the bottom.
He had purchased it years ago when you were first trying for a baby, back when life was simple but the weight of its burdens rested heavy on your shoulders. Back then, it all seemed hopeful and exciting as newlyweds wanting to expand your family and George couldn’t help but buy something to surprise you on the eventual day you would find out you were pregnant. He never ended up being able to gift it to you but it stayed with him the whole time and found its rightful place in this cabin with you while you gave up your lives for your ultimate dream.
When the music box was fully primed, he delicately turned it back around in his hands and opened the lid, letting the familiar gentle tune fill your otherwise silent cabin. He had shamefully played it a few times before when he would find himself alone during the days and waiting beside your still body just like that, maybe to hope for some sort of promise that things would work out. He never knew you could subconsciously hear him during the days when he left to tend to you like that but he found comfort in it too. Neither of you were ever truly alone.
The soft tune played softly from the nursery music box and George helped himself to his side of the bed alongside you, resting back against the pillows to stare at you just a little longer in the patterned lights that were projected to the ceiling of your canopy bed. Soon, he would be called back by the passing of time to return to your true presence in your perfect little paradise with your growing dream tucked safely inside you.
#george russell x reader#george russell imagine#george russell smut#george russell fanfic#george russell fluff#george russell#gr63#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x oc#f1 imagine#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x oc#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 smut#formula 1 fanfic
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Lock Down | Tony Stark
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Insert, T.S x Fem! Reader x Older x Younger Characters, Tony Stark x Y/n! Reader
Word Count: 2,000+
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, SMUT, Dom! Tony Stark,Sub! reader, Rough Sexual Intercourse, Explicit Language, brief smacking, ‘Daddy’ Name calling, semi-Slow burn (not really), Kinky Sex, Hair pulling, Scratching, Explicit Sexual read, Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!)
| Masterlist |
Overriding the passcode to the lab since your lovely boyfriend Tony Stark officially locked himself in the lab because of stress with a new Iron Man suit.
The doors open to the lab as you step into the cold lab you see in the one single spotlight on above a hunched-over man on the table mumbling to himself as it looks like he’s trying to assemble part of a new Arc Reactor into the Iron Man suit with holograms all around him to help his work.
Setting down the tray of Tony’s favorite food on his desk that’s filled with little gadgets that you assume are new because you’ve never seen them before.
Quietly walking up to him as much as your heels allow as you stand behind him watching him build and solder a piece of metal together. It’s fascinating to you that Tony can get so lost in his work and look so beautiful while doing it, so laser-focused in his eyes with his eyebrows scrunched inward because he’s trying to make sense or putting together pieces of information in his mind, the wrinkles that appear on his forehead as his face goes relaxed.
Clearing your mind as you watch Tony's hand move to an object and your hand quickly covers the object as your free left hand snakes up his shoulder.
"Mhmm" Tony hums as he slowly looks at you and he places his hand on top of yours making you smile at him.
"Hi, how are you doing?" You ask gently and Tony gives you a look as his glasses tilt slightly.
"This Arc Reactor is not responding to the suit and I have no idea why…" Tony says quietly to you as you just nod knowing nothing about how all of this works. You're a SHIELD agent, you fight and try to save the world from aliens if possible.
"Anyways, it’s not your problem. What are you doing here?" Tony asks as he turns to you and you hand them the tray of food, which is two cheeseburgers and fries and onion rings.
"To Bring you your favorite food, thought you might need it. Put on a tray to be fancy" You joke with a weird mimic of an upper-class voice in the word ‘fancy’ making Tony smile but he doesn't laugh and he always laughs at your silliness or jokes. That's when you know he’s stressed as you watch him grab a cheeseburger and take a few quick bites as he shoves some of the fries in his mouth before turning around to the piece of the suit.
"…Tony…" you say but he goes back to soldering making you frown as you look around finding the plus as you quickly pull it out of the outlet making Tony instantly look up.
"What was that for?" Tony asks quickly as he reaches for the plug.
"Take a break! Eat something! Stop locking yourself in the lab!" You say him as you throw the plus across the room causing the soldering pen to fly across the table and fall off so Tony won’t touch it.
Tony giving you a wide-eyed look like he always does when he is stressed and when you decide to give him a break.
"Y/n-….Urghhhh" Tony groans out in frustration as he goes to get the tool but you quickly stop getting in between him and the table.
