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#idk what to put in the patches so i just put in whatever i think fits ;;

enheene · 8 months

Note

Rich kid boyfriend heeseung fucking you into oblivion as you try to study- can you make it a fic?

He wants it? He gets it.

18+ MDNI

Lee Heeseung

}^Warnings: spoiled!boyfriend!hee x afab!reader, unprotected sex, pet names, idk just annoying hee but then both of them being all lovey dovey, reader crying cuz a bit overstimulated, oral (female receiving), idk semi?squirting, breeding

}^Words: 1022

}^A/N: I’m new into writing this kind of stuff, sorry if you’re disappointed by it!! I’m as well hoping for my fast improvement in writing fics^^

Studying isn’t a thing you enjoy at all, but to get a well-paying job, that’s the only thing you can do. Having a part-time job as a waitress in a small café isn’t paying you enough for you to pay all of your bills alone. What about the food you need to survive? Well, your boyfriend Lee Heeseung, who is a young man, from an upper-class family with a playful lifestyle, helps you out. A lot. To which you’re of course grateful, but he just doesn’t take anything serious. Why would he though? He’s one of the most spoiled people you’ve ever met. He doesn’t need to study as much as you do, he doesn’t need to care about the bills, he gets whatever he wants and that means he also wants you most of the time.

„Seungiee, not now. Later”, are the only words repeatedly leaving your mouth for about 3 hours now. Your boyfriend still doesn’t seem to care, that you’re busy studying for your upcoming final exam of this semester.

,,But y/nnn, I can’t wait anymore. Do you know how hard it is to not throw you on our bed and fuck your brains out? Just, please, get a little bit of a break.”, seeing him all pouty, whiny and horny just for you, makes you less concentrated on your studies. As always. He already knows how to make you give up on your assignments, chores, etc. It annoys you sometimes, but what can you do? He’s your lover after all and you appreciate all of his efforts to make it less stressful for you.

„No, I have more important things to do.” You answer him. „More important than me? Is that so, angel?” Cocky and horny. Nothing new about your boyfriend.

As you continue to study with a book and pen in your hands, he picks you up and lays you down on your king-sized bed. „Heeseung! What are you doing?! Did you lose your mind!?”

„I actually did, yeah”, he informed you with a smirk on his face. Slowly taking off your sweatpants, as you try to get out of his grip, unveiling your pink, laced panties with a wet patch on them. ,,You’re losing your mind as well, princess. Aren’t you?”, Heeseung chuckled with a now slight smirk remaining on his face. He took the pen you were still holding in your hand and started moving up and down your clit with it. You started whining at the sudden touch of something unfamiliar but yet satisfying to you. ,,Princess, do you mind reading out loud what’s in your book?” He asked you while pulling your shirt up, uncovering your breasts. Right after, he’s pulling your panties down and throwing it on the floor. As the wetness is dropping down your cunt, Heeseung decides to take off his own shirt and pants, being left in his boxers only. You start whining asking him to touch you already but he just answers you with a ,,I asked you to read.” Scrunching your face you start reading the quotes first, making him finally put two of his fingers into your pussy moving them in and out. ,,Hee, please stop”, your trembling voice telling him throughout reading the book as your back started to arch slightly. „Is that what’s written in your book? Besides, I don’t think you actually want me to stop”, he teases you as his mouth starts kissing your thighs and then licking and sucking on your clit harshly but yes so lovely. Your moans of being close to your climax and struggling to read the book makes him harder and harder each second “Cum for me, baby”. He’s moving and curling his fingers in your cunt even faster than before, untying the knot in your belly as you moan his name out loud losing the concentration from reading the book. All of your juices being slurped by Heeseung leaving his chin wet. ,,So fucking sweet, princess. You did so well for me.” He doesn’t wipe it away as he starts kissing you making you taste yourself. ,,Don’t stop reading.“ are his only words while he’s taking his boxers off enough to free his leaking with pre-cum dick. As you start reading again, Heeseung puts the tip of his cock into your still sensitive cunt making you squirm. ,,Please, no more.” Just these 3 words falling out of your mouth made him put his whole length in as you let out an almost pornographic moan. “I’m pretty sure you can take it, my angel baby.”

Tears slowly falling out of your eyes as he’s thrusting deeply into you at a fast speed, making you moan his name over and over, as the book is fully forgotten by you. “Princess, I didn’t tell you to stop reading, did I?” Your boyfriend reminded you, while breathing hardly, about the book laying next to your head. You reach out for it and start mumbling some nonsense that isn’t even written in the book. Heeseung chuckling deeply with a smirk on his face only to speed up the pace. “Fuck, so tight, baby.” He groaned. “I’m about to c-cum.” Were your last and only words coming high-pitched out of your mouth, including his name and the mumbling of the nonexistent phrases out of your book. Your cunt throbbing and releasing even more juices than before, makes Heeseung curse under his own breath as your clenching cunt brings him to release his seeds inside of you. “I’m so proud of you, angel. We should do this more often though.” Hee chuckled as you agreed with him. You whined as he pulled out of you, feeling empty and surely telling him about the feeling of emptiness. He smirked at the common sight of his babies dropping out of you. Picking you up and walking to the bathroom now him fully undressing both of you. You and him stepping into the shower feeling the warm water falling down on your skin as you both hug.

“I love you, my princess.” “I love you too, my prince”

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung hard hours #heeseung smut

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mock-arts · 5 months

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part 2/2 of my 2023 cover collection! This one only 75% star wars and 25% sandman. Check out my cover collection tag for big chunks of covers like this, or check out my big bang tag for a bunch of collab'd stuff! idk or do whatever you want!

oh, and happy thanksgiving for my american buds I'm thankful for getting to work with so many cool people

Links and summaries beneath the cut!

2023 cover collection

We'll Meet Again by @littledumplingwrites (art) (with more art by @punkascas)

When Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi is assigned to AgriCorps, he goes to his Creche Master to ask why he hasn’t been assigned to a Service Corps better suited. As a result he’s sent to MediCorps to become a healer. Cue Obi-Wan becoming Ben Kenobi: a master healer and specialized surgeon who does philanthropic MediCorps work on the Outer Rim. It’s hard work, but good work and he enjoys what he does. But when the Clone Wars start, Ben is called away from his humanitarian work to patch up Clone Troopers and Jedi on the battlefield. And once he’s there, he meets a rising star in the Clone Army: one Captain Cody.

Or, Healer-Surgeon Ben Kenobi was called to the war front. And he wasn't too keen on going. What were the Jedi even thinking when they started a war?

That M*A*S*H Star Wars AU that I just couldn't get out of my head, so I wrote it. (However, you do not have to know or have seen MASH to understand this.)

Healer Ben Kenobi, Reporting for Duty by @littledumplingwrites (art) (with podfic by mengde)

Healer Ben Kenobi finishes his surgical work on one battlefield and finds out he has a new assignment: rendezvous with the 212th and work with the clone healers there. This makes Ben a little nervous, because his new boyfriend Major Cody is a part of the 212th and Ben hasn’t heard from him in weeks.

Can the two of them work through their relationship issues, even as the Separatist Droid Army closes in on their position? Can Cody learn to trust someone who isn’t a brother? And can Ben learn to put his partner’s care above his past hurts?

Can be read as a standalone. Also, you do NOT need to know anything about M.A.S.H. to read or enjoy this story.

Bonds of Beskar by @popjeckdoom (art) (with more art by Aliennotperson)

In a universe where the Mandalorian Empire never fell, but changed, Ad’be’alor Kote Vhett faces threats from all sides. His father, Mand’alor Jango Vhett has been cursed into a Majick sleep, and as Tor Vizsla and his supporters tear the Council of Clans apart, Kote is desperate to wake his father and reunite the Empire. In an effort to save his father, and his people, Kote Vhett offers “anything” to the person who can cure his Father’s curse.

Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi may be the person for the job; only one issue--the Jedi have been in hiding for a thousand years, still hunted by Sith and Mandalorians alike. Can he keep his true identity secret long enough to help the Mand'alor... or will events conspire to reveal him before his mission is complete?

Forever; Without Stagnation by @noir-renard (art)

Din and Luke meet on Tatooine. Din and Luke fall in love. Din and Luke get married—

And then the plot catches up.

The Galaxy needs you, says The Force, and Luke believes it.

Din will understand, Luke thinks. It won’t take that long. What is a few years compared to the vow of 'forever'?

Only Blindly Could I Read You by @lillytalons (art) (with more art by @vanisketches

Rex's goal was to get into the organization, get the information, and take it down. Of course, no one had ever successfully infiltrated this empire, and most people had died attempting it, so it was easier said than done. But, the fact that a government agency had also sent in an agent, their best agent, was either a very good or very bad thing. Rex just happened to recognize them, and for some reason, Ben had decided that working together was the best option. What could go wrong?

It's a Sad Song (But We Sing it Anyway) by @ouzoa11-writes (art) (with more art by @impalafortrenchcoats)

Obi-Wan and Cody Kenobi have raised Luke for years and are at the center of the Rebellion when a new threat looms the horizon in the form of a new weapon. The tides seem to turn in their favor, even as they face new challenges along the way.

Or: Obi-Wan and Cody are soulmates who just want to see everyone survive. Their lives from Luke and Leia's nineteenth birthday to a confrontation with Vader alone.

Standalone though it is part of the "We Raise Our Cups To Them" universe

An Epiphany of Poppies Upon the Battlefield by @questing-wulfstan (art)

April 1940, On a French battlefield, Hob Gadling doubts his will to persevere in being alive for the second time of his existence. He swallows morphine in the hope to soothe his horror-scarified mind, and summons a mirage of the stranger who occupied his thoughts as the patron of his immortality. In a Japanese psychiatric ward, Delirium of the Endless is alerted by Dream's irruption in her realm, who she found missing when she sought his company on her quest for the Prodigal. Disappointment overcomes her as she finds it was but an image of her brother conjured by a mortal, and so it does Hob when her eruption dismisses the vision. Delirium will not resign herself to her exponential loss of brothers however, neither will Hob Gadling withhold his aid from any entity in distress, whether the stranger or his younger sister ; they just might hold the might to liberate Morpheus between their four hands ...

The Other Kingdom by @banhus (art)

In 1916, Roderick Burgess successfully summons Death, and Hob Gadling wakes up in the trenches alongside three dead soldiers.

#dreamling #dinluke #codywan #star wars #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #captain rex #din djarin #the mandalorian #luke skywalker #obirex #rexobi #hob gadling #dream of the endless #delirium of the endless #cover collection #collab

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nanaminsmoon · 9 months

Note

what do you think about suburban eren & hood princess reader 🤭 people think that we running shit but in reality and especially behind closed doors it’s a different storyyy + he’s a little mean

heyyy so this took a while because life was really lifeing and girl i wasn't sure how to write it because i'm also from the suburbs in england so i felt like writing about babes from ends wouldn't translate properly. but i hope it's okay lol😭

cw: pnv, fingering, unprotected sex, n word usage, orgasm denial, eren lives with his parents but they're out of the house doing rich people shit idk😭

wc: 1916

”’r-ren, i said i’m-m sorr-rry”, each word you slurred out only left your mouth because eren was fucking you hard enough to knock it out of you. eren’s hips moved quickly, but he was still so deep inside you that you could’ve sworn you could feel him in your damn lungs—his tip slamming all the air out of them. your fingertips desperately tried to grapple at the desk underneath you, as one of eren’s hands wrapped around your throat and the other sat on your hip. the minimal lighting coming from his desk lamp ricocheted off the layer of sweat on your body to illuminate your skin and, any other day, lip shaped patches of moisture would join it. but today was unlike other days, because today was one of the few days where your chill, romantic eren reminded you that he wasn’t a doormat.

”’cause i live in a house like this you think you can keep playin’ with me?”, eren moved his hand from your throat to rub on your clit, and your head fell back to lean on his chest. there was no way you could give him a verbal answer, so you just shook your head furiously.

”hm? i’m too nice to you, you think you can walk all over me? ‘s that it?”, he asked, both his fingers and hips still not letting up. so the aggressive head shaking that followed that question was both in response, and frustration.

”fucking answer me when i speak to you”, his own jaw clenched, just as his grip on yours tightened. and, although eren was making it harder for you to speak with both the way he was fucking you, and the harsh hand on your jaw, you tried your best to whine out an answer,

”n-no”, in which eren would reply with a kiss to his teeth.

from the outside looking in, eren was your bitch. that’s what everyone called him; to your friends, and family, he was your sweet suburban boy that did everything you told him to, with no arguments. he opened doors for you, pulled chairs out for you, bought you gifts, paid for your hair and nails, and spoke to you like you had placed every individual star in the sky. he was harmless in every essence of the word. maybe even too harmless. you knew how to handle yourself, and took no shit from no one, so spectators would assume that you were eren’s protector; if there was a problem, you were the one to solve it for him. for example, sometimes he just didn’t seem to understand that not everywhere was like his gated community, because this boy would walk to the corner store by your house with the sunlight bouncing off his watch, and his chain just swinging in the wind.

”eren, tuck your fucking chain”, you grabbed the gold jewellery, and put it in his shirt, telling him he had to be careful before he got his shit snatched. in response, eren just shrugged and went about his day.

even though they joked about him being helplessly naive, your friends and family loved eren. a big part of the reason was that they knew he would take good care of you and let you do whatever you wanted to do with no questions asked. and you’d agree, jokingly commenting about him being your ‘babygirl’ or about him being ‘submissive’ when he wasn’t around. underline ‘when he wasn’t around’. because eren was everything but passive—he was just reserved. eren let you pretend you ran shit in public, because he enjoyed watching you dig holes for yourself by acting like you had him on a leash when, in reality, you had to beg for his permission just to nut. other people’s opinions didn’t concern him, but what did was your behaviour. because telling people he was your bitch was one thing. but acting like he was, was another.

like at the party you and eren had gone to with your friends. things had been going great until you started shaking ass on who you thought was ymir. but when you went to look back at it, your eyes were met with those of one of your male best friends. of course you pushed him off you but, the relief that it wasn’t some complete stranger meant that you did so very gently. some would say too gently, and too giggly, for a woman with a boyfriend. but the only thing on your mind at the time was going to the bathroom so you really thought nothing of it. you hadn’t even noticed the green eyes burning holes into the side of your face, until their owner’s hand wrapped around your wrist.

”what was that?”, eren pulled you to the side, and your eyes just rolled. you’d been there for far too long, and you just wanted to go to the damn bathroom then go home. the last thing you needed was drama.

”not now, eren. just leave me alone”, you brushed him off, and eren’s hand quickly released your wrist. others would see eren it as conceding, but you knew better than that—he wasn’t done with you, you’d just have to deal with him later. but that was later you’s problem, so current you was just going to live her best life. that attitude made for an interaction between you and your man that your friend found to be particularly hilarious,

”bitch, i wish my man would listen to me like that.”, she joked, and you laughed back at her.

”right, don’t you just love an obedient nigga?”, you had joked back. of course eren heard everything, but he’d just scoff and head to the door to leave.

even though he opened your car door for you, once you got in the car, eren did not speak a word to you. even as you’d steal glances at him and stroke his thigh, or shoulder, or arm, or cheek, he’d remain stone-faced and keep his eyes on the road. when you finally got back to his house, his silence would persist as he walked you to the door, before taking his shoes off and making his way to his room. he’d left you at the door, so you had to follow after him, with an exhausted scowl on your face. and once you got to his room, you decided to be the bigger person and speak to him first.

”eren, i grew up with him. you need to chill the fuck out”, you yawned, walking over to him. but he’d just scoff at you before his hand would be on your jaw. even still, your mask imitating an unphased expression would not fall. despite the pool of arousal in your underwear at the sudden movement.

”who you tellin’ to chill?”, he spoke lowly, eyes locked with yours. your heart was starting to race, but you wouldn’t back down.

