#i have a longer fic that i've been working on since the fucking summer that still isn't done but i hope i can get it done before break endss
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second beginnings // c. berzatto
back at it again with another fic. i've missed writing for carmy so, so much.
Spring in Chicago was nothing like you’d ever seen. An already vibrant city seemed to welcome a new light as Winter loosened its frosty grip upon the streets. Gone was the slush and sleet that crowded the gutters and pavements, once treacherous journeys were now leisurely strolls. Small petals drifted down from the newly flowering trees that lined the sidewalk, and one landed in your hair as you wandered towards your apartment.
Having just spent the better part of Saturday morning in a crowded studio, steady hand guiding a finely polished brush over expensive canvas at some art class your sister had dragged you to, you were ready to get home and relax. There were avocados, cream cheese, and a bag of store-bought bagels on your bench, and you could almost hear them calling your name.
Matching your pace to the song playing in your headphones, you almost didn’t notice the man in the alley as you passed by a dingy building with newspaper covering the windows. You paused mid-step, taking a closer look. Plucking one headphone out, you called a name that hadn’t passed your lips in a very long time.
“Carmen?” The man turned, cigarette between his lips. “Carmen Berzatto?”
Starting down the alley towards him, you weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, but his eyebrows raised as he took you in. And as he said your name, welcoming you with a rough hug and a ‘no fucking way,’ you couldn’t help but grin.
It had been ten long summers since you’d seen him, and he was no longer the gangly teenager he’d been back then. You’d kept tabs on him through the years, unable to just let him disappear from your life after the monumental Christmas night that still made your blood run cold if you thought about it too much. Reading all those articles, watching from afar as he racked up achievements in the culinary world, working in the most prestigious restaurants across the world…
But then why was he here, standing before you in a back alley in Chicago, looking so… empty?
“You’re back in town?” He asked, hands still bracketing your shoulders as though he thought you’d disappear if he let go. “I thought you flew off to Italy or something.”
“I did, yeah. Hung out in Florence for a bit, eventually ended up in France. Brittany, but then I did a very, very brief holiday stint in Monaco. Fucking expensive there. Went and stayed with one of my aunts in Belgium, and—” You were rambling now, and Carmen was just staring at you, taking in every word.
“Sorry. Yeah. I’m back in town. Gonna stay around for a while, help my sister out.”
Carmy nodded, his gaze drifting skyward, then to the cars passing on the street, before settling on you again. “Yeah, cool. Your sister, she just, uh…” He snapped his fingers at his side, trying to recall whatever he was going to say next. “She just had a baby, right? Yeah, Natalie told me. At least, I think that’s who she was talking about.”
Nodding, a soft smile on your face, you were about to say something else when the screeching of metal broke through the Spring afternoon, and a door swung open spilling a young woman out into the alley. She was gorgeous, dark braids held back by a patterned bandana, with a kind face that, at the minute, was warped by a frown.
“Uh, chef, we’re gonna need you back in here.” She glanced over her shoulder, back through the door, hands anxiously fiddling with the cloth tucked into her apron. “Like, now. I’m so sorry, person I’ve never seen before, but who I can tell Carmy actually wants to talk to… from the way he’s staring at me right now.”
The woman smiled at you, offering a small wave that your returned. You liked her already. “I’m just gonna…” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder and disappeared back through the door.
Carmen turned back to you, sighing. Running a tattooed hand through his hair, still just as unruly as it had been in his youth, he shook his head.
“That’s Sydney. She’s, uh, she’s great. Talks a lot.”
You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets. “She seems cool.”
“She is, yeah. Um, yeah, anyways.”
Silence descended, tainted only by the faint clatter and bang of… whatever was going on through that door. A breeze ruffled his curls, blowing them into his eyes, and he looked like that quiet wallflower again. The boy you’d once known. But as you stood there, taking him in, had he really changed at all?
His piercing gaze caught on yours, but he looked away instantly, almost guiltily.
“Well, I should go. It was… really nice to run into you.” The way he said it, like admitting a weighted truth, made something in your chest tighten.
Nodding, you said your goodbyes, and turned back to the street, continuing on your way home. Though the quick thud of footsteps on the pavement made you pause, and you turned to find Carmen catching up to you.
“Can I see you again?” The question flew out of his mouth before he could second guess it. “To, like, talk, or somethin’?”
“I’d like that.”
#the bear#the bear fx#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#jeremy allen white#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you
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when you wash your hair, joel miller
summary: IN WHICH — you decide to surprise a sleeping joel after you've been working all day outside of jackson's walls, but it doesn't go as you plan.
warnings: gender neutral x joel miller, post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, mentions of you and joel in a relationship, sub!joel, joel has ptsd, joel almost hurts reader (doesn't tho so dw!), lots of fluff at the end, cute ending, lots of swearing, ellie being annoying as per usual LOL. lmk if there’s anything i missed <3
wordcount: 2.6k
a/n: hiiii this is my very first fic on tumblr! i have been obsessed w/ tlou for the LONGEST time now so why not start writing for my fav fictional mass murderer? anyway- hope u guys enjoy! i plan to post a ton more so stay tuned xoxo
—
You had just finished an ungodly long shift along the outskirts of Jackson, keeping everyone inside safe from- well, whatever lay outside (scary squirrels, mostly). It had been so different since you arrived, with Joel and Ellie. For starters, you weren't kept on edge every single second of every single day - Joel was, which you always got pissed at him for, since you two were more than safe inside these walls. There was also the fact that life had sort of just- resumed, after twenty years of fighting for your life. It was alright, though, a sense of normalcy was nice, even if it were to only last for a little while (you were hoping it lasted forever).
As soon as you were inside the gates of Jackson, you rode over to the stables in which your horse, Leo, was housed at. The big wooden doors were opened by a stable hand that looked no older than Ellie, maybe she knew who this was, you thought to yourself.
You had slid the kid a small "thank you." as they closed the door behind you, and you hopped off Leo. You reached in your bag and scrounged for a second, before pulling out an apple core, the remains of the apple you had eaten earlier. "Here boy," your hand raised towards the horse's snout with the leftovers in-palm, and he took it as if it were the best thing in the world.
Leo munched away while you swapped his bridle for a halter and lead, tugging him to his freshly-mucked stall. He had walked over to his water bucket and you moved with him, undoing his girth and removing his saddle. It was hoisted over your arm as you moved out and locked his stall. "Excuse me," You called over to the stable hand that had let you in as you put all of his tack on the stand in front, "Do you mind brushing him down for me? I've had a long day and gotta get home quick."
The kid nodded their head eagerly, which had earned a smile from you. You weren't lying about having a long day or needing to get home quick - besides, you had always stayed after your shifts, right now you were just craving to see your favourite person (and a warm bath too, you had guessed).
You had removed your gloves as you took one last glimpse at your boy before you left him to be taken care of by the stable hand. As you walked out of the stable, you were greeted with a nice breeze. It wasn't exactly winter yet, but it sure as hell wasn't summer. Autumn was close on finishing, which only meant the days were getting longer.
It took you a mere twenty five minutes to walk back to the Miller residence. If you had a little pep in your step, it would've taken no longer than fifteen. But, being up since before sunrise has its cons. Anyway, it isn't your fault that Tommy and Maria (Joel's brother and new sister-in-law) placed you guys in the farthest house literally ever.
As you approached closer to the home, you could see the familiar little (she would kill you if she heard you describe her as little) girl. The girl took notice of you too, "Fucking finally!" Ellie had kicked up her skateboard, grabbing the tip of it, and came running over. "Jesus Christ, I thought you had got eaten by like- fucking bigfoot out there!", She seemed to be only half-joking.
"I was not eaten out there, Ellie." You sigh as you messed her hair up slightly with your hand, "Is Joel still out on patrol?" You had asked the girl. Her face dropped, earning an "ugh!" from her. "You two love birds are gross. You should care more about me than him! He's a frail, broken, old man while I'm a super cool, and totally awesome young person." You rolled your eyes, an automatic laugh escaping your lips. "Another half an hour out here, Elle. It's almost sundown- and please be careful, for fuck sakes. I don't want to be popping your kneecap back in place because of a fall off that- board."
You weren't Ellie's mom, and you didn't mean to take any place of a motherly figure in her life - it just, sort of happened. After what had happened in Salt Lake City a year ago, and you had fought for Ellie back alongside Joel, you couldn't help but grow so much more attached to her- you and Joel both. This is when your motherly instincts (you were never a mother, not before or during this apocalyptic world) kicked in. You both shared a special bond, one that would never be broken, despite the cruel world you both live in.
A small grunt and a "fine" escaped the girl's lips as she flips her board down and kicks off down the street. You shake your head with an almost disapproving look and walk down the rest of the block to your home. A small smile plays upon your lips as you approach the house with a mailbox at the bottom of the driveway that reads "MILLER". Your last name was not Miller, but you were in a relationship with a Miller, so that could maybe, in the slightest, count as your name too.
Your hand brushed past the rusted metal box as you walk up the paved drive way, you're excited to see Joel. Hell, it feels like it's been an eternity since you've seen that man - when in reality, it's only been since this morning. You climb up the wooden stairs at the front of your porch and remove your boots before entering the house - this saved horrid amounts of mud that would scatter in the small foyer of your home. Once your feet are out of your dirty boots, you silently enter the home.
The door was never locked, not when Joel knew you or Ellie weren't home. You didn't know why he kept it unlocked- maybe in case something had happened and you needed to get home fast, or in case you would lose your keys while out and about. It wasn't that big of a deal, though; nobody else lived in this part of the town (besides Tommy and Maria, who were distant neighbours).
It was dead silent when you entered, too eery for your liking. "Joel?" You called out as you shrugged off your autumn layers. No response. "Joel?" You call out once again, moving to where you had seen the light. You approached tip-toeing, starting to get a bit on edge. Joel was always there to greet you when you got home, unless he had patrol duty himself. As soon as you step foot in your living room, all of the previous worries you had melted away as you saw your favourite person curled up on the arm chair, sitting back and mouth open slightly. You wish you had a camera, god a polaroid of this would be amazing.
You approached him, quiet as ever, sliding the sleeves of your soft-knit sweater over ninety percent of your hands. You had brought your face closer to Joel's once you were close enough. The smell of his vanilla and rose scented shampoo had engulfed you. Joel said he hated it (in reality, he definitely did not), but if it made you love him a little more, he would wash his hair with it.
"You're perfect, you know that." You whisper to him, even though he was sound asleep. From the faded freckles over the bridge of his nose from being out in the sun too much this summer, to the small scars that littered his forehead from years of just surviving, he was perfect.
You breathed hushly as you moved your hands up to his face, to cup his cheeks. You thought it was perfect, for him to wake up to you (as if he didn't every morning) at this moment. You knew he missed you when he wasn't with you, he told you multiple times. This would be a nice thing to make his day slightly better, you had thought. Your fingers made soft contact with the flesh on his face - but, this is where it all went wrong.
Joel had shot up from the deep (well, you thought deep) sleep he was in and grabbed the hands that were touching his face. It hadn't registered to him that it was actually you who was touching his face, and not a clicker, or a raider, or anything else. Rage and a sense of fear filled his eyes as they shot opened, eyebrows furrowed as they looked around frantically - he was ready to fight.
A loud grunt and an "ow." escaped your lips once your hands were grabbed and yanked. It had happened within a blink of an eye. You weren't exactly in the mood for getting manhandled in this current moment, but here you were. "Joel- hey, hey, it's just me. You're okay." You spoke quick, trying to pry him off your hand.
It was now that his eyes had met yours, and it took him a moment (which felt like eternity) to process it was you. "Baby.." His grip immediately loosened and his eyes fell. He looked horrified, at himself rather than anything. "M'sorry." There was a tone in his voice that made him sound ashamed, like he had just broken bad news to someone he loved.
"Don't apologize to me, Jesus Christ." You spoke almost too fast and brought your hand to his face again, you felt bad for scaring him awake- your plan had massively backfired. It took Joel a minute before he melted into the touch of your hand in his cheek, something he will only do when it is only you and him around each other. "Shouldn't have been sleepin' while you weren't home." He muttered, his eyes looking everywhere but at yours.
Your heart ached, he shouldn't feel like this- fuck, you're so stupid for doing this you thought to yourself. "Don't apologize baby, hey-" You brought his focus to you, and only you, "-listen, you're alright, okay? We're safe here, you know. I'm safe, Ellie's safe, you're safe." You reassured the man in front of you. "If you want to sleep all day without a care in the world, you can do it."
Joel was being extremely vulnerable right now- and he knew that you sensed it. This part of him never came out, he was always the strong one in the relationship (not that you weren't, he just had that aura linked to him). Your finger rubbed back and forth over his cheek. "M'sorry for waking you from your nap- I was just too jealous of how peaceful you looked. All comfortable in your blue sweater.." your eyes started to trail down his body right in front of you, "-your sweatpants.." you snapped yourself out of the trance you had fallen in, your eyes reaching back up to Joel's.
He was just quiet, in his own thoughts. "Ya'know I love you." you told him. He looked like he snapped out of his own thoughts once you said this to him, the smallest smile known to man appearing on his face (it was genuine, though). "I know, darlin'." This was your cue, you reached forward and placed your lips onto Joel's. Now this, this was home- god, you could've had your lips on his all day for eternity. Joel melted into the kiss, and placed one of his hands on your thighs.
Things had got heated between the two of you within seconds, suddenly the positions were switched and you were straddling Joel on the armchair in your living room. It wasn't until you tore apart from his lips that it hit you. "Ellie’s going to be home soon, baby. We can't have her catching us like this- not again." You tell him as you catch your breath. His lips find your neck, he only hummed in response. After a moment of no proper response from him, you tap his shoulder, "Seriously, Joel!". He had grunted, basically forcing himself off of you. "So let her see us, not like she don't know 'bout it." He muttered, leaning back in the chair you two were in. "Oh, suddenly you're mister PDA?" You asked as you got up, stretching.
He said something under his breath that you couldn't catch, but chose not to pressure him about it. "But hey.." You grab his hand and help him up, "Maybe you could help me in the shower, hm? Let me borrow some o' that good smellin' shampoo ya' got? Wash my hair for me?” Your eyes met his, a smile completely lighting up your entire face. "I'on mind, doll. Maybe you could help me with a few things too," He reaches down, pressing a wet kiss onto your lips.
You take this as the perfect time to slip your fingers between his, and lead him up to the second floor of your large house. Even though you had completely scared the shit out of Joel earlier, and you thought you were a dead man for a split second, he forgave you. He always forgives you - this is why you love him.
Joel had promised you that he would always stay, no matter what had happened between you two. After years of being together, through your ups and your downs, through your serious arguments and your little scares (like this), he was yours. Joel was always yours, and you were always his.
You two come laughing down the stairs, completely soaked from the shower you had taken together. Joel was back in the clothes he wore when you got home, and you were changed into one of his shirts and a pair of sleeping shorts you had. He had his hand in yours as you lead him down the stairs. Before you could even step foot on the first floor, an "ew!" was yelled by a familiar voice.
"That is fucking disgusting- I cannot believe it! I can't leave you two together for more than thirty minutes before you turn into fucking rabbits. I may as well start thinking about names for the baby!" Ellie over exaggerates, acting completely disgusted from you and Joel holding hands.
Joel shoots Ellie a death glare as he drops his hand from yours momentarily, about to open his mouth before you interrupt. "Do I need to send you to your room, or something? You're so fucking crazy Elle!" You had let the little nick name slip out of your mouth, "You know I would never do anything unholy under the same roof as you." Well, you weren't lying. You and Joel never did it while Ellie was there, you didn't want anyone hearing what happened while you two were alone.
"Don't care, that's gross! Dinner is already made, I am GOING TO BED!" She had yelled as she was already half way up the stairs to her room on the second floor. Joel's hand snaked around your waist from behind as you tsk. "We got stuck with the most batshit crazy kid, I'm telling you."
Joel's hand tightens a smudge when you say that, "I love her though, and you I guess." He rests his head between the crook of your neck and slightly lets go once you add that. Even after the little bicker between the teenager, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.
Even though you were in the midst of an apocalypse, life couldn't have been anymore good to you. They gave you Joel, and you were content - more than content - with it.
—
when you wash your hair, matt maltese
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel tlou#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ell#ellie the last of us#joel the last of us#joel miller the last of us#ellie williams the last of us#joel x you#joel x reader#x reader#gn reader#chasedbyatlantic#joel#miller#the last of us
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Cowboy Up - Pt.6
A/n: It's here y'all! After this part we'll be getting into the show and I can't wait to start incorporating my own character into the episodes!
I need your input! I'm currently going through the show episode by episode to pull out what I want to use for this fic and I've reached ep5 when Travis first turns up and I am seriously undecided about his relationship with the reader. It is more than likely that they would have interacted on the circuit but I'm split between him having a flirty relationship or a older-brother-protective vibe. Let me know your thoughts!
Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader
WC: 1649
Previous part - Next part
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That summer was one of the hottest y/n could ever recall having in Montana. Unfortunately hot weather didn’t negate the fact that there was always work to do on the ranch. Yesterday one of the freshly backed colts had thrown a fit in the corral resulting in kicking the fence hard enough to break it. So the job for the day was to put a new log into the fence so they could use the corral again.
Y/n had abandoned jeans in favour of shorts out in the sun, a tank top and she had opted to swap her cowboy hat for the cap Kayce had given her for her birthday despite having claimed she’d never wear it around the wranglers. Lloyd was holding the log up whilst she worked to secure it to the post.
Around the corral the other hands were doing their own work and a small group of them were hiding from the sun in the shade of the barn. They were mostly busy watching y/n do her own work, more specifically how she looked in her shorts.
“God damn that girl has an ass,” one of them commented.
Another one agreed, “you just know that she’d give you a good time.”
Colby and Ryan were a little way off cleaning tack getting more annoyed at every comment the men were making. Ryan was getting more frustrated by what they were saying and how oblivious she was to how they were treating her. His friend was less concerned about that and more occupied trying to stop the hand from doing something he would regret.
Rip emerged from the barn to say something to them when Ryan snapped at them, “will you shut the fuck up? It’s disgusting to hear you talk about her like that. She’s your boss’ daughter for fuck sake have some damn respect. Someone’ll rip your tongues out for saying that next time.”
Y/n overheard his shouting from across the corral and couldn’t help but smile to herself at his defence of her. Ever since Rip had threatened him (and the rest of the bunkhouse but they clearly hadn’t taken those threats to heart) after finding her asleep in Ryan’s bunk years ago, he’d been very careful with his interactions with the younger woman. They’d remained close friends, and he’d been instrumental in her integration with the wranglers, but it had never gone further than that despite what both of them not-so-secretly wanted to happen.
Lloyd looked at the smile on her face and rolled his eyes, “y’all have been pining after each other for years. When will it end?”
“If I had a say in it it would’ve been over before anyone noticed but if he has it his way it seems like never,” y/n sighed, “I think Rip’s threat from forever ago ruined it.”
He watched Ryan whose eyes were on her, “might go insane if I have to watch y’all making eyes at each other for much longer. You and I can both handle Rip if needs be.”
She laughed at the idea of someone ‘handling’ Rip. The only people she believed were able to handle the foreman were her father and Beth, no matter how poorly her sister treated the man. In reality, Rip had a soft spot for the youngest Dutton and Lloyd was the only wrangler on the ranch that would stand a chance arguing against Rip. He left her to go and deal with something else, leaving Colby to help with the other side of the fence.
“Swear he woulda murdered them if it had gone on much longer,” her friend joked, “practically fire in his eyes when he saw how they were looking at you.”
Y/n shook her head, “I’ve been trying to get him to make a move since I was 18, Colby. I don’t think he’s gonna start now.”
“I love both of you but I will help Lloyd lock you in the tack room if this goes on any longer. Feel sorry for the poor bastard watching this for years. I’m done with it after a few months,” Colby laughed, “just make a move for everyone’s benefit.”
-/-/-
That evening the temperature had cooled down from the scorcher of the afternoon but it was still uncomfortable, hot enough that y/n was still wearing shorts. Most of the hands were sitting around the table playing cards but she had chosen to sit the game out in favour of reading the book she’d been waiting weeks for. Every once in a while some of the conversation would break through her reading bubble and y/n would laugh at the insults that got thrown around half-heartedly.
After a little while the focus of their conversation moved away from their game of poker to their romance lives, or more accurately their struggles with romance being wranglers. They were complaining about how difficult it was with their work schedules to meet girls. Y/n shook her head slightly at their trivial problems.
“Reckon we’d all be better off if Dutton over there gave a piece of ass up,” a hand commented nonchalantly.