"No. Take a break." You say to him
"Make me! I need to finish this!" Tony says to you but you push him back.
"No, you’re not. Not today." You say and Tony stares at you.
"And who is going to stop me?" Tony asks and you smirk at him.
"I am, So take a break…" you say and Tony stares into your eyes as you stare back and your hands go to him.
"It will be good for you to clear your, Tone…" you say quietly as your hands slowly go underneath his shirt as he looks down at your hands.
"…y/n….I-I… I don’t have the time…I’m on a deadline." Tony says very quietly and you just chuckle.
"A deadline that’s next week…you have time and enough time to take out your frustrations too." You say as your hands skilled in what they do back off and come out of Tony's shirt as they pull your buttoned-up blouse out of pencil pencil-tight skirt, and start unbuttoning the buttons.
Tony watches you as you help you with buttons there and then until your breasts in a beautiful red lace bra are revealed.
"Take a break…it won’t be too bad." You say in the quietness that filled the air.
Tony's hands go to your waist as he lifts you to the lab table quickly. He takes one hand and clears the table with his arm by throwing everything off in one swoop with his arm, not caring about his work.
"You’re right, a break is what I need…Hey, Jarvis…Shut down the lab with soundproof…no one enters." Tony demands from his A. I just chime as the windows, doors, and glass all go dark and black with security screens from within the glass that Tony somehow installed and shut with security locks.
Staring at you as you feel his fingers crawl up your bare stomach now as his fingers hook underneath your bra and chase around to the hooks on the back that he undoes his one shot your bra falling as Tony yanks your shirt and bra off now, throwing them across the giant lab.
Tony's other hand, slides up your thigh underneath your skirt as he feels no underwear causing him to smirk, you planned this. The older man fingers gently caress your pussy causing you to shudder in pleasure for a moment as you hold your lips close so nothing can escape from them.
Seeing that smirk made your breath hitch in the quiet lab as Tony's eyes carefully trailed you up.
"Oh, no underwear…mhm that’s bad, baby girl…what if someone else saw what’s mine?" Tony questions and you just chuckle.
"Trust me, no one did…took them off right before I came in here…" you say with a smirk on your face as Tony grabs your chin tightly almost making your lips pucker as he forces you to look at him.
"You’re a brat…planning this so I can just fuck all my frustrations out on you," Tony says and you just stare at him.
"Yes." You choke out.
"How badly do you want?" He asks
"I want it hard, daddy." You choke out and Tony smirks at you as he lets go of your chin. It's bright red from his fingers.
"What else do you want?" He asks as he sees your hands slip into his pants you can see the growing tension in his pants.
"To please you daddy…" you say confidently as you push Tony back from you as you slip off the lab table completely undoing his pant button and zipper as his pants fall exposing his underwear and underneath with his hard and his growing cock.
Grabbing Tony's shoulder as you turn him around, pushing him against the table as he stares at you going down to your knees as your fingers hook the hem of his boxers and pull them down as a red throbbing big cock leaking precum springs out in front of your face making you smile. Hands grasping his cock firmly at the base as you start pumping him fast and hard making him groan out Tony's hands go to the side of the table to grip onto them as he looks down watching you as you lick your lips.
Sticking your tongue out as you lick one long strip onto his cock as Tony groans more at that sensation of your tongue as your wrap your whole mouth around him as you slowly started bobbing your head up and down on his cock causing Tony to groan out more audible moans.
Hearing his moans encouraged you even more by each one as you started sucking wildly causing Tony's hand to grab a fistful of your hair as your hands went down to hold onto his thighs tightly.
"OH FUCK! How did you get so good at this, baby? God" Tony moans out loudly as you feel him jerk himself inside your mouth making you look up at him. Bobbing your head wildly faster again as you feel Tony thrust his hips into your mouth causing his cock to hit the back of your throat you immediately felt tears well into the back of your eyes but you couldn’t care less about those tears as you for gag as Tony pushes your head into his cock making you gag even more as your mouth made his cock disappear making groan out.
Tony held your head there as your tongue swirled all around his cock and the tip like a lollipop before Tony removed your head and your mouth with a loud pop coming from the suction you had.
"I want you to take all this cum in you…You’re gonna take it, baby." Tony growls as he lifts you by your hair causing you to smile.