”you. now what?”, those were the words that placed you in the position you were in now; your orgasm denied five times, as your toes painfully dug into your slippers. the van cleef necklace he had bought you slapped into your chest over and over again, as you moaned out his name and ignored apologies. you were forced to endure all of this because eren felt like you weren’t sorry enough. meanwhile, he had already cum once, and he was nearing his second. your pleasure had always been eren’s priority, but today you were just a cocksleeve to him. and he was happy keeping it that way.

begging and pleading for eren to go slower, or be more gentle with you did nothing because he’d just maintain his pace. eren loved you more than he loved himself, so he hated fucking you in a way that insinuated otherwise. but his mind wouldn’t stop replaying what happened at the party; the way that guy touched you, the way you laughed with him as if eren wasn’t literally right there, and the way you made him out to be your lap dog. all that anger travelled to the place where you two connected, and he didn’t realise how hard he was fucking you until he felt his dick twitch inside you.

”i’m gonna cum—”, he groaned onto the space between your neck and shoulder, finally giving it a small kiss. the lewd sounds of skin meeting haphazardly would repeat three more times before it’d cut out, only to be replaced by the sounds falling from your boyfriend’s mouth as he filled you with his seed. he’d stay still so his dick could act as the plug that kept all his nut inside you. confused, and on the brink of getting your own release, you’d just start moving to fuck yourself on his dick. it took eren a few seconds to realise what was happening before he’d hold your hips still, and pull out of you.

”’ren, what about me?”, you cooed, but it all fell on deaf ears as eren was too focused on using his middle and ring finger to collect any dripping nut, to push it back inside you. your entrance practically sucked his fingers inside you, and he wouldn’t fight it. instead curling his fingers and hitting the spot he knew would cause your undoing.

”what about you?”, he chuckled into your ear, kissing and sucking at the lobe. before he’d bite it, earning a wince from your parted lips, ”obedient, yeah? i’m obedient?”, he said in a low taunt.

”y-yeah, you are”, after all that apologising you’d just been doing, eren was surprised to see you being this rebellious. especially towards the same man who was stroking your release with his fingers. that was the same man who reached another hand around to rub your clit again, and started smirking at you tightening around his fingers, signalling your release.

”shit, ‘ren, i’m cumminngg”, you cried out, as your back arched against him.

”hmm”, he pouted, stamping one final gentle kiss on your shoulder before speaking again, ”well then”, were his words as he removed his hands from you.

”what’re you doing?”, you turned to him to see a shit-eating grin on his face. eren hadn’t just robbed your orgasm from you, he had let you get a taste of it, before pulling away when you needed him to continue most. it was like lighting a firework, then throwing a net on it just as it was air bound.

”you asked me to leave you alone, so i’m being obedient and leaving you alone”, he smirked, kissing your temple. he could see the anger growing on your face, and that kiss wasn’t meant to calm it, it was meant to feed it.

”eren, i wanna cum. please”, you pleaded, tears almost falling from your eyes. eren would take one look at you, before he’d start pretending to think about it. the charade ultimately ending in an annoying shrug.

”find an obedient suburban boy to take care of it”, he took a pause to yawn, before pulling his boxers and jeans up, and falling onto his bed, ”i’m tired.”

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #eren smut #aot eren

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peachesfather · 5 months

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Can you mizu with a healer fem reader thats in lonfon and very jealous of taigen?? I want it very fluffy but also smutty if ur ok with it :) please and thank uu

thanks for this request !!

Doing way too much

mizu x black fem! reader blue eye samurai

warning:+18, smut, fluffy, fingering, bad grammar, suggestive language, and jealous mizu is a way to put it.

I was the best healer in my store in London, i get a lots of praise from how good i am at healing people's wounds, the pay was very good for me and my mother who were very poor.

I swept the floor with a broom while listening to some jams on the radio, i signed and humed to the music, i heard the door open and paid it no mind at all i just continued to clean. i was abrupt by someone in front of me with their eyes being blue as the ocean but had a no emotion face along with someone else with them but he staring at my potions.

"what do you need?" i looked at his tall figure and waited for a response but no reply so i put my hand on their shoulder to tell them to reply for their request.

He snatched my hand from their shoulder and squezzed it very hard, i hissed and told them to stop.

"I just need to be heal thats fucking it, and also need resources for my travel" she let go of me and i basically rolled my eyes at her behavior. "You couldve just said that and not squeezed my fingers." i said while still being angry at this customer. (bby got issues wrong bitch tho)

"okay, sit in this chair please sir" he gave the other man who came along with him a sword and came my way to sit down in the chair. The guy who was holding the sword was looking me up and down while bitting his lips. i ignored him and shown eye contact towards the blue eyed man in front of me.

"Where does it hurt?" He pointed to where their gut is so meaning to where the injury is there. I closed my eyes to see if the energy of the wound could be healed, water has appeared on the gut to clean throughout and he hiss in the healing process, i patch him up. "you're finally done, that would be $50" he put the money in my hand and stared at me for few seconds and then snatched the sword from the other guy, "i be outside Taigen, grabbed the other resources for our travel" she put her glasses back on her face and left my store, the other grabbed the stuff he was told to buy.

"is that all?' he just stared at my face and told him again "IS THAT ALL SIR YOU STARING UP THE STORM" his eyes widned and laughed at my outburst. “You’re so cute what’s your name?” He said while staring behind the counter at my ass.

“Okay, I give you my name, it’s y/n.” I blushed and facepalm at how cringe of how I falling for this bullshit, I noticed a couple glances from the window outside the store, it was the guy who I healed he looked angry and pissed must be because of this fella right here, I think he’s talking himself or flirting idk what bro is still here for.

“The cost is $100, do you have it?” He paused and stopped talking about whatever mess he was going on about, he smiled and started to look in his pockets for his money or changes.

Me, being the nicest person that I’m going to be and letting this nigga off with his resources to getting out of my store, I told him he doesn’t need to pay for it under one condition is telling him and his friend to come over to my place for a meal.

He quickly agreed and said “yes, now we can get to know each other in a better way” he rubbing his fingers together while licking his lips I was disgusted but happy at the same time because he was leaving my store, I gave the guy outside a wink. He scoffed and looked away instantly. (I need her so badly don’t play to get pookie)

When the clock hits 5 pm, I was already done cooking curry chicken and rice for my guests, I clean the table and put the table cloth on to be proper.

I heard a knock on my door I was guessing it was them, taigen was smiling like he had done a whole crime while being very sketchy, he was nicely dressed with his hair down. However, for the mysterious man he was still in his old clothes doesn’t make him unattractive but he could’ve done something to spark his appearance. His eyes on the other has drew more attention.

He catches my glances and looked away in annoyance. I signed and ask his name because i wanted to get know him better. He looked me in the eye and said “my name is Mizu”

That’s a cute name awee” I said that brought me and him in awkward silence until taigen grabbed my chin to rizz me up or whatever saying “ma, you look good tonight in them jeans and showing your figure very nicely.

I kinda blushed at him complimenting my body, his way of words were blinding from getting to know mizu. Taigen gave mizu no emotion face that became a snickering expression towards him to letting know that he trying to get to have me. Mizu smirked and smiled at him for being too foolish.

We was eating the curry chicken and rice at the table, taigen was tearing my food up and said It is good and wanted seconds. I gotten up just to give him more.

Mizu was looking me up and down from knee from how my jeans looked on me, she squeezed her thighs and looked at taigen who was staring back at her already.

“Aye, stop looking at her she is going to be mine, bitches like her cannot resist me.” Taigen said while crossing his hands by giggling at how easy you are. However, Mizu was disgusted of how he talking about you , even though she barely knows anything about me to care.

I came back to table so happy about someone being grateful about my cooking. Taigen grabbed the plate from me and said thank you. Mizu was staring into my soul, I was confused but I sat down and looked at taigen finishing his second plate of curry chicken.

“Y/n, yo if I was your man bro I wouldn’t never disrespect how bad of cook you is” he said while staring at mizu then laughed at how fucked mizu looked.

“You wanna be my man? Well, you must want to take good care of me” I said while lovey dovey staring at him

“I take care of that ass of yours real good” he said while chewing. Mizu started to shake the table and ask to go where to bathroom. I told him that it is upstairs I got up and walked himself to the bathroom.

She stops mid way, it made me confused until she grabbed me and push closed the door in the bathroom.

“What the heck mizu” I was pushed against the wall and was held by my hands from mizu who showing no emotion to the situation of having me like this.

“You want to stay quiet or what, I know you want me all this time you fucking brat” she stare at my face who was resisting her touch.

“I need you so badly please..” you said while bringing your hands to her hands to guide her to you hips, she grabbed a chunk of your ass and lean in to kiss your lips that had lipstick onto them.

“You don’t know how much I have done to get to fuck you like this” she said holding onto me while locking eyes with me I stare back with her with a nervously smile.

She slip her hand in my jeans while standing up with spreading me out with her fingers, I grasp and moans “. fuckkk..mm mizu your fingers” I was literally dripping mess under her. Me and her touched heads while she fingered me at a quick pace while she laughing at me.

I screamed in my hand while she thrust her fingers in out of me out one last time. I wrap my hands around her neck to give her lips a peck, she snickered and kiss me back. We sat in comfortable silence till leaving the bathroom together.

Okay, this was very bad you guys can diss this onee !!

#lesbian #black lesbian #lesbian smut #black reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu smut #mizu x reader #mizu bes #taigen #wlw smut #blue eye samurai #mizu come home the kids miss you #mizu x akemi #mizu x y/n #bes x reader

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ohmigoshiloveu · 3 months

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The Queen definitely dominated Shilo a lot, like we can all agree on that, right? That’s what normalized casually upending people’s free will to Shilo.

I’m just curious how far she took it. Shilo was capable of leaving his room and the castle, but was that because The Queen didn’t want to dominate him to never leave, or because that would’ve been a safety hazard? While Shilo was growing up did she dominate him whenever he wanted to stay up past bedtime? Whenever he didn’t want to eat his dinner yet? Whenever he asked one too many times to see the outside world, read new books, to have a friend? Did she dominate away tantrums, dominate him into sitting still for portraits, dominate him into apologizing after arguments?

Did she use her discipline to skip over all the times a normal parent would discipline their child or adapt to their needs? She’s an old, old creature, and grew up in a very different era, it might not have even seemed wrong to her, exactly, just a useful trick that let her speedrun parenting because she knew what was best for Shilo even if it deprived him of every opportunity to be a person.

Did that extend out to Jeffrey (assuming he’s actually their dad and not like, some guy that The Queen dumped Emizel on to hide him and just dominated into believing that he was Emizel’s father), back whenever they were dating/whatever the fuck led them to fuck? Did she dominate away rough patches, rewrite his memories of plans when something came up and she knew she couldn’t make it?

Did she ghoulify him?

Think about it. She’s this great, wise, powerful Queen of all vampires with enemies around every corner, and then she falls in love/?lust? with this frail, vulnerable human. He’s a weak spot that can be exploited, a hole in her armor, and that puts him in danger. His first line of defense seemed to be secrecy, but why not have his second line of defense be a bunch of blood points to use at will? Ghouls are stronger, heal faster, and even have limited use of disciplines! Heck, if she love loved him, then she’d be extending his lifespan so they could be together for all eternity, at the low low cost of his free will and independence. But hey, it’s not like he didn’t already love her, right?

I’m not sure what would’ve had to have changed for her to have cut contact with Jeffrey and Emizel, especially since she clearly didn’t learn any lessons because she still raised Shilo to be the way he is, but like. I just want you to imagine Jeffrey slowly transitioning out of being a ghoul once he’s cut off from The Queen’s blood, slowly realizing what happened, slowly realizing he’d had a kid while under a blood bond and all the fucked up shit that entails, and then having to wake up everyday and look at Emizel and be reminded of it all.

If he stayed away from The Queen under a level 3 blood bond then she probably explicitly told him to do so, maybe even dominated him into doing it, so even just taking care of Emizel might’ve been by her orders, and as he de-ghoulified he was actively choosing to continue to follow the last orders given to him by someone who put him through all of that. That might’ve strained his relationship with his son, just a little bit.

Idk if Charlie would’ve made things that dark, but I still doubt dating The Queen of a society that sees people as walking talking buffets went super well for Jeffrey.

#jrwi the suckening #the suckening #jrwi the queen #jrwi jeffrey #at the very least she probably altered his memories of her and what she was #and definitely is spying on him without his knowledge #considering the fact that all of her updates come from a cat and not Jeffrey himself #like Shilo found REPORTS in that vault not letters #she’s like shilo but even worse and I’m so freaking here for that #jrwi #jrwi theory #suckening thoughts

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satorhime · 2 years

Text

˚‧ ✰ ˓ ˖ AITA FOR FUCKING MY SON’S GIRLFRIEND? aka me randomly thinking about how fanon!toji in some fics would be one of those guys to post in AITA on reddit for validation 😭

my son [21M] and i [43M] have always had tension. its probably because i left when he was a kid and he was raised by my enemy [34M] but since then we've been trying to patch up our relationship through phone conversations and occasional meetups. my son's got all of my looks and none of my game, but he managed to pull a girl way out of his league. i've met her once or twice and she's a sweet lil thing, too fuckin' hot for that little runt of mine. so 'cause my son and his girl are trying to get a house in the city, he asks if they can stay with me for a while. get their money up. i agreed. i got a pretty big place and i thought it'd be cool.

wrong. my son's girlfriend is a fuckin' minx. always walking around in short skirts and tempting me by bending over in front of me while i'm just trying to watch the fuckin' game. handing me my beers when i don’t ask for them and complimenting me on my muscles after i come home from the gym. i put distance for a while, but here's where i might be TA: so one night while my son's asleep, i gotta take a piss and i go to my bathroom but she's already in there doing a skincare routine or whatever tf girls do to keep their skin shiny and shit. i'm about to apologize and take a piss outside but she says that i can come in, we're family now, etc etc. so i'm taking a piss right and she's doing her skincare shit. she's just chatting like we're old friends, then she says she sees where megs got his good looks, that i'm hot for an old guy, etc etc. then as i'm about to put my dick away and get tf out of there, she grabs it. says she wants me. and c'mon, what am i supposed to do? not get my dick wet just because she's my son's girlfriend? funny. so we fuck. hand over her mouth and shit. telling her she deserves a real man, not that rugrat snoring in my guest bedroom rn. and then i send her back to bed. walking all funny and skincare routine not even complete. idk reddit i feel like i'm TA bc i’m trying to patch my rs up with my son and be a good dad . i also told my buddies and they said i'm a dick for fucking his hot little gf so reddit, AITA? should i tell my son?

#a story by toji ♡#I’M SO UNSERIOUS SKSKSKSKSKSKS #all of the comments would be flaming the shit out of him #this is satire btw 😭😭😭

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genericpuff · 6 months

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Omg hiiii, I absolutely love Rekindled! You're so talented, and the story you're making for Persephone is so intriguing! A lot more than whatever trashfire Lore Olympus has become.

That being said, what was the moment you stopped liking LO Persephone? Have you always disliked her, or was it gradual? Or just a specific moment that made you go "yeaaaaah.. she's not it ;-;"

(And bonus question if I can ask, but how do you draw hands?? I hate them with a passion, but unfortunately hands are pretty necessary T^T)

aahhh thank you so much!!!

honestly, I was a pretty big fan of LO up until the trial arc. Like, you've all seen me hate this comic with a fiery passion, but the only reason I'm able to do that is because before I hated this comic, I loooved this comic. I'd literally be counting down the hours until new updates, I loved the art, and I was too smitten by the appeal of the series to notice its writing problems, I just loved the romantic drama and the H x P ship, and yes, I loved Persephone, I loved her design, her personality, and I felt so 'seen' by her struggles, both with her trying to pave a path for herself and the SA plotline. I was even (regrettably) one of those people who would lurk in the antiLO tags and think "wow, these people are dumb, can't they see how brilliantly written this is ?? they're nitpicking!"