As soon as the words had come out of his mouth, Ryan was out of his chair as was Colby to stop his friend doing something. Colby grabbed his shoulder and arm, keeping him firmly away from the other hand.
“Hit a nerve have I? Thought she was supposed to be off limits to the bunkhouse? Just you getting at or you sharing it with your friend? Care to let us join in on-”
Before he was able to finish his sentence, Lloyd had punched him, “you don’t speak about her like that, ever. Anyone thinks that’s okay and there’s more than just me to answer for. Rip will know about this.”
The tension in the room was broken by the sound of the door slamming shut and they looked up to see that y/n was no longer sitting on the sofa.
Lloyd looked over at Ryan, “I think you best follow her. Now or never, son.”
-/-/-
Ryan exited the bunkhouse and saw her sat on the corral fence in the fading light, cigarette smoke drifting into the sky. He headed across the drive to join her and leant against the fence beside her, letting her finish the cigarette before starting the conversation. When she was done, y/n threw the stub into the sand and watched silently as it smoked on the ground. Her eyes remained fixed on the mountains as if she could pretend he wasn’t there if she didn’t look at him despite the fact his arm was practically touching her thigh.
“You gonna say anything?” She asked.
Ryan sighed, “was kinda waiting for you to start the conversation this time, sweetheart.”
“I don’t know what you expect me to say. I really don’t need you jumping to protect me the moment one of them says something about me. Can’t be a ranch hand and not expect someone to say something about it. I’m a big girl. Plus Rip has it handled, something you haven’t seemed to forget,” y/n added bitterly.
“You can’t seriously expect me to just sit there and let them say that shit about you y/n? No one should say that,” he argued.
Y/n looked at him, “that’s exactly what I expect. You got no right to be that overprotective with the people we fuckin’ work with when you’re just as bad as them sitting staring at me like that.”
“The fuck are you tryna say,” Ryan growled.
She sighed and turned around, getting off the fence to move away from him. Y/n turned away to take another cigarette from her pocket to avoid answering his question. He watched her for a moment as she took a long inhale before turning back to look at him.
“It’s all good and well you tryna fight anyone who has something to say about me but we both know you ain’t gonna do anything about it except just sit there and stare because you’re fuckin afraid! I’m so over it Ryan either make the move I’ve been waiting for you to make for 10 years or stop acting like you get a say in my life,” she ranted at him.
Ryan took her in in front of him, cigarette between her lips and frustration in her eyes before making his decision. Within one step he was in front of her, taking a moment to see if she would stop him before taking the cigarette out of her mouth and putting it out under his boot. Y/n inhaled sharply when he placed his hands gently on her hips, using them to walk her backwards until her back hit the barn wall.
Ryan kept one hand on her hip and moved the other to her cheek, “last chance to change your mind, sweetheart.”
“Been waiting for you since I was 18 don’t make me wait any longer,” she whispered into the space between them.
With no more hesitation he kissed her. Y/n responded by fisting her hands in the front of his shirt. After a moment, he pulled away and rested his forehead against her. Y/n allowed her eyes to fall shut as she reveled in the moment she’d been imagining for so long.
Ryan kissed her again, “do I live up to expectations sweetheart?”
“Better than I could have hoped,” y/n smiled, “we’re gonna have to be careful though. I reckon I can handle Rip if I need to but if dad finds out he won’t hesitate to fire you and I won’t let you leave here.”
He nodded, “I’ll follow your lead. Colby won’t say anything and Lloyd’ll just be happy that he no longer has to deal with me staring at you longingly.”
“Gonna be fun sneaking round. Never got to do it in high school,” she teased.
Ryan laughed, “you’ll be worth it sweetheart.”
#ryan yellowstone#ryan yellowstone x reader#yellowstone#yellowstone imagine#yellowstone tv#dutton ranch#dutton!reader#ian bohen
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Running Like Water
Chapter 13
pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)
fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues
fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon
word count: 4.5k
A/N: Long time coming! I've been so busy getting ready for uni, I recently transferred colleges so my life is a MESS rn. I hope you guys like this one, new chapter hopefully next week. Enjoy my lovies
You were going to be an aunt. That was very true, very insane, but very true. Your best friend, sister in law (to be), and childhood bully had a tiny little thing in her belly. A little friend in there, Tía Andrea.
You weren't having kids for a long time, you think, so this little blessing was going to be spoiled to a T.
Juan, you named the baby, if he was a boy, Julia, if she was a girl. An affinity for J names you've noticed, god help you.
After sulking at the thought of Javier dropping you the second he sees Lorraine, you do see your brother and congratulate him. You cry, because he's going to be a dad, you want to tell him to be the dad you two never got to have, but that was far too heavy for a guy like Frankie. You leave him be, because you were quite the cry baby and that he hated about you.
You groan in your bed, it had been 2 whole nights since Javi left you without a word. His face so full of nothing when he looked back at you for a chin raising nod as a goodbye.
You had the privilege of working at the summer school program from 9-2, the rest of your nights were alone. Spreading jam on toast, sitting criss-crossed dipping your finger in the purple goop and finger feeding your teething sister, who almost always gripped your finger and gnaw. It sort of hurt but tickled, the feeling of no teeth, hungry teething angry baby. Those were your moments of laughter.
You ranted to poor Marisol often, “Do you think Lorraine and Javi will just rekindle that flame? I'm so stressed Sol,” she had a permanent grin on her face so you felt like she never took your problems seriously. She was 11 months old, still you felt judged.
“I didn't want it to end”
Pause, a fucking pause.
“I didn't want it to end that way either. “
Your chest expanded and tightened at the thought. And you did what you have always done best.
Overthink it.
What if it was Houston that tore them, too grown too soon. What if them both standing in a wedding in their hometown, a town where they fell in love in, what if that becomes just too much for them and they realize that they can try the damn thing again. You narrow your eyes at your sister as she slobbers on her fist. Lorraine has always been prettier than you. You couldn't see why Javi wouldn't just crumble at her feet when she comes home.
And she's a Christian, like a good one.
You recall in your sophomore year being teased by a junior named Terrance. He had heard about the rumor (the half true rumor), that Javier hooked up with his best friends sister atop a car. Close, you thought.
Hook up though? Depended on your definition, and it was against the car, not on top. Anyway, he crowded you at your lunch table while your friends stood to get their meals. He claimed you made it up for attention, why would anyone cheat on Lorraine with you? You held it together, brows pulling tight and leaving without a word. Finding the bathroom and breaking down, an experience unique to teenage girls.
Biting back sobs in a bathroom stall.
You stare at your baby sister longer, “Don't ever let a boy talk you down, okay mama?” She babbles and you take an aggressive bite of your toast. Face screwing up realizing you never really liked this snack. And don't let a boy shut you out after he's been intimate with you. You shake your head no, I’ll tell you that one when you're older.
Like a light bulb hovering over your head, you grab your sister and walk out your room. Storming into the living room where your mother and her husband cuddled while watching some movie. The baby babbled at the sight of her daddy, “Going to bed.” You lie and plop your sister in their laps and hurry up the stairs before your mother could question you.
You lock your bedroom door and shed your clothes with thoughts of Javier and his stupid sexy mustache and smile. How pleased he seemed to be getting you off, bastard. You stare at the mirror while you're bare, the hickeys on your soft skin mellowing in the slightest. And despite wanting to go over to Javier's just to talk, you slip on pretty panties. Just in case.
You dig for something less appealing to stick on your body. If you don't tempt he wont have to see what's waiting for him under it all.
Jackpot.
Frankies track pants from high school, Laredo’s awful navy and black colors. Haven't they heard, navy and black is fashion suicide. You slip the loud material on, and then a gray tank top. You don't even bother with sneakers, slippers will do.
You don't even call, you exit through your window and hop off the small shed Mr. Warden recently built for his storage. Passing your own car and walking to Javier's house at 11 pm.
You're huffing 2 minutes in, despite Texas being famously flat, you still had the beastly hill to get to the two paths that led to Javier's home. The short cut that involved walking 3 minutes in the woods and ending at his house in less than ten, or the main road with long haul truckers and an additional 15 minutes to the walk.
“God, please don't let me get mauled by a wolf.” You mutter to yourself before making a left into the barely lit trail, one warm light at the beginning and one off in the distance at the end.
Well you don't die. You do get bit by some sort of bug on your elbow and startled by a squirrel. You just repeat to yourself that this is a good idea, the two of you need to communicate.
You end up at the Peña ranch, completely dark. You start to realize how silly it was for you to show up unannounced in the dead of night but the light from Javier's room has your stomach doing a strange flip. His window closed but the view of him sat at his desk was clear.
Javier heard your call and didn't even startle. He was confused for a moment, looking at his door to his room but ultimately he threw that idea away, you strolling in his house near midnight, no way.
Hearing a crunching of leaves and a shriek, Javier is at his feet and opening his window, his eyes meeting your flushed cheeks and a leaf in your hair.
Javier desperately tries to bite back a laugh at the sight, shirt strap off your shoulders, in track pants and slippers. Eyes wide in embarrassment, he’s just glad you aren’t hurt from whatever caused a piece of greenery to be stuck in your hair, a hand swiping to whack the thing away. Your hair disheveled from the midnight breeze, you were so damn beautiful. Always.
“Will you stop staring and let me in before your dad comes out here with a shotgun?”
Javier blinks, realizing he had just been ogling you for a bit too long, “Right, sorry.”
He grips your hands and lifts you in. You huff with the sketchy landing, effectively kicking your slippers off and dusting off those loud pants, your cheeks are still red, maybe it’s from the fall or the weather or something else. You sit on his bed, wiping your brow free of sweat. “This thing makes me sound like a fucking wind tunnel.” You tug at the oversized pants.
A strange primal heat spread across Javier’s chest seeing you wear pants that obviously weren’t yours but instead some boys.
The heat died when he realized they’re just your brothers. He remembers Frankie wearing them back in high school.
“Wait-how did you get here?” A worry flashing him, you bring your knees to your chest on his bed. He stood against his desk, his arms crossed, leaned forward a bit to be face level with your own. He was just a huge broad man, you had to pounce on him.
About that, you think.
“Walked, what were you reading?” You deflect, Javier shakes his head knowing what you're trying to do, he’s known you for a decade. He knows your often poor decision making skills and inability to lie, so he presses again, ignoring your question.
“I would have picked you up if you called.”
He would have, in a heartbeat. He’d drop anything and you knew that. Through all your insecurity and self depreciation you always understood that. That pissed you off, no wonder you had fallen so hard. He was always there, fixing up whatever mess you made.
He never did really mind, but you going M.I.A on him and then putting yourself in harm's way just to see him. That pissed him off pretty bad. Then again he could also never really be angry with you, not when you're finally here with him after so many years of no contact wondering if you were okay, happy, fed, healthy or whatever he killed himself over worrying about you.
You, and your fucking tiny tank top and big eyes like you've never done wrong in your life. To him you hadn't and if you did, those eyes tell him otherwise. You just shrug with a pretty pout and a pulled brow. That stupid thought of pressing his thumbs to your forehead smoothing out any worry you’ve ever had. “I wanted to go on a walk and ended up here.” Lie.
“It just isn’t safe.” Javi’s crossed arms flex when you narrow your eyes in annoyance.
“Believe it or not Agente, I used to take walks by myself back when you lived with Lorraine 5 months ago.” You bite and ah, thats why you’re here.
He saw the look on your face change when he spewed that awkward phrasing to Genie’s news.
Truthfully Javier didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He gripped the wheel to his truck when he dropped Genie off at her house. His pounding head leaning against the wheel, feeling so dumb. Ashamed.
He didn’t call you because he didn’t know how. Didn’t know if your mom would pick up or if you were actually upset with him. Maybe you felt different after he ate you out, after he bent you over and came on your back. Maybe he was a fucking idiot and moving too fast.
But the name drop gave him confirmation. Javier dropped his eyes to the floor and let out a sigh. “Yeah, about Monday…” His eyes stay trained to the ground, bracing himself for your attitude that he strangely adored. For you to rip him a new one for making you feel bad, for making you feel unsure in whatever this was. Waiting for a justified fuck off, or a firm talk like you gave him when he saw you again for the first time last week.
But instead he hears you sniffle.
Well fuck, you were crying and Javier looked like you had just stabbed him. Striding to you to get on his knees and hold your knees as you sat perched up on his bed crying over something so stupid. But the whole situation gave you deja vu.
A flash of trying to look pretty for him after the two of you kissed and fading at the hollow pit in your belly when you saw him arm in arm with Lorraine just two days after.
Communicate, it’s what you told yourself to do on your way to his house. You lost too many years by being too damn shy to tell him how you felt.
But now that the moment was here you couldn’t help but sob. But to feel like the insecure girl trying to compete with someone in a different ball park. But this time around Javi is repeating your name and attempting to soothe you, his hands moving from your knees to your wrists. Andrea, he presses so tenderly and so concerned.
Andrea, querida, what’s wrong, hey.
And all other soft calls to you. “I-I’m sorry- I don’t know why i’m crying, sometimes when I’m around you—i still feel like i’m sixteen and—" He drops his head, his hands loosening at the thought of all the mistakes he made with you. Your own hands flex and move from the hold completely as he’s at your mercy, head bowed. “I understand if Lorraine coming home changes things—you two were together for a long time and I know she’s probably less complicated or-or emotional—and not someone you need to hide— I know she’s easier to have and keep. I won’t be upset, I know in comparison i’m i don’t know, homely? And never really made for a good-“
“Andrea.” His voice strained but demanding you to stop your tearful rambling. It wasn’t like you to act that way, not anymore. You’ve grown too much to let all your insecurities wash you out, but it seems that maybe you never got over 1980, maybe you couldn’t just have casual sex with Javier Peña.
“What?” Your voice breaks, god. And there’s Javier with that same look of disappointment, in you, in himself or in your doomed situation, you weren’t sure but he looks absolutely torn in half.
His wet lips part like he was prepared to say something but they shut as his eyes search yours.
There’s silence again and his eyes drop and you begin to fear that maybe he agreed with all that you said. Maybe he knew that when his ex came home he’d be ready to fix that, maybe he knew Lorraine was a simpler, prettier girl. So your heart breaks further every second that passes. Every second he doesn’t look at you.
“Be with me.”
Your mouth parts at the softness in his voice, and what was left of your heart swelling in your chest. Tears fell harder in confusion and praying this wasn’t just another spec of false hope, hoping it wasn’t another kiss by his car or another if you tell me to stay.
You whisper, “What?”
His own eyes, glossy. “I don’t want anyone else, I don’t want you with anyone else. Nothing will change that. I don’t care if this is difficult, I don’t care if you think you’re hard to be with. I’m just asking you to be with me Andrea.”
You frown and shut your eyes tightly. You want him to repeat it again, over and over until you two wither away together.
Maybe he also knew that you two could never just be casual.
Javier and Andrea casually hooking up, who were you kidding?
“Okay-"
He doesn’t let you finish whatever came next, you don’t even know what else you were going to say because his lips were crushing your own. His hand holding the back of your head as he presses you close. Tying your souls in his own way, kissing and holding you.
Finally. Oh my god…
You arch your back into him, he groans against you when he realizes his uncomfortable position. His body hunched over in order to make out with you while you sat on the edge of his bed.
“Fuck it.” He mumbles before grabbing your ass and lifting you up. Your legs wrap against him, holding to him like a koala. His hands generously squeezing at your behind in the track pants. Your nails raking in his pretty brown hair, his mustache scraping your lips raw and you love it.
Laying you on his bed and kissing you there would be easy, but Javier obviously could care less about easy, I mean he just asked his best friends sister to be his for good. So he held you up, licking into your mouth with your legs wrapped around his stomach. Moaning when your core rubbed against his stomach.
“Am I too heavy?”
Javi scoffed against your lips, “shut the fuck up.”
He takes a few steps back and bumps into his desk. The image of you bent over it, taking him makes his pants tighten. He turns to sit you on it, shoving the mail from work on the floor, the thing you had been so interested in just 10 minutes ago.
He steps back slightly, your hands still attached to him with your swollen lips and desperation for more. You looking so pretty perched up on his desk. He had to have you every day, what was he going to do when he leaves, what was he going to do?
No time for that, he grabs your face again and continues kissing you, making up for all those years you spent wanting him. All the years he spent hiding how bad he wanted you.
Without warning Javier hooks his left hand in the front of your thin top and pulls it down. Your breasts spilling out, and he looks like he’s ready to devour you. His mouth immediately attaching to your left breast eliciting a high pitched moan from you. His wet lips suctioning on such a sensitive and untouched part of your body. His right hand moving to your unattended one. Kneading and gripping while his tongue flicked and swirled.
Your hair falls in your face as your heavy head falls at the pleasure. Still so wet, you move your hips to hopefully get some release, “Javi, please-“
His lips part from your breast, his mouth wet and open as he looks up to you, waiting for your request. But you’re so turned on by the circumstance, by him asking you to be his, by the way his hair is falling above his brow and by your breasts spilling out of your tank top “What do you need baby?”
“I want to come.”
His lips quirk at your bluntness. He wastes no time and begins pulling off your pants—or your brother pants. Your chest heaves when he stands straight to remove you from the desk and you get a glimpse of his hardness. Heavy in the oh so causal sleep pants that made your head spin
“I want you to come.” You add, he pauses his brows raising a bit. “We don’t have to take off our clothes, i’m not ready yet but we can-“ You cut yourself off feeling awfully shy and juvenile for the suggestion but his eyes darken at your bashfulness. You were ready to fuck him on Monday when you were clouded by horniness and the uncertainty of if it was your last time but now he wants to you to be his. You never need to rush.
He tilts his head slightly and grabs the bottom of your tank, freeing you from it. Leaving you bare breast and in your small little underwear, placed on his desk. His pretty girl, his, finally his.
“What baby? You wanna dry hump me? Like a couple of fucking teenagers?”
Your cheeks heat quickly, embarrassed about your stupid horny ask, feeling frozen in shame until Javi smiles again. Picking you up for what feels like a millionth time and sitting you in his lap at his desk chair. Straddling him, you feel the weight of him, so close to him.
You love kissing him, you never want to stop and you don’t, your lips working on his. Dragging to his cheek leaving wet kisses from jaw to neck. The perfect position to hear his own pretty breaths.
In between pants he gets a hold on your waist lifting you slightly. He gives himself space to move his erection, move it to help you feel him better. Lowering you, your lips suck and nip at his neck leaving a careless mark. A whine leaves your parted lips at the contact and his lips quirk in a sweet smile.
But the smile fades into an eyebrow screwing groan when you move on him. He repeats your name in worship. His forehead dropping to your shoulder while you use his body. So little clothing for you and so much for him. Yet he’s mumbling in your ear like he’s already on the verge of finishing.
Feeling the underside of him rub against the thin cotton throws you for a loop and you can’t seem to care how feral you have to look getting yourself off on Javi like this. His head turns to place his lips on the space below your ear.
“Don’t leave, let me keep you here forever.” He urges and your core is pulsing just from his words. “When you let me fuck you—fuck—i’ll make sure you’ll never need anyone else querida.”
“Oh god-“ You moan, your head dropping feeling closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you. The spaced out thrusts causing you to release a high pitched squeak.
Javier’s hand moving to the back of your head, forcing it to his neck to keep you muffled.
“Hijo?”
Your eyes widen and you squeeze Javi tighter. You stay frozen at the sound of Don Chucho calling outside of Javier’s room.
Javi doesn't let up, you hold a muffled whine in his neck as he continues to buck his hips into you. “Si papi-uh dad yeah?”
“Todo bien?”
Javier, still moving below you, slips his hand between you, his fingers dragging along your clothed cunt, helping speed up your process. You're so close but if you come now, there's no doubt his father will hear.
“I’m good, uh-working on some DEA stuff.”
You would laugh if the pad of his thumb wasn't circling your most sensitive part of your body.
“Alright hijo, try to sleep we have to be at Mrs. Glorias home tomorrow at 12. You're coming right?”
“Uh-yeah-I’m coming” His eyes grow large and he finally stills from under you, “I mean–yes I am coming…tomorrow.”
You stifle a laugh in his shoulder and he pinches your ass.
“Um, alright, goodnight.” His dad calls, the sound of footsteps and a door slamming ends that.
And you laugh into him forreal, but his fingers returning to your panties shut you up. “You're coming Javi?” you tease.
“Shut up-” He bucks harder and you’re close, your eyes going blank.
You move your lips to his neck again, “Papi huh?”
And then he breaks, “Fuck-Andrea”. Coming in his pants in deep grunts and grips at your ass. Coming down from his own high he gets frustrated, his fingers dipping into your panties without warning. His deft fingers collect all the moisture he created and drag to your clit.