"U-…Y-Yesssss, Tonyyy." You slightly moan out as you suddenly feel yourself against the table staring out into the lab as Tony rips your pencil skirt off of you. Tony smacks your ass roughly a couple of times causing you to yelp as he flips you around making you look at him.
Your hands go to Tony's shoulders as he slides right into he lifts into the table causing you to moan out as your free right-hand goes up to his hair and slides through it as you gently pull his hair in pleasure as your left hand and arm go underneath Tony arm and land on his back as your nails meet his back fairly quickly with his second push into you without warning.
Feeling tight hands on your hips as Tony pushes you into his cock as he starts thrusting, pushing your tightly sealed mouth to moan out and your nails dig into his back a bit more.
The thrusts started to pick up even more causing you to moan even more as you closed your eyes still gently tugging on Tony's hair and your nails dragging against his back because you didn’t know what to do with your hairs.
Clenching around Tony tightly causes him to groan as he starts losing himself he puts a hand on your breasts massaging them as he continues to thrust and thrust wildly into you making you a moaning mess, making you get so so so much closer.
“Oh god…I’m almost there..” you moan out, and as you let go of Tony's hair he pulls you up kissing you passionately as you kiss back.
“Fuck….me too…” Tony moans out as she continues to thrusts as they get sloppier, more drawn out as he starts slamming into you harder as his cock starts to twitch in you. Tony slams into you in more time as you start cumming all along his cock he begincumming inside of you quickly causing him to groan out.
Staring at Tony as you smile at him he very slowly pulls out of you making you whimper at the emptiness. Sitting up from the table as you sit on the edge and feel Tony's cum ooze out of you as he watches with a smirk and as he leans in kisses you again as holds you close to him.
“Was that a nice break?” You ask and Tony nods.
“Oh baby, it was perfect.” Tony says as you chuckle softly hopping down from the lab table.
“Wanna take more of a break in the shower?” You ask and Tony smirks softly
“Deadline isn’t until next week…I can make some room..” Tony says with a smirk as you grab clothes and quickly go to the private back way of the lab that leads straight to your bedroom with Tony he laughs while following you.
#avengers fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfic#tony stark#tony stark x reader#mcu x reader#avengers#iron man#mcu smut#tony stark imagine#tony stark smut#tony x reader#tony stark fluff#the avengers#avengers smut#smut with plot#smut with feelings#hardcore smut#smut warning#marvel smut#tony#writing#marvel fic#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#marveladdicts#smut
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lovesick ! || osamu dazai x reader (love diary entry)
genre : fluff !
warnings : none (I DONT REMEMBER??? but petnames if they count.. and mentions of suicide!)
a/n : based off my FAVORITE laufey song <3
story under the cut!
you had gone on an overnight job with atsushi, meaning that you were away from the agency for more than 2 days and dazai was tired of waiting for you.
you two weren't technically together, but if anyone took a glance at you two, they would assume that you and dazai had been in a long relationship. you two were connected by the hip and clicked when you two first met.
dazai was planning on officially making you his but he was scared that you would reject him, or that he would fail on doing it (he's already failed alot of times....)
you and atsushi were currently on the way back from the job, getting food from a nearby restaurant to celebrate your guys' victory. you also had run into akutagawa who was also getting food as well.
"oh hey akutagawa!" you chirped as you saw him in line.
"REALLY?! out of all people we meet him here.. "atsushi complained as he turned to you.
"Hey, y/n" He waved, "weretiger...." he growled as he gave atsushi a death stare.
"Hey now..." You nervously chuckled waving your arms making atsushi hide behind you.
"You here to get food? or is Gin making you pick up her orders again?" You giggled as you hid your smile behind your hand.
"Gin asked me to get her food again, I guess she really loves this place, I've been going every week now." Akutagawa answered as he looked as his receipt, then hearing his number getting called out.
You were ordering food for the agency and your boyfriend-to-be was currently crying and weeping for you. his head was everywhere but in a workspace headspace. he constantly walked to the window and back to the front door waiting for you.
"when is y/n coming back?"
"i miss her," dazai complained as his face was in his palm and his fingers were fidgeting with a pen.
"shes on a job with atsushi, she should be back soon or around evening." kunikida answered as he stood up and grabbed his notebook.