But then the trial arc happened which involved writing a plot that didn't put the romance front and center anymore - now that Rachel had to actually write something complex and logic-driven, the blinders started to fall off and I went wait... maybe Rachel doesn't know what she's doing. Persephone choosing her own lawyer? And it's Hades, one of the judges? Why are they suddenly establishing Thanatos as Hades' adoptive son? I'm not a lawyer, but I know that's not how any of this works and it really tipped me off that something was amiss, that Persephone was having all of her solutions conveniently handed to her on a platter and all of the other characters were suddenly being made to look like assholes just to make Hades and Persephone the heroes.

And then... Eris happened.

See, one of the things I loved most in the story was Persephone's character arc concerning the Act of Wrath. I write stories about characters with dark "personas" all of the time. So it was something I had frame of reference for, I really loved the premise of Persephone earning her name through this act of violence and while it was dashed with the opening of S2 revealing it was "all an accident", I was excited to see how the trial arc would bring about new information and confirm who was telling the truth about what "really happened" with the Act of Wrath. If the courtroom drama wasn't gonna be realistic, I could at least hope for some good 'OBJECTION!' reveal that would finally put to rest once and for all what really happened, and maybe Kore would finally embrace this 'dark side' she had.

So for the actual twist to suddenly reveal itself as... 'actually, this one goddess we've never mentioned before blessed you with wrath. why? idk she just did. anyways she's the reason you have wrath and that's what made you commit the act of wrath. problem solved.'

And that was where the twisting of 'faith' happened. When I went through the subconscious realization of , "Oh no, Rachel doesn't know what she's doing and it took me this long to notice. Oh no, maybe those antiLO freaks had a point-"

That said, there was a glimmer of hope in the midseason finale. Persephone was sentenced to remain in the Mortal Realm to carry out her mother's duties and I thought, "great! This will be Persephone's Rocky moment! She'll have to prove herself without the help of Demeter or Hades! This is gonna be awesome!!" During the hiatus, I was VERY excited to see where the story was going, I still had so much hope and I figured the mishandling of the trial arc was just a bump in the road. The series was still good, it was just going through a rough patch, these things happen.

And then it came back and it all went downhill from there. There was a 10 year time skip with very little insight as to what happened. Minthe and Daphne were just suddenly back to normal. They were referencing some food shortage or terrible event that happened during Persephone's reign that they never explained in explicit detail. And now, all of a sudden, Persephone was just returning to the Underworld, where Kronos had suddenly taken over. I had cautious optimism but throughout it, I was really seeing the cracks that were already forming opening wide. A lot of what I had to say wasn't positive anymore, I literally couldn't understand what the reasoning was behind these writing decisions and I couldn't find myself rooting for Persephone anymore, everything just seemed to convenient and easy for her to make her seem like the "strong and confident" character the comic claimed her to be.

The S2 finale was my breaking point and I think it was for a lot of other people too. That was pretty much where my 'transformation' from passionate stan to passionate critic happened, and it happened alongside the creation of the UnpopularLoreOlympus subreddit which would become my new 'home' within the community. After seeing how much the story had gone downhill, it made me realize in hindsight just how awful and one-note Persephone is, how she really never cared about anyone but herself and Hades, how her mother did, actually, have a point about her being practically groomed into a relationship with a billionaire slave driver, how she was very intentionally drawn to look like a child in ways I couldn't believe I had never noticed before, the list of "awakenings" goes on. And it sucked! It sucked to have that realization that the thing I loved wasn't just imperfect, but incredibly problematic in its writing and art choices. And just like when I loved the comic, I couldn't just let go of it, I had to understand to some degree why this happened.

It happened because Persephone was always being written as a one-note, easy to project onto self-insert character. A Wattpad protagonist. Not an actual representation of the Goddess of Spring, but a blank slate for the creator and the fans to imagine themselves as purely for the power fantasy of hooking up with a rich and abusive guy.

That was when I made my first piece of LO art intended to be an 'edit' - a redraw of Persephone's rebirth as the Dread Queen from the S2 finale, an ode to the Persephone I was hoping to see but never got. The rest from there is history.

youtube

I know I'm being SUPER dramatic about it but this was literally how it felt to go through the realization that this comic - and its characters - wasn't as good as I thought it was, and I think that's a sentiment that's shared by a lot of the 'haters' in this community. LO was a big part of my life and even some of my friendships with people, so when it went downhill, it felt like such a hit to the gut. It's still a big part of my life, albeit in the opposite direction, but I still wonder sometimes over the "what ifs", what if the series hadn't turned out this way? What if I had never realized its flaws? Rekindled is basically a love letter to those what ifs, satisfying the feelings I never got to keep with LO, and giving me a reason to count down the hours on Saturday nights again. I'm glad it's made that same impact for others, too <3

#lmao this turned into some really deep catharsis post #i never explained how to draw hands #i'll make a post about that in a bit lmaooo #this is what happens when i'm given free reign in my blog posts #i go off way too much JFDKASLFJDKSLA #but it's a story i like to tell because it reminds me why i do all this to begin with #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #ask me anything

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morningberriesao3 · 2 months

Text

Guys,

I just hit HALF A MILLION WORDS published on my AO3. It feels surreal?!?!?!? that I wrote that many words, and also a huge accomplishment as someone who picks up hobbies and abandons them before seeing them through LOL

Anyway, huge shoutout to everyone who reads my work, especially those who leave kudos and comments, and those who like and reblog here on tumblr, too. I’ve made a lot of friendships bc of this fandom and fic writing, and it’s been such a fulfilling hobby to fill my free time. (End Oscars speech)

Anyway, below the cut is an excerpt from my most recent fic, Love the Way It Hurts So Deep which is a part 2 to Hate the Way It Feels So Good. I mean, I posted it as a second chapter instead of it’s own fic, but it’s 17K words and was supposed to stand alone initially.

CW: enemies to lovers but they’re ACTUALLY enemies, a lot of dub con content even though i promise they both want what’s happening more than anything, violence, spit kinks, maybe even blood kinks?!?!? idk just think of all the sadist and masochist shit and stuff it into this fic and that’s what it is.

18+ only

For the hundredth time tonight, Eddie trails his eyes over Steve in appreciation. But his soul is shining through his irises again, and there’s something else hiding inside of him that Steve can’t put his finger on. “You gonna tell me who put their hands on you now?”

“No.” Steve shakes out his fuzzy head, tries to push through the fog inside of it. “I mean, you don’t know them. Seriously.”

“Them?”

Steve stares into Eddie’s face as his features crumple within it. A million different emotions flutter on it, but it ultimately lands on something that looks like outrage.

“They won’t bother me again,” Steve says, because he has the urge to calm Eddie down. Make him feel better—even though he wasn’t the one who was tortured in a secret Russian base. His words seem to work, just a little, as Eddie bites back whatever it was he was going to say, and starts to pull his boxers back off. “Why? Are you jealous?”

Steve snaps his lips shut a little too late, the question falling out of him before he has the chance to realize he doesn’t really want to ask it.

Eddie pauses for a few long seconds, his boxers shoved halfway down his thighs. His eyes tick up to Steve’s, rimmed in wide white, making them seem too large for his face. “Yes, Steve, I’m jealous.”

It sounds like sarcasm.

He kicks off his shorts, his hands rubbing the tight skin under his navel, then the patch of hair that Steve wants to bury himself in, then down to his balls. His fingers wrap around them, give them a tug.

Steve stares unabashed—he figures Eddie’s doing it for his sake, anyway. Touching himself—putting himself on display—so he can watch the way Steve turns dumb and the way his cock leaks against his abdomen. Proof that he’s too wildly affected by just Eddie’s presence, just the visuals, just the thought of their bodies rolling together.

His lips get loose again, like the Truth Serum is back in his system. “Because you care about me?”

The muscles feather on Eddie’s jawline. He slowly crawls onto the bed, between Steve’s legs. He hovers there, not quite low enough for their bodies to touch the way Steve wants, but his hair fans around the sides of Steve’s face as he cranes his neck down.

“Because I fucking hate you.” Eddie’s hand is suddenly around Steve’s neck, squeezing against his airways tight enough that Steve’s grip flounders against the blankets, enough that he gasps in shock, but also for the air that is evading him. “You made my life a living hell, Harrington. I’m jealous because I should have been the one to make you bleed.”

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sherifftillman · 11 months

Text

Happy to Help

Pairing: Keys x f!Reader Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI) Word count: 3.7k Summary: Forgetting you'd spoken to customer support from your favourite game leads to something getting sent to the wrong person. A/N: Listen, I know there's a set-up for potentially more. I would like to write potentially more. But nothing puts a writer off more than demands for a part 2, okay? For now, enjoy my first ever Keys fic. :)

Welcome to Free City Customer Support. We appreciate your patience. Connecting you to a member of our team…

Keys: Hi there! What seems to be the problem today?

You: hi, my screen is like. frozen dead. can't do anything, can't click anything. can't alt-tab out, can't ctrl-alt-delete. but i made a lot of progress between save points and idk if it can still be salvaged

Keys: Oof, yeah, that's the worst. Hopefully we can get you back up and running. Real quick, are you sure it's not your internet? I mean, you seem like you know your way around a computer, just worth double-checking, if it's your network then there's not a lot I can do.

You: yeah, sorry, should have added that. everything else that connects to my internet is working. i have an error message if that helps?

Keys: Yes! That's amazing! Can you send me it, please?

You: it says "error 72816: attempting patch repair"

You: there was a spinning buffering wheel in the corner but it gave up the ghost about twenty minutes ago.

Keys: Interesting. I don't remember making that error message, let alone what would trigger it. Are you sure that's what it says? No typos?

You: you wound me.

You: jk jk sorry this is a Very Professional Customer Support Exchange. no, definitely no typos.

Keys: Hahaha, don't worry, I've read far worse messages from people today, that made me laugh!

Keys: This is a little unorthodox but I'm wracking my brain here and I can't think of another solution. If I give you my work phone number, would you text me a photo of your screen?

Keys: Usually, I'd ask for an email of a screenshot, but, well…

You: yeah sure, whatever gets me out of this purgatory.

Keys: Super appreciate your patience here. My number is:

Keys: [redacted]

Keys: Okay, got it, deleted the message with my number so it won't show up in chat history, in case you're wondering. Data protection and all.

You: the professional techie guy with the techie-ass nickname being cautious about cyber security? groundbreaking.

Keys: Haha! You got me there!

Keys: Oh! Wait! Are you registered as a beta tester?

You: no?? i didn't know that was a thing??

Keys: Yeah, all ours are internal and I don't recognise your username in our database, now that I've pulled it up. I think you must have just slipped through the cracks, let me look into the code of our new test area and see if I can boot you back out.

You: ooh, are you gonna come bursting in through my door with a swat team to erase my memory, too?

Keys: I'm just a "professional techie guy" here, not a Man In Black, haha.

Keys: Hey, I see you!

Keys: In this code, I mean.

Keys: It's showing up that there's an unauthorized player.

Keys: That's what I meant.

You: well yeah, didn't think you were in my walls or anything

Keys: Just making sure! Didn't want you really thinking I was stalking you or anything.

Keys: Still don't remember making that error message, but that's another mystery, I guess.

You: ooh, maybe the game's becoming sentient and it's outgrowing us all!

Keys: There's that imagination again!

Keys: I'm gonna reset your position to your safehouse, hopefully also keeping your progress intact? If this doesn't work then a hard reboot is unfortunately the only other way.

You: you're a doll.

You: AHHHH IT WORKED I'M BACK AND I STILL GOT A SICK ASS BIKE WAITING FOR ME IN MY GARAGE

You: THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHHHHH

Keys: Pleasure's all mine, glad I could help. Please reach out if it happens again! Or if you have any other issues!

You: will do. so long, techie guy. thanks for everything!

Keys: Happy playing!

— — — —

It's been a relatively quiet Friday evening for you. Nobody's made any plans to go out, and you're unsure yourself whether you have the energy to. You've pretty much spent your whole day gaming, so you should probably fill your social battery a little, but do you really want to go to a bar by yourself?

You glance over at your phone and smirk at it. There is that guy you've been talking to… Maybe you'll send him something to spice the night up.

Once you've done your hair and make-up to add to the whole look, you find your cutest set of underwear, put it on and take a couple of selfies until there's one you're especially pleased with. Your muscle memory has you tapping three message contacts down, where he always is since you've been texting friends all day, and sending the photo on autopilot with the message: Hey, you.

You giggle with delight when your phone chimes almost immediately after - you've really got this guy whipped, huh - but are surprised to see you've apparently forgotten who else you texted today.

[8:23pm] Keys: OH

[8:23pm] Keys: OH NO

[8:23pm] Keys: I think

[8:23pm] Keys: You've sent this

[8:24pm] Keys: To the wrong person

[8:24pm] Keys: I'm so sorry I saw that!

[8:25pm] You: that's okay, i don't mind that you saw it. :)

[8:25pm] You: besides, burning the midnight oil, still being at your work phone?! don't they have out of hours customer service?

[8:29pm] Keys: I… Might have lied about this being my work phone. I normally have one, but it's getting fixed so I thought I would get away with saying it was a work line to help you out.

[8:30pm] You: and then i went and accidentally sent you an unsolicited lewd. sorry.

[8:36pm] Keys: It was just a shock, is all!

[8:38pm] You: well, since we're both here, and since you haven't deleted the photo yet despite how quickly you deleted your number from the chat log earlier, *and* how long it's taking you to reply, what do you think?

[8:40pm] Keys: Oh god, you're so right, I'm so sorry, I'll delete it now.

[8:40pm] You: don't!

[8:40pm] You: like i said, i want your feedback on it now.

[8:41pm] Keys: Oh! Well, it's very nice.

[8:41pm] You: nice?! ouuuuch.

[8:42pm] Keys: What do you mean? Nice is a compliment!

[8:43pm] You: yeah, from your grandma when you've given her a birthday card. c'mon, i can take it. tell me what you REALLY think. :)

[8:50pm] Keys: I… I think you're very attractive.

[8:51pm] You: there you go! it's super adorable that you're stammering over text, btw.

[9:01pm] Keys: [image attached]

[9:01pm] Keys: It felt weirdly unbalanced that you at least didn't know what I looked like, too.

[9:02pm] You: well damn, no wonder they call you keys, because you are just my *type!*

[9:02pm] You: get it?

[9:03pm] Keys: …That was cheesy as hell.

[9:03pm] Keys: But I like cheese :]

[9:03pm] You: oh yeah? give me your cheesiest pick-up line

[9:13pm] Keys: Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're CuTe!

[9:13pm] You: i award that 🧀🧀🧀/5. you could be cheesier.

[9:19pm] Keys: Okay, fine.

[9:20pm] Keys: Are you Google? Because you have everything I'm searching for.

[9:22pm] You: 🧀🧀🧀🧀. are YOU google because i'm feeling lucky. ultimate cheese has no comeback. c'mon, you're so close.

[9:26pm] Keys: Oof, okay, give me a sec.

[9:28pm] Keys: Although really you should never use Google if you can help it, they already datamine so much information out of you that the less you use any Google product, the safer you are. I use DuckDuckGo myself, but you should really do your own research when it comes to cybersecurity rather than just blindly trust someone, even if they are a professional.

[9:28pm] You: keys.

[9:29pm] Keys: Right. Sorry.

[9:38pm] Keys: If you were a grade, you'd be A+, because I want to take you home and show you to my parents.

[9:39pm] You: okay, that wins. maximum cheese for keys 🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀

[9:39pm] You: next ranking category: 🌶️

[9:39pm] You: let's see what you got, hot stuff

[9:45pm] Keys: What?! I can't just send you stuff like that! That's so forward!

[9:46pm] You: keys you've seen my tits

[9:46pm] You: i think we're past that

[9:55pm] Keys: Accidentally!