You come in a white flash, falling off the edge. You repeat his name in whiny cries. His hands hurrying to hold you up against his while you collapse into him. Heart racing, the orgasm comes in rippling. Javier holds you, sweat and all. Kissing the top of your head, whispering sweet words of You’re so good, feel so good baby. He keeps you like this for what feels like an eternity, feeling boneless and light when he stands.
He lays you on his bed like a doll. You lay still coming down, chest rising and falling. Still pulsing at the thought of how dirty and depraved the whole thing was. So wrapped in the high and replaying all the shit you’ve always wanted to hear, you flinch when he climbs in bed with a new pair of pants.
“You’re bad.” He groans when he settles into the bed with a creak.
You screw your brows together and turn to him, “Yea says the guy still trying to jump my bones while his dad was outside the room you psycho!” You whisper yell and he laughs that same deep sweet laugh you love.
Javi brings you in closer to him, kissing you a quick chaste one. Blushing at the simpleness of it all. Cuddling in bed with Javier Peña and kissing him for fun, what is my life? “Mmm, take off your panties.”
You scoff.
“Not like that–I’m tapped out, unless you want to.”
“As much as I would love to have you between my legs, I am also tired.” You reach down and slip the soaked thing off, leaning over placing them on his nightstand. He pulls up the comforter over you.
Javier slips his arm over your stomach, thumbing your hip in light circles. “You can put them in my drawer, they're mine now.”
“You're a pervert.” You laugh, pinching his wrist.
“Mmm, when it comes to you? Yeah a bit.”
Red as a cherry you bury your face in his chest, hiding yourself.
Silence passes for a few minutes, just the two of you together. The reality sets in, the hiding begins. But so does being with him, so does working this out so does communicating. “I should probably leave, don't want your dad to catch me.” You whisper and he grumbles an annoyed sound from his chest.
“Dont care, stay here. I’ll sneak you out early in the morning.” He grips you tighter and you smile feeling satisfied. “Tell me about Miami.”
You frown, “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Tell me about your roommates, classes. I never got to go to college, tell me.”
Kissing his chest again, “You say it like you’re some dropout, you’re like a secret fucking agent.” He groans again, hatong when you talk him up, he gets shy like you. You spare him. “My roommate is cool, party girl. Her name is Delilah, from Arkansas. She was like a real southern-belle, big curly hair and blue eyes. She’s been begging for me to visit since I graduated early. We got along really well but she was annoyed with me often. I never partied.”
Javier’s chest rises, “Why? You used to party a lot in high school, remember when I had to get you from Juniors house at like 2-”
“Oh god don’t remind me I was a mess, case and point. Didn’t have a hot strong brother's best friend to pick up said pieces.”
“Oh shut the fuck up.”
The two of you laugh into each other, it's simple and perfect.
“Besides that, it was an unfulfilling experience but I teach in the fall so it worked out I guess.”
“Ms. Diaz, sexiest teacher to ever step foot in Laredo for sure. If you were my teacher, whew.”
“You need to relax.” You mumble, feeling sleepier in his arms. “What were you reading by the way?”
Javier stirs and lets out another annoyed groan, gripping you tighter. “Some stupid fucking retreat for my office. In New Orleans in June, it's for all the people who are going to Columbia in fall. Stupid shit but its all expenses paid at the Roosevelt.”
Your brows raise, “Fancy, you gonna be flirting up the staff. Chest hair out with Getting your game back on before Columbia.” He scoffs and brings his hand down hard on your behind, eliciting a screech from you. “You’re gonna leave a mark pendejo.”
“Well you have a smart mouth, would rather see you half naked by the pool. I’ll sock anyone who looks at you though,” You shove him, the out of reach thought, fantasy, of maybe going away with him flashes in your eyes. Before you could dwell, he reached down to kiss you again. He mumbles against your lips. “You gave me a hickey so we’re even.”
Your eyes flutter shut, dosing off in the warmth of Javi. In the warmth of someone who’s yours.
Half asleep you mumble, “Why’d you come the second I said the word papi?”
He scoffs tiredly and kisses your head again.
“Shut up.”
#javier peña#javier peña x ofc#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier peña smut#ao3#fanfic#javier peña narcos#javier pena x reader
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I love you, but you love him, and he loves me
A/N: Sometimes I forget that the things that I say have a tendency to age like milk... apologies for the lack of updates and fics. I've been drowning in schoolwork since the semester started and I haven't had much of a chance to work on an extended fic like Our Time. The current plan is to have this post up for February, put up a Johanna fic in April/May, and then finish up Our Time over the summer (hopefully). Anyways, here's some Clove fluff that's a week late for Valentine's Day! :D
oh, thanks for 100 followers! I am so happy that people enjoy my content without a regular schedule. thank you so so much again!
TW: underage drinking/smoking, brief mention of weed, small fighting scene, reader is put into uncomfortable romantic situation
Pairing: Clove x GN! Reader (Rivals to Lovers in 2x speed)
Summary: You love Clove. She likes Cato. Cato likes you. Your life is a comedic love triangle until your best friend's drunken disaster causes you to connect with Clove and discover something new about her.
“On your left.”
Catelyn gives you a quick warning before flipping you on the back and slamming you against the mat. You squirm against her grip for a moment before spotting a weakness in her legs.
An opening.
You grab her leg and pull her to the ground before taking her hands and pinning them to the ground.
“Don’t count me out yet.” You sneer as she scoffs.
“Fucker.” She mumbles as a buzzer goes off in the distance.
You immediately jump off of her and offer a hand up, which Catelyn begrudgingly takes.
“Trying to impress your girl?” She raises an eyebrow before you shove her aside.
Clove’s staring at the two of you, well, just you since Catelyn’s stepped off the mat to grab a drink of water. Her eyes immediately drift off to look elsewhere as you let out a sigh.
You wish she’d look at you longer, as much as she looked at Cato.
It’s funny, in an ironic way.
You love her.
She loves him.
And he’s paused his sparring to walk over to you.
Probably to ask you on a date or to go drinking or to go do something with romantic undertones that you don’t want to do.
So he loves you.
Catelyn had egged the two of you on before realizing that you wanted nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You didn’t want to refuse Cato’s invitations - he was the choice for a Hunger Games tribute in the near future, and that’d piss off more people than your trickiness could outmaneuver.
Perhaps running through a nearby window would be the best way to avoid him?
…And he’s right in front of you.
You glance behind him, only to see Clove's jaw tighten.
Fuck.
~
An invite.
“That's all he wanted?” Catelyn teases as you make your way to the place where Cato always invited you after sparring practice.
It wasn't like the two of you were going to be alone. It was a tradition for the top contenders for this year's Hunger Games to engage in a few… adult activities before the Reaping occurred. This way, the two tributes shipped off could get to enjoy a little bit of adulthood before heading to the Capital.
It wasn't anything too awful, just some cheap booze and a few blunts to pass around. Any people that passed you all by would simply look the other way - who'd want to risk being harassed by a group of teenagers?
You didn't usually partake beyond a few sips from some cheap bottle of booze - someone needed to carry Catelyn home, after all.
When the two of you slip behind a pair of buildings, a few boys around Cato's age wave you over.
“Let's get this over with.” You grumble, hoping to spend this evening without uncomfortably resting in Cato's arms.
~
You failed.
Horrendously.
When you arrived, Cato threw an arm around you and hasn't let you go since. You're tempted to drink more so you don't remember what he's said or done, but seeing your friend nearly face plant into a campfire has you rethinking that decision.
As if matters couldn't get any worse, Clove arrived just in time to see Cato place a kiss on your cheek. She huffs before glaring at the two of you from a fair distance away.
This time, you notice, her glare isn't directed at you.
She's glaring at him.
~
Catelyn's barely able to stumble forward as you throw an arm around your shoulder. She excitedly points at a lamppost and tries to point at it, but she ends up falling out of your grasp and onto the barren road.
“Catelyn, c’mon,” You try to coax your friend from the ground, but she shakes her head, “We've got to get home before sunrise.”
“Nu-uh!” She slurs, face-down in the pavement.
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose until you hear footsteps come from behind you.
“Need some help?”
In all of her brazen glory, your knight-in-shining-armor (a black leather jacket, a plain t-shirt, and blue jeans), Clove, offers to help.
“If you don't mind, I know you might be busy with someone else.” You quietly say as she shakes her head.
“I wanted to take a walk to clear my head, away from everyone else.” She grabs Catelyn from the ground, who whines like a petulant child, before you hoist one of Catelyn’s arms over your shoulder.
Clove does the same, and the three of you walk in silence until a biting question slips off her tongue.
“Do you like Cato?”
“Absolutely not.” The answer leaves your lips before you can refine the words with a bit more thought. “We're friends, sure, but I don't feel anything for him.”
Relief escapes her lips as she takes a deep breath out, then in. She smiles, as do you in return.
“Good, good. I was worried that you were into him.”
“Why?” You stop, which causes Clove to stop.
“I thought- I thought I liked him, but I saw him kissing you and… I didn't like how it made me feel.” She blushes at her honesty as you bite your lip.
“If you like him, Clove, you can have him. I certainly don't want him.”
She harshly laughs before turning to look at you.
“Don't you get it? All of those times that I saw you two together, I thought I was jealous of you. Today, after seeing him draped over you, I realized that I'm jealous of him.”
Her confession leaves you breathless as you pause to consider her words.
She… likes me.
“Clove, I…” It's your turn to get nervous as you try to meet Clove’s unwavering gaze. “I really, really like you too.”
Catelyn, in a moment of drunken clarity, lifts her head up to look at the both of you before loudly sighing.
“Just kiss already, you idiots!” She lets go of the both of you to (not-so) gracefully fall on the ground as your arm finds its way around her.
You lean in to kiss her, before pausing.
“Is this okay?” You mumble, centimeters away from her lips.
A mischievous smile slips onto her face as she answers by kissing you back.
You wouldn't have many nights like this again, but this night would always be special to you.
#fanfic#the hunger games#the hunger games fanfic#the hunger games fluff#the hunger games x reader#x reader#clove kentwell fluff#clove kentwell fanfic#clove kentwell x reader#clove kentwell
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How do you feel about Candy as a Character vs. The character you made? I’m honestly just interested in the character you have for Candy and her relationship with Nikki
HI THANK YOU FOR THE ASK, V GOOD ASK I'M HAPPY TO AWNSER
My version of Candy isn't actually supposed to contradict what we know of her already, more so really really build-off-from and completely take and run with what little we were given about her.
I'm fine with anyone's HCs I believe everyone should have fun and it doesn't have to match cannon! but in the same note if we're talkin' character analysis and not HCs they often don't even target what she did wrong and just go "whore." And. Uh. Yeah never been a fan of that.. Not a fan of how she was supposed to be a "golddigger joke" or something in the show either but ehh.
She's not a bad mother because she was on her phone or because she wears tank tops or because she has sex or anything else I've heard while being in this fandom dear GOD SKSKNDJN but this post will literally be 3x longer if I get into my takes on that so it's a different post if y'all want it one day.
Candy didn't remember something important, something traumatizing for Nikki and that's where her flaws lay. Their communication is lackluster. I think it makes her a flawed parent and a flawed person but it doesn't mean "she's scum of the earth condemn this woman to hell immediately," she still loves Nikki and shows she does in the same episode she tells her not to karate chop strangers and get them sued so she doesn't just let her do whatever. She refers to her as "my angel" and Nikki looks up at her when everyone is eating with this smile and they LOVE each other and raaahhh I love the sillies so much.... Cryinhng..
I've mentioned in my post about Neil's mother how I believe that the egg episode they're mirroring their own parents and Nikki being so worried about fucking up her egg and not knowing what to do and being unprepared and scared. I HC Candy had Nikki when she was like 20-21 and recently kicked out by her own mother and she had no support or knowledge of what to do or how to care for a baby and it was SO much trial and error but it bleeds into my HC about Nikki where she has all these big thoughts and emotions but gets regarded as simple minded by her peers because she can't find a way to express them verbally and comes off simple minded or stupid. This doesn't stop her from feeling complicated things it just stops her from being understood.
((literally the whole Christmas episode is her going "I love this thing so dang much!!! I can't tell you why though. I'll know it when I see it.?))
So when you have a unprepared parent who's working by trial and error and you can't verbalize to them the errors or make sense of your feelings that's where issues come in!!
Minor New episode spoilers: Nikki can't write eligibly when she writes letters to her mother. I think is some great potential to be visual storytelling about this if I ever could make a fic. Her handwriting is bad. She gets excited and doodles and scribbles. You can't make out what she's saying. Maybe her mother never even got to know about what happened in the flower scouts because she said it over letter.
Candy still sent her there and lied about it being adventure camp and I hc it was done not because she wants to force feminity on Nikki or anything (if that's the case Nikki would be dead like literally 💀 she needs dirt to live) but because she wanted her to make friends and since she had such a good time as some version of a scout herself she thought Nikki would too. She loves Nikki and supports her wolf-kinning and playing in the mud but of course is concerned she's estranging herself from other people by barking and biting them and sending her out into the woods she would've just continued to ignore people in favor of animals. Candy had a "it'll be good for her!" Type rationalization about lying.
Then next summer she wanted to make her happy and followed through with going to adventure camp for realsies and was scatterbrained about it and misremembered the previous year's sign up for that one.
A misunderstanding didn't hurt Nikki any less. You can have all the good intentions in the world and still screw up and accidentally hurt somebody you care about.
Personally I love depicting Candy as being really really affectionate with Nikki and she calls her not only "my angel" but variations of "baby/sweetie/hunny" and the biggest nickname she has for her is probably "sunshine"
Candy also can't cook lol she tries but it's the only thing in the world Nikki won't eat is her mom's cooking so Candy buys them TV dinners and premade stuff alot. They have "barbeque nights" where Candy brings home ribs and they watch TV together and live in this lil trailer home near a forest. (In the first trailer for camp camp we see Nikki using a slingshot on cans with flowers painted on them and I'm like yeah her back yard just goes directly into the woods I know it does)
I actually HC Candy's off and off boyfriend/husband Andrew is the one who'd force gender roles on Nikki if at all. Guy who jokes about "hookers and blow" ((Infront of his 9-10yo daughter)) with his friends yk that guy.
Please take these walls of text I've sent to a friend about Candy 🙏 also that's meant to say spots not sports 😔
Also I wanna mention Candy isn't even her actual name she got it during her time in the adult film industry (🌽) and it's actually Caroline. She doesn't really introduce herself as that anymore. Sex work in general is often an abusive industry and highly exploitive so she's got some baggage from her time there and falls in and out of being a stripper aswell and struggles to hold down a job that can support her and her daughter and it's part of multiple reasons why she keeps going back to her ex husband bc he's well-off. ((Cannonicaly bought her a car and lawyers))
She didn't even know for sure if Andrew was the father, some AUs I have he turned out to be the father in some he didn't, but she chose to tell him because he could give her daughter the best chance in life and support her education and allthat.
#oh my goodness this is gonna be a huge post huh#I'm so sorry to my low attention span followers/gen#fandom headcanons#head canon#character headcanons#camp camp hcs#nikki cc#cc nikki#candy camp camp#should i use the main fandom tag for this I'm actually embarrassed i wrote so much about a one off character#fuck it we ball#camp camp#camp Campbell
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To Build A Home (Part Ten: Final)
Final: How to build a home
Pairing: Ot7 x 9 tailed fox Hybrid! Reader
Fox Hybrid! Jin, Human! Namjoon, Human! Yoongi, Wolf Hybrid! Hoseok, Cat Hybrid! Jimin, Wolf Hybrid! Taehyung, Fox Hybrid! Jungkook
Genre: Hybrid AU || Fluff || Angst || Smut || Strangers to lovers AU || Best friends to lovers AU
Summary: You figure out the world's little secret.
Word count: 16.7k (i’m so sorry)
Tags/ warnings: fluff, minimal angst, comfort/ healing, lots and lots of people in love, smut (three scenes) which include: unprotected sex, she's on birth-control which isn't mentioned (safe sex is cool-remember that), creampies, spit used for various things, handjobs, oral (f. receiving), fingering, implied rimming, manhandling, thigh fucking, cum play, double penetration, belly bulge, knotting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, dom/sub undertones, spanking, doggy, squirting, dick riding, pre-negotiated safe-words/ boundaries, mild breeding kink, slight dumbification/ slight degradation, cum eating kinda i guess.
Notes: i can't believe i said soft smut in the last chapter... this is also my first time writing anything like this so feedback is welcome! part of one end scene references something in the first drabble i wrote about the m/c and jin, i don't think its necessary to read it but for context it may help.
i also have an extra scene that i'll post that i had to cut out of this chapter because it was starting to get long, called: 'the old man and his wife' which just needs to be edited.
and finally: i want to to thank everyone that's kept up with this fic, i've enjoyed watching familiar usernames popup in my notifications and to everyone that's sent in an ask or commented telling me how much they've enjoyed the series or specific scenes they liked, i sincerely hope you live the best life. i'll continue to work hard on my other works and hope you can all enjoy them just as much as you've liked TBAH!! and my inbox is open to all of you lovelies if you ever just want to chat or requests or anything really!! I hope you're all healthy and happy :D
my full masterlist
this series' masterlist
<3
extra scene : the old man and his wife
+++
“Can’t sleep?” Jimin whispers into the silence of his bedroom.
You lightly shake your head, wary that if you moved too much, you’d wake up Taehyung who was clinging to your tails like a lifeline. And you can only wonder how Jimin knew you were still awake. You wanted to ask him the same question, but the words felt like tacky treacle clinging to your tongue.
It had been two weeks since you’d gotten home, the dull throb of what used to be your tail was no longer there. But sometimes when you were left alone, or like now—in the silence of the night with nothing but your friends’ soft breathing as your company, you could still feel it ache. In your mind you felt like you were being dramatic, that you could feel the lost weight of one of your tails. No one treated you any differently, if anything everyone became a tiny bit clingier, scared that you’d vanish if they ever let you go; a little frantic when you were out of their sights for an extended period of time.
Jimin hums, and you hear him shuffle before his hand softly brushes your hair from your eyes. You close them, hybrid ears twitching as his fingers skim the base where they moulded into your scalp.
You’d like to believe that you were okay, that you weren’t still scared and constantly on edge even in the safety of your own home. You hadn’t stepped outside since you’d gotten back from the hospital, even sitting in the garden was a quick affair, where you’d ask Taehyung to at least sit in the summer house with you. (Which he would always accept, his brows furrowing in worry). You’d seen an article written about the incident online by one of the activists that had helped that day, Hyerin had called asking if you had read it and if you were okay. Worried that you didn’t want your face plastered on an article that had been read by thousands at that point; Jungkook would tell you how the numbers would continue to climb each time he refreshed the page.
You’d told her they didn’t have to take it down; you hadn’t read it and you never planned to scroll past the title and first picture, but if it was informative and showed people the inhumane way hybrids were treated then you didn’t mind if it was publicised. You supposed the more aware people were, the better, even if it meant shedding layers of protection, vulnerable before the eyes of what you can only assume to be hundreds of thousands of faceless people sat on the other side of a screen.
A week after you got home, you’d asked Namjoon and Yoongi to move in with the rest of you. They spent most of their time here anyways, and instead of coming to visit after work and driving home gone midnight they might as well move in. You’d assured them they shouldn’t pressure themselves to make such a big decision and they had no obligation to move in with you, but they were both overjoyed. (You thought you saw a tear or two in Yoongi’s eyes)
They’d both taken a few weeks off work, ready to move their stuff into your home. And slowly everyone had started to fall into a routine over the last few days.
Like any other day, yesterday had started off like the rest; that was until you had skipped upstairs to call Yoongi for lunch.
He had been cleaning his bathroom, and the smell of bleach had flung you into a full-blown panic attack. The producer had been stunned; never having seen you break down so quickly. He worried you would pass out with how quick you were breathing, your chocked sobs flinging him into action. When he asked later, sat at the foot of your bed as you lay there exhausted, you’d told him you didn’t remember it happening. He asked if you remembered Jin coming up and helping and you just shook your head. And then he asked if you remember the other few times you’d panicked over the last week and you’d just looked at him, confused. Because you couldn’t remember.
Jin had asked you last night if you really didn’t remember the evenings where he would startle awake because you’d thrown up or cried until you passed out. He assured you it was nothing to be embarrassed about, that you could tell him anything, but you were genuinely confused because you had no recollection of any of those things happening. The only semblance of those events happening were your drained body and sore throat the coming mornings.