"shes on a job with atsushi" He weaped, as he threw the pen down on his desk and put his head down.
"shes on a job with at atsushi." he repeated as his fingers ran through his hair, his head hanging deeper into his arms.
"Is he lovesick?" kyouka asked kunikida innocently with kunikida replying with that he was just doing anything to get out of work.
Suddenly, the agency filled up with the smell of grilled onions, meat and fried rice. glass bottles being set on the table as well as bags and bags of food.
"Oh hey Y/n-chan!" Ranpo chirped, "awesome!! did you get the ramune bottles as well?!"
"Duh! How can I forget? It's literally your favorite so I had to get it," You answered showing him a case of ramune bottles.
"This is awesome! Thanks!" Ranpo said as he ran to get the bottles and hugged you.
"Shes on a job with atsushi..." Dazai mumbled again, hoping that you would come soon, oblivious to the fact that you were already there.
"Y/n-San please do something about him.." Kunikida mumbled, before helping Yosano out with the food.
you sat in the nearest office chair and laid your head next to dazai's putting your hand in his hair, "yeah, i was on a job with atsushi" you replied, watching his head swiftly turn to yours and his eyes checking you out.
he stood up in surprise and got up, "my bella~!" he sang as he pulled you up into a hug, resting his chin on your head. he was fighting the intrusive thought to shower you with his kisses.
"wow, i missed you too dazai," You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his tall slender figure, your fingers making its way to his cheeks slightly pinching them.
"He missed you so much he couldn't even focus on doing his reports!" Ranpo laughed, as Kouyka giggled at his statement.
"Oh shut it! You can't be saying that about my poor baby, your boyfriend is literally the same without you!" You retorted back at him, while hugging dazai's head.
"you heard her, I'm her baby!" dazai sung in a happy voice.
"Hey! Poe is not my boyfriend!" Ranpo scoffed as he folded his arms.
"Then why did i—" You paused, "Fine fine! Don't tell them!" Ranpo yelled as he cut you off from finishing your sentence.
"That's what I thought!" You chuckled as you let go of dazai, reaching for his hand.
"I thought I wasn't going to be able to live without you here!" Dazai pouted.
You watched your boyfriend-to-be fidget with his bandages, then grabbing both of your hands.
"Bella, we should go out! let me be your boyfriend, please please see please please~!"
"We can be together all we want! We can go on jobs and missions together, we can cuddle together, we can go on dates together, we can lay in bed together, we can live together! we can commit a double suicide together! there's so many things we can do together!"
You giggled at his sudden statement, the nodded. "Yes, dazai, you can be my boyfriend," Next thing you knew his arms flew around your small body, and ending up on the ground.
He began peppering your neck and cheeks with his kisses that he planned on doing to you since earlier, but he's just glad that he was able to shower you with kisses. "You're mine mine mine mine mine," He said as he gave you a kiss after everytime he said "mine,"
"Damn it..."
"GET A ROOM YOU TWO BASTARDS?!"
#guess who yells at you two at the end of the fic#bsd#bungo stray dogs#samu's thoughts#bsd fanfic#bsd dazai#dazai fanfic#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#dazai fluff#samutoru
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love the prompt list! what about 38 with benny blanc? 😇
A/N: Yes, of course! Thank you so much for requesting! I was going to do another Glass Onion inspired one but decided to not do another one like that for this one. I accidentally went too far & now it's all sad with a happy ending.
Prompt: 38. Craving their company after a stressful day
Contains: Angst, Benoit cries (AHHHHH), mention of a gun, near-death experience, short one shot
Pairing(s): Benoit Blanc x GN!Reader
Benoit got in his car & let out a huff. It wasn't really of anger, more like... letting go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. He almost died today. An officer was chasing the suspect in his direction. The yelling of the officer made him turn around, he was just looking at some bootprints with another officer. He was too late, the man hurdled into Benoit & caught him off guard. The man pulled Benoit in front of him & held a gun to his head. He froze as the man yelled at the surrounding officers & the next ten seconds felt like years as his mind raced to you. He thought he'd never see you again. A gunshot launched him out of his frozen state, he put his hand to his head where the gun had rested. He was fine. Benoit looked up to see an officer with his gun pointed out towards him, smoke emitting from it. He quickly turned to see the man behind him dead on the floor. Now he's here, alone in his car. A knock caught his attention, making him jump & turn to the side.