[9:55pm] You: and all the time you spend scrolling back up to it is "accidental", too?

[9:56pm] Keys: …How could you tell?

[9:57pm] You: every now and then you take a little bit longer between messages. just assuming you're scrolling up lol

[9:56pm] You: like i keep saying. i don't mind at all. you don't have to be shy around me

[9:58pm] Keys: Well, since all my cards are apparently on the table so obviously…

[9:58pm] Keys: Do you work at Subway? Because you just gave me a foot-long.

[9:59pm] You: ????? talk about 0-60! also i think that deserves negative 🌶️ for the psychic damage it caused me to read

[10:00pm] Keys: You just turned my software into hardware.

[10:00pm] You: what happened to "that's so forward", eh?

[10:01pm] You: but, credit where it's due, 🌶️🌶️. normally a 🌶️ but from you it's like a 2.5/5

[10:01pm] Keys: Your outfit would look great on my bedroom floor.

[10:01pm] You: oh

[10:02pm] You: oh my god

[10:02pm] You: oh you sweet boy, you're googling them, aren't you

[10:02pm] You: or whatever you use instead

[10:04pm] Keys: Some of us need the extra help! We're not all as smooth as you.

[10:04pm] You: sure you are, baby, you just need to get comfortable

[10:05pm] Keys: But I'm already on my bed!

[10:05pm] You: not just in that way! try taking something off

[10:06pm] You: and then send me proof 😇

[10:11pm] Keys: [image attached]

[10:11pm] Keys: ;]

[10:12pm] You: taking off your glasses doesn't count, dork!

[10:12pm] Keys: [image attached]

[10:12pm] Keys: like this?

[10:13pm] You: holy fuck

[10:13pm] You: hi you're hot

[10:14pm] Keys: Hahaha, thank you? I still don't feel any more charismatic, though!

[10:15pm] You: well, going back to your line about being like a good grade you wanna take home… does that maybe mean you also want to pin me up on the fridge?

[10:18pm] Keys: Well, the fridge isn't very sturdy. I think I'd rather do that against the wall.

[10:18pm] You: okay now *that’s* hot

[10:18pm] You: and what would you do with me once you'd pinned me to the wall?

[10:24pm] Keys: I'm not very good at all of the imaginative talk stuff that sounds sexy. Even using the word seems like the total opposite of what I'm trying to do.

[10:25pm] You: not at all, sometimes bluntness is the sexiest thing of all.

[10:29pm] Keys: Well, I'd really like to kiss you. All over, actually.

[10:29pm] You: *all* over?

[10:31pm] Keys: Yeah. The way you were posing made your neck look amazing.

[10:32pm] Keys: Oh god, now I sound like a vampire

[10:34pm] You: i promise you don't, that was my intention when i took it lol. besides, vampires are sexy as hell. i'd love it if you kissed my neck

[10:34pm] You: would you touch me?

[10:35pm] Keys: Wouldn't I be holding you against the wall?

[10:36pm] You: true, but there's other ways. like, you could put your leg between mine to keep me in place

[10:37pm] You: mmm, and then i could grind against your thigh while you keep this little promise of kissing and touching me *all over*

[10:37pm] You: does that sound good?

[10:41pm] Keys: Oh god yes

[10:43pm] You: and then that leaves my hands free to touch you, too. i wanna play connect the dots with those cute little moles of yours

[10:47pm] Keys: Oh my god

[10:48pm] Keys: that made me want to trace them myself for some reason and that felt so good

[10:49pm] You: you're touching yourself AND not paying attention to grammar anymore? for lil ol' me?

[10:49pm] You: that deserves a reward, i think

[10:51pm] You: [image attached]

[10:51pm] You: i seem to have lost my bra, come over and help me find it?

[10:58pm] Keys: holy shit

[10:58pm] Keys: can i just say what i'm thinking and then you can tell me if i'm going to far

[10:59pm] You: i think you mean *too, nerd boy, but yes, i'd love that

[11:06pm] Keys: sorry typing is getting difficult at the moment

[11:11pm] Keys: i want to hold them so bad. they look amazing, especially with your nipples so hard

[11:11pm] You: when you say typing is difficult, are you touching yourself right now?

[11:12pm] You: because now i'm playing with my nipples and wishing it was you

[11:13pm] You: tell me, baby. you want me to rub them? squeeze them? you wanna come over and suck on them?

[11:17pm] Keys: i want to feel them get hard. want to touch them while i kiss you

[11:17pm] You: attaboy! i knew you had it in you

[11:19pm] You: they're so sensitive now. and humping my pillow as if it’s your leg isn't enough, can i touch myself for you, please?

[11:23pm] Keys: oh god yes please do

[11:23pm] You: are you okay to call? i have a feeling both of us are getting preoccupied now

Your phone lights up with the name "Keys Freecity" and you immediately put it on speaker, letting the phone rest on your pillow next to you. "Well, hey there."

"Uh, hi." His voice is shaking and his breath is hitching.

"You know, you never told me if you were touching yourself or not," you point out.

"I - I am," he stammers out, and you purr back.

"God, I wish I was there to do that for you. Or at least to watch. I bet you look so fucking good right now. What are you thinking about, then, huh?"

"I was, uh… Thinking, about… The way you look up in those photos… And…" He falters out, but you hear the faintest groan, still.

"Aw, you want me to suck you off, baby?" You tease. "Thinking about me looking up at you? My lips wrapped around your cock? Mmm, I bet it's so big I can barely fit, huh?"

"I… I mean, it's not the sandwich I promised earlier, but… It's definitely bigger than… Average," Keys explains, and you don't hold back on the moan that hearing that news elicits from you.

You still laugh softly at his joke. "Yeah, I could tell, baby. Fuck, when are you coming over and splitting me in half already?"

"God, I wish I could," he replies in a strained voice. “Also, it’s really - hot when y- you call me that.”

"Yeah? And how do you like it, baby? You wanna fuck me on my back, so you can keep watching me as you play with me? Or you wanna be the one to lay there and take it while I bounce on your dick? Or d- do you wanna just - bend me over and - fuck me senseless, huh?" As you finally give into temptation, sliding your hand beneath your panties and finally giving your clit the attention it's been craving for far too long, your breath hitches and your voice gets weaker.

“Oh, god, I… All of it, god, please, I don’t care, just want you,” he groans through the phone.

“I want you too, baby, you sound so good,” you croon sultrily, rubbing yourself in faster, tighter circles. “Are you close, hm? Gonna cum for me? I wanna hear you get off so bad.”

“Wanna - wanna get off for yo- with you, want you, please,” he whines.

“Mmm, tell me one more time, baby. What are you thinking of now?” You ask as you sink a finger inside of you. “Thinking of fucking me, yet?”

“Mm - mm-hm,” Keys whimpers. “You - You on top of me, talking like that and - and riding me, treating my cock so good.”

“I’d treat you so good, baby," you groan, adding another finger. "And you'd fill me up, wouldn't you? Fuck me - oh, right there," you whine as you curl your fingers to hit just the right spot. "Oh god, Keys, need you inside me."

Something about you saying his name short-circuits his brain. You just about hear his strained string of moans and profanities through the phone, picturing in your head how that sweet face of his must look - eyes glassing over, lips slightly parted, chest heaving. Maybe you’d fuck him with his glasses on. Maybe they’d be clouded over, knocked askew on his face as you bounced up and down on his dick. “Did you just come for me, baby?” you coo, your shoulders tensing and toes curling as you feel your own release building.

"Mm-hm, yeah, made - made a real mess of myself, shit," he half-laughs with exhaustion.

“That’s my good boy,” you smile dazedly, your core convulsing around your fingers. "Want me to cum for you, too?"

"Oh, shit, you haven- where are my - God, fuck, yes, let me hear you s… Say my name," his voice shakes with the effort he's trying to exude confidence into his tone, betrayed by the immediate, "please," that rolls off his tongue.

Closing your eyes, imagining that look on his face again, pressing your phone flush against your ear as if it pulls him closer to you, you finally leg out an, "Oh, god, Keys!" before finally feeling yourself gush down your fingers, past your hand, even. Breathing heavily, you pant, "Shit, baby, I think you made me squirt."

"Is that a good thing?" he asks meekly.

"Very. You doing good, now?"

"Very!" He repeats back to you, breathlessly, making you laugh. "Sorry I was so… Pathetic, I guess. God," his voice muffles as though he's rubbing his face while he talks. "But it did sound like you were into it a little," he points out with a lilt in his voice.

You grin, "I sure did, but if you wanted to do it again, but more… Confidently, I'd be more than happy to do that again. If you wanted."

"I've never really done… Any of that before, like, at all," he starts, and you interrupt him with a laugh.

"Yeah, no shit, Mr Subway!"

"Ah, like I said, that's not entirely untrue," he laughs awkwardly. "But I've especially never done anything with a total stranger, much less someone I helped through work, um, they can't - you wo- please, don't -"

"You mean this isn't standard practice for Free City customer support?" You tease sarcastically, before adding in a serious tone, "I won't tell a soul. Besides, I like having you as my dirty little secret."

He chuckles, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Maybe the next time you're feeling up to it, we can video call."

"N-Next time?!"

You hurriedly add, "If you wanted, you sounded like you did, if this is the first and last, that's totally -"

"No! I mean, yeah! I mean… If that's… Cool," he stammers.

You smile, "It's very cool. Just gotta be a little more confident. Isn't there something you do when you need that extra boost? Like, surely in the game you gotta be a little more self-assured around trolls and hackers and shit, right?"

He groans, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about that."

Grinning wickedly, you poke further. "Well, now I have to know. Who are you in the game? Have I ever seen you?"

"I… I play a cop," he admits, sounding as though he'd rather the ground swallowed him whole. "It's usually me and my buddy, and he's - he's a rabbit."

You light up. "Shut the fuck up, you're Dirty Stripper Cop?!"

"Oh god, the players call me that, too?! It's bad enough that Mouser does," he groans in despair.

"No, this is perfect. You just let me know when you’re ready to bring… Dirty Stripper Cop to our little talks, and I’ll be waiting,” you bite back a laugh as you repeat his character’s nickname in the hopes that he’ll still take your offer seriously.

A moment of silence exists between the two of you before he pipes up, “...And what if I still want to talk to you, without… All of this? I mean, if that’s all you want, then I guess, but… I dunno, you still seem really cool, and you made me laugh today, even at work when it felt weird in my cheeks to start smiling. But if this is all you want with -”

The rest of his words get drowned out as you move your phone away from its position to look at your dating app notifications. Keys has apparently not been your only option tonight. And you’ve never been one to commit. But something tells you that this was the best offer you’re getting. And the next one will be. As will the one after that, and that’s not even set in stone, yet. But you’re hoping to guarantee it.

As you return your headset to your ear, he’s still rambling. You cut him off with a simple, “Keys.” He shuts up quickly, and you continue, “I - I meant it. I wanna talk to you again. Maybe more than just this, I dunno, I’m bad at this sorta stuff. But… You’re cute. In more ways than one. And if you wanna keep talking, I’ll try. But that’s all I can promise.”

“That’s enough for me! I’ll, um, I’ll text you in the morning, then? Or is that too soon?”

“I honestly wish I could tell you,” you admit sadly. You hope it gets through to him that your reservations aren’t on his part.

Thankfully for you, he doesn’t seem so keen to give up. “Alright! Well, I suppose I got some cleaning up to do before I get some shut-eye. Um, so I’ll talk to you, tomorrow… At some point. Um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, baby.”

#keys x reader #keys x you #keys imagine #walter keys mckey x reader #walter keys mckey x you #walter keys mckey imagine #keys free guy x reader #keys free guy x you #keys free guy imagine #*myfics #fic: keys

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taleasnewastime · 1 year

Text

The feeling’s slow to fade

Summary: There’s something out there. In the woods. On the streets. In your home. You know it’s there have just never seen it. It starts with one seemingly small death, a bird but builds into bigger and bigger animals. Everyone brushes it off, only you feel the ghost of something following you, only you keep seeing the animals it horrifically kills, only you think something bigger is going on here. But when you start to try and work out what’s happening, it seems the guy who has hated you since school is also taking an interest. The two of you embark on a journey to try and find out why animals are mysteriously dying in your town, discovering things about each other along the way.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers, horror with a touch of fantasy, smut, fluff, angst.

Word count: 26.7k

Warnings (there are spoilers in this): Mention of death of both human and animal, mentions of readers parents dying – though not graphically described it is heavily discussed, more detailed descriptions of dead animals, reader kills something, blood, reader feels queasy, uneasy feelings and feelings of being followed, reader is sick, idk I don’t think it’s overly scary but these are still the themes, it’s more emotional than scary? swearing, Explicit sexual content, safe sex, penetrative sex.

Authors Note: Happy (slightly belated) Halloween! Written for the BTS Writing Café’s Welcome to Horrorwood event. Surprise @sunshinerainbowsbts! Or maybe not as I feel like I was being the most obvious person in the world. I tried to throw you off, but it’s hard to not talk like yourself (before the whole squash debacle I even tried to use the flavor not flavour etc. but quickly gave up when it became obvious I’m not American). I apologise for the length of this, I got carried away as I always tend to get when I write. I also really struggled with the ending of this. But before I completely downplay how great this story is, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all your help writing this, I hope you notice all the little bits I added from the answers you gave in your asks. Et Voila!

There’s blood everywhere. Splatters on the floor and dots all over the walls.

Something died here. Or maybe it was dragged here given the smears in the blood by the door. Whatever happened, it wasn’t pretty, and it happened while you were sleeping only a meter away.

You feel a little queasy. You’d just stood in that blood, can still see the outline of your foot. It was how you’d first realised something was off, waking up and immediately standing in blood isn’t exactly your definition of the best start to the day. Flicking on the light to brighten the near pitch-black room had shown you the horror you now stare at.

Your stomach turns. How did you sleep through whatever happened here? What created so much blood? Whatever it was put up a pretty good fight. And though you have an idea of what, or who, may have done it, it does nothing to ease your worries. If anything it only heightens them.

Heart hammering, you work your way downstairs. Careful to not step in any of the blood, though much of the smaller patches have already dried. You’re not sure if you want whatever it is to be alive or dead. Both seem pretty grim options.

You follow the smears and splatters around your house. They don’t take you far, mostly because the cottage is only small, but soon enough you’re stood in your kitchen staring straight at the thing that created all the blood.

It’s dead. Lifeless body a bit mangled with no hope of resurrection. And sat on one of the bar stools, looking as if he couldn’t care less, is the murderer.

“Tofu,” you scold.

Your cat gives you a curtesy glance before going back to cleaning his paws. Given the amount of blood all over your home you’re surprised his pristine white fur isn’t marred. Though, honestly, you couldn’t care less about your arsehole cat in this moment. You give him a small push towards the exit and then a soft boot out the door. Through the window he gives you a small glare, you’d have normally given him food before kicking him out the house for the day, and he must be pretty proud about his catch. But he’s coated half your house in blood and by the looks of it, has already had a half decent meal today. No, he deserves to be outside, at least until you can clear this up. You’ll shove some food outside before you head to work.

You look back at your room, a headache already forming. You hate Fridays for various reasons, you really don’t need this on top of everything else.

Settling on at least getting rid of the bird’s body before heading to work you try to work out the best approach. The blood around the house will take longer than you have to clean, but maybe you can at least put something on the patches to stop it staining. Honestly, right now, it all feels like a problem for future you, though she won’t be impressed with that decision.

You step closer to the dead animal. It’s a big bird and you’d feel a little impressed with your cat if it wasn’t for the situation. You don’t examine it too closely, it’s pretty mangled and not the nicest sight, plus you don’t have any desire or the time to look at it closer.

You end up having to rush around your house to get ready for work, that headache only increasing in intensity as you leave the house.

The bell dings above your head, a twinkling sound so at odds to what you associate with this place. All you feel is dread whenever you step into the small, quaint bookshop.