You’d like to think you were strong, that such a common cause of pain—one that so many of your own people faced, wouldn’t affect you as badly as it has. You like to think that because you knew what to expect in those few days that everything would be fine. And you hated to admit that it wasn’t.
You didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want the pain of those few days to drag on because you were exhausted. Even when sleeping your mind never seemed to fully shut down, you always wondered why even with 10 hours of sleep you were still exhausted in the morning. Dragging your feet out of bed, only to crash on the couch beside Yoongi and sleep the rest of the morning away.
Taehyung had found you the next evening, rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Silently watching as you swallowed a sleeping pill. It had gotten to the point you would do anything just for a decent night’s sleep, just a few hours where you dreamt of nothing, dead to the world; even if that meant relying on tiny little pills in daunting little bottles that stood out like a sore thumb in the bathroom cabinet beside the pink first aid kit and dull boxes of painkillers.
You’d frozen upon seeing him, palms starting to sweat like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Technically you hadn’t, but it was the vulnerability of the situation that seemed to put you on edge. A fleeting moment of weakness from you when you acted like your life was peachy, like you were okay. And you could only pray that he wouldn’t ask where you’d gotten the small pills from, unsure Hyerin would be able to ward off the wolf if he got mad.
Taehyung doesn’t say anything, simply outstretching his hand for you to take. You wipe your sweaty palms on your shirt, heartbeat slowly quietening in your ears as you realise, he wasn’t mad, nor did he seem disappointed.
He doesn’t say anything to Jungkook who lazily scrolls through his phone on Taehyung’s bed, simply motioning for you to lay down next to the fox.
You flop back onto the bed, eyes trained on the ceiling, moments away from the sleeping pills kicking in. You start to feel drowsy, body finally taking a well-deserved, and well-needed rest.
Jungkook looks over at Taehyung with a raised brow, the wolf waving him off as he flicks the light on in the bathroom.
They’d all noticed your lack of energy, all noticed how you would try to delay bedtime. Claiming to be on a good page in a book, or you wanted to watch the sequel to a movie they knew you found boring. They’d noticed your hybrid ears that would flicker from the smallest sound, how you’d brush them off when they asked if you were okay, blaming your animal instincts. None of them were insulted that you seemed to think they were oblivious to what you were trying to do, if anything disappointed in themselves; feeling as though maybe you didn’t trust them enough to confide in them during such a hard time.
Jungkook only watches as you curl up by his side, tongue peeking through his lips to wet them as the tap runs in the bathroom; Taehyung brushing his teeth. He asks the grey wolf what had happened, sensing the elder’s mood was worse than it had been before he’d left the room to go and get you.
What was meant to be a fun movie night was suddenly cut short with you dozing off to sleep minutes after your head hit the pillow and Taehyung occasionally frowning at you as you clung to Jungkook’s side.
+++
Six months after the incident you’d realised healing wasn’t a fast process. It was gruelling, and hard and so extremely frustrating.
Healing was never going to be an overnight process; you were never going to wake up days after coming home and feel… normal. And that frustrated you, because why couldn’t you just move on from what had happened over those few days? You felt as though you were walking up a never-ending staircase, the door to freedom on the tips of your fingers, but the climb to the top seemed to stretch on the further you went.
Reflecting on your life had always seemed somewhat awkward; taking time out of your day to just think about your life and how you were living it, but over recent months you found yourself looking back on the past, picking apart the moments of genuine happiness; whittling down events until you could pin-point exactly where everything had started to go wrong.
Maybe your healing should have started years ago when your owner died, instead you chose to blow out the flame of anguish and pretend you weren’t hurting inside. Maybe the event from months ago had finally pushed you over the edge, the final push you needed to start new; start on an empty slate and rebuild your life, one where you’re happier.
And maybe healing was the foundation of this. The first few steppingstones to rebuilding your happiness.
However, it was frustrating. How hard trying to heal yourself was; it felt as though you’d progress miles only to be flung back to the start of the race, the finish line so far away. And you were exhausted, utterly exhausted of being so on edge, always looking over your shoulder when you’d go out, and cowering behind someone in the kitchen when the doorbell would trill throughout the house.
You’d become so reliant on sleeping pills and anxiety-meds you felt like your own life was crumbling before your own eyes. Crumbling between your family’s fingers, like sand as they tried over and over to help you process your own fickle emotions.
Reflecting on your life had become an easy pastime, your memories playing like an awfully scripted movie behind your eyelids as you lay in bed, wishing you could turn back time to when everything was okay. When you were naïve, uncaring of the real world and all its problems because you had Jin by your side and your owner keeping the two of you safe. Some may argue that’s ignorance, and you wouldn’t deny it because that’s exactly what it was. And no matter how overused the term ‘ignorance is bliss’ may be used, it was true. You were happiest when you were an ignorant child that had no care or knowledge of the world and its big problems.
And by no means did you want to become an ignorant human being; people must grow up at some point and you are no longer the naïve little person you once were. You can be well versed in the world while still being happy. You can try to create change while still being happy. Finding happiness as an adult is always going to be different than when you are small, you can still be responsible and happy; so, it felt a little desolate comparing the past of your happiness to looking at the future and building up that same bubbly feeling.
You’d started to wonder how much would change if you and Jin had gone against your master’s wishes and helped more around the house when he was clearly too ill to work. You wondered if you saved up your monthly allowance and paid for the best medical care your city offered, would he still be alive? Would you and Jin live your lives as a three, the perfect little family you’d always dreamt of as a child. Fantasising about having what seemed so far out of reach, only for the world to bless you, handing Seokjin and your owner on a silver platter. Only for the universe to drag one of them away from you too soon.
If your owner lived you probably wouldn’t have met Taehyung, or Jungkook. You would have never stumbled across Namjoon on that rainy afternoon, and you would have never known Yoongi existed; maybe finding him online, liking the songs he produced but that was as far as your knowledge of him would be. If you hadn’t met Taehyung, Hoseok would have been another pitiful case that worked hard to earn their stay in the restaurant. And maybe Jimin wouldn’t have stumbled into your garden, you doubted he would have stolen from you with a human in the house.
You felt guilty, imagining a life without the people you’ve come to love so much. Each day the 8 of you learning new things about each other. Falling deeper and deeper into the bliss of love and adoration for one another.
You’d seen the way Hoseok would linger by Yoongi’s side. The older producer uncaring as Hoseok clung onto him while cooking. How Jungkook and Taehyung had stopped bickering constantly, hands on thighs, never keeping them to themselves, or prolonged gazing across the room that always ended up with them sneaking off into a bedroom when they thought no one was looking. Always in each other’s little bubble.
And if you caught Jin and Namjoon kissing in the kitchen late one evening, you didn’t say anything until said fox came to bed with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips that stretched into the biggest smile when he gushed about how perfect of a man Namjoon was.
You felt guilty when you imagined a life without the others. You didn’t know what sort of relationship you all had; but you never thought to ask. A mutual understanding that you were all in a way—exclusive.
You suppose you and Jin had been skipping around labels for years, simply laughing when your owner would ask what you were to each other. Siblings wasn’t right, siblings didn’t get handsy, didn’t kiss with so much fervour with bare skin and wandering fingers in places that siblings shouldn’t touch. But neither of you had exactly been dating, merely living under the same roof, growing up by each other’s side. Neither of you ever working up the courage to ask the question that could make or break your relationship.
+++
12 months after the incident you feel as though your life was slowly getting back on track.
Naturally you didn’t always feel like you had progressed from that day, it was easy for unwanted thoughts to weave into a person’s mind and plague their emotions; but you had 7 boyfriends to help you when bad days felt like a little too much.
Yep. Boyfriends.
Plural.
Because it seemed everyone in your household had enough love to go around.
Taehyung had gotten sick of tiptoeing around everyone, sick of having to drag you into a room for a long kiss, out of the way of possible prying eyes or walking in on Hoseok and Yoongi rutting against each other like pre-teens in the laundry room.
So, he sat everyone in the living room one night and confessed his feelings. From that point everyone’s own emotions were spilled like dominoes; and it wasn’t all that surprising when the feelings seemed to be mutual. Happily whispered confessions with rosy, red cheeks and dopey smiles on all of your faces. That weird high of being confessed to by the person you really like fizzling through all of you, buzzing off the knowledge that you were just as loved as you had love to give.
From that point it was a slow process of being more openly affectionate. The unspoken rule—that just because you weren’t dating meant being openly affectionate was a little weird—that shrouded the house still ever-present even months after your confessions. But once everyone had gotten over the initial unease of starting a relationship, with multiple people; something new for all of you—life seemed a lot more fun to live.
Easy kisses shared between sips of sweet hot chocolate, tongues tangled during movies, and hands held on top of the table during dinner. It hadn’t taken you very long to learn of everyone’s love languages; noticing how from the very moment they had stepped into your home; small acts of love had been shared between all of you.
Having known Jin the longest, you knew his love language was buying gifts. And it warmed your heart whenever he would come home with a small gift bag, explaining he couldn’t just leave the small trinket that reminded him so much of his little loves; and it would sit proudly in the living room on display. A reminder that Jin loved each of you more than any words would ever be able to explain.
Unsurprisingly, Yoongi’s love language was quality time. With work being demanding, he’d started to value his time with each of you, individually or as a group. Although embarrassing, he felt as though spending time with all of you was healing, something so soothing and joyful having you all sat close to him. He liked helping Jin and Jimin in the kitchen, even after a long day in the studio, he’d let Namjoon drag him on long bike rides of an evening, and he was more than happy to brush yours, Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s tails while the three of you played video games in the living room.
You’d noticed how the lyrics he wrote had also started to merge into something sweeter, the usual harsh lyrics that stained the pages of his notebook feeling a lot lighter and airier these days. Far from cliché love songs that you heard on the radio each morning, raw emotion that only Min Yoongi could make sound so poetic and pretty, and maybe he didn’t realise himself that as he would play you a song he’d been working on recently, backtracking to demos he’d kept hidden in files on his computer; the more recent songs had small parts of your family weaved into each song.
Instrumentals that had similar aspects to the songs Taehyung adored, lyrics that were vague enough that it wasn’t obvious the song was being written for a specific person—or people in this case. But you spent so much time with you new family that you could point out the small quirks Yoongi mentions in a few of the recent tracks, like how Namjoon loved the outdoors, how Jimin could come off as defensive but was just a small ball of fluff in reality, how Jungkook was hard headed but ever so passionate about what he did—a work ethic that many were jealous of—how Hoseok’s smile could light up the whole room (arguably cliché, but Yoongi called him his sunshine so you gave him bonus points) and how everyone in your relationship was far from perfect but perfect in their own unique way that Yoongi adored.
You believed Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook had similar love languages, each of them thriving off physical touch. It wasn’t an uncommon sight for Taehyung to have his legs hung over Jungkook’s at the dining table, or Hoseok shielding Jimin with a back hug while they danced around the kitchen as the moon spilled in through the double doors in the kitchen. You liked holding Jimin’s hands while you whispered secrets to one another in the silence of the night, with no one but the stars to eavesdrop on your conversation, you liked when your knees brushed against Hoseok’s when you both built Lego, and you absolutely adored when Jungkook and Taehyung would slip into yours and Jin’s bedroom past midnight to sleep with the two of you.
Namjoon’s love language was veering towards words of affirmation, never one to shy away from sending you all texts on how he missed you as he worked. Always remembering to tell you all he loved you before you all slept. Occasionally you’d find small notes around the house, little poems about how much he admires each of you or words of encouragement when he knows you’re having a bad day. Namjoon was always so patient, uncaring when the younger hybrids would roughhouse him after a long day at work, watching with fond eyes as everyone settles down for dinner kindly prepared by Jimin; your family finally complete, with the 8 of you all chatting away about your days, aspirations, plans for the future. And Namjoon would listen intently to all of it, mentally noting down the snippets of new information he would learn about each of you.
And you always felt warm, the good kind of warm when everyone’s future seemed to include each other. And it was reassuring that what you had now was long-term. No one was going anywhere, and this house—one that had so many bad memories, was slowly but surely being washed of those bad moments, this home filled with more love than there ever had been.
8 hearts intertwined, brought together by fate—maybe to help each of you heal in your own ways. And healing had started to feel easier when you were surrounded by such lovable, understanding people. Healing felt worth it when you bared your heart with no added layers, shedding away walls like a butterfly breaking free of its cocoon, being handled delicately by those that admire your beauty. And maybe having people that encourage your wings to sprout, unfurling into something so beautiful is the final push you needed to start running towards your future.
+++
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper to Taehyung, trying your best to keep your huge smile at bay as you lay facing one another.
But it’s useless at his reply, “Because I really love you” he whispers back—and you can see it swimming in his eyes, a love so pure that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, his own body drawing closer to yours like you were two sides of a magnet; an unseeable force pulling you towards one another. Not that either of you were complaining, with Taehyung’s large hand rubbing tight circles on your hip, and your fingers tracing his prominent collarbones—there was no place either of you would rather be. Isolated from the outside world, with nothing but one another as company.
Your own eyes soften at that, hand coming to caress the soft skin of his cheek, stubble prickling at the tips of your fingers as you trace his jaw. Taehyung leans into your touch, eyes closing momentarily as he basks in the comfort of this moment. Selfishly wishing that time itself would stop so you could stay like this forever.
You’d both snuck out of the house, a wave of déjà vu washing over the two of you from the first few weeks of knowing each other; hiding away in the summer house where the outside world would be forgotten while you learnt more about each other, and you’d live in each other’s affluence; curtains drawn closed to cocoon the two of you from what may live in the real world. The loud chatter of the other 6 parts of your family shut off behind varnished doors and sheer curtains; the expanse of the garden feeling a lot bigger when it was just the two of you hidden away. Hundreds of thousands blades of grass acting as a barrier to your hideout while the rest of your family joked around in the living room.
“I love you too” you’re able to whisper before Taehyung is leaning forward, his lips slightly hovering over yours before he closes the gap, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. A beautiful, innocent kiss that has you melting into Kim Taehyung, his lips tasting faintly of the iced tea you’d had that afternoon, sun-kissed skin melding into one another.
You hum into the kiss, mouth parting when the strong muscle of his tongue flicks from between his lips to prod at the seam of your own. A silent question, asking for permission to explore you further. You oblige, head feeling hazy with love—and slowly growing arousal. You figure you’re not the only one who has slightly obscene thoughts plaguing their mind, as Taehyung’s hips jut forward rhythmically—bulge of his slowly hardening cock nudging the sacred mound between your thighs.
Taehyung’s fingers tangle within your hair as he pulls your further into himself, his head tilting just enough for the kiss to deepen comfortably. You feel his tongue lick at the roof of your mouth, a low grunt reverberating from his chest as he takes his time exploring, tasting what he can only describe as something so wholly you.
This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed—nor was it the first time you’d kissed like this. But to Taehyung, every time he shared such an intimate moment with you; it felt like the first. Like each time his tongue would slip past the seam of your lips, he’d get to explore you all over again. Slowly relishing the feeling of you. You who was so perfect, pretty, smart, kind, everything that has ever been good in the world. Taehyung liked you so much it was hard to contain himself sometimes. And no matter how hard he tried to engrave each and every ridge of your body, how your tongue felt lapping at his mouth, or your plush, kiss swollen lips pressing against his own—every moment Taehyung spent with you always felt new. Always refreshing, bold but equally as innocent and exhilarating.
Two lost souls finally intertwining into one, two pieces of the puzzles sitting snug by each other’s side.
Taehyung feels complete when he’s with you.
And often times he feels guilty, for the all the lewd thoughts he has of you when only the moon is there to witness the sinful acts he plays out in his bedroom—but you were so pure that he couldn’t help but imagine all the ways he could claim you as his own. A primal instinct, but Taehyung’s learnt to embrace his animalistic tendencies.
Sharing you with 6 other people was hard, and Taehyung wasn’t going to admit he was perfect. Jealousy was common at the start of whatever you all had at the time, the ugly, green feeling fizzling up his spine until he couldn’t help but snap at his Hyungs; because he just wanted you all for himself.
Guilt had played a large part of his life when he first moved in with you—jealous of what you and Jin had, jealous that it wasn’t him that had been in your life for so long, experienced new things with you like the fox had. Jealous when Jimin had joined you, your attention suddenly divided by three. Jealous when you spoke so fondly of Yoongi and Namjoon—betrayed even, that you had trusted human people so easily. The very beings that hated, shunned, belittled your kind when they were the ones to blame. Guilt consuming him because you cared for these people and he couldn’t help but act like a spoilt brat who didn’t like to share what he considered his.
But Taehyung had learnt that your heart was so full of love, you didn’t love him any less now that you had more people in your life. Stretching your heart out enough to fit everyone inside, making sure everyone was loved equally. If he was a musician, maybe he would write a song about how you were the epitome of love, so lovable with so much love to give.
Love, love, love.
He loved the word love. Because it reminded him of you—pretty little you, who he couldn’t imagine his life without. All thoughts of his future including you sat by his side. His pretty little baby.
You both release a shuddering breath, lungs greedily gulping for oxygen when you finally decide to part from the kiss with a lewd pop. But it’s only moments before Taehyung pushes himself to lean on his elbows, bringing your lips back to his own for another ravenous kiss.
This kiss is less leisurely, more feral this time, no care for teeth clashing or your saliva being shared from one mouth to the other as his tongue pushes to meet your own. Taehyung caresses what he can only assume to be his and your own spit from your chin with his thumb, mouth leaving yours to push the concoction of your own saliva onto your waiting tongue.
Your plush lips close around his thumb as he pushes down on your tongue.
Taehyung groans, “You’re always so messy, baby” he pulls his thumb from your mouth, caressing your spit over your bottom lip, his own quirking up into a cocky smile as he watches it glisten in the dim lamplight of the summer house.
You whine at that, “You’re fault that I get messy” you argue and Taehyung grins wide at that—enamoured by how cute you could be, even in such a compromising situation.
“Open wide”
You do as your told, lips parting with your tongue falling past your bottom lip. Just how Taehyung likes it.
You watch carefully as Taehyung gathers a wad of saliva in his mouth, his fingers gripping your chin to make sure your mouth stays open, and your panties damped when he spits into your mouth, rivulets of slick pushing past your hole, staining the cotton material in your steadily leaking essence. You make a noise in the back of your throat as his spit slides over your tongue.
Mockingly, Taehyung shakes your face—grip on your jaw tightening slightly as he leans down to press a kiss on your bottom lip, teeth nipping at the swollen skin, with what he deems to be the prettiest shade of red; and he can only imagine his own lips were a similar colour to your own.
“Swallow” he finally let’s go, your own finger come to caress your aching jaw, “Good girl” he groans when you open your mouth to show him.
Your hands slip under his shirt, fingers lightly trailing over his happy trail before they skim over his stomach—not as toned as Jungkook or Jimin’s but so perfectly Taehyung you rush him to pull his shirt over his head.
You sigh, happy as you take in his naked chest; pushing yourself to sit up so you could kiss over his collarbones—rightfully worshiping his honeyed skin. A little tanner than it had been that morning, but you’d both been lounging in the sun all afternoon.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume Taehyung was sculpted to rival the beauty of Adonis. A bold claim, but you stood by the statement. Because not only was his face the most beautiful piece of art you’ve ever seen, but his body was so soft, well taken care of, and just ever so pretty you never knew what to do with yourself.
The grey wolf doesn’t shy away from your ogling eyes, expression morphing into something a little cockier as he lets your eager hands roam the expanse of his torso. Eyes clearly avoiding the evident bulge in his pants, and he wonders if it’s because you like to tease him. Or if you really were just distracted with your hands trying to hold any piece of bare skin available.
“Taetae?” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes.
And Taehyung feels his sweatpants grow incredibly tighter as you look up at him so innocently—so obliviously pretty and so, so delectable. He wonders if you know the hold you have on him, how you have him and the rest of the guys wrapped around your pretty little fingers, the same fingers that inch closer and closer to the waistband of his sweatpants. He wonders if you know how he would do anything for you; all you had to do was ask.
“Yes, my love?” he brings a hand to come and softly caress your cheek; he’d always liked slow loving more than the feral fucking that the other guys enjoyed. That didn’t mean he didn’t like it a little messier though, the primal, more feral part of his brain liking the idea of knocking you up and keeping you safely by his side until you both grew old, precious little children running around the garden as you both watch with fond eyes.
“Can I touch you?” you ask, fingers toying with the strings of his sweatpants. And he finds it so cute that even now, you still ask for his permission; still somewhat jittery when it came to getting intimate with any of the guys that weren’t Jin, but he supposes he’ll just have to remind you who his body belongs to.