"I didn't mean to scare you, Blanc. Just wanted to check if you want a ride, you seem really shaken."
He did just have a gun pointed at him, not like the officer meant it so harshly. Benoit placed his hand on the wheel & forced a tight-lipped smile.
"I'm fine, officer. Thank you."
"Alright Blanc, I'm sorry all that happened. If you need any resources for therapy I'm sure our receptionist can set you up."
Benoit was bouncing his leg, desperate to get home, "I'll look into that, thank you, officer."
With that, the officer let him go & Benoit pulled out & onto the road. Despite being eager to get home he was very careful while driving. He had to make it home to you in one piece. He found himself checking the rearview mirror to make sure no one was behind him. Soon enough, you heard the sound of keys at the door before Benoit walked in.
"Hey, baby! I'm watching (favorite tv show) right now, come join me!" You spoke excitedly from your spot on the couch.
Benoit walked over to you & picked you up like it was nothing. You protested, claiming you didn't want to miss your show but he was quiet & didn't let go. He brought you to your shared room & laid you down on the bed before climbing in & laying on top of you, his head buried in your chest. He hugged your waist tightly & took a deep breath.
"Benoit, baby, what's wrong?"
That broke him, he started bawling his eyes out & his grip grew tighter. He told you everything that happened & you returned the tight hug, in pure disbelief of the words he told you. Benoit sits up, straddling your hips & crying like a baby, you sit up with him.
"& I-I- thought I'd never see you again. You were all I thought about & I just wanted you to hug me & say it would all be alright."
To say you'd never seen Benoit like this was an understatement. He was the one that helped others, wiped their tears & solved their problems. You were glad that he felt like he could be not okay around you & talk about his feelings. You brush your thumbs across his cheeks to wipe his face. His eyes were growing red & they snapped to look at you.
"I love you, Benoit. I'm so sorry that this all happened, I'm here to help however I can. Even if that is just cuddles & listening, I will do anything for you."
"Thank you, Y/N. You are my world."
The two of you cuddled & talked for hours. He felt safe in your arms & you in his. You turned on soft music & put on a bath for him (His favorite /j) & offered to leave him be to relax.
"No, Y/N- Please stay."
So you did. You didn't want to get in the bath so you pulled up a chair next to him & read a book aloud. He admitted that your voice was incredibly soothing in this moment. Benoit asked for a back massage after a while & you happily obliged, feeling a little bad when you felt how tense his back was. After the bath, you two finally headed to bed.
#benoit blanc x y/n#benoit blanc x you#benoit blanc#benoit#benoit blanc x reader#silly little gay detective#glass onion#knives out#netflix#gay#lgbt#lgbtq#detective#male reader#angst#one shot
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Kids and a 'break up'
quinn hughes x nhl player!reader
note: takes place probably april 9th
warning: period blood, maybe getting second hand embarrassment, pregnancy/kids talk (no one gets pregnant)
word count: 1k
The sun shining through the blinds, waking Y/n from her deep sleep. Slowly slipping Quinn’s arm from around her waist, shuffling towards the bathroom, the cold apartment is a stark difference from the warm bed especially with just wearing a pair of Quinn’s boxers and a cropped t-shirt.
The girl washing her face and brushing her teeth, then moving to the toilet, only then did Y/n notice the crisis she was in. She hadn’t gotten her period in a couple months, and it always was irregular so it was only a matter of time until this happened.
“Oh fuck..” Y/n mumbles to herself, before getting a tampon from under the sink, Quinn had bought some without her asking after the woman started staying over more and more. The boy was always so thoughtful towards her and it wasn’t just this, he learned that she hates onions and when they went out with the team the other night he reminded her to ask for no onions when she forgot, and always lets her have a bite of whatever he’s having. And it was to the point where it was starting to worry Y/n that maybe Quinn was getting attached, but that was not something to worry about right now.
Then washing her hands, and exiting the bathroom to find Quinn stripping the bed. “No Quinny, you don’t have to do that.” she assures the boy, walking over to her side of the bed to take over, “No, no, I can. Grab another pair of boxers from my drawer.” What he was saying was embarrassing, the fact he saw the blood spot on his boxers she was wearing, but the way Quinn said it was so caring, and understanding. That she couldn’t help but not feel embarrassed at all. Folding up the sheet, and moving towards the door, “I’m gonna go wash these.” “Thanks, Quinny.” “Of course.”