The bay window holds a display that changes weekly, today there are various Agatha Christie novels and games. A murder mystery theme for Halloween. The walls of the shop are lined floor to ceiling with books and even in the small space there are a few tables also crammed with books.

Tonight they’re all pushed to the side and one is cleared and crammed with people around it instead. Games night. One of the few occasions you ever come into this place. All other times you avoid it like the plague. It’s a shame, because in any other situation you’d try your hardest to come to this place daily. It just so happens that the man you hate, or more the man that hates you, owns the place. You’re surprised he even lets you in on games night, there’s probably a barred sign with your face behind the till even though it’s only him and Olivia that work here, both know you. He’s probably scribbled little horns on your head and uses it as a dart board, you know, the usual.

As it turns out, you’re allowed on the premises, if only for one night every fortnight.

The man in question, the one who hates you with every fibre of his being, is currently stood looking down at the group sat around the table. He’s smiling, something you rarely see, and you hate the fact that the expression seems to suit him. It brightens his face, lightens his normally dark eyes, causes little creases to appear in the corner of his eyes and those little teeth are kind of endearing.

Ok, nope. Your traumatic day is obviously getting to you because nothing Yoongi has ever done can be considered endearing.

You take a small step into the room and call out, “hey.”

Yoongi’s head is the only one to turn your way. His whole demeanour changes in the process. Before he’s even made eye contact with you his smile has dropped, his body becomes stiff as he stands straight. He looks at you for all of one second, his expression flat, telling you everything he’s thinking; he wishes you weren’t here, hell, he probably wishes you didn’t exist. Your fake smile only widens a little, because as much as you wish you weren’t, you’re not as low as Yoongi and would never treat him like he treats you, even if you do dislike him.

His eyes flick to your smile, a look of disgust crosses his face as his jaw clenches and then he’s twisting and heading out the room.

Well, it could have been a lot worse. At least he didn’t verbalise his hatred.

You take another step into the room, shrugging off your jacket and trying your best to not let your first welcome set your mood.

“Hey guys,” you say again, this time slightly louder.

“There she is,” Seokjin turns and beams at you, at least someone seems happy to see you. “You do realise this thing starts at 7, right?”

“It’s 7:20, Jin, she’s hardly late.”

You shoot Olivia a grateful smile before looking back at Seokjin. “I’ve had a shit day, ok?”

“Oh?” He sounds happy rather than the concerned you were hoping for.

“At least sit down first,” Namjoon cuts in this time, gesturing to the empty seat next to him.

You drop your jacket on the back of the chair before sitting down. You don’t miss the fact that Yoongi has drifted back into the room. He’s stood behind the till messing with something you can’t see but you’d bet he overheard the fact you’ve had a shit day and has come to bask in your misery.

Honestly, you’re not sure when his hatred started. As far as you’re concerned it happened when you moved here and started at the same school as him. It was a rough time for you, your mum recently passed away due to a car accident, and your dad in his grief moved the two of you halfway across the country. New house, new town, and new friends on top of all the other emotions you were trying to process; you’d tried your hardest to feel upbeat walking into your first class. When your teacher pointed at your new seat you’d shuffled over to it and then smiled as warmly as you could at the boy sat in the seat next to yours. You introduced yourself, watched as his eyes dragged their way across your entire being, judgment and displeasure written on his face the whole time. He didn’t say anything, didn’t smile back or tell you his name, he just turned away from you and sat as far as he could while the class started.

When you brought up his reaction to others, they didn’t seem surprised, apparently it was a very Yoongi reaction – whatever that meant. You brushed it off, took it to mean he was shy. Only, the next lesson with him, he was sat somewhere else. So disgusted by just the sight of you, he asked the teacher to move.

It only went down from there. You started in the school late, were well into your GCSEs by the time you joined. You did well academically, actually enjoyed school. Unfortunately, Yoongi was in most of your classes, both of you at a similar level that you became rivals of a sort. You wouldn’t have minded much, could live with being in the same classes, but he obviously hated it. Whenever he outperformed you on a test he’d gloat, it became a race to answer the teacher correctly before you could or get better marks then you.

You remember one time trying to extend an olive branch by asking him for help with some homework, he didn’t even look at what you were asking for help on, just mumbled how he couldn’t help you and disappeared. The next day you saw him helping one of your classmates, Aimee, with the same piece of work.

You’ve never been able to work out what you’ve ever done to Yoongi for him to hate you. Apparently just existing is enough. Any time you brought it up with your mutual friends they brushed it off, that same old excuse of it just being what Yoongi does. It never felt like that when he only left rooms when you appeared or lost his smiles with you around or became impossibly quiet in your presence. Whatever it was he had against you went on well into sixth form, right until the point you left for university. While he stayed where you grew up, you moved away. You started a new life, studied hard to progress in the career you always wanted, while he opened this bookshop.

And then it all fell apart.

Your dad announced he had cancer. Stage 4. Terminal. All the words you never want to hear about a loved one.

You moved home to look after him. Left your job and your life. You had to, he had no one else, there was only you and you could never leave him when he needed you the most.

It’s been three months since he passed. Just over a year since you moved back here. Months when you could have left, gone back to your old life. And yet you’ve stayed.

“So come on then. What was so shit about this day?”

You look at Seokjin and the broad smile on his face, one of the group of friends from school who still live in the area. “Do you want me to go get you some popcorn so you can properly enjoy this, or are you happy listening without snacks?”

His eyes glimmer at the joke. “Yoongi will get it, won’t you?”

You can’t stop yourself from glancing at the man, his eyes already on you, cold and hard as if it’s you asking him to personally attend to your needs. You open your mouth to tell him he doesn’t have to, anything to not add another black mark against your name. He disappears out the back before you can say anything.

Seokjin’s still smiling innocently when your eyes turn back to him. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Tofu killed a bird this morning, there’s currently blood all over the house,” you begin in a flat tone. “Then when I got to work Pedro gave me a list longer than my arm to complete, insulted me approximately ten times and then proceeded to sit back and do nothing all day while I slaved away.”

“Only insulted you ten times? Sounds like an improvement to me.”

“I don’t know why you still work there,” Olivia comments over Seokjin.

“Because I need money.”

“Yeah, but you have a degree. You could get a hundred jobs better than that one.”

Not here. You don’t say the obvious words because that would lead to questions you wouldn’t know how to answer. Instead you say, “if you know of any, feel free to let me know.”

“Yoongi was saying how we could do with some help with the accounts.”

Olivia says the words the same moment Yoongi leans between you and Namjoon to place a bowl of popcorn on the table. It throws you, the statement from Olivia because everyone knows Yoongi hates you, so why would she even bring it up if not to stir the pot? The fact Yoongi is so close, placing the food Seokjin asked for right by you also doesn’t help the way you tense at her words. The combination makes you unable to respond meaning Olivia carries on talking.

“That’s what you did before, right? An accountant for Jacobs or something?”

“I doubt I’d pay Y/N enough to enable her to quit her job,” Yoongi’s deep voice comes from right behind you.

You’d assumed he’d left the room again but when you turn he’s there, like right there. You have to crane your neck to look up at him and when you meet his eyes he lifts an eyebrow. Flustered you turn back to the table.

“Yeah, but I bet there are other businesses that need the same services. You could be freelance?”

“I, uh –”

“I bet if we asked Jungkook he’d say the gardening company would take you on too.”

She’s getting way too excited about this thing that’s never going to happen. You can’t start your own business, there would be hoops to go through, things you have no idea about to do. Yes you hate your job, yes you worked so hard to get high up in your old accountancy firm and yes you loved it. Part of you craves to go back to it and if an opportunity came up here to do just that you’d jump on it.

But that doesn’t mean you can do it alone with no experience of freelance. You can’t rely on your friends for business. And by Yoongi’s response it’s pretty clear he wouldn’t hire you even if you were going for it. No, it’s not happening, not even a possibility in your mind. You need to shut this down.

“Where is Jungkook anyway?”

There’s a second pause at the change in topic. Luckily Namjoon picks up what you’ve dropped.

“Worked late tonight so couldn’t make it.”

“Which,” Seokjin’s beaming again, this time the smile not directed at you but behind you. “Means you’re going to have to play. For even teams.”

There’s a pause and you can almost feel the hole being burnt in the back of your head.

“I count four of you. You don’t need me.”

“Two on each team. We need someone to ask the questions and you know, check Y/N doesn’t cheat.”

You glare at Seokjin; he doesn’t even look at you. They love to poke at the fact that Yoongi hates you.

“Fine,” Yoongi grumbles behind you. “Let me go get something to drink.”

You almost ask him to get you something too, preferably something strong to help you get through this night. At least you already know the result of the game because there is no way you’ll be winning even if you’re on a team with Namjoon.

This day just gets better and better.

There’s another dead animal. It wouldn’t be a weird sight on your walk to work given you see it on the main road through town, roadkill happens all the time, but this animal doesn’t look like it’s been hit by a car. What causes a chill to run down your spin is the amount of blood. And more the way it’s splattered across the road, mirroring your house.

Much like the bird in your house, this fox didn’t die without putting up a fight.

It’s too big for Tofu to have killed, even if he was allowed out at night to have done it. It’s too big for any cat to have killed. Maybe something bigger? A wolf? But you don’t get wolves here. Plus, you don’t think any animal would cause the injuries you can see, it all looks too calculated. Messy, but like they knew what they were doing.

Another shiver runs down your back.

Standing up you glance around the street. You have the feeling of being watched but as you look around you can’t see anyone. The street is empty and completely silent. Still, that prickling sensation lingers.

Completely spooking yourself on you decide it’s pointless lingering here, you can’t do anything for the fox now. You start back on your route to work, trying to shake the weird feeling that’s come over you.

“It’s weird.”

“Yeah,” you say, putting a pumpkin in your basket, you probably won’t eat it but it’ll look cute by your fireplace. “I mean it’s got to be a coincidence seeing two brutally killed animals so close together.”

“Yeah,” Olivia says, looking at the vegetables laid out in front of you. “But that’s not why it’s weird.”

You wait for her to pick the perfect courgette, something that takes far too much consideration. You sometimes do your food shopping together. You told Olivia about the dead animals you’ve seen in the last few days, how upsetting, gross and unsettling it is. The friends you have in the area is what you pin staying here on. You never had friends you could talk to so openly or go food shopping within the city you used to live. In reality there are other things, deeper feelings rooted in your dad’s death that keep you here. But even though it’s been months since he passed, you’re still unable to properly delve into those thoughts and feelings.

“It’s weird because I also saw a dead animal yesterday.”

“What?”

“Yeah, like the ones you saw, only it was a badger,” she picks up an apple, pausing. “I think. You know, it was hard to see with all the blood and you know, disfigurement.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She frowns at you. “You wanted to know about a dead animal?”

“If it was killed the same way as the one I told you about in my house, then yes.”

“Thought that was Tofu?” She says but then waves it off, starting to walk away from the veg section. “Anyway, it’s all a weird coincidence, like you said.”

“But what if it’s not?”

She gives you another look like she thinks you’re crazy before looking at the range of sausages. She doesn’t even give your answer a response.

“I mean Tofu couldn’t really have killed a bird the size of a pigeon. And there was no blood on him, but there was blood everywhere,” you pause, another thought only just coming to you now. “He’s not even aloud out at night and I don’t have a cat flap, so how did he bring it in?”

“Maybe he’s a better killer than you think,” she says flatly, not giving your theory any room to bloom. “You should watch out.”

“But there have been two other murders on top of that.”

“Of animals,” she corrects, carrying on with her shop, yours is long forgotten.

“Don’t you think that’s more than a coincidence though?”

“Tofu killed that bird. The other two were probably just a car or something.”

“A car didn’t kill that fox.”

“Ok then another animal.”

She’s stopped now, is staring at you with an exasperated look. You’re stood in the middle of the dairy aisle possibly having an argument with your best friend about, what exactly? Some dead animals around town? It feels stupid when you think about it, but you can’t let it go.

“This is why I didn’t tell you. What do you want me to say?” She says, her tone just as tired. “That some sick person did it? I don’t really see what that’s going to achieve.”

She’s right, of course. You’re not really sure what you want from this conversation, maybe just someone else to acknowledge how weird it is, to make you feel better about the dread you’ve felt since seeing that fox, that lingering feeling of being watched. But even if Olivia agreed with you, even if she said she also had a weird feeling about it, what would that achieve? It would surely only worry you more.

“You’re right,” you say, deflating. “Sorry, I’ve just a bit off all week. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Olivia softens too. It wasn’t really an argument, but you’re both back on more even terms now.

“Do you want to pick up any medicine?”

You glance at your half empty basket and then plaster a small smile on your face when you look back at her.

“Nah, I think I might just head home and have an early one.”

Worry seeps into her face, smaller than before, but there nonetheless.

“I’ll text you in the morning to let you know how I feel. I can always take the day off.”

She’s still frowning when she talks, but at least has a joking quality to her tone. “What would Pedro say about that?”

“He’ll have to do some actual work for once I guess.”

None of your laughs are real, both of you faking that you’re ok after the conversation you’ve had. But neither of you say anything as you turn and pay for only half the food you came here for. You bundle yourself tighter into your jacket when you leave the shop and prepare for the walk home alone in the already dark evening.

“Heard about all the dead animals around town,” Seokjin’s stuffing his face with crisps, seeming not to care about any crumbs. “Weird how they’re all dying around Y/N.”

“Maybe she’s cursed,” Jungkook jumps in before you can respond.

“Or, maybe she’s the one killing them,” Seokjin looks to the door that leads to the back room and shouts, “she’s probably practicing before she kills you, Yoongi.”

Jungkook doesn’t even attempt to hide his laugh, while Namjoon at least stuffs his face with some pretzels to hide his. Seokjin still looks satisfied when his eyes fall on yours across the table.

“Maybe it’s you that should be watching out,” you reply, Jungkook ‘oohing’ and picking up the bowl of sweets as if watching a fight. “And anyway, it wasn’t just me that saw the animals.”

You glare at Olivia, the snitch, who conveniently avoids your eye contact.

“Was it also you at the old cottage?”

Your eyes snap back to Seokjin, “huh?”

“Police have reported a break in and asked for anyone to come forward with any information.”

“Well, if you don’t know anything, no one stands a chance. It is where you live isn’t it?” Jungkook teases Seokjin and you watch as a small fight breaks out over the sweets Jungkook holds.

It’s weird though. The old cottage is run down, sat in the middle of the forest it’s been empty since you were at school. One of those places that kids dare each other to go in. Maybe that’s all there is to it, some school kids playing a prank and the police having enough of it and finally trying to crack down. But why now? Why didn’t they report all the times it’s happened before? What’s so special about this time? And what are the chances that it happens at the same time all these animal deaths keep popping up?

“I might go.”

Your statement gets Jungkook and Seokjin to stop bickering. Silence falling over the room and all eyes on you.

“Go … where?” Namjoon asks.

“To the old cottage.”

“Why, exactly?”

“Because don’t you guys think it’s weird?”

“Yeah,” Olivia chips in. “But the police are dealing with it. There’s nothing we can do.”

“Oh come on,” you look to Jungkook and Seokjin, the two most likely to be happy breaking a few rules. “It’s not like I’m going to commit a crime. Walking through the woods isn’t a crime, is it?”

“No, just creepy as hell,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

“Sorry, didn’t know I was sat with a load of wusses.”

It doesn’t get the reaction you wanted, you thought it might make someone bite and agree to come with you, but the table remains silent. Fine, you’ll go on your own, though you’re not about to admit that out loud given the reactions so far.

“Fine,” you sigh, relaxing back into your chair. The table seems to do an audible sigh of relief.

“I don’t get why you’re so obsessed by this,” Olivia asks.

“I’m not obsessed,” you say, not convincing yourself let alone the room. “Just curious.”

“It’s weird,” you decide it’s best not to point out that’s part of the point.