His head falls back as he groans, hips bucking up to try and get some sort of friction, biting down on his bottom lip when all he gets is the small gap between your bodies. Dumb puppy wolf brain begging him to free his bordering-painful erection and slip into the slick heat between your thighs.
“Of course. You own my body, doll.”
Your fingers slip past the waist band of his sweats, only to find out he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“You whore, you knew this was gonna happen” your fingers wrap deftly around his cock, teasing lilt to your voice.
Taehyung leans forwards so his head can rest on your shoulder as you help stroke him to full hardness, a speedy process considering he was sure most of the blood in his body had rushed downwards the moment his tongue lapped at your own.
“Actually, I don’t sleep in underwear” he retorts, no real venom in his tone; voice a little breathy as you squeeze him teasingly. But he lets you toy with him, happy that he has some sort of release—he was never too fussy when it came to you.
Your sluggish strokes come to an abrupt stop when the door to the summer house clicks open, flung carelessly so it hits the wall. Loud bang making you jump.
Taehyung chokes out a moan as you squeeze the head of his weighty cock, eyes wide with surprise as Jungkook and Jimin halt in their steps.
You open your mouth, words stuck on the tip of your tongue as both of their eyes trail downwards—to where your hand is stuffed into Taehyung’s sweats, evident lump where your hand holds the head, suddenly unmoving as your brain works a mile a minute to process that the cat and fox had stormed into your intimate time with Taehyung.
Mirth swims behind both of their eyes, shameless in the way they stalk forwards toward the bed. You let out what could only be described as a squeak when Jungkook pulls you up onto his lap as he makes himself comfortable on the bed, your hand slipping from Taehyung’s pants as Jungkook gets you both into a comfortable position, your tails wrapped perfectly around his waist so your back can sit comfortably against his chest.
You turn towards Jimin, eyes wide as he just looks down at you with that same amused glint in his eyes as when he had opened the door. Any words that planned to slip through your plush lips fizzling to nothing as you realise Jimin wasn’t about to help you.
Jungkook’s fingers trail down your stomach, bringing your focus back onto him as they slip past the waistband of your pyjama shorts.
The tips of his fingers trace the lacy trimming of your panties, teasing you as they don’t travel any closer to the pulsing heat between your thighs. Your hips buck upwards, trying to get Jungkook’s fingers where you needed them. And you let out a pitiful whine when his thumb just misses your pulsating clit, begging to be touched.
“Oh, you poor thing” Taehyung leans forwards, a mocking pout on his lips as he places a sloppy kiss to your cheek.
Pitifully, you snivel, your head falling back to lean on Jungkook’s shoulder as you look up at him with pleading eyes. Hoping that maybe he would be merciful enough to at least toy with you throbbing pearl.
“Mind if we join you, baby?” he asks, pretty doe eyes taking a serious edge to them.
You will your mind to be somewhat coherent. Because you knew that if you didn’t verbally answer, all of this would stop. A rule that had been negotiated early on in your relationship, along with safe words, boundaries, and proper after care routines.
“’s fine kookie” you whisper, lips pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw.
Satisfied, Jungkook hums; his fingers inching closer to the damp patch that darkened the pink fabric of your panties.
“This wet, just from getting Taehyung off?” the fox coos, his other hand taking a firm hold of your jaw—making you watch Taehyung undress at the end of the bed.
“Like making Taetae feel good” comes your reply, which was soon followed by a moan as Jungkook’s thumb circles your clit; the sensitive little nub making you jolt in the fox’s lap. A mean laugh bubbling up Jungkook’s throat as you moan.
You turn to look at Jimin who sits on the edge of the bed, his own hand tucked into his pyjama bottoms as he teases the tip of his slowly growing cock. You wiggle around in Jungkook’s lap, mild embarrassment crawling up your spine as Jimin just watches Jungkook’s hand tease you—veiled behind the thin cotton of your pyjamas and fully aware of the heavy bulge that presses against your back as your rock back and forth, silently begging for Jungkook to play with your clit again. The fleeting stimulation he’d given you enough to have you begging for more.
“Oh, you’re sopping. Just a needy little bitch that needs to be fucked full of cum, yeah?” Jungkook supplies, condescending in his tone as he rubs a finger over your clothed slit.
Taehyung scoots up towards the head of the bed where you and Jungkook sit; all clothes discarded on the floor somewhere. Your eyes fixate on his length, head a deep red as it slaps against his stomach with each jittery movement he makes, precum staining the tan skin of his stomach as it glistens in the dim orange light of the lamp.
Eagerly you lean forwards to wrap your fingers back around his sizable cock, there was something so…sating having Taehyung’s heavy length wrapped in your hands. But Taehyung stops you, lacing his fingers with your own to keep your hands from enclosing around his shaft.
You look up at him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion; and Taehyung laughs at how endearing you are. Always one to please others and not worry about your own pleasure. But he planned to make this about you, how could he be selfish enough to care for his own release when he had you sat before him.
“Let me take care of you, pretty” he tells you in a low whisper, pressing another kiss between your furrowed brows to ease them as his hands trail down your sides.
With Jungkook’s help, your pyjama pants are slipped off of your legs (it wasn’t easy with such thick tails, but you managed), knees involuntarily bending inwards as the cool air of the summer house brushes against your bare core, the slick that had trailed down your thighs starting to feel tacky against your heated skin.
It doesn’t take much for Taehyung to pry your legs back open, not when Jimin leans forwards to trail sticky fingers under your shirt to play with your breasts, his own precum slippery as he pinches your hardened nipples; earning a soft whine from you at the stimulation.
Taehyung leans falls tummy first on the bed, no shame whatsoever as he eyes your pretty pink pussy, lips glistening with so much slick he doesn’t think you’ll need much prepping at all. He watches as you hole clenches, hypnotising, eagerly asking to be touched, to be played with.
Taehyung doesn’t waste another moment before he surges forwards, tongue licking a bold stripe through your slit up towards your clit, the hood being pulled back by the thick muscle of his tongue.
You let out a shuddering moan, hands finding purchase on Jungkook’s biceps and Taehyung’s finger’s spread you apart so his tongue can prod at your entrance.
The wolf is unashamed as he laps up your slick like a starved puppy, which only spurs you into producing more as it trails further downwards—Taehyung pulling your ass cheeks apart, making sure he licks up any slick that spurts from your hole as it starts to soak the base of your tails.
Jimin helps you lift your shirt over your head, apologizing when he accidently smacks Jungkook in the nose. Said fox trails his hands down your body, tattooed fingers thrumming at your sensitive clit as Taehyung pushes his tongue into your awaiting hole.
Your back arches, so many hands making you feel good at once, the evident arousal that seeps from all four of you, Taehyung’s tongue ruthlessly scooping mouthfuls of slick from your hole and Jungkook’s pretty hands playing with your clit becomes too much. But it all felt so good.
It’s when Jimin’s eager finger pinch your nipples, you feel your stomach clench, thighs shaking as they close around Taehyung’s head. He knows you’re on the brink of your first orgasm, so he eases a finger into your hole, his own moan vibrating against the sensitive lips of your glistening cunt as he feels you clench around him. Jungkook doesn’t stop the tight circles on your clit, determined to help bring you over the edge.
“Can I cum, please?” you ask, frantic as your hips buck against Taehyung’s tongue.
“So polite” Jungkook coos, “Of course you can, baby”
You moan loudly as you come, head falling into the juncture of Jungkook’s shoulder as your thighs shake around Taehyung’s head. He pulls his finger from your hole, tongue lapping up your cum as it slowly leaks from between your swollen lips.
Slowly Jungkook stops his circles on your oversensitive pearl, not wanting to hurt you. You have to sluggishly push Taehyung’s head away from between your thighs, his tongue pushing you into overstimulation as he cleans you up.
Taehyung looks like a slick drunk puppy when he finally pushes himself to sit up, eyes a little hazy as he just looks at you limp in Jungkook’s lap—the fox still fully clothed as he runs his hands over your sides, helping ground you from the leg shaking orgasm you just experienced.
The wolf’s chin is covered in a sheen of your own slick and cum, you wouldn’t put it against him to say that some of it was probably his own drool as well.
“I have to get back inside and cook” Jimin announces, eyes looking warily at clock hung on the wall.
You whine at that, fingers tugging on his shirt.
“You’re still hard, Mimi. You can fuck my thighs if you want, I need a moment before I can go again anyways”
Jimin throws his head back, painfully hard cock twitching in the confines of his pants at image of you pliant underneath him while he gets himself off.
“You sure, little fox?” he asks, worry evident in his tone. He didn’t want to wear you out if you were already tired. Plus it looked like you had two other horny hybrids to sate before dinner that evening.
You smile up at him, heart feeling full as Jimin worries over you. You simply nod, pulling him down so you could give him a gentle kiss to his plump lips. You both share a moment, seemingly forgetting that you had two audience members.
Taehyung starts stroking his length, nothing that would actually get him off but enough stimulation that his erection wasn’t painful.
Jungkook leans back on the bed when you and Jimin part, your own hand coming to scoop a wad of slick from your cunt as Jimin pulls down his pyjama pants just enough to free is stiff cock.
Jimin had the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen, curved perfectly and the head a deep red that you’d considered on more than one occasion maybe you would suck it. (Which was very out of character for you because blowjobs were a big no go). But now wasn’t the time, as your fingers lather up his pretty cock with your own arousal, more of it leaking from your hole as you watch his length glisten.
Jungkook tries his best to keep your tails at bay, but eventually gives up as a few start to sway back and forth.
You push your thighs together, Jimin helping you fold them up to your chest as he pushes his cock through the seam of them. Grunting when he feels the wet, plush skin squeeze his length.
You close your eyes, relishing the feeling of Jimin’s body weight helping you keep your legs bent, the wet squelch of his cock between the meat of your thighs along with his timely grunts were a reminder that you were making him feel like that. You were making Jimin feel good.
Taehyung continues to stroke himself at the end of the bed, imagination running wild as he imagines himself in the cat’s position. Your fleshy thighs squeezing his cock, a hairs length away from the tip nudging your clit.
You jolt forwards when Jimin does accidently stimulate the bundle of nerves, his own apology dying on his tongue as his hips speed up, find a rhythm that draws him closer and closer to the edge.
His own toned thighs slapping against the back of yours reverberates across the four walls of the summer house, your own higher pitched moans harmonizing with Jimin’s as the tip of his cock continuously bumps into your clit with each forward push of his hips.
“So pretty, and perfect. Just a cock hungry whore, you couldn’t wait, could you? Wanting me to fuck your thighs so soon after Taehyung and Jungkook had given you an orgasm”
You hear Jimin let out one final moan before you feel his cum drip onto your mound, your legs being pulled open by the cat as he strokes his length—aiming the tip at your entrance so his cum starts to drip down your slit.
Without thinking, he pushes the head of his softening cock through your slit, watching as his own cum gathers at the tip before he’s smearing it around your clit—a dopy smile on his face as you whine at the stimulation.
He takes your cheeks into his hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he’s pushing himself off of the bed, pulling his underwear and pyjama bottoms back up before he’s skipping over towards the door.
“Dinners in an hour, try to finish by then. Love you”
“Think you’re ready to go again?” Jungkook asks once Jimin shuts the door to the summer house, his own cock feeling suffocated as he’d been waiting patiently for his time to come.
You nod, “Want both of you”
Taehyung chokes, “At the same time?”
You give him a knowing smile, and Taehyung throws his head back, groaning. What was he gonna do with you?
“Come here then, I’ll open you up while Jungkookie gets undressed”
Eagerly you scramble from Jungkook’s embrace, giggling when you accidently brush against his straining erection, flopping into Taehyung who catches you with a wide grin on his face.
He helps pull your legs apart, licking his lips at the way a mixture of your arousal and Jimin’s cum stains the inside of your thighs, eagerly waiting hole creamy as it beckons Taehyung to come closer.
He easily slips a finger inside of you, and you don’t flinch, more than used to the long fingers of Kim Taehyung pushing past your velvety walls. A second finger is soon slipped past the ring of muscle while Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head.
Your hips jump when the pads of Taehyung’s fingers prod at the spongy tissue, a happy smile on his face as he starts to assault your g-spot before he scissors his fingers to try and stretch you open a little more.
Before the two of you can get carried away, his fingers leave you, and you whine at the loss of contact; hips eagerly chasing after Taehyung’s hand.
He shushes you, pushing his fingers past the seam of your lips to make you taste yourself, hints of Jimin’s cum mingled somewhere in your own slick. Taehyung’s other hand helps you fall back onto the cushioning of your tails, helping you lift your hips, so your thighs rest comfortably over his own before he pulls his hand away from your mouth; using your spit to slick up his cock before he lines it up with your entrance.
“You sure you want both of us, small thing?” Taehyung asks, worried maybe you were biting off more than you could chew.
“Yeah” you reply, tone breathy as Taehyung runs the tip of his pulsing cock through your slit, running your arousal down his shaft.
You let him take his time, knowing that this is going to be just as much of a challenge for him as it is for you. And you can see the crease in his brow as he contemplates if he really wants to do this, inexperienced in this field of sex.
“I’ve done it a few times with Yoongi and Namjoon” you confess, in no way wanting it to seem as though you were comparing him to the others; only hoping to ease his worries slightly.
You both knew you weren’t made of fine china, nor would you break if they acted a little rougher with you. Jungkook wasn’t the most modest in bed, more than happy to throw you around to his will, fuck you like there was no tomorrow and push your own limits. (With a lot of aftercare of course, he was a sucker for sharing baths, lathering up your body with his soap, and then cuddling for the rest of the night, massaging lightly scented oils into the kinks and knots of your muscles that he may or may not have been part of creating).
That seems to spur Taehyung on, pulling your hips up as he lines his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing the tip inside before pulling out, testing the waters.
He hadn’t prepped you all that much, two fingers only doing so much when you planned to take both his and Jungkook’s cock at once. And Taehyung wasn’t going to act modest and say he was small in size; it was no secret how well-endowed the wolf was.
He pushes the tip back through your opening, groaning as he feels you clench around the head, body begging him to push further into you.
He takes his time, rocking back and forth, biting his lip as your greedy hole stimulates the sensitive head of his cock, “You sure this little thing can take two cocks, sweetheart?” he asks, head falling back as he pushes another inch into your tight walls.
You fervently nod, hips trying to grind down on more of Taehyung’s length, a breathy moan escaping you as Jungkook starts to circle your clit. With you rhythmically clenching on his length, Taehyung surges forwards, his pelvis flushing against your own as he slowly starts to rock back and forth, grunting when your legs wrap around his waist to keep him buried deep inside of you.
Jungkook’s hand gets trapped between your bodies, uncaring as he continues to stimulate your bundle of nerves.
“I have to stretch you out, pretty” Taehyung murmurs against your ear, hips grinding into you.
“Like feeling this full” you let out a long breath, pulling Taehyung impossibly tighter as you feel his cock twitch. The glare he sends Jungkook’s way a tell-tale sign the fox had meanly squeezed his balls.
You giggle, mind feeling a little hazy; drunk off love and probably animal mating pheromones. The air smelling a lot sweeter than it had when you and Taehyung first snuck into the summer house. The smell of varnished wood drowned out by the floral scent of Taehyung and Jungkook’s pheromones, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Ready to be bred full, sated with their thick, creamy cum oozing from between your thighs.
It takes a moment, but Taehyung is able to pry your limbs from out his body, watching as Jungkook’s hand inches down towards your hole. Being the muscle pig that he is, it takes Jungkook no effort to gently lift you from the bed, placing you back in his lap, his own hard cock jolting as the soft fur of your tails brush against the tender skin.
By some miracle, Taehyung is still sat inside of you, hips languidly pushing forwards in small circles to keep both of you stimulated while Jungkook gets comfortable.
When Taehyung notices Jungkook’s fingers circling your hole, he comes to play with your clit—hoping to somewhat relax you as Jungkook pushes a finger in beside his cock; you hole straining around the added girth.
You let out a moan, any qualms about the rest of the house hearing what you were up to flung to the back of your mind as you squirm in Jungkook’s hold.
He shushes you gently, kissing at your neck as Taehyung’s hips come to a stop.
You whine, eyes brimming with tears, “Don’t stop, please Tae” you cry, hips rolling to try and get Taehyung moving again.
He obliges, arms caging your upper body as he leans down to press a kiss to your cheeks, salty tears coating his tastebuds as he starts to rock his hips back and forth; Jungkook easing a second finger in beside the first, his thumb thrumming at your clit.
You let out a borderline pornographic moan when Jungkook’s finger’s push the head of Taehyung’s cock right into your g-spot, that, mixed with feeling so full has you reeling towards a second orgasm—still on edge from Jimin teasing your clit when he was getting himself off.
With four fingers and Taehyung’s girthy cock stuffed into your hole, Jungkook deems you prepped enough to lodge his own cock into you as well.
When he slips his fingers out of you, you let out a shuddery breath, hole clenching, Taehyung moaning as Jungkook’s nails rake at the base of his cock.
Times feels like a blur between Jungkook pulling his hand away from your heated core, and him lining his shaft up next to Taehyung’s; but a chorus of moans rings throughout the summer house when Jungkook manages to push the tip of his steadily leaking cock into you; Taehyung feeling winded at how tight it felt.
They’d both been edged for long enough, that there seemed to be a mutual understanding this wasn’t going to take very long for you any of you to come—your walls stretched beyond belief with Taehyung graciously flicking your clit.
Ever so patiently, Jungkook starts to feed his length into you, moaning when you clench particularly hard around both of your boyfriend’s lengths.
You can feel Taehyung’s heavy puffs of breath tickle your collarbones as he tries to stay still—scared he’d hurt you if he were to suddenly move, and it was taking all of his will power to keep his hips in place. All you can let out is pitiful whimpers as Jungkook carefully rocks into you, your cunt gushing around both of their cocks on a particularly jittery thrust. Your cunt trying to accommodate to both of their girthy cocks.
You can feel sweat travel between the valley of your breasts, and you think it must be a mix of your own and Taehyung’s as he takes a moment to breath.
Once Jungkook is fully seated in you, you let out a shuddery breath.
You feel so full.
Stuffed so much you think you can feel both Jungkook and Taehyung rearranging your insides.
It’s when Taehyung pushes himself to sit up, stiff cock pulling at your walls, he moans.
You feel his fingers prod at your stomach before you can even think to look down, but when you do you feel another wave of slick gush out of you; coating Taehyung’s steadily forming knot and Jungkook’s balls in your arousal.
Right beneath Taehyung’s hand was evidence of how big the two of them were, his hand stroking over the bulge in your lower stomach like he was jacking himself off over the taunt skin of your tummy. All three of you moaning when he presses down experimentally at the bulge.
“Please move” you manage to choke out; absolutely mesmerised as the bulge would disappear when Taehyung pulled back, forming once again when he snapped his hips forwards.
Jungkook chooses that moment to look over your shoulder, an unashamed groan bubbling up his chest as he watches your stomach flatten out when Taehyung moves out, only to push back up at your stomach again.
“Oh your fucking pussy is tiny, isn’t it baby?” his voice comparable to a growl.
Its only moments before Jungkook cums, Taehyung’s thick cock rubbing against his own, your small cunt squeezing him like your life depended on it, mixed with the clear visual of you being stretched apart so much he could see both of their cocks in your stomach was enough for him to shoot his load deep inside of you.
You feel the sticky white cum coat your walls, making you feel impossibly fuller as he starts to rock his hips upwards, chasing his high while making sure you milked every last drop, he had to offer. Taehyung can see the small rings of creamy cum sticking to the bases of both of their cocks as they rock in and out of you, coating your plush pussy lips with thick, white cum.
“Good girl, taking everything I have to give you. You like that? Like having my cum inside of your greedy little cunt?” Jungkook coos, condescending in his tone—grinning when you can only reply with a broken moan of his name, mind barely there.
“Oh Jungkookie, all she can think about it our cocks. The poor things too stupid to answer” Taehyung mocks, devilish smile on his face when you shake your head, blubbering. “She can’t even form a proper sentence. It’s okay doll; Taehyungie will take care of you”
You’re about to whine about Jungkook’s cum pushing out of your hole as he slips out of you, only for Taehyung to shove his thick knot into you—ever so close to it popping. And you start to see stars behind your eyes, Taehyung’s voice drowning into nothing more than white noise as your own hips grind to meet Taehyung’s.
Jungkook helps you reach your own orgasm, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit at Taehyung’s knot catches onto your hole; nothing more than shallow thrusts and grinding possible as he chases his own high.
The wolf leans down, sharp canines biting down on your nipple, and that has you cumming. You feel your body curl in on itself as Jungkook continues his onslaught on your poor clit—uncaring as you start to sob, too oversensitive and so close to another orgasm.