After changing into a new pair of Quinn’s boxers, Y/n makes her way into the living room and seeing the man sitting on the couch, “Hey, baby!” “Hey, sorry about that.” “Nah, it’s fine, it’s natural.. And at least we know you’re not pregnant.” maybe not a good topic to bring up with your teammate/fuck-buddy, especially when he wants more from their relationship.
“Oh well, don’t have to worry about that.” The woman laughs out, but looking up when she didn’t hear Quinn join in, “What do you mean?” Looking up from her phone, “My tubes are tied, I can’t get pregnant” “Ever?” “No not never, I also got my eggs frozen so after I retire if I want kids I'll have them then.” At that, Y/n thought the conversation was done. But Quinn was not done at all.
“‘If’? You’re not sure you want kids?” Quinn had made all these plans for them in his head, but this was the first time he thought they might not happen; for a reason other than him being too scared to ever ask her out on a date.
But Y/n being Y/n was oblivious to the fact that Quinn clearing wanted more, and that this conversation to him wasn’t between friends, it was between himself and the girl he wants more than anything. So of course, once again, she gives him a one dimensional answer, “Well it’s hard to say, not anytime soon. Not that I had a guy even if I did want them now.”
“What about me?”
There was a significant shift in the air, Y/n finally realising how important this conversation was to him, putting down her phone; looking into Quinn’s eyes, reading every thought, and feeling every emotion. “...Quinn. No. No- that’s not fair, you knew this was nothing serious. We agreed this was nothing serious-”
Quinn abruptly stands, walking into the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water, “I wasn’t done! Quinn, we said we wouldn’t get attached, that this was-” “Well you can't control when you love someone.”
After another pause between them, Y/n not knowing how to process or respond to Quinn’s confession. He loved her. And before this, Y/n thought she didn’t have any feelings other than sexual attraction, but at this moment; Y/n couldn’t say that.
And that terrified her.
“Quinn. We can’t do that. And I don’t feel the same-” The woman was cut off, by Quinn finally fully expressing his emotions, harshly setting the glass in his hand on the counter with a loud noise, “Don’t tell me you don’t. ‘Cause with the way you act with me I can tell you do. And I know that scares you, but I'm tired of pretending that I don't want more with you.”
Turning her face away, no longer being able to look at Quinn any longer without bursting into tears. Because, god, he was right. She liked him- maybe loved him, but that doesn’t change the fact she wasn’t ready. “I don’t.” She had never lied to Quinn, it felt weird coming out of her mouth.
“Bullshit! I know you do!” “I don’t love you.” “Why can’t you?”
Turning her face back to face the man, tears streaming down her face, and seeing the mirroring image back at her on him. “I think we should end this… I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Oh well, don’t have to worry about that.”
Quickly gathering her things, Y/n exits the apartment she has grown to know so well over the past few months, she loved every part of it. Hot tears were rolling down her cheeks, while in the elevator, in the lobby, and getting in her car. Slamming the door shut, mad at the world, and at herself. “Fuck!” Y/n loved the time she and Quinn spent together, wishing she could let herself be happy, her heart telling her Quinn would never hurt her, but her head telling the opposite. What she didn’t expect to happen was her doing all the hurting.
After the door shuts to his apartment, Quinn letting out all his feelings and emotions, slams his fist into the wall; making a small dent. “Fuck!” At the start of their ‘relationship’ he couldn’t even call it that, Quinn thought he would finally break down all her walls and get to be with the girl he loved, someone he thought would never hurt him, that he spent so much time making sure he didn’t cross boundaries and didn’t hurt her, what he didn’t expect was her doing the all hurting.
~taglist~
@books-hlmc
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x nhl player!reader#quinn hughes x player!reader#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x fem reader#quinn hughes x fem!reader#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes x y/n
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best game in the league
nico hischier x actress!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, not proofread
liked by madelyncline, charles_leclerc and 472,973 others
ynofficial: hot girl shit w/ jimmy fallon tonight
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fan1: slay bestie
fan2: you literally never miss
charles_leclerc: ferrari admin thanks you for repping
liked by ynofficial
fan3: charles?
fan4: i always forget they're friends
madelyncline: u make me question things about myself
ynofficial: i mean, if you ever need help with that...
liked by ynsuperfan, maddiebaby234 and 1,292 others
enews: Days after announcing she's officially off the market, Daisy Jones and the Six's y/n l/n and Glass Onion's Madelyn Cline spotted leaving the New Jersey Devil's NHL game tonight. The two have a history of flirting on Instagram and many years of friendship under their belts - could Madelyn be Y/N's beau?