“Y/N’s just into creepy stuff,” Jungkook smirks.

“Yeah, you wish you knew that,” Seokjin hits Jungkook’s side with a wink, gaining a disgusted look from you and Jungkook.

“No I don’t,” he’s quick to defend, before his tone turns lighter. “But I know someone who would.”

“Alright,” you shake a hand, wincing. “Can we just get back to the game? Who’s go is it anyway?”

“Mine,” Namjoon pipes up for the first time.

Everyone trusts he’s telling the truth; no one even thinks he might be using it to his advantage to get an extra roll of the dice.

You look up at him, mind distracted by what you’ve learnt and what you’re going to do with the information. You know you have to go to the abandoned cottage; you just wish someone else had agreed to go with you. But whatever, you’re a big girl, you can go through some woods alone, however creepy.

Your eyes drift from Namjoon, catching someone staring at you behind him.

Yoongi’s stood behind the till, even when you look right at him, he doesn’t pretend to not be staring. His eyes bore into you like he can read every thought. It’s you that flushes and focuses back on the game. Yoongi just continues to stare at you.

A branch cracks in the distance. You jump, clutch the flashlight tighter in your hand as you look back towards the sound.

It was probably just as deer. Or a badger. Or a terrifying creature that’s following you through the woods determined to –

Nope. You’re not letting yourself do that. You’re not getting carried away.

It was just a deer. You repeat the words in your head as you turn back on your course. Heading up the track that’s covered in dead leaves you try not to let your mind wonder. Focus instead on the orange and brown leaves that make a light crunching sound every time you take a step. It would be idyllic if not for the creepy trees, darkening skies and near silence that surrounds you. But you’re trying not to think too hard about that.

There’s another snap, this time closer and you swear you hear footsteps.

You don’t turn to look. Heart hammering you just increase your speed. As if walking faster towards the creepy, abandoned house that’s brought you here is going to help. Why you thought coming here would be a good idea, you’re not sure. The sun is setting, soon you’ll be alone in the dark with the potential of something following you and no one knowing you’re here.

You’re going to die.

You’re going to die alone, in the woods, with no one even realising.

Another twig snaps this time closer, louder. You jump, trip over a tree root, and decide it’s just better to hide then run. Rounding a tree to hide you pull your phone out your pocket and clutch it to your chest. Your breath comes out unsteady and loud. You try to slow it down, try to calm yourself even as you hear footsteps getting closer.

It goes silent and then a figure rounds the tree and stands right in front of you.

“You alright?”

You jump, knock the back of your head on the tree and then stumble forward. There’s a dull ache made even worse when you look at who’s just appeared.

Yoongi looks at you, a small smile on his lips you wouldn’t see if you didn’t know him. It’s a look that’s subtly smug, a look that if you told anyone they would say he just looks flat faced but you’ve seen it enough to know that he’s amused by you. Not in a good way. Amused at the fact you’ve just embarrassed yourself in front of him. Just another reason for him to dislike you.

“Fuck,” you mutter, clutching your thumping heart. “Yoongi, what the hell?”

His head cocks to the side and that coupled with his casual greeting shows how he has no idea how scared he’s made you. That, or he was doing it all on purpose and is happy to see it’s all worked.

Rubbing a hand on the back of your head, more to make a point than anything, you send him a glare before continuing to walk. He easily falls into step beside you and even though you expected it, it still annoys you.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Well I asked first.”

“I thought we’d agreed you weren’t going to come out here.”

You turn your head to look at him, a deep frown on your face, only to see he’s not joking.

“We?”

“In the bookshop.”

“I hadn’t realised you were part of that conversation.”

He’s quiet and when you look at him there’s a slight colour to his cheeks. It could just be the walking and cold air, but you like to think it’s because of what you’ve said. Good, he should feel awkward, he wasn’t even part of that conversation and what right does he have to come following you to tell you shouldn’t be here?

“Is this all something you’re doing?” His head turns to you at the question so you’re both staring at each other. “You know, is that why you’re following me here? Because you don’t want me to work out it’s something you’re up to?”

He looks taken aback, even shakes his head a little as if to clear it. “You think I’ve been killing animals?”

No, you don’t. Still, you shrug and focus back on the path even as Yoongi stares at you. “Maybe.”

“I came here because …” his voice is full of anger and the fact he cuts himself off makes you look back over at him. You both stare, a tension rising as you wait to hear his reason and he tries to hold it back. “Because I didn’t want you walking in the woods at night, alone.”

“But you thought I’d agreed not to come,” you push because it’s too awkward to acknowledge his reason because that would imply he cares about you and that’s absurd.

He gives you a look that speaks volumes, one that says only a fool would believe that.

“Right. Well. Next time don’t creep up on me.”

“Next time don’t go off on your own.”

“Well maybe next time you could speak up and help me not look like an idiot in front of my friends.”

“That’ll take some convincing.”

He says it lightly, playfully but in this moment and because it’s him, the joke flies over your head. You glare at him before walking a little faster, attempting to increase the distance between you. It only takes him a second to close the distance. There’s a light laugh on his lips when he’s back at your side.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you know I was joking.”

“Do I?”

“You’d have laughed if it was Jin who said that,” the lightness in his tone starts to seep out again, not that you notice, your anger consumes you.

“Because he’s my friend,” you say and then as if to drive the point home, add, “and he never made fun of me and my grades at school.”

It’s not fair and it’s not a point you overly dwell on anymore. Sure, it upset you growing up and it’s what caused such a divide between the two of you. But you’re old enough now to be over it. It’s just that in this moment, tensions running high with the man you are so rarely alone with, you find everything seeping out of you.

It’s silent as you round the top of the hill. And when you look at Yoongi there’s a frown on his face and a distant look as if he’s trying to work through something.

You sigh, about to apologise or move on but he speaks before you can.

“You think I made fun of your grades at school?”

It’s more the way he says the words that take you back. The light, slightly broken tone he uses as if the thought upsets him.

“Well, yeah.”

He looks at you with a face that reflects his tone, and you find yourself trying to explain as if he wasn’t there for it all.

“You never helped me with homework, and I remember hearing you laughing about a bad grade I got once. I’m pretty sure Jimin told me that you said you were surprised by me when I first joined too.”

“I never laughed at your grades.”

You roll your eyes. Though you’re not sure what you expected. When you moved back here you thought that after years of not seeing each other Yoongi might be more normal around you. He wasn’t, so you’re not sure why you’re disappointed not to hear any ownership for his actions now.

“It was never like that. I told –”

“It’s alright,” you cut him off. Even if he sounds keen to explain you don’t want to listen to his excuses. “It was years ago anyway.”

“Is that what you’ve –”

You cut him off again by pointing out the house that brought you out here. You should never have brought up your history anyway. And Yoongi trying to deny everything he did only proves that.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He doesn’t say anything as you walk towards the house. It’s creepy, the cottage has some its windows boarded up, ivy growing up the exterior. There’s a metal fence a few meters from it, a notice telling people not to enter. You ignore it, stepping up to the fencing you look back at Yoongi in a silent question. Understanding, he steps towards you, flicks you a smile before placing a hand on the joint between two fences and pulling them apart to make the gap bigger for you to slip through.

Flustered by him being a gentleman for once, you slip through the fence without a thank you.

A chill runs through you as you take a step towards the house and wait for Yoongi. You’d never admit it aloud but you’re glad he followed you. The dark, crumbling house looks less than inviting and despite your attempt at heroics you know you would have backed out of this by now.

“How’d you know I was here anyway?” You look over at Yoongi when he steps beside you.

His eyes flick to yours briefly before going back to the house.

“Shall we get this over with?” He ignores your question, walking away from you before getting an answer to his.

You nearly trip in your haste to catch him. “Because I get that you might not have believed me, but how did you know I was coming tonight?”

He continues to ignore you, hand going to the door he gives it a hard push and it creaks open.

You’re annoyed when you walk in, a common emotion when you’re around Yoongi. He continues to walk away from you, doesn’t hold the door open for you this time and you don’t think to catch it. Just before the door clicks shut he turns with words on his lips.

“Don’t let it –” the door shutting cuts him off and he flashes you a glare. “Close.”

“Right, because it’s my fault.”

He rolls his eyes, looks to be struggling to bite back words as he walks back towards the door. You watch as he reaches for the handle, but there’s nothing there. Your heart drops, blood runs cold and again you have that weird feeling of being glad you’re not alone.

“I never said it was your fault,” his voice comes out low, quiet as he tries to not snap at you. It does nothing to calm you.

“You didn’t need to.”

He ignores you, his fingers working at the door, body pushing into it. While you stand staring at him, verbalising your annoyance, he’s being proactive and trying to get you out of this mess.

“I didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“Yeah, well I bet you’re glad I did now. What would you have done if you were stuck here alone?”

“If you hadn’t been distracting me, then maybe I would have thought to hold the door open.”

“I didn’t realise you found my back so distracting,” his voice is still deep, but that same jokey tone has seeped back in. Much like last time it only riles you more.

“I didn’t ask you to come Yoongi. I don’t need you to save me or whatever the fuck you think you came here to do.”

Silence fills the air. Thick and heavy. Yoongi’s stopped prodding at the door and you’ve stopped shouting.

He turns to look at you and you can’t read the emotion written over his face when he looks at you. A mixture of too many things to decipher. His eyes flick over your features no doubt trying to read you the same way you’re trying to read him. Whatever he sees has him looking away and clenching his jaw.

He doesn’t say anything as he walks away deeper into the house.

You stand, shocked by the door for a few seconds before twisting and chasing after Yoongi.

“Where are you going?”

“To find another way out,” he says it curtly, a message to not argue with him. You once again ignore him.

“But we’ve only just got here.”

“And there’s clearly nothing here.”

“We’ve not even looked.”

He rounds on you. “Listen, I don’t know what you expected, but there’s nothing here Y/N. Even if there was, what would you do? What would that tell you?”

You don’t know. It’s the same thing Olivia asked you and you still don’t have an answer. You don’t know what you expected or what you wanted. But, just like with Olivia, it doesn’t stop his words hurting.

This time when he walks away from you, you don’t follow.

You were going to do this alone, you don’t need to follow Yoongi around like a scared pup. You take a few seconds to calm yourself before twisting in the opposite direction.

It’s not a big cottage, only three rooms on the ground floor and you assume the same on the top. You can imagine it would have been nice back when people lived here. But after so long sitting unused and unloved, it would take a lot to get it back to that state.

Still the exposed beams are cute, the windows old and warped. You peak your head around the door of one of the rooms downstairs, do a visual sweep of the room without stepping in and when you find nothing of interest you back away. Just because you’re trying to be brave doesn’t mean you’re going to be reckless.

You pause at the bottom of the stairs. There are vines crawling up the banister, a small window blocked from letting in anything from outside.

Gripping the banister, you put a foot on the first step. Slowly put your weight on it to test it out. There’s a creak but that’s it. It doesn’t collapse, doesn’t strain under your weight. It’s only the first step, but it makes you more confident to slowly go up.

Your heart pounds with every creak your foot creates. Alone, you can feel your fear building. However hard you try to supress it, it doesn’t work. You can’t help but think that Yoongi might have left you here alone. You wouldn’t blame him, you weren’t exactly fun to be around earlier. Still, the only positive you can think to him leaving you is that he found an exit. All you need to do is do a sweep of upstairs and you can follow his lead.

There’s an overpowering smell when you reach the top of the stairs. Throat thick, heart hammering you don’t want to consider what it could be. You’re only half aware of Yoongi calling your name as you walk towards the smell.

It’s a cleaner kill then any you’ve seen so far but it’s a far bigger animal.

Stood frozen in the doorway you gaze upon the animal as footsteps work their way up the stairs. There’s a soft curse as Yoongi comes to your side, but you’re more aware of his warmth seeping into your side.

“It looks like someone slept here,” your voice is husky, eyes still firmly on the animal despite your words.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, you can see his head scanning the room before he turns to look at you.

“Do you think it struggled?”

He doesn’t answer, because what can he say to that, even if he answered it would be a lie. His hand coming to rest on the small of your back rips you out of your trance. Head twisting to look at his soft features.

“I found a way out.”

You nod, find yourself twisting to look back at the animal. Yoongi stops you with his other hand going to the shoulder furthest from him. He turns you to fully face him.

“It won’t help,” he says the words you know but can’t process. “Let’s go.”

Still in a trance you let him guide you. Honestly, you’re terrified. You’re not sure what you hoped for but finding another dead animal, bigger than any you’ve seen before, more human sized, hasn’t helped. It’s cemented in your head that’s something not right, but it’s also made you realise that you can do nothing.

You don’t know what it is and even if you did, something that’s killing animals that big, that violently, what help do you think you’ll give? You feel so helpless, so lost, so scared as Yoongi guides you downstairs and then out through a window he managed to open in one of the back rooms.

Together you walk silently back through the woods.

The next few days are much the same as your everyday life, the only difference being your mental health.

You can hardly sleep, feel nervous as you walk to work, are jumpy at even the smallest noises. You don’t socialise as much, try and find comfort in solace, though it doesn’t comfort you in the slightest.

Every dead animal you’ve seen in the past few weeks plays across your mind and every day you expect to see a bigger, more horrifically killed one.

Though it was the smallest, the bird is the one you dwell on. It was killed so close to where you slept and you were unaware until you woke that it keeps you up at night. You don’t know what’s causing it, don’t know what you’d do if you came across it. The not knowing somehow makes it all worse. Your imagination running away with you.

The only thing that you can think that makes it any better is that so far you don’t know of any humans who have been killed.

You go through your days worried and more like a zombie than a human.

“What you buying?”

You jump, clutch a hand to your chest. This man is going to give you a heart attack one of these days.

“Do you make it a habit of sneaking up on people?” Despite the question you shove the chocolate you were trying to convince yourself not to buy in your basket and move through the store.

“I didn’t sneak up on you. You’re just really unobservant.”

“I had my back turned; I literally couldn’t see you. Hence, you snuck up on me.”

He lets out a little sigh when you stop by the bread, but you continue to ignore him. You have no idea why he approached you to begin with let alone why he’s following you. Normally you both stay on opposite ends of the shop if you are unfortunate enough to visit at the same time.

“I’d go seeded if I were you.”

You glare at the bread you were mentally debating over and even though you know he’s right you grab the loaf of white, squishing some slices as you put it in your basket and carry on around the shop. Yoongi continues to follow.

“You planning on advising me on all my shopping?”

“I can if you want.”

You come to a stop by the juices. If he’s not going to leave you alone, you’ll just ignore him.

“Orange and mango is way better than just orange.”

“Thanks,” you say, picking up the apple juice.

“I’d go cloudy apple too.”

“Thanks for that,” you mutter continuing to ignore his advice as you walk away.

You pick up some rigatoni and then pause and look at him when he doesn’t make a comment. There’s a small smile on his face to show that while you’re hating this, he’s loving it.

“Not got anything to say about my pasta choice?”

“It’s the one I would have gone for,” he shrugs. “Not going to change it to prove you prefer everything different to me?”

You work your jaw as he continues to smile. This whole thing is so unnerving for so many different reasons. And while you could stand and argue with Yoongi all day, you just twist and continue with your shop.

“What do you really want, Yoongi?”

You walk a few steps before he says anything.

“I wanted to see how you are after everything.”

“I’m great.”

“You don’t look it.”

You glance at him, can’t even bring yourself to give a sarcastic smile. “Thanks.”

He rubs his hands together as you continue to debate your choice of squash, there’s just so much choice. You pick up on the fact you’re making him uncomfortable but do nothing to change your tone. If he’s regretting doing this then he can just leave now.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” his voice sounds like a sigh, as if he feels as tired as you are. “I’m just … the other night was a lot and I wanted to check you’re ok.”

The words make you pause. You know you look like shit, you know you look as tired as you feel. But Yoongi has never shown concern for you before, normally he does everything he can to ignore you. Speaking to you in the first place is strange enough but checking in on you is something else.