You think you cum again when Taehyung’s knot pops, the feeling of his cum flooding your insides enough for another orgasm to wrack through your body, causing you to shudder as you lay back onto Jungkook’s chest. Said fox runs his hands over your sides as your hips twitch up. Taehyung’s knot slowly deflating, filling you with more of his milky white cum.
Taehyung slumps forwards, slowly deflating knot and softening cock remaining inside of you as you both take a moment to breathe; Jungkook’s hands coming to brush Taehyung’s sweaty bangs from his forehead before he presses a firm kiss to your shoulder.
“I love you” Taehyung whispers, and you smile; eyes closing as you let your body rest.
+++
As promised, you allowed Jungkook to take you on dates once the situation was over and you felt like your life finally had some semblance of what it once was.
And to say he was the perfect gentleman would be an understatement.
He booked reservations in advance, wary that some of the places you wanted to visit were popular and it may be hard to get a table if you just showed up on the night.
He learned to bake, knowing you had a sweet tooth and wanted to watch you eat the cake he made with his own two hands while on a picnic. A part of him comforted knowing he was the one that made all the pretty sweet treats for you. And maybe he just liked to hear you compliment him, your validation sending him over the moon. And on some days, he even got a kiss on the cheek as a thanks while you lounged in the sun! (Anything that happened when the two of you got home would remain your little secret).
In spring you’d both walk around the park, hand in hand—and maybe you two were that sappy couple that single people cursed at for the excessive PDA, oblivious to their ogling eyes when Jungkook would lean down and press a strawberry sweet kiss to your lips, sharing ice cream or giggling over an old woman’s cute dog that would chase your tails. Jungkook think’s his favourite season is the spring; where flowers bloom in an array of colours, carpeting the expanse of parks and greenery, the grass vibrant virescent, the air floral and fresh. Jungkook loved the spring because it gave him the excuse to buy you pretty pastel dresses that fell past your knees, letting you sit on his jacket so your clothes wouldn’t get mucky from the soil; the sun acting as a canopy as you spend afternoons basking in each other’s embrace.
Summer you would spend by the pool together, spoonfulls of ice cream shared between sticky kisses. Hybrid ears matted with chlorine water while the sun caressed you skin, even in the summer heat you sat knee to knee, occasionally dipping into the water to cool off. And if Jungkook picked you up, throwing the both of you into the deep end just to get a rise out of you; that was a secret he was taking to his grave. When summer rolled around, Jungkook’s favourite season changed too; he loved the summer, driving both of you down to the beach. He wouldn’t mind if Namjoon asked to tag along; the producer leaving the both of you alone while he went crab hunting. Jungkook, never one to back down from a competition would challenge other beachgoers to sandcastle competitions where you would be his trusty decorator, the two of you winning more tacky stuffies as the prize from the nearby beach hut than you had space for. (Jin had built a new shelf for you to both display your small prizes, giving both of you a kiss when you tell him you’d won)
In the autumn he’d take you to marketplaces, watching as you pick out small pieces of jewellery for the other guys; tongue peeking through the seam of your lips as you focus on which fits each of your boyfriends best. Jungkook teasing the others with pictures of you and himself with matching outfits and quint accessories that you picked out for each other. And in those few months, Jungkook thinks autumn is his favourite—indulging you by buying all the pumpkin flavoured treats you would see, even though he knew you wouldn’t like them. Jungkook liked autumn because as the two of you strolled around the park, you would tell him how his fox tail and ears reminded you of the season. His auburn fur a similar colour pallet to the leaves that fell like confetti over the two of you as you rested under a tree. Squirrels of the same colour clawing their way up the thick trunk, head tilting your way when Jungkook’s laugh got a little boisterous.
In winter, Jungkook would take you ice skating, feeling as though he was your own knight in shining armour as he would pick you up when you’d fall; finding you most endearing when you’d swat at his arms, mock anger being thrown his way as you brush ice from your clothes. Both of you drinking hot chocolate as you watch kids build snowmen in the park; a few older kids having snowball fights. When winter rolled around Jungkook believes that maybe winter was actually his favourite season; because the two of you spend time inside, blissfully domestic as you sit by the heater with matching fluffy pyjamas and socks, 2000-piece puzzle being forgotten as you lay across his lap; Jungkook’s fingers carding through the soft fur of your tails.
It had taken him a while to realise that he didn’t need a favourite season, he just liked spending time with his favourite person. He’d never been one to like activities where you had to sit down, his patience similar to that of a child; but he’d come to realise he just didn’t have to right people to sit down and just… relax with. Take time out of the day, recuperate and recharge with the people he cared most about.
Jungkook loved everything when it came to you, he liked certain vegetables because they were your favourite colour, wore certain fabrics because he knew you were fond of them, and he seemed to always catch his flushed cheeks in the view finder when a commenter on his stream would ask how you were doing; apologising when he would babble on about you for 10 minutes to his viewers instead of loading up the next level of his game.
It had been close to two years since the incident happened; and slowly over the course of time hybrids had started to integrate more into society.
Evidently there were still small pockets of people that didn’t agree with hybrids being so close knitted into human’s lives; still turning their noses up at the mere sight of them, venomous words spat in the direction of innocent hybrids that were only trying to live their lives; free of trouble.
But you felt that the world was finally changing. Slowly—but it was the evident change that mattered.
More restaurants were open to serving hybrids, and rules on hybrids going out alone without supervision was becoming laxer. You felt more comfortable exploring the city alone, shop owners more than happy to help you when you looked a little lost, and stall owners tipping their hats your way when you’d smile, walking by their store.
When there’s light, shadow is to be expected. Hybrid activists had started to knuckle down on facilities; helping free ‘failed’ hybrids—sending them to well established care centres and helping them set up lives outside of the city where they wouldn’t be shunned. But peaceful protests could only get people so far. No laws planned to be established about ending the experiments on foetuses, the government still pumping out hybrid children like produce in a factory, and only so many facilities could be overrun by essentially powerless individuals who have better moral values than the pompous assholes that work in politics.
+++
You’d just spent the afternoon with Jungkook, he’d found a small lake further out of the city where you’d spent the day dipping in the water; eating sandwiches in the back of his car with fluffy towels wrapped around your shoulders. That evening however, Jungkook had to stream; leaving you at home with Hoseok, Yoongi and Namjoon while the other three were out on their own little date (not their words, but yours).
You were lounging by Yoongi’s side, his arm lazily slung over your shoulder while Hobi was flat on his belly across the sofa while Namjoon sat on the chair.
The movie was innocent enough, a typical coming of age story with boringly attractive cast members and a cliché plotline. To no surprise it was Hoseok’s choice; Namjoon nor Yoongi wanting to disappoint the wolf allowed him to pick what he wanted.
When a steamier scene started to play on the large screen, you didn’t think much of it. Familiar with random sex scenes being worked into sappy romance films even if this was on the family channel. You supposed production companies were trying to broaden their audience.
Your nose twitches when the sweet scent of arousal penetrates the air, and like tumbling dominoes, it’s only moments before you can start to feel yourself slicken up. Panties sticking to your folds uncomfortably.
You look over at Hoseok, who’s already staring right at you. Yoongi asks if you’re okay when you start to fidget beside him, thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the steadily growing ache between your legs.
Namjoon watches as Hoseok pushes himself to sit up, hungrily pouncing for you; his lips smacking onto your own for a heated kiss. You let out a strained moan, partially because you just bit your tongue, and partly because Hoseok’s lips felt so nice against your own.
You manage to pull back for a greedy gulp of air—long string of saliva snapping between the two of you when you both sit back. You manage to catch the wide eyes of Yoongi sat beside you, pupils blown as he takes a moment to catch up with what he just witnessed.
“Did you really get horny from a movie sex scene” you manage to pant, teasing lilt to your voice.
Hoseok just frowns, fingers taking a hold of your shirt before he brings his lips back towards yours; kiss softer this time.
“Maybe” he murmurs, his lips a hairs width away from your own.
You close the gap between you, fingers trailing down his clothed torso to the evident bulge in his jeans. You palm him over the rough material, drinking down each and every moan that he lets out as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.
With hesitant hands, you feel Yoongi behind you start to trail his hands over your stomach, thin summer dress doing nothing to hide your hard nipples as Hoseok grinds up into your hand.
When you part, your eyes meet Namjoon’s—even in such a situation he always looks so calm and calculating.
“Joonie” you beckon him over, “want a kiss”
Never one to disappoint, Namjoon pushes himself from the chair—sauntering over towards where the three of you were on the couch. He leans down, indulging you in a slow, passionate kiss as Hoseok’s wandering hands slip up the skirt of your dress, deft fingers rubbing over your covered slit; groaning at how damp the material was.
“You’re soaking, sweetness” Hoseok tells you once you and Namjoon part, your mouth falling open in a soft moan as Yoongi pinches your pert nipples.
“Just for you” you manage to squeeze out, hips rocking back and forth over Hoseok’s hand.
He smiles devilishly at that, pushing your panties to the side to gather your slick from your leaking hole. He smears your wetness around your folds, tips of his index finger barely pushing into your pulsating hole.
You grind down on his hand, palm nudging your clit perfectly as your fingers scramble to help clip open his belt. Sensing your desperation, Namjoon helps you, gently pulling your fingers away from Hoseok’s jeans to help get them off.
At some point, Yoongi had stopped his teasing at your breasts, unclipping his own belt, pulling his jeans down and discarding them somewhere on the floor.
“Keep the dress on, you look too pretty” Hoseok tells you when you go to take it off, pulling your thighs to lay over his own so he can take your panties off.
“Bend over, baby” comes the wolf’s harsh tone, and you do just that. Flipping the skirt of your dress over your bare asshole, tails falling limp over your back, face and chest laying on the sofa as you present to Hoseok like the dumb puppy you were trying to please the larger wolf.
You feel him palm the plush cheeks of your ass, thumb teasing the rim before his hand stoops lower, index and middle finger dipping into your clenching hole. His other hand swats at your skin, lip bitten back by his teeth as your skin flushes a dark red with each slap to your left cheek.
Namjoon groans as he watches slick spill from your hole, body subconsciously aware of the pheromones Hoseok must be pumping into the air. When you look up to what Yoongi was doing, you catch sight of him stroking his cock; not as girthy as the others but definitely the longest, curved in the perfect place to make you see stars whenever he fucks you.
You reach out, slim fingers wrapping around his shaft as you start to stroke him, his own hand dipping to squeeze his balls.
Your mouth falls open when you feel the blunt head of Hoseok’s cock pull your cunt open, stretch immense as he slowly feeds all of his length into your awaiting hole. Head thrown back as you squeeze his length—begging for him to shoot his cum right into the back of your cunt.
“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon runs a soothing hand over your back, biting back a moan when Hoseok decided to start jacking the younger producer off.
“Really good” you let out a long sigh when Hoseok bottoms out, pelvis flush against your plush ass cheeks.
Yoongi throws his head back when you start to speed up your strokes, fingers feeling sticky with the amount of precum that was leaking from his slit—momentarily you pull your hand from Yoongi’s shaft, bringing the tangy precum to coat your tongue. You hum, spitting into your hand to help lubricate Yoongi’s length more before you went back to stroking.
Hoseok chooses that moment to start rocking his hips, small circles to help you adjust around his thick cock.
“Think this small cunt can take my knot?” Hoseok growls, the only semblance of a warning you get before he starts jackhammering into you, well-rounded thighs rippling each time he thrusts into you.
You blabber, almost incoherent as you call out his name, fingers falling tighter around Yoongi who chokes out a long moan.
You think you feel Namjoon’s slender fingers trail underneath your body, using your own arousal to slick up your clit. You jolt forwards when he starts to rub tight figures of eight on the small bundle of nerves.
“You close, pretty?” Hoseok moans, pleasure consuming his whole body as you clench around him.
You nod, hand slipping from Yoongi’s hard cock as you grab onto the fabric of the couch, your moans in tandem with Hoseok’s as Namjoon continues to flick at your clit.
You feel a gush of wetness spray from your cunt, Hoseok and Namjoon’s groans echoing in your ears as you rock your hips back to meet Hoseok’s thrusts. He quickly pulls his length from your pussy, guiding his cock to slap over your clit, watching as another gush of wetness squirts out of you onto his abdomen; dripping to coat the base of his cock in your juices.
“Holy shit” Hoseok breathes, languidly stroking his length—coating it in your release, “Baby you just squirted”
You release a shuddering breath, thighs still shaky as your hips fall onto the couch, legs twitching as you take a moment to breath.
“Did I?” you manage to croak out, thighs clamping shut when Namjoon goes to run a finger through your slit. You feel his finger wiggle against your clit, and you feel tears run down your cheeks in overstimulation.
“I’m sensitive Joonie” you whine, hips bucking.
“Want me to stop?” he continues to flick at your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“No” you moan, slowly closing in on a second orgasm.
Hoseok watches as a gush of your cum leaks from your cunt, drippling down to where Namjoon continues to flick at your clit, skirt of your dress falling over your ass.
You look over at Yoongi, the tip of his cock bordering on purple as he watches your thighs clench an unclench.
“Can I ride you?” you watch the older producer’s eyes widen, “Just don’t touch my clit and I think I’ll be fine”
“You sure?” he asks, hands already moving to help you sit up.
You place your thighs either side of Yoongi’s, hand falling between your bodies to grab at his long shaft while the other holds up your dress so Yoongi can watch where the two of you connect. Carefully, avoiding your sensitive clit, you push the head of his cock past your velvety walls.
Your thighs strain as you bounce in Yoongi’s lap, grateful when you feel Namjoon’s fingers wrap around your waist to help lift you up on the eldest’s cock.
Yoongi can feel your silklike walls squeezing his length, your own cum from your prior orgasm dripping down to his balls, loud squelching of your sopping cunt rivalling your moans.
Hoseok’s fingers skim the base of your tails causing you to slump forwards, falling onto Yoongi’s chest.
You feel his cock twitch, nudging perfectly into your g-spot before he cums. Milky white semen glazing your walls. You continue to bounce in his lap, helping him ride out his high.
He has to hold your hips down, mainly because he wanted to keep his cum deeper inside of you, but he was also slowly nearing being painfully overstimulated.
And Yoongi groans when he looks down as you lift yourself off of his cock, your cunt squeezing his gooey release back onto his length.
“Think you can go one more time?” Hoseok asks you, helping you stand as your legs were still shaky.
“Yeah” you turn to look over at Namjoon, “But what about you?” you ask the younger producer.
He waves you off, hand already trailing down his stomach to take a hold of his cock, “I don’t mind cumming on your tits”
You let out what could only be described as an unattractive snort as you let Hoseok position you how he wanted, malleable in his arms as he gets comfy.
You can feel each ridge and divot of his girthy cock as Hoseok pushes into you, your walls oversensitive from the constant stimulation you’d had paired with the multiple orgasms Namjoon and Hobi seemed to wring out of you.
Hoseok’s pace is a lot softer than he had been, enjoying being able to hold your hands while your legs rested over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms flexing as he leans down to press a firm kiss to your lips; thin string of saliva dangling between the two of you when he eventually pulls away.
Rhythmically Hoseok rocks into you, fingers gently squeezing your own as you fall over the edge for who knows what time that evening. You shudder, long drawn moan spilling past your lips as you orgasm, less intense than the prior ones but equally as pleasing.
Luckily it seemed Hoseok’s knot was catching onto your rim, your spasming walls massaging his length; enough to bring him over the edge. His knot locks in place, keeping the two of you breathing heavily as Hoseok’s thick cum splatters deep into your cunt.
You hear Namjoon moan, his cum dribbling onto your chest second later as he strokes his length. What you don’t anticipate is Yoongi kneeling over your head with his long cock enclosed in a tight fist.
Your eyes squeeze shut, Yoongi’s low groan the only warning you get before his cum shoots over your chest, joining Namjoon’s own seed. The younger of the two producers smearing the mixed concoction over your nipples.
A drop or two falls onto your forehead, Yoongi scooping it up with his index finger before pushing it into your mouth.
“You guys hungry?” Namjoon asks as he pulls his belt through the loops of his jeans.
You and Hoseok turn to look at each other, eyes trailing down to where you were still locked together, “Might have to wait a while hyung”
+++
You stare at the run-down building, worried maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew buying Jin a restaurant—or what will be a restaurant. Currently it looked a little worse for wear, and you’re pretty sure you saw a few rats milling around like they owned the place. Which is definitely a health hazard, but you didn’t know the number of the local rat terminators, plus you didn’t want them killed. What if one of them was a chef, like Remy? And he could help Jin run the place.
You knew Jin would probably be angry, mad that you’d spent all your inheritance money on the raggedy old building just because he once had a dream.
And to him it may have been a fleeting moment, nothing more than a dream—something so far out of reach he gave up chasing it all those years ago when it was evident that he would never own his own restaurant. To you however, Jin having such an ambitious dream had always left you in awe. And while maybe he buried the idea of having his own quint, little, hybrid-run eatery in the dark crevices of his mind, you always awaited the day you could surprise him with the perfect place and enough money to make it his own.
Food was more than a basic human need in Jin’s life. His cooking brought people together, made you all sit around the table as a family and bond while you ate the meal he graciously prepared. Hours spent after longs hours at work cooking for the two of you after your owner died and you had no one but each other left in the world. Jin learnt to cook meals that brought the two of you comfort, encouraged you to start your own garden, both of your hobbies working in tandem with one another; you were occupied during the day and Jin got to cook with your homegrown produce.
You would have never met Jimin if it weren’t for your garden, nor would you have ever bonded with Namjoon over a similar interest. Food meant the world to Jin and Jin meant the world to you.
Lazy afternoon spent as teenagers binging cooking shows, Jin remembering recipes off by heart after only hearing chefs explain them once. Evenings spent around the table, giggling at jokes around Jin’s cooking, your owner always looking a little healthier than he had that morning thanks to Jin’s meals.
You remember the exact moment he had spilled his secret dream, embarrassed you would find him too ambitious and laugh. But you’d listened to him, watched the excited glint in his eyes as he explained every miniscule detail about what he wanted his restaurant to look like, from the wallpaper to the tables, to the menus. Maybe Italian in style, but he worried people would think he only sold Italian food, and a greasy American diner didn’t fit the aesthetic of his cooking; homecooked, hearty meals made for the people you love. So you told him to create a design of his own, something that stood out.
He’d spent hours that night telling you of his dream, and maybe that was the moment you realised you were in love with him, more than a housemate or an older sibling. You loved Kim Seokjin because he was modest, humble when he could easily brag about his immense skills in all areas of life, he had vocation, a dream so wholly him you could only admire him, he was kind, patient—answering all of your questions, helping you when he was busy.
You just really loved Jin.
Sometimes when you love a person, it’s hard to find the right words to explain how much you, well, love them. It’s hard to put into words your admiration for someone without sounding like a broken record, overused words of endearment and cheesy compliments had never felt like enough because if everyone else in the world could say them, then what was so special about your love for that particular person.
After everything Jin had done for you, ‘I love you’ didn’t feel like enough.
Of course, you hoped Jin knew that you loved him—you loved him more than life itself. But you felt the best way to truly cement your feeling for him, was to give him the final push to quit the dead-end job he currently worked at and took the final leap towards his long-time dream.
You aren’t sure why you feel so nervous when you get a text from Jungkook announcing he would be arriving with Jin in less than 5 minutes, maybe it’s because you don’t know how he’ll react, what if he doesn’t like the layout? Or the area? What if he just didn’t like it because you thought you’d be a little righteous and force a whole new responsibility onto him. You tried to remember as much of his description as possible, not worried that the building was more expensive than the other places you’d viewed as it was closer to the CBD, perfect for business, even if the place was going to be run by a hybrid.
You planned to hand off the last of your inheritance money to Jin for decorating, wanting him to create his dream restaurant. It’s not like you had much use for it anyways, with Namjoon and Yoongi’s wages enough to cover food, with Hoseok now working for money rather than rent and Jungkook making more off his streams than he had when you first met him, money wasn’t ever going to be an issue. So, you’d much rather hand it off to Jin who would use it for something worthwhile.
You choose not to turn around when you hear the engine of a car rev behind where you’re stood, ignition clicking off before the doors open.
Jin comes to stand beside you, his arm falling comfortably over your shoulder as he looks up at the gritty building.
“You okay, sweetheart? Jungkook said you had a surprise?”
You look over your shoulder at Jungkook who leans against his car, a smile that you can only assume was to be encouragement gracing his pretty face. “You remember when you told me you wanted to own a restaurant?” you ask, watching Jin’s side profile as his eyebrows crease, cogs of his brain whirring away.