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fan5: pretty sure madelyn has a bf?
fan6: y/n swings both ways but madelyn does not unfortunately
fan7: does enews not know what friendship is?
fan8: they always go to hockey games together lmao it's nothing new
liked by sukiwaterhouse, reneerapp and 592,163 others
ynofficial: 13
and no, enews, madelyn is not my gf (she's my wife)
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enews: interesting
njdevils: blasting red rn because of you
ynofficial: taylor's version?
njdevils: only ever taylor's version
fan9: i think that women-
madelyncline: ur my good looking girl
fan10: mommies
fan11: i need you to do vogue's 73 questions in your new house
ynofficial posted to their story
liked by ynofficial, charles_leclerc and 213, 186 others
britishvogue: a sneak peek into y/n's new home as requested...featuring a familiar face in a photo frame
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charles_leclerc: of all pictures ynofficial you have that one?
ynofficial: it was the only one i had where you didn't look like a goblin
fan12: the mat!! the mirror!! charles!!
fan13: they knew each other when they were babies???? I HAD NO IDEA
fan14: probably to avoid dating rumours :/
fan15: not yn out here having a frame photo of charles like a proud mum
liked by charles_leclerc and ynofficial
fan16: what if it's charles?
fan17: she said in an interview she still lives in america, and charles lives in monaco
fan18: they're completely platonic
liked by jhughes, madelyncline and 48,173 others
nicohischier: swipe for a soft launch
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jhughes: NICO??? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING???
trevorzegras: dude you have the best game in the league
fan19: honey we agreed not to tell anyone
fan20: and another one bites the dust
liked by nicohischier, gracieabrams and 629,123 others
ynofficial: i might not do crystal meth in the bathroom but i definitely do a hockey captain
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fan21: OH MY GONWJ
fan22: i need to know if she's sober is she sober
madelyncline: absolutely not no
charles_leclerc: LMFAO WAS THIS SUPPOSED TO GO ON YOUR MAIN?????
fan23: icon behaviour
fan24: NICO???? OH
ynofficial: that's what i say too
fan25: fuck ok
jhughes: nicohirschier
nicohirschier: wOw she's hot
jhughes: you're just as wasted aren't you?
nicohischier: yah
fan26: literally how did no one get this???????? all the twitter threads and no one thought the reason she was such a devils fan was because she was dating their captain?????
fan27: GUYS TWITTER CRASHED WTF
liked by charles_leclerc, ynofficial and 123,862 others
nicohischier: i'm the captain in case you didn't know
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ynofficial: yeah you are
charles_leclerc: oh we knew
nicohischier: oops
ynofficial: wait this means people know i have feelings
nicohischier: feelings? ew
madelyncline: are we in fifth grade or something?
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liked by madelyncline, sukiwaterhouse and 823,134 others
ynofficial: i'm a wag now, and as a wag i'm going to create a little (emphasis on little) list of things i've learnt over the last 2 years: if he bleeds he's not going to die, he might just need extra cuddles for a few days; fighting is BAD, it is definitely not something to encourage *wink*; nico will feel physically ill if he doesn't have a glass of orange juice each morning; roadies suck but the sex is phenomenal; jack is like our pet dog - feed him, give him shelter and love him unconditionally
also, i'm now gonna log off social media for a while because this is all the simping i'm comfortable with this month sorry
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nicohischier: am i a wag too?
ynofficial: omg you ARE
nicohischier: oh my god i love the wag lifestyle
_quinnhughes: i'm gonna frame that analogy of jack
ynofficial: i can send you a print i already did it
jhughes: rude
charles_leclerc: from one red guy to the other, can i be best man?
ynofficial: you can be my man of honour, madelyn's would be my maid
madelyncline: when is the wedding
fan28: WEDDING? WTF
fan29: i love how yn went from completely avoiding all questions about a romantic relationship and now she's hibernating because she's been figured out
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