You pick up the orange squash, it’s your favourite flavour.

“I’m fine.”

Before you can twist and walk away Yoongi’s hand reaches out to grab the handles of your basket. Your jaw tenses as you look down at it and he’s quick to drop them, though he doesn’t apologise.

“What are you doing after this?”

You frown as you look at him. This conversation is only getting more and more weird.

“I just,” he pauses again, runs a hand through his hair as his eyes dart around the room in search of the words he wants. Now you’re looking at him you can see the same tiredness in his features. Maybe you’re not the only one having sleepless nights over this. “I wondered if we could talk about it?”

“I thought you thought it was all bullshit?”

His head dips as he narrows his eyes at you. “Can we just talk?”

You toy with the handles of your basket, become fidgety as you play for time. Yoongi lets you have it, is patient as he waits for your answer. You know what you should say, it’s just that it’s Yoongi. But he’s the only one who’s on the same page as you and you won’t deny that you also need someone to talk to. Even if it this person who you don’t like very much, you realise you have to talk to someone soon or you’re only going to build it up more in your head.

“You alright to come back to mine?” Yoongi’s shoulders relax at the words though his face doesn’t change in emotion. “I need to get this stuff in the fridge.”

He nods. “I’ll follow you.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

You turn as you speak, “he’s not a people person, so I wouldn’t –”

You cut yourself off when you see Yoongi. Tofu is winding his way around Yoongi’s legs, his purr loud enough for you to hear. As Yoongi bends down to scratch his head your cat even leans up to try and deepen it.

That bitch.

You beg for his affection and he never gives it and yet here he is willingly giving it out to a man he’s never met before.

“He must realise I hate you.”

Yoongi chuckles, his eyes still on your cat, completely unbothered by your statement. You start to warn him that he hates being picked up but are too late. It doesn’t matter anyway, because as Yoongi cradles your cat in his arms, he only snuggles closer and purrs louder. It takes you a second, the picture of your grumpy cat looking so content in the arms of a man you thought you hated, someone who currently looks softer than you’ve ever seen him, is a sight that’s hard to break away from.

“Of course,” you mutter, eyes still focused on the scene.

Yoongi only looks up at you, a bigger smile than you’ve ever seen on his face directed straight at you. Your heart does a weird flip, your stomach twisting, the air in your throat catching.

“He’s cute.”

“Tofu,” you manage to mutter.

Yoongi looks back down at your cat with that same big smile and eyes full of love.

“Well Tofu, as much as I love this, you’re getting white fur all over me.”

He gives the cat one last scratch before setting him of the floor. You watch, still frozen to your spot, as he wipes a hand down his top, trying and failing to get rid of all the white fur. When he looks up his eyes meet yours and his smile only widens at whatever he sees in your face.

“You alright?”

“I didn’t know you liked cats.”

“Right,” he laughs, stepping further into your house, closer to you. “You pictured me as some sort of all hating, miserable guy.”

“Something like that,” you mutter.

“Well, I like cats.”

“Ok,” you nod, trying to snap out of it. “Want a tea?”

Tofu follows both of you as you head to the kitchen. You ignore them both as you flick the kettle on. You can sense Yoongi looking around the room, taking everything in as you focus on making the drinks. His first question still takes you off guard though.

“Have you got plans to move back to the city?”

It’s asked awkwardly, not the best way to necessarily word what he’s asking, but you know what he means.

It’s a question about where you live of sorts, possibly his way of broaching topics you’re less comfortable with but intrigue him. Because they intrigue everyone. And now he’s here, in your home, maybe he thinks it’s ok to start asking. The topic that never comes up, finally some vague way to broach to it.

You clench your jaw as you reply only a half answer.

“It’s been so long I don’t think my old company would take me back.”

“You could contact them and ask?”

You shrug. Honestly you’ve thought about it, but there’s always an excuse as to why you don’t have time. You know you’re putting it off, you’re just not ready to dig into why.

“Or you could re-apply for some other jobs?”

“Maybe,” you mutter, the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

There’s a small pause and then Yoongi says, “the other day, when Liv said I need an accountant and I … well, I do actually need a hand if you want?”

You finish making the drinks, turn to place it on the counter in front of him. He seems genuine, nervous even. “I don’t need any handouts.”

“It wouldn’t be a handout. I need an accountant, you just happen to be one.”

“Used to be one,” you correct.

Yoongi shrugs. “I can get someone else but the offers there.”

Focus on your tea, fingers fiddling with the handle, you give him a small, muttered thanks.

“So the other night,” you thought he’d ask more, thought he’d start asking about your dad the way everyone tries. You look up at him, surprised he’s already moving on to the reason he asked to come here. “What did you think?”

You frown, again, not the question you were expecting. Yoongi seems to catch himself, letting out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck, eyes flicking away from you. He seems overly nervous since arriving here, it’s only now you’re looking at him you’re picking up on it.

“I guess what I’m really asking is, are you ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be,” you answer too quickly.

One of Yoongi’s eyebrows lift. “It was just a lot, I guess.”

“It was just a creepy –”

“And you seemed to space out a bit when you saw that dead deer.”

Is that weird? You want to ask. Seeing a dead animal and not being overly comfortable. Seems perfectly reasonable to you.

“And you wanted to check I was ok?”

“That’s hard to believe?” He asks, your tone obviously suggesting it is.

“We’re not exactly friends.”

“I can still want to check in on you,” he says sharply, almost annoyed.

You take a beat so that when you talk your tone no longer holds any emotion. “Alright, I’m fine. You?”

He doesn’t look like he believes you, or at least looks like your answer hasn’t done anything to reassure him. Yet he doesn’t say anything else, just nods his head.

“Great,” you say. “Now can we get to the reason you came?”

Yoongi waits, doesn’t say anything. He looks like he couldn’t care less about asking anything else. As if he’s already spoken about whatever it was that made him want to come here.

“The animals are getting bigger,” you state, as if giving him the answer in the quiz.

Still, he says nothing.

“Does that not creep you out?”

“Does it creep you out?” He throws the question back, irritating you.

“What is this? A therapy session?”

He looks taken aback by your sharp tone for a second, but quickly levels his features. “I guess I don’t know what you’re expecting from all of this? Animals die all the time.”

You clench your jaw as you turn away from him. He’s just like everyone else, you should have realised. This was why you were going to do it alone all along. Because everyone thinks you’re insane. Because no one else gets how weird and creepy this whole thing is. Because no one else had an animal murdered a few feet away from where they slept. Because no one else cares that things are dying and that maybe, just maybe, something could be done to stop that.

“But yes,” Yoongi carries on in a tone as if he’s stepping on eggshells. You’d feel bad for making him feel like he has to try and work out how to navigate this conversation with you if you didn’t dislike him so much. “I have to admit that deer didn’t look like it died of natural causes.”

You turn back to face him, he’s said enough to deserve that but not enough to get rid of the glare on your face.

“Is that what the bird looked like when you found it here?” His words sound the equivalent of a hands up gesture; please don’t shoot.

“Yep,” you say. “I found it right where you’re standing.

He doesn’t seem phased by the fact, his eyes just casting down as if he’s going to find some clue there.

“That must have been pretty creepy,” he admits, his eyes going back to yours. “You ok here on your own?

“I have Tofu to help, it’s fine.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe you, but at least doesn’t dwell on it. “And you’re sure Tofu didn’t kill the bird?”

“I don’t let him out at night. How would he have gotten the bird in?”

He pauses to think. “What do you think it means?”

You sigh, it’s the million-dollar question. “I don’t know. But I was hoping we’d find some sort of clue at that house. All we discovered was it’s probably some sick human who’s camping out at an abandoned cottage in the woods. They’ve probably run away from there now anyway if the police really were there.”

“Maybe fully run away? Meaning this is all over anyway?”

“Maybe,” you say, not convinced at all.

“What’s everyone dressing up as for Halloween then?”

It’s Friday, which means it’s another games night. While everyone is focused on their hand of cards, trying to work out the next best move, Seokjin is leaning back in his chair his cards face down on the table. You’d wonder if it were a tactic into making you think he’s amazing at this game if you hadn’t already played it with him before. He’s horrendous at it. He just doesn’t care enough to get any better.

“Can’t tell you. You’ll find out on the night,” Jungkook says as he moves around the order of his hand.

“Boring,” Seokjin states, eyes trailing around the table. “Yoongi, what are you wearing?”

You find yourself looking up at the man in question. For once he sat at the table with no complaint. Though he’s still sat as far away from you as possible, he didn’t try and get out of playing or run into the back of the shop when you arrived. In fact he might have given you what he’d consider a smile when you walked in. Now though, he’s sat not quite as relaxed as Seokjin, but his cards are loose in his hand, and he looks like he knows exactly how he’s going to play and will probably win this game.

His eyes flick to you as if sensing your stare and you dart your focus back to your hand, face flushing.

“I’ve got some black jeans on and this top says Fear of –”

“Yeah, not now,” Seokjin snaps as if he’s the only one allowed to get the laughs Yoongi’s currently gained from the table. “For Halloween.”

“Right,” he replies flatly, though you think you hint a smile in his tone. “I haven’t thought about it.”

“Oh my god. Y/N, help me out here?”

“Uh, I was going to do Jen Walters,” you pause and when everyone wears blank faces you continue. “You know, She-Hulk?”

“You’re going to paint yourself green?” Seokjin’s face lights up like Christmas day.

“No,” you crush his hopes. “I’m going as Jen Walters. The human form. You know, big shirt and … never mind.”

“Yeah, sounds boring.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you smile and look back at your cards.

“I’m surprised you’re not going as the killer.”

Your smile drops as quickly as it appeared. You don’t look up at Seokjin, don’t want him to see that he’s gotten to you, it’ll only encourage him. But it’s too late. However small your reaction, he’s seen it.

“You could bring a dead animal, have blood splattered all over you and –”

“Alright Jin.”

To yours and seemingly everyone’s surprise, it’s Yoongi that cuts Seokjin off. Yoongi looks at him with a hard gaze while Seokjin looks back with his lips twisted into a smile. Your heart pounds for so many different reasons as you watch whatever is happening unfold.

“What?” Seokjin sounds innocent enough. “I was just saying it would be a good costume.”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t funny.”

“Who said it was a joke?”

There’s silence from Yoongi, his glare seeming to harden which only makes Seokjin’s smile widen.

“How is that all going by the way? Gotten any closer to catching the killer?”

All eyes turn to you and you heat from within. You know their feelings about this and you know they don’t align with yours. No matter what you say, they’ll tease you for it.

“You don’t care, so why should Y/N tell you?” Yoongi once again comes to your rescue and you’re too relieved to question it.

“Maybe you can tell me then? You have been helping, right?”

Yoongi flashes his eyes to you, something like guilt crossing his face, though you’re not sure why he would feel guilty.

“Can we just play this game?” Jungkook cuts everyone off. “I really wanted to get home by 8 for bake off.”

“Is that who you’re going as?” Taehyung jumps in. “Paul Hollywood?”

Jungkook just pouts his lips a little as if to stop his smirk and shrugs. Picking up three of his cards he announces, “three tens,” and places them in a pile in the centre of the table.

You don’t even bother to look at your own cards to check how that affects you. You’re too busy looking at Yoongi and wondering what the hell just happened.

“Are you dressed as Tofu?”

Yoongi looks down at himself, then back at you. “Isn’t Tofu white?”

He has a point. Still, the small amount you’ve had to drink coupled with his all-black outfit, little black cat ears so soon after meeting your cat makes you question it. Or maybe it’s just the surprise of him wearing something besides his normal outfit. You can’t recall Yoongi’s previous Halloween outfits, but you’d put him down as a wear normal clothes and say he’s Ross from Friends sort of person. But here you stand, at the annual Halloween party, being proven wrong.

“Yoongi’s met Tofu?” Jimin hands you the drink he left you to make. “When?”

He sounds way too interested and you feel a little sorry for Yoongi given the smile Jimin’s shooting him. The smile only adds to his outfit, the half red, half blue hair really makes him look like a psychotic Harley Quinn.

“The other day,” you cut in, attempting to save Yoongi but only put the spotlight on yourself.

“Yoongi came to your house?”

“That is where my cat lives, yes.”

“But Yoongi was there?”

“Is that so unbelievable?”

Jimin looks back to Yoongi, something unspoken goes between them, something you don’t understand. You take a sip of your too strong drink to cover your awkwardness before Jimin is looking back at you.

“No,” he says with a smile, everything about him screaming that the word he’s just said is a lie.

“Right,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Well I need a new drink,” you lift your still full cup up, eyes flicking between Jimin’s beaming smile and Yoongi’s flat face. “I’ll see you weirdo’s later.”

Before you make it out of earshot Jimin’s already on Yoongi.

“You went to her house?” He half screams and you resist the urge to look back at Yoongi’s expression.

“It was nothing.”

“But –”

You don’t catch anything more. Jungkook’s appeared in your face making that horrific slurping noise as if about to spit on you. You push his shoulder, fingers running along the exposed skin on his chest. Does his V-neck really have to be so large?

“You’re not Chris,” he makes the same joke he’s made a hundred times. And like every time before you don’t laugh.

“And unfortunately, you’re not Harry Styles.”

Jungkook just beams at you. “Harry Styles wishes he could be me.”

You hum, smirking into your drink. You have to admire the boys confidence. And his costume is pretty cool or would be if he wasn’t incessantly making spitting sounds as if he’s going to spit on Chris Pine.

“You should have brought a goat,” you say.

“And what are you anyway?” His eyes trace up and down your shirt covered body, disapproval on his features.

“She’s my Sophie of course,” an arm wraps itself around your back.

“It’s a crap Sophie costume. Isn’t she, like, an old woman?” Jungkook continues to judge.

“Nah, she’s as gorgeous as this lady here.”

You roll your eyes as you look up at Taehyung. “Is one drink all it takes for you guys to turn into utter sleaze balls?”

“Ouch,” Taehyung laughs, his arm only brining you closer into his side. “Thought you wanted me to show you the world?”

“Isn’t that Aladdin?” Jungkook says flatly.

Taehyung brushes the comment off. “Same difference.”

“Well, thanks Howl,” you say, slipping out of Tae’s arms. “But I think I’ll give it a miss.”

“You know who he is but not me?” Jungkook shouts after you as you walk away, sounding genuinely offended. “At least let me know if you see Chris!”

You look over your shoulder laughing as you shake your head at them. Eyes drifting you see Jimin and Yoongi still stood talking where you left them, the latter’s focus is purely on you. It makes you stutter the way he doesn’t hide the fact. His flat features would have once caused a pang of anger to shoot through you, as if annoyed he would be staring at you with such dislike for doing nothing. Now, knowing Yoongi better, you can’t help but wonder if the look isn’t dislike at all. Instead of a pang of anger, you only flush and whip your head to look away from him. Your heart still leaps, though the feeling is nothing like annoyance.

You spend the party trying to avoid Yoongi. Once you would have done it because you had no desire to be around him. Now, it’s because you can’t trust your feelings.

You drink, have one too many of Jimin’s ‘special’ cocktails that taste like pure alcohol. You laugh at Seokjin trying to convince everyone why dressing as John Tucker is the best outfit. You watch as Olivia walks in dressed as Chris Pine and Jungkook finally gets to spit on her lap, it’s gross and yet Olivia laughs like it’s the best joke they’ve ever made.

For what feels like forever, you have fun. Sure, there have been glimpses of fun since your dad passed, but tonight you feel fully free of everything. For once there is no guilt or overbearing thoughts of something you should be doing instead.

You manage to avoid Yoongi until late in the night when, stood alone, someone comes to stand by you.

“How you getting home?”

You twist to look at Yoongi, a smile still on your face. For once it doesn’t drop when you meet his flat face.

“Huh?” You glance to where you see people leaving; is it already that late? “Oh, I’ll just walk.”