“Yeah?” he turns to look at you and then back at the building, pointing at it, his eyes widen in surprise.
“I know it’s not much but it’s in a good area so business should be good, and I have the rest of my inheritance money for you to decorate the place just as you dreamed” you explain, biting your lip.
Jin stays silent, eyes raking over the dingy building. You feel your heart drop to your stomach when his arm slips from your shoulder, maybe you’d gone too far.
“You did this, for me?” he asks, hesitantly taking a step closer to the building.
“Of course, once you told me you wanted to be a chef, I decided I’d save up for your own place” you explain, rocking back and forth on your heels.
Jin turns towards you, and you’re a little taken aback by how glossy his eyes were. You let out a squeak when he pulls you into his chest. And you open your mouth to complain that you could feel your ribs cracking under the pressure of his hug but choose not to when you hear Jin snivel, pearly tears falling onto the crown of your head like the rain does in spring.
You wrap your arms around Jin’s torso, your own eyes glazing over with saline tears as you feel his body shake. It’s not often Jin cries, he always had the idea that he had to be the stronger one for the two of you; so you couldn’t help but feel that tell-tale little lump form in your throat as you feel your own emotions catch up on you.
“Why would you spend your inheritance money on this… this silly little dream?” he pulls you away from his chest, eyes glassy as they meet your own.
“Because it was never silly, Jin. Do you know how cool I thought you were when you told me?” you smile up at him, hand snaking between your bodies to wipe away the tears that ran down his cheeks.
“What about your money?”
“I don’t really have a purpose for it, so I’d much rather you have it” you wave him off with an easy smile, “Besides, Jimin was excited to start working here”
“Oh, my little fox” Jin cries, pulling you back into his chest. You let him hold you, rubbing his back as you feel his body shake, arms tightening around him when he lets out a loud sob. You don’t need to ask him to clarify if they were happy tears, the mumbled ‘I love you’s enough for you to gauge that maybe you did do the right thing.
You seem to forget about the world around you; you and Jin in your own world. Uncaring when a man walks by giving you guys the side-eye, or when an overexcited stray circles around your legs.
“Thank you”
+++
Later that evening you find yourself sat opposite Jin in the large bathtub, your knees pressed against each other as the mirrors fog up with the steam that whisps from the scalding hot bathwater.
Jin reaches across his lap to take a hold of your hand, bringing up to his lips to place a delicate kiss to each of your fingers.
“Thank you, for making my dream come true”
You shake your head, “It’s all thanks to grandpa, it was his money anyways”
“I think he’ll be happy, knowing where our lives have led us” Jin pulls you closer to his body, droplets of water slipping down his defined chest. You watch the water ripple around the both of you, whirring of the in-bathroom fan white noise as you allow yourself to gather your thoughts.
“I think he’d be proud, we stopped moping around and made a big change in our lives” you supply, “But I feel like no matter what, whether he was alive or dead, fate would have brought all of us together no matter what” you refer to your other 6 boyfriends who you can now hear laughing downstairs.
“You think so? We wouldn’t have gone to visit Taehyung if he hadn’t died”
“I guess not, but I think you forget why we went to that specific facility. A week after we brought Taehyung home the hybrids rioted, broke free of that shithole; so, I think fate would have brought Taehyung to us anyways” you smile, “Everything worked out in the end, so maybe all of the hurt was worth it”
You really had been thinking about your chance encounters with each of the boys, how far you’d all come from when you’d met years ago. Broken people with brittle hearts and not much hope in the scary world. But together, life seemed a little better.
“We could have gone about the problem a different way” Jin muses, running a wet hand through your hair.
“Probably, but there’s no point regretting the past when we have the whole future ahead of us. Together”
“When did you get so wise” Jin throws his head back laughing.
“Since I started hanging out with Namjoon” you joke.
Jin feels your hips start to rock forwards, soft flesh of your thighs rubbing against his slowly hardening cock.
“We have to go downstairs soon, the others will be wondering where we are” Jin sighs, hands falling to your waist to help you rock over his length; words not reflecting how he really felt. Not when he encourages you to run your slickened cunt over his length.
“We can be quick, they know that we like to spend a long time in the bath anyways” you let out a soft moan as the head of Jin’s cock runs over your clit, parting your slit before catching onto your hole.
You use the edge of the tub to help push yourself up enough before you grab onto Jin’s cock, thumb teasing his slit under water before you guide it towards your waiting hole.
When you sink down, water sloshing around the two of you, you both let out long, drawn out moans. You feel Jin’s nails sink into the skin of your hips, the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his length enough of an indication for Jin to start gently thrusting up into you.
Your hands cup his cheeks, hips rolling languidly to meet his own thrusts as you lean down to press a soft kiss to his plush lips.
Jin’s tongue licks up at the seam of your mouth, silently asking for access, you oblige moaning as you feel the wet muscle of his tongue lick up into your mouth.
You part with a wet pop, your legs clenching around the outside of Jin’s thighs as his pace quickens, determined for you both to reach your end. The fox’s hand trails from your waist, between your bodies down towards your clit, his fingers coming to rub tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“I love you” you moan, hips bucking against Jin’s as plants his feet on the floor of the bathtub, pushing up into you harder.
“Love you too” he flicks at your clit, both of you uncaring as water splashes over the edge onto the tiled floors, bathmat working hard to soak in the water that you both spill. You come before Jin, a loud moan ripping up your throat as he helps you ride out your high, your hands coming to grab at your breasts as you roll your hips.
Jin comes inside of you, hips stuttering as he coats your walls with his release; his head falls back against the wall, heavily breathing as you slump onto his chest.
“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you” Jin whispers, head leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“And I wouldn’t know what to do without you” you look up at him with a smile.
+++
You and Jin stand in the doorway to the living room, 6 pairs of beady eyes looking at the both of you with knowing smiles on their faces.
“Have a nice bath?” Hoseok pipes up, teasing lilt to his voice.
You supposed if the obvious moans coming from the bathroom weren’t a dead give-away, both of your flushed red cheeks certainly were.
“Very nice, actually” you tell him, falling over Taehyung’s lap. The wolf’s fingers falling to card through the damp fur of your tails.
If anyone were to walk past your house, they’d see the lights on in the living room; sheer curtains pulled closed to give you a little privacy. And if the crickets were a little quieter, they’d be able to hear the loud laughter of Hoseok as he bounced around the living room, Jungkook hot on his tail as they mimicked the actors on the TV while Jimin filmed when and the rest of you stifled your giggles.
If someone had walked past your home years ago, maybe they would have assumed the house was abandoned, scrappy old car in the driveway with more than half of the home’s curtains closed. Dead silence from those that resided inside.
Now, you kept your owner’s old office open, the key tucked neatly away in a drawer in the kitchen. Old photos hung on the walls, and memorabilia neatly tucked into the drawers of the desk. The bookshelf now held both old and new books, Namjoon using up the empty shelf space to hold his own collection while Yoongi upgraded the old computer into something a little more modern.
You kept the office door open, letting a breeze waft through the room. The stale air no more, damp furniture reconditioned, and bad memories replaced with better ones. Newer ones that felt like they belonged in the room that had once housed better times that were no more. The musty old room a reflection of your own wretched emotions, fears you were too scared to face, because letting go of someone you love is hard.
But you can only start healing when you learn to let go.
You and Jin had finally cleared out your owner’s old bedroom too, the small grave you had both build for him remaining, but you’d sent his clothes to charity shops and shredded any remaining paperwork he had left behind, using it to cook marshmallows out in the garden of an evening.
You remember as a child, your owner—your grandpa—telling you that the brightest star in the sky would be your most loved one looking over you when they were gone, guiding you down the right path in life. So, when you look up, the sky clear of any clouds, and you spot that star, one that shines brighter than the rest; you take a moment to wonder if maybe your grandpa was watching over your new family. Happy that you and Jin had found peace of mind and opened your hearts to so many new people.
And you felt happier, sure, there were days you felt as though any progress you’d made was meaningless; life feeling a little too hard to live sometimes. But you couldn’t rush healing. And you wouldn’t rush it because learning about yourself through this journey was healing in itself.
Healing is never going to be a straight line, never going to be a solid path for you to walk down without challenges along the way, ones that push your limits, make you question why you still try even when the end seems too far out of reach. But that’s why you’ve learnt that setting small goals is the best way forwards, one step at a time; why worry about the millionth step when you’re only at the start of the race?
You’ve learnt to try and live life without regret, it’s okay to reflect, figure out what went wrong and find a solution for the future, but if you look back for too long, you’ll only stumble, slowing yourself down. Don’t regret the inevitable, the situations you have no control over, don’t regret what you haven’t done and work towards doing it. Don’t regret what could have once been, because the past is over, and you have the whole future ahead of you.
The path you’d taken hadn’t been the smoothest, nor had it been the most faultless. Afterall you are only human, and perfection is a subjective term, no one is truly perfect. Your plans had flaws and desires beyond selfish when you embarked on your journey of freedom. You’d brought 7 people into your own problem because you couldn’t handle it alone.
But you truly believed that no matter what path you had taken in life, the 7 men that sat beside you now would have caught you when you fell; each path that represented your lives always bringing you to a crossroad, where you’d meet and then walk down the same path, this time hand in hand. Fate working in a funny way to bring all 8 of you together.
And as you watch Yoongi and Jin huddled beside the barbeque, their face glowing from the charcoal lit fire with Namjoon reading to Jimin while Jungkook falls over both of their laps dozing off, Hoseok and Taehyung running around the garden like two puppies, everyone you love all in one place;
You think you’ve figured out the world’s little secret on how to build a home.
#ot7 x reader#bts fanfic#bts jungkook#bts fluff#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fluff#seokjin fic#yoongi fic#jimin x reader#bts hoseok#bts seokjin#taehyung x reader#taehyung fluff#hybrid bts#namjoon imagine#seokjin fanfic#jungkook#bts smut#seokjin smut#yoongi x reader#namjoon x y/n#hoseok x reader#bts namjoon#taehyung#bts jin#jin#bangtan#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#bts x reader
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WIP Sunday
bc it's been too long since I've done a wip wednesday and i can do what i want.
this is from a new obikin fic! Sorry if it's a bit confusing, it's based on all the scottish castles (AKA some people's homes) I've visited.
Try to guess who Obi-Wan is heheh
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“Welcome to our castle!” Anakin greets the man coming through the front door with a smile as he has been instructed. It’s still early, they have just opened the doors. Anakin thought it would take longer for people to arrive, as the first tour doesn’t start in another 15 minutes but, in the few days Anakin has been in this country, he has learned that they like to start the day early and be on time.
The man blinks at Anakin, surprised at being greeted. Maybe Anakin was too friendly? Too loud? A small smile creeps its way to the man’s lips as he eyes Anakin up and down, he seems amused. And hot. Fuck he looks hot. He has blonde or maybe reddish hair, styled a bit long and a carefully trimmed beard. He is wearing a Belstaff motorcycle jacket and Anakin has seen people wear it even if they don’t ride here but fuck, he hopes the man has a bike because that would be so hot.
The man has taken a few paces in his direction and now that he is closer Anakin can see that there are raindrops on his hair. Anakin moves his gaze to the outside and sure enough, it is drizzling now, like it seems to always be in this country. Looking away from the man makes Anakin’s brain finally start working properly again. He clears his throat. He really shouldn’t be thirsting after the first visitor he has seen, he doesn’t want to lose this job.
“Our first tour starts in around fifteen minutes. You can buy the tickets in the next room.” He signals towards the door. “Once you have them you can wait here in the great hall while looking around.”
The visitor lifts his eyebrows. “The tour.”
“Yes, visiting the inside is only permitted in groups with a guide. Don’t worry, you will have plenty of time in each room to admire everything properly and, if you want more time, you can just ask the guide.” Anakin hasn’t really done the tour before, he was only guided through the itinerary as the actual guide explained what he needed to do, which isn’t much. He is not sure any time would be enough to really look at everything that is displayed. The rooms filled with old expensive furniture and the kind of knick-knacks a very wealthy family can accumulate over hundreds of years. He for one hasn’t had time to look around properly. Castle, they call it, this huge old house with enough rooms to be a hotel - Anakin tought castle meant huge walls and battlements - and enough land to have a town built inside it. Now that he thinks about it, he is not sure the town is not built in the castle’s grounds.
“Of course,” the man agrees. He sounds… posh. Anakin can’t exactly pinpoint where he sounds exactly from, he is not used to the accents here enough, but he does sound Stewjoni. “will you be coming in this tour?” he asks as he eyes Anakin up and down again. Anakin tries not to blush.
“There will be a guide with us but yes, I will be coming, I have to make sure no one gets lost or steals a spoon.” He jokes.
“Oh yes, we don’t want any missing spoons.”
The guide Anakin is meant to accompany, Aayla, comes into the room at that moment. She looks at Obi-Wan with surprise. Maybe it’s not normal that visitors arrive so early, but there are some cars pulling up on the front already. The visitor speaks before she has a chance to say anything.
“I’ll go buy the ticket then, for the tour, because that’s why I’m here.” He says as he makes eye contact with Aayla, who just looks surprised, but understanding. Weird. Maybe they know each other. Aayla had told him that some people from the town came to visit sometimes. The castle has not been opened for long, just the summer before this one, so there are a lot of locals that want to take a look.
The visitor starts walking towards the ticket office. “Good morning, Aayla.” He says with a smile as he passes by her. So they know each other. He must be from the town. Anakin resists the urge to ask Aayla about him as he disappears to the next room and instead greets the next visitors and signals them towards the ticket office. If the man lives in the town Anakin will probably see him again. He will be here three months and the town is not that big so even if he doesn’t manage to speak to him again during the tour they will surely see each other again.
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Current Stuff in the Works
Steady Tracks chapter 2 is still happening (I have finally gotten a second wind and am making decent progress)
I've been working on a short animatic for Spirit Keeper Ingo (It's mostly done but I haven't had the time to go back to it since the semester started)
Potentially might be starting a second fic in the near-to-far future. I realized one of the things tripping me up with STDNW was not having variety, so i might start another fic to work on when I can't make progress on ST.
I am also still working on that Uquiz. all the quiz parts are done but shockingly it takes longer than you think to write 30+ paragraphs about all the different final answers. oof. That's lower on my priority list but i'll probably get it done over the summer
Oh this is important also, STIngo is getting a redesign. It's not major, just wanna fix some shape language stuff. Make him look more pokemon. That'll happen officially at some point but again god forbid I set a concrete deadline sdjghdh
⭐Other animatics in the future, maybe some comics. Art hard, brain bad, fuck it we ball
Thank you for your time, have some doodles 👍 (these are between a month and a year old, horrors of constantly evolving art style n character designs, yadda yadda)
#submas#status update#steady tracks#steady tracks do not waver#STDNW#spirit keeper ingo#combee!au#Vespingo#once again i am trying to get myself to post art under any circumstances possible#archeops#pokemon!ingo
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bunnyguard reflection
in the spirit of 'fuckit it's my own blog i can be sappy if i want to' as well as 'this took a year and 78k and i get to keep talking about it for at least one more day' now and here is the time and place for personal yap that did not go in the last author's note.
preliminarily speaking, i had this concept in mind before I'd finished either the usagi yojimbo comics OR watching Rise. i spent so much of both of those series fishing out little moments and choices by leo and usagi that made me go 'oh my god i NEED these guys to meet, i need to watch them bounce off each other.' I kept collecting snips of ideas, and dialogue, and encounters that never quite all panned out or fit together because this was just so much fun for me to play in. I had a lot of wanting to turn this into a real story but no concrete frame to build it on, and then in january i saw the year of the otp prompts go by. and went 'oh haha that looks fun.' it was even the year of the rabbit. and then i went 'oh!! what if i did VIGNETTES for these!!' and then less than three days later the Battle Nexus as political element of the Hidden City, complete with connections to the very different other iteration of it that we'd seen, fell into place and suddenly this silly little whim was an actual big project staring me down with an ambitious goal in mind, and I had no idea if I could pull it off.
structuring it as a month by month thing was something i'd never done before. it forced me to wait to find out what would happen, to keep building to something that didn't exist yet, to lay down the track while I was driving the train. and at the same time, it gave me space to grow, to practice putting together a beginning, middle, and end every month. and it gave me something to look forward to, and the excitement of dropping in threads that wouldn't pay off for months, and watching as it went to see what the audience reaction would be. were people getting out of it the things i wanted to give them? was i hitting the notes i wanted? i had the sketch of the year, but i was still learning what was going to happen until the moment the last word hit the page. plot and character choices, but also big thematic stuff! i described November's fic as 'the ten of swords' to Space and then went 'wait a fucking second' and realized that I could draw a connection, in order, between each fic and a numerical card of tarot's suit of swords. (mostly one-to-one --october straddles 9-10, and December loops us back around to the Ace of swords, for new beginnings.) i couldn't have done that on purpose. if i'd had that thought in january i would have gone 'no that's too pretentious and too hard' and avoided it.
also!! this has been a year of my life!! over the course of this series, i've had four different living situations (that lasted longer than a week), two different jobs, and gone back to school. i had to change meds, which was an anxious ordeal in 'am i even going to be able to focus on anything now?' the cat that was purring on my lap while i worked on the first few months has now passed away. this fic kept me company on the flight for my move to a different continent. it kept me sane in the middle of a very stressful summer. it's helped me meet and get closer to some really cool people. i can FEEL how it's made me a stronger writer.
and on top of all that: i am deeply, genuinely, truly proud of this series. i'm glad i wrote it. i'm amazed at how it's turned out. i can see things i would change if i did it over, but i'm glad i won't be. i'm glad this is the way it exists. and i am utterly blown away that there are people who told me they were looking forward to it every month, that they've been following it since the beginning, that they like what i've done with this place. this is the longest-term project i've ever done. it's the most words i've ever put into a single narrative. i can't believe it's never going on my wip rotation again. whadda hell.
i have no idea if i'll ever do anything like this again. i hope it won't be anytime soon--there are other things i want to do in the meantime. but god, am i glad i did it.
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out of curiosity, what made you decide to make this into a full fledged visual novel instead of just writing a fic? esp since afaik there hasn't been a demand/outcry for more bloodbound
(this ended up being rlly long, so I'm putting it under a cut. if you don't want to read all of that, the tl;dr is I've been working on an spec adaptation of Bloodbound since 2021, I've been making edits with Choices assets for a little over a year now, and I started messing around with ren'py during my stint in the now no longer active @nightboundthesecond project, and this spinoff is the culmination of all of those things bc I wanted to do something w them).
Anyways, here's the long version:
So...I kind of already did. Sort of.
In summer of 2021, I was going through a pretty bad depressive episode and ended up rereading Bloodbound (which got me back into the fandom as a whole, more on that in a sec). When the dust cleared, I began really heavily reconsidering what exactly I was doing with my life.
I'd been toying with the possibility of doing a film MFA of some kind, but I was worried I didn't have the skillset to get into any grad programs. So, I began teaching myself how to write screenplays by adapting Bloodbound into a spec TV series. From August 2021 to April 2022, I wrote twenty-eight episodes, with three rounds of revisions, which really strengthened my abilities as a writer. I'm currently at a T10 film school getting an MFA. I wouldn't be where I am without doing that. Part of my love for Bloodbound stems from the fact that it quite literally changed my life.
The very nature of turning a book into a screenplay/teleplay is that you have to restructure a lot of plot points so they fit in better with the new medium. With a TV adaptation, you also usually have to build onto the source material. For Bloodbound, that meant fleshing things out and creating new characters to move the plot forward. It also meant exploring things that either happened offscreen or were only brief scenes.
And so when it came time to write episodes for the book 2 adaptation, the huge aspect of that was going into New York City and seeing what Gaius was doing during his hostile takeover. And since I had very little to work with from the source material, I had to come up with a lot of stuff off the cuff. And as I put those storylines together, I was like there's actually some pretty interesting stuff here. This visual novel is based off of that stuff.
@clansayeed and his fantastic reimaginings of Bloodbound and Nightbound had been on my radar for a while at this point, but I wasn't aware of the fake caps he made until I actually checked out his tumblr account. I thought they were really fucking cool. As a little private celebration for finishing the third round of edits for season 1 (and to let myself take a break), I decided to teach myself how to make fakecaps and recreate a few scenes from my adaptation in the Choices format:
I found out that I really enjoyed reworking assets into new outfits and character designs--lowkey, putting on a podcast or a video essay, opening up pixlr, and just making stuff became one of my go-to ways to unwind in the midst of mfa apps and life in general--, so I started making more fandom service stuff for fun and posting them on Reddit. I made a variety of stuff: role reversal AU edits, general dress up stuff, and of course... "on the set of [choices book]: the tv show" fake caps.
I feel like you're not really supposed to say this, but it was kind of validating to me that a lot of those posts did like. Decent numbers. And that kind of motivated me to get better at doing it, especially in the beginning.
And then...It Lives Within dropped. And I think that shifted a lot of how people--myself included--considered what they could do within a fandom space like Choices. Like, if we could make our own shit, why not? I was really intrigued by the idea, and so when there were calls for writers and sprite artists for a Nightbound project, I jumped at the opportunity.
(As a side note, I think the fact that now there are people within the fandom making their own sequels/spinoffs/whatever is gonna be rlly interesting for the general ecosystem of the Choices fandom and its future, but that's a convo for another time lol)
While the team I was on is no longer working on a sequel, being part of that group did a lot for me, and I look back on being part of that really fondly. I think we all were kind of picking up whatever we needed to do, regardless of if it was what we signed on for. For me, that meant teaching myself how to use Ren'py. The thing was, this was still in the really early stages of development, which meant I didn't have a lot of story to play with. So...
I was kind of like. Fuck it. Let me try my own thing out.
The original idea was actually a prequel set in the 1910s, as I'd done an MC set and an LI set based on that very premise, but the problem was that there are so few assets from that time period, and asset creation has never been my strong suit. But then, I thought back to the adaptation I'd been working on.
Some of the strongest writing I think I've ever done was in the episodes where the primary storylines were following Gaius's takeover of New York. I think a lot of the themes of the second book came out in those moments. And as cool as it would be, as much as I've fantasized about it, I don't think Bloodbound: The TV Show is ever happening. So it made sense for me to rework that into a visual novel spinoff.
In terms of the actual framing of this story, I spent a lot of time in the Bloodbound tags in the early days of working on my adaptation. I was deep in those tags. And it's really interesting to see what people expected it to be before its release. Part of it was the assumption of a Clan sorting system. Obviously, that wasn't actually the case.
Additionally, I think a lot of people were frustrated by the fact that Bloodbound's MC isn't really given the option to just. Be bad. Which then makes moments like this super jarring:
So, I decided to put everything I'd learned together. I was working on the GUI/character creation features for Nightbound (side note, the GUI in this game isn't an absolutely perfect replication of the Choices GUI yet and won't be for the demo, but we're getting there), I had a ton of edits I'd made that I wasn't using for anything, and I had a story that I knew could be reworked into an arc about a new vampire in New York City during Gaius's coup.
But with this project in general, it's less about a demand for a sequel/midquel/spinoff within the fandom and more like. I noticed that there were some things people wanted out of Bloodbound and didn't get, and trying to give it to them, because I wanted those things too, and I felt like I had the means to create that. When I've talked to IRL friends about this project (non of whom play Choices), I've just been like "yeah it's a visual novel fanfic" because...it's a visual novel fanfic.
So. That's why.
(This was super long (and felt a little self centered, sorry!), but if you read all of that, I hope it all made sense. All of this is to say that this has been a labor of love for a book series I've been living with for a year and a half, and I want to get part of what I've done with it out of my head. I hope you all like it.)
#bloodbound#bloodbound the siege#anon#ask#sorry this was so fucking long but i rarely get to talk about this stuff lol
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I belong with you
-> What happens if he sees his schoold best friend again?
-> Word Count: 965
->Author note: my first fic I hope you like it <3 English is not my first language so sorry for mistakes
Daniel Ricciardo, F1 driver, was strugling with himself. He knew that he was in love with his best friend,
He had actually kept these feelings inside himself for many years. Now Daniel had to make a decision, to tell you or not.
He decided to go for a walk in Perth, your home place, one of the most beautiful cities in the world, at least for him.
Daniel lived in Monaco, and he spent most of the time there, but he was in Perth for the weekend in summer break.
He was in the park you always went in your teen years and spent hours laughing and been 2 best friends idiots. He was lot in his toughts when something or someone broke them.
"Daniel, how are you? It is a long time I haven't seen you around here."- You told him when he sat in the bench you were.
"Ah, I've been very busy, you know, races. I came back a little to get used to the time change," Daniel told him.
"That sounds hard. But congratulations on crossing the wins record of Formula 1. It is a hard job but it is the one you love, the one you have been training for. It is just that can keep the rest of us in good terms, huh?"-you said, putting a lighthearted smile on his face.
It had been a long time you didn't see your old friend, but it did not felt like it. It felt like you kept talking like it was yesterday you did something and laughed at it.
"How have you been? What are you doing?"Daniel asked you.
"I have been great, I'm working in my mum's company. And what about you? How have you been? I missed you Dan." You told him, laughing at the memories and pictures of when you were younger and ran away from home to go with your dad to see Danny karting and to some of his european competitions . Daniel also laughed and told you about his latest races. When you guy's had been talking for a few hours you looked at the time and saw that it was really late. "I have to go, I'm sorry Dan." You said as you gave him a hug goodbye and left towards your house.
When you arrived, you threw yoursel in your bed and remember all your memories together.
-Fuck, I'm in love with him- you realised but told yourself to stop thinking of him. You tried to sleep but found yourself thinking about him all night long, so you decided to get up and text Daniel. You started with a "Hey Dan, I miss our talks today."
He replied back almost immediately and you guys talked for a few hours until you finally fell asleep. You had been best friends since you were kids and always stuck together. Daniel had always secretly been in love with you, but never said anything as he didn't want to ruin your friendship. But now, things were different. You had both grown up and things had changed between you. There was now a spark of something more and Daniel knew that he couldn't ignore his feelings any longer. He loved you and wanted to be with you, but was scared of what might happen if he told you. Would things change between you? Would you still be friends? Daniel didn't know what to do, but he knew that he had to tell you how he felt. He was scared, but it was time to take the plunge and tell you the truth.
He finally decided that it was better to tell you how he felt and risk everything, rather than living with the regret of never having told you. st places in the world to think. As he walked along the beach, he thought about how everything started between you two.
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The following day he told you to come over to his house, where you had been so many times inyour childhood.
-Come with me- You were hesitant but you nodded and followed him over to the side of the room.
"What's up?" you asked. Daniel took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I need to tell you something," he began. "And I'm really scared about it."
You could see the fear in his eyes and you instantly knew what he was going to say. You had always known that Daniel had feelings for you, but you never said anything as you didn't want to ruin your friendship. But now, things were different. You had both grown up and things had changed between you. There was now a spark of something more and you knew that you couldn't ignore your feelings any longer.
You loved Daniel and wanted to be with him, but were scared of what might happen if you told him. Would things change between you? Would you still be friends? You didn't know what to do, but you knew that you had to tell Daniel how you felt.
You were scared, but it was time to take the plunge and tell him the truth. "I love you, Daniel," you blurted out. "I'm in love with you." Daniel's eyes widened in shock as he stared at you. He hadn't expected you to say those words, but they were exactly what he had wanted to hear. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. "I love you too," he whispered into your ear. "I've been in love with you for so long." friends since you were kids and always stuck together. Daniel had always secretly been in love with you, but never said anything as he didn't want to ruin your friendship.
"Baby i belong with you"
#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#f1 drivers x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#daniel ricciardo#f1 blurb#Spotify
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how did you first get into writing?
Not to be all "I've been writing since I can remember" about it, but I kind of have been. Did the whole thing where I demanded my mom type up little stories I dictated to her and stuff. I was an only child, so I played by myself most of the time, and it's hard to do that if you can't make yourself part of stories and construct imaginary worlds.
The difference between my "I was always writing" story and some other people's was, I didn't give myself a ton of intellectual or creative freedom, for a variety of reasons I won't get into here. Lots and lots of things went unfinished. I was great at nonfiction and essays and writing stories and poetry that adults liked/approved of, so I won a lot of prizes and got into summer programs and stuff, but I didn't actually have fun with fiction until very recently.
When I finally started writing fiction again in my 20s after more "life experience" (i.e., doing myself a lot of intentional and unintentional harm), I hated it and felt awful about everything I wrote. I decided to let myself quit. I had been forcing the identity of "writer" on myself since I was a kid, so I just allowed myself to say, "I'm not a writer anymore." It was actually pretty fucking freeing and a good reset.
Since I knew I was still good at organizing thoughts, digital publishing mechanics, and writing copy, I got into book publishing. I figured everyone else's stories were better than mine anyway, so I'd just focus on helping them. The longer I helped others, though, and worked on managing my mental illnesses, the more I thought that I could probably do it for myself again at some point.
I could never finish any piece of fiction longer than a very short story until my first Magnus Archives long fic, which I wrote at 34 years old. Shockingly (sarcasm), it was not long after I finally came out as pan and nonbinary. Turns out when you hold giant pieces of yourself back from your art, it really shows. I was actually a writer, and I did have stories worth telling. I just needed to be honest with myself about who I was and not police my thoughts so much. I recommend it.
Probably a little longer than the question warranted, but thanks for asking!
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new year's ask game for fic writers:
thanks for the tags @mybrainismelted and @rayrayor !
1) What fic did you have the most fun writing this year and why? Or, if you can’t decide, what was most fun about writing this year for you?
i had the most fun writing what we stay alive for this past year, it was really a passion project of mine that turned into this wonderful labor of love
2) What’s a scene/story that you finished and felt “wow, I really accomplished that, that actually went so well”?
probably loving you with no conditions, i've always really wanted to write a fic with that premise but i put it off for a long time because i was worried i wouldn't do it justice. but in the end, i think people really liked it, and it's one of the fics i'm most proud of tbh
3) What helped provide the most inspiration for stories, if anything? Was it poetry? A song on repeat? A gorgeous gifset? A walk outside? A book you read that made you want to change everything? Whatever it was! Tell all.
unfortunately the thing that inspires me most continues to be running/exercise. i cannot even begin to tell you how many plot bunnies/outlines i wrote in my head during runs last summer when i was training for a race. idk what it is, but when i'm locked in with my headphones on, my mind starts to wander and it gives me some really good ideas (and some wild ones, but those are fun too from a creative standpoint)
4) What is something you want to share about what you’ve written this year? A particular line, a comment that made you feel really good, a scene that was difficult to write — you get to choose! What do you wish someone would ask you about when it comes to what you’ve written?
god, i don't know. i've gotten a lot of really wonderful comments this year, too many to pick just one.
a scene that was difficult to write would probably be all of chapter four of orange juice, that fic overall is hard to write (but i still want to finish it someday)
but i write more fluff than anything so i also wanted to add a scene that was really fun to write, and that was writing mickey high as fuck in i need you (like cake on my birthday)
and to start off 2024…
1) Do you have any writing/creation goals for the year? What are they?
my goal for the year is to write two (2) complete multi-chapter fics. i mostly exist in the oneshot world in the shameless fandom, but i miss plotting big long fics and i really want to try and stick with at least two this year.
2) Is there a fic or idea that you’re really excited to be able to continue to work on in the new year (shout out to my fellow fic writing folks who take forever to finish wips, sometimes it’s nice to be able to continue working on something even if you wish you’d gotten it done! Now you get even MORE time with it!)
i think rock star mickey au is the idea that i most want to see come to life in 2024. i've been plotting it in my head since like july and one day i want to be confident enough to actually write the vision that plays on a loop in my subconscious.
3) What’s something new in your writing you want to try/are going to try? A different writing style? Different fandom? Darker works? Fluffier? Longer or shorter?
god, i mean, i guess i want to try writing more smut? i don't write a lot of it rarely any ever but i want to put a little bit in my big bang fic, and maybe some in some other fic ideas i have too. so yeah. maybe i'll try more of that in 2024 idk don't quote me on it.
4) What’s something you love about your own writing that you will continue to appreciate in the new year?
honestly i really like the way i write dialogue. it sounds very natural to me, idk if anyone else agrees, but when i re-read some of my fics i'm just like yeah exactly he would say that
(and maybe it's bad or wildly out of character but idk. i like it.)
tagging anyone who wants to play <3 happy 2024 my friends!
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A one shot that was meant to be flash fiction (I tried, not very well, lmao) for Ferguson Friday! The end is also a mini sneak peek into the beginning of the Denise/Ferguson fic I've been working on the last few weeks (and hope to have done sooner rather than later!)
A snapshot of Ferguson prior to the meetup in the aforementioned longer fic, giving a look into what he's like outside of work/what worries him/how he lives. Also my chance to give him the backstory the original show wasn't able to lol, including a focus on his relationship with his aging mum and deceased father.
TW for mentions of coping via less than ideal habits with cigarettes and alcohol
There’s a particular creak of the floorboard at the center of his entryway.
He always manages to press directly on it; the toe of his slightly scuffed black dress shoes pressing down into the dip of the board. A sign of rot? Just a quirk of the flooring, older than him by more than a stretch?
He settles his woolen coat, then his suit coat, onto the coat rack in the corner of the entryway. A gif from his mum, when he’d first moved in. It’s been ages since she’s been out to visit, but with her emphysema, she doesn’t get out much at all anymore. Per the doctors, it’s safer for her, and he can always come to visit her.
But the work takes over his schedule, and she tells him to put himself first. She won’t be around forever, but she’s ‘not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.’ He doesn’t know that she’ll get as much choice in that as she wishes, and he misses the sight of her coat on the rack. Vintage fur in the winter, a tan lighter wool one for the spring and summer. Fall, she doesn’t leave the house, when the memory of his father’s death presses upon her.
His father wasn’t particularly impactful. Not much good, but did minimal harm, overall. Left the three of them with an addiction to cigarettes from the stress of getting on together, and a predilection for alcohol at the worst of times.
“What would he say about all of this?” Trevor asks aloud as he pours himself a dram of whiskey. “He didn’t teach you to act like that.”
He didn’t refute it either. That’s not an excuse, barely an explanation, and he desperately wants to call Denise.
It wouldn’t be appropriate, and why on earth would she want to hear from him now anyway? After the years of shouting at her, admittedly for things that were going to get her in trouble, might have even ruined her career-
He pulls off his tie and tosses it over the arm of the armchair before he drops into it with an exhausted sigh. His work now isn’t tiring because of the effort, but because of how fucking boring it gets. How repetitive. Everyone wants the accolades for doing something good or useful, but no one wants to actually do it, and it feels useless advising people that make more money than him about it.
The drink is good, and after he has a new cigarette lit (from the good pack, the better brand that he hides down the side pocket of the chair, only for his worst days), he can almost pretend he’s relaxing.
The phone is on the small end table near his chair. He’s kept it old school, with a corded phone that stretches nearly all over his flat so he can keep moving as he talks to people.
Not that anyone other than his mum and boss ever call, but. The option is nice to have.
He pulls the table closer now, so he can dial. But his fingers don’t move as they linger in the air over the buttons of the dial pad.
“She’ll tell me to fuck off, and she’d be right to do so,” Trevor mutters.
But he’s heard rumours. Just little things, but with massive implications for Denise if true.
And in his heart, he knows they likely are. She wanted the man caught, and she didn’t care how. He can’t blame her, but there’s next to nothing he can do to protect her.
He tosses back the rest of his drink, and dials his mum’s number instead.
“Hello?”
A voice, not unfamiliar, but not overly familiar either. The new nurse he’s hired to keep an eye on her in the afternoons and evenings. He’d forgotten she’d be in already. “Trevor?”
“Yeah, hi,” he stammers. “Is Mum in?”
“She is, but she’s gone down early tonight. She did ask that I wake her if you would call, do you want me-”
“No, don’t wake her,” he rushes through the words, regretting having called at all. She gets so tired, of course she’s not awake this late into the evening. “Thank you for answering, and for keeping watch on her. Is she doing alright? Do you need anything? I can pop down and bring anything you-”
“The pantry is still full of the snacks and things you bought last time you visited,” she cuts him off gently. “I’ll let you know when we start running out. She did okay today. We managed a walk down the lane which she really liked. Wished for a camera, so she could show you the birds we saw.”
He makes a mental note to find her a camera, something not antique, but that she won’t struggle to use either. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear, and I appreciate everything you’re doing for her. I know she can be-”
“She’s no worse than anyone else on my schedule,” the nurse laughs, and he’s in a panic trying to recall her name. Close to Denise’s, so he’d kept getting them confused-
“Trevor, maybe you should get to bed as well, hm?” Dena. That’s it. Dena, specified on her resume that it’s spelled with an ‘e’, not an ‘i’. “I’ll let her know you called in the morning, and she might reach out then after I go. You two can chat over breakfast.”
He’ll be out for the day, but she has his office number too. One of the few who does, along with Denise. “Sounds good. Thank you, Dena.”
She hangs up with a gentle chuckle, and there’s a flutter in his stomach again.
He could try. He could call her and apologise for all of it. Let her know that it’s not an excuse, barely an explanation, but he’ll do what he can to make up for it. Even if he can’t do much for her current troubles, if there’s anything at all-
His phone rings, and he nearly drops the receiver as he picks it up. “Hello?”
“Can you come over?”
Denise. Sounding like she’s on the edge of tears.
“Sorry?”
“Can you just come over?”
He panics, nearly dropping his cigarette as he sets it into the ashtray on the table. He’s got a bit of an envelope and a pen that works if it’s held at a very exact angle, and even if he can’t get the address of wherever Denise is down perfectly, he’ll wander until he finds her.
He interrupts her own panicking flurry of words. “Where are you?”
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Secret (Armitage Summer Splash. Day 8)
As part of @lathalea and I’s Armitage Summer Splash, I present to you, day 8.
Masterlist of fics for Summer Splash
Prompts: "Show me your face." / A secret is found out trope.
Fandom: The Stranger
Pairings: Adam Price x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, language, miscarriage, ghosting, depression
Summary: You have ghosted Adam suddenly after being in a relationship with him for the last ten months. You seemed to be doing well, considering you were the first person he was seeing after Corrine's death. But why have you ghosted him? What secret is about to be told?
Comments/Notes: If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please say. I have put a warning above for miscarriage mention and some description. However, it's not something I've experienced myself, but have tried my best to depict it tastefully and accurately.
Adam couldn't understand what had happened. The two of you were happy, or you seemed to be. It was not far off your ten-month anniversary. The age gap at first had been something you both suspected may have caused issues, but it never became a concern the longer your relationship went on. The ten year gap was nothing to you both.
And now you were ignoring Adam's calls. When he had gone to your flat, you didn't answer the door. It had been two weeks now since he had last seen you, and the pain of your absence and silence was pressing on his chest, gathering momentum day by day.
One evening he sat down at the laptop, a glass of whiskey next to his arm. An email had appeared in his personal inbox, the sender of the email only marked as John Smith. Your name was the subject of the email.
Adam opened the email and began to read; it was simple and to the point. Nothing, not even the sense-dulling whiskey, prepared him for what was to come. His eyes studied the email three times, re-reading the text. When suddenly bile reached his throat and he raced to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet bowl.
How could you have kept this from him? How dare you not tell him!
***
You were still off work, and every morning you woke to feel the emptiness inside you. The emptiness felt as if it were growing, spreading outwards and consuming you.
Your phone chimed from the bedside table. You sighed, rolling over to grab the nuisance.
Don't you dare ignore me. I KNOW!
He knew? How the hell had Adam found out?
Then there was banging at your front door.
You took a deep inhale and shuffled through the hallway and down to the front door. The banging continued and you heard Adam's deep voice from outside. "You'd better open this door. I'm not going anywhere! Show me your face!"
Adam's face was contorted in anger. You could see he was livid. He pushed forwards, shoving the door open.
"How fucking dare you! I know you weren't planning on telling me. That was my child as well!"
You stepped back, feeling dizziness hit you.
Adam continued shouting at you as you walked down the hallway, trying to ignore his voice. But it was too much. "Oh, just shut the fuck up!" you screamed, turning back to face him.
Adam was taken off guard for a second; his eyes widened in disbelief at your outburst.
"You have your children, Adam. The boys will always be more important and special to you," you growled. "Corinne was your first love and all that."
"You can't fucking say that!" Adam bellowed. "I love you! Haven't I shown that to you enough. We spoke about Corinne so many times when we first started going out. You're no less important to me."
You broke down into tears in front of him. "This was my first baby, Adam. I'm thirty five and never thought I'd ever have children...and, you have the boys. You've already got children, and I'll always have this hole inside me. I never even knew I was pregnant until the bleeding."
Adam rushed at you and took you into his arms. "Shhh," he cooed. "I can't tell you it'll be okay, because it won't. But I'm here for you. I will always be here for you. Just...don't shut me out of this. I need to mourn with you."
You wept on Adam, holding him tight. "I want to wake up and this will all be a dream."
***
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