He raises an eyebrow, gives you a look to let you know that’s not an acceptable answer. You flounder, search for something to say to distract him.

“Did you see Namjoon scuttle?”

“Scuttle?” He questions and you beam, mission success.

“Yeah, you know,” you pincer your hands in a crab like motion. “Scuttle, like the crab he was dressed as.”

“Oh,” he elongates the word. “Was that what he was?”

You giggle. You actually giggle at something Yoongi said. And it wasn’t even that funny a joke.

“God, I’ve had way too much to drink.”

He lets of a small, huffed laugh. “I’d don’t know whether to be offended or not?”

You laugh again, this time swaying a little because of it. As if on instinct, Yoongi’s hand comes out to steady you.

“Alright, let’s get you home.”

You roll your eyes. “I can walk home alone.”

“You’re on my way.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, then it’s not much of a detour.”

“In a place this small it really is.”

He levels his gaze at you, clearly done with coming up with reasons and is just going to try and scare you into agreeing. It doesn’t work. But you still find yourself stopping from putting up a fight. It’s an effort to argue and not any other reason that you don’t continue to push.

Yoongi stands by your side as you go round and say goodbye to everyone. Surprisingly nobody comments on it. You thought Jungkook would for sure make some sarky comment, but maybe he’s had one too many too as he just pulls you into a hug and whispers something about having a good night but making sure you’re safe. Maybe he is concerned about the mysterious thing killing animals after all.

You walk in silence. Your focus on your feet as they move through the pitch-black night.

“Did you have a good night?”

Yoongi’s cheeks are tinted with colour from the cool night air when you look over at him. His gaze is set forward, avoiding eye contact after the awkward question. You don’t think anything of it.

“Yeah. Hoseok even let me try on his astronaut’s helmet.”

“Wow,” you look at him, catch the smile he’s trying to hide. “That’s a big word for you.”

You laugh, the tension between the two of you instantly disappearing. Once that joke would have rubbed you the completely wrong way. Now you find yourself wanting him to keep talking.

“Says the man dressed as a cat.”

He hums, the noise deep, developing in his chest and vibrating through his throat. Fuck. Has Yoongi always had that low a register? It’s not something you’ve picked up on before. Not in this way anyway. Not in a way that makes you look at him like you’ve never seen him before. The smirk growing on his face tells you he knows you’re looking at him.

You clench your jaw, eyes darting from his face up.

“Hey! Your ears have gone!” He reaches up, mock shock on his face as his hands go to his actual ears. You giggle, again, and gently slap his arm. “Your cat ears.”

“Oh right,” he says as if he didn’t know that the whole time, the wide smile on his face telling a different story, one that says he’s proud of the reaction he got from you. “They were making my head hurt.”

“Oh,” you pout, looking back in the direction of your house, you’re nearly at the top of your lane now. “I thought they looked cute.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond and you think nothing about what you’ve said.

“Did you have a good night?”

“Yeah, possibly one of the better Halloween parties Liv has thrown.”

“Really? You weren’t a fan of the 80’s themed one?” You say it in a teasing way. No one was a fan of the 80s themed year. Firstly, there was a theme that wasn’t just Halloween. Secondly, it was back before you all went to university when everyone drank way too much, Jimin didn’t know his limit and threw up in the first twenty minutes, Taehyung following close behind merely at the sight. It all went downhill from there.

Yoongi only laughs at the memory, shaking his head at you.

“Don’t take this the wrong way …”

“Always a great start to a sentence.”

You pause, before deciding to just go for it. “I never really took you as one to enjoy parties.”

It takes him a second but he laughs at your words, a small huffy laugh that implies the words aren’t a surprise to him.

“Because I’m a cat hating, party hating, fun hating sort of guy?”

“No, it’s just …” you look around as if in search for the words, though mainly are trying to avoid Yoongi’s stare. It’s not unkind, it’s just interested and a little intense. “I don’t know, we didn’t really get on growing up.”

“We didn’t?”

You look at him, eyebrows raised in a really? expression. He smirks back.

“Ok, you didn’t get on with me.”

He frowns a little at that one. “I didn’t?” This time it does sound like a question, not an attempt to joke.

“You hated me.”

“I’m not sure that’s true …”

“You changed seats so we weren’t sat by each other in class. You used to boast whenever you got a question right that I didn’t. I’m pretty sure you mocked my choice in shoes one time.”

“Ok, maybe I was a little jealous.”

“Jealous?” The word throws you.

“Well, yeah?” He throws back as if it’s obvious. “I mean you had it so easy.”

“Easy?” Another word you weren’t expecting. This one never being something you’d associate with any part of your life.

“Yeah. You just walked into school one day wearing the uniform like … well … like you did and everyone instantly liked you and then you were sitting next to me and I had no idea how to talk to you. Then you just made it all worse by being so good at literally every subject. You were perfect.” He shrugs, looks across at you and you swear your mouth is popped open as wide as your eyes currently are. Frankly, you’re unsure how you’re still walking. “I was jealous, Y/N.”

You were perfect.

You must have misheard or not understood. But the words, said in Yoongi’s deep tone, just keep cycling through your mind.

You were perfect.

You would never have thought Yoongi would say those words. Because surely that’s not true. He hated you. He would leave whenever you arrived, looked angry when his friends invited you to stuff, was annoyed when you got better marks then him, looked disapproving when you turned up with your tie in the perfect knot and your skirt floating mid-thigh. He hated you.

You were perfect.

But he was jealous? All this time you’ve read his emotions wrong. He was jealous of the girl who felt like she struggled to fit in, who’s mum had just passed away, who was awkward and hated her hair and the spots she’d get across her forehead, who thought every girl in school was prettier and funnier than her. Who thought the boy currently walking beside her was far smarter than her. He was jealous of her?

“This is you, isn’t it?”

He knows it is, but your far away look and the fact you haven’t turned down your lane makes him ask. You look at him, mind still whirling trying to work out what it all means, and nod.

He’s back to being awkward as he continues to do as promised and take you to your door. By which point you’ve at least made up your mind that Yoongi isn’t as bad as you thought, that maybe you need to give into the fact that you like him more than you make out. If he can admit he was jealous of you – which you still can’t get over!! – then you can admit you like him.

“So, uh, goodnight?” Yoongi says when you manage to unlock your door. Your turn to face him, endeared by him clutching his hands and looking awkward. He once thought you were perfect.

“You don’t want to come in to see your biggest fan?”

His eyes flick over your shoulder as if half considering it. “I should head home.”

“Oh come on,” you reach out and grab his wrist, encouraging him into your house. He doesn’t put up much of a fight to stop you. “I’ll find my dad’s scotch and everything.”

“Oh … you don’t have to –”

“It’s only going to waste in the cupboard anyway.”

You’ve dropped his hand now and while he awkwardly stands by the door watching you, you’re a riot of movement around the kitchen.

“Honestly, it’ll be nice to see it enjoyed,” Yoongi still doesn’t say anything as you grab two glasses and a half empty bottle of scotch. “I hate the stuff. But still find myself having a sip from time to time,” you pause, even having had a drink you find it hard to admit. “It’s probably weird, but it helps me remember him, helps me feel closer to him sometimes.”

“It’s not weird,” Yoongi is quick to reassure you.

You nod, thankful even if he’s only saying it to be kind, and then lead the way to the living room. Setting the glasses down, Yoongi says nothing as you pour large, nearly half full glasses of Scotch. When you settle into the sofa you take your glass with you and find yourself twisting to look at Yoongi.

He’s staring down at the amber liquid, watching as it swirls around the glass. When he looks up at you his face is flat but everything about him is soft.

“Will you tell me about him?”

It’s asked in a way that tells you to say no if you want to.

But the feeling that comes over you is utterly mad because you find yourself wanting to answer him. It’s mad because you never answer that question; not when he was alive and struggling, not when you were the only one there to help him through it, and certainly not since he’s passed. Every time someone has tried to broach the topic of your dad with you, to see if they could help when he was battling cancer, see if you were ok when he was passing away, see if they could do anything when he was finally gone; every time, no matter who it was you’d push them away with a none answer. And yet here you are, wanting to answer. Which is mad because it’s Yoongi. The man who you thought hated you, that you disliked, that you’re now not sure how to feel about. Maybe it’s because of everything that’s happened to the two of you recently, extreme circumstances pushing you together despite your feelings. Or maybe it’s because he's someone that you’re not as close to, someone you feel you could talk to and then not have to see again.

Like most emotions you feel, you know the reason you want to open up to him, you’re just not ready to acknowledge it.

“He was really funny,” you start, and it takes Yoongi a second to realise you’re not saying no. As you talk, he takes a sip of the Scotch, his face warming and his body relaxing as he listens to you. “But in the way most dads are. He loved to embarrass me. I remember once I got 100% in a test, and he would tell everyone who would listen about it. I found it really embarrassing but now looking back I can see he was just really proud of me. He was the same when I got my place at university. He didn’t cry or tell me he was worried; he smiled the whole time he drove me there and left me in my new flat. It must have been hard though, driving his only child off to a new life leaving him all alone. But he was so excited and he obviously didn’t want me to worry about him.”

You pause as you take a sip of your drink, wincing against the strong taste. It helps soften the tightness in your chest though.

“He sounds like he really loved you.”

You smile at Yoongi, sadness still in your eyes. You’re putting on a brave face like you always do when this topic comes up. But for once you don’t deflect, you say what’s actually on your mind.

“I think that’s why I feel so guilty,” you start, finding your glass of Scotch easier to look at than Yoongi. “I hardly came back here, left him all alone while I was out building a career. I even pushed him away at times, used to cancel coming home and say I couldn’t do weekends when he asked to visit. All because I was trying to build a different life.”

You pause again, take another, much larger, glug of your drink. It goes down easier this time and when you look at Yoongi he just sits patiently waiting for you to continue.

“I’m sure you know my dad had cancer,” Yoongi gives a gentle nod as you expected. “He didn’t hide it from me. He didn’t even know he had it until he went to the hospital for something else. But I just wonder if I hadn’t moved away, if I hadn’t pushed him away, if I’d seen him more, maybe I’d have notice something wrong. Even if he hadn’t realised, maybe I would have. Maybe he’d …”

You trail off, not able to say the words. Tears fall down your face and your throat matches the tightness in your chest.

It’s how you always feel when you even think about your dad, let alone talk about him. The guilt and feeling like you never did enough. As if you wasted the time you could have had with him. He did so much for you in his life and you took it all for granted. You feel so rotten. And it’s why you never think about it.

You try and push away all the emotions now, conscious that Yoongi is still sat watching you.

“Sorry,” you smile despite the tears rolling down your face.

“Don’t apologise.”

As you wipe your face Yoongi shuffles closer. You don’t even jump when his hand comes into contact with your knee. It’s done so gently and feels so comforting you let him leave it there.

“I’d offer you a tissue, but I don’t know where you keep them.”

You laugh, spit flying out your mouth. It’s gross but Yoongi is still smiling at you, his thumb now rubbing soothingly on your knee.

“I just … you asked me what my dad was like and now I’m just laying all these unwanted feelings on you,” you laugh again, this time it’s hollow and Yoongi doesn’t join you in it. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he gets you to drag your eyes back to him and does something that shocks you. His spare hand reaches out and wipes away some of the tears you missed, you jump a little at the touch but not enough to get him to stop. “I told you not to apologise.”

You nearly apologise again but manage to stop yourself and just end up nodding instead. Catching the slip, Yoongi smiles at you, his one hand still on your face, the other on your knee.

It doesn’t feel weird, if anything it takes you a while to click who you’re currently sat with, who’s hands are currently on your face and on your knee, who you feel comfortable with and don’t want to pull away from. But you do realise who it is, and however comfortable it feels, part of you thinks how weird it is.

Slowly, you pull away. Part of you wanting to stay in his hands, gaining his comfort. Part of you not wanting to upset him. Part of you still feeling a little weird that you are feeling all of this towards Yoongi and that he’s so willingly giving you this affection.

He doesn’t look offended or upset as you pull away and wipe a hand across your face, he just lets you go. The distance between you increases, but only marginally. There is no longer the length of the sofa between you like when you first sat, though he isn’t holding you anymore, his knee still grazes yours and if you wanted to you wouldn’t have to reach far for his hand.

“Anyway, that’s all in the past.”

Yoongi looks unsure for a second, doesn’t seem to know whether he should say anything that might upset you more or just leave it and let you gloss over everything. Secretly, you get what you want.

“I never knew him, so I realise how this will sound, but you know he’d be proud of you, right?” He pauses, waits a second as if expecting a reply. “And all that stuff, the guilt you feel and the sadness, you really don’t have to apologise, I’m happy you told me. But you shouldn’t feel guilty. It sounds as if he got everything he wanted. His daughter going off into the world and making something of herself. If he really did go round shouting about how great it all was and how proud he was, doesn’t that tell you how happy he would have been to see you achieving everything you did?”

He's right, you know he is. And having opened up for the first time about your guilt, it’s the first perspective outside of your own that you’ve heard. It’s one you’ve not considered or at least one you’ve not let yourself consider.

You sniffle, the noise not cute or delicate. You’re past caring.

“Thanks Yoongi.”

He reaches out and lightly squeezes your knee, though this time his hand doesn’t linger.

“You know, you’re really not so bad,” it’s easier than you had imagined to admit. “I can see why everyone’s friends with you.”

“And here I’ve been hoping you’d be the one to convince them to leave me alone.”

You laugh again, rolling your eyes at the blatant lie for the purpose of comedy. A smile returns to his face as he looks at you and it makes your chest tight for a different reason. Your focus goes to your empty glass. It’s a good distraction, leaning forward to fill it back up, topping Yoongi’s up as you go.

“So, what do you think?”

Even though he’s already drunk plenty of it, he takes a long, slow sip to savour the flavour and give you an honest opinion. You watch as his lips pucker, his Adam’s apple bobs and then his tongue runs a slow trail along his bottom lip. You feel flushed when his gaze finally levels on you.

“I think your dad had good taste.”

There’s movement out of the corner of your eye. Your heart stutters when you notice it, but it truly drops when you look fully up at it.

Of course you’re right by the graveyard.

Of course that’s where you see a shadow like figure darting away from you.

Of course it’s night time and a mist has settled over the village.

Of fucking course.

A deep breath and you’re heading into the graveyard. You contemplate telling someone but then question who you’d tell. If the last few days have told you anything it’s that nobody believes you, or even pretends to show an interest in this.

Well, that’s a lie. There is one person.

It’s at the first noise that you break. It’s only a bird taking flight from the trees but you jump so high, your heart nearly giving out, that you decide to give in. Yoongi hasn’t been that bad recently. Maybe it won’t be so bad telling him.

“Y/N?”

He sounds surprised. His pitch high, you can almost picture him looking down at his phone as if double checking he didn’t misread the name. The mental image almost makes you smile if it weren’t for the more powerful thought that you’re calling Yoongi. Min Yoongi. The guy you’re supposed to hate, who’s supposed to hate you and therefore not answer your call. Especially sounding so –

“Y/N,” his tone is firmer, the question gone.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you stumble over your words, eyes scanning the misty graveyard. “It’s just that, well, it’s probably nothing. And sorry for calling you, you’re probably really busy and don’t need me disturbing –”

“What is it?” He cuts you off.

“Right, sorry,” you say these two words slowly but the following coming in such a rush they sound like one word. “I thought I’d let you know I think I saw something in the graveyard and just in case I die or go missing someone should know where I went so yeah that’s where I am the graveyard.”

“Hang on. Slow down. You’re where?”

“The graveyard.”

He curses before you hear some background noise. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know what he’s doing.

“I didn’t call to get you to come here,” your voice has lost its fear at least.

“Stay where you are.”

“Yoongi –”

It’s your turn to curse at your phone. The fucker hung up on you. The cheek. The fucking ego on that man to think you always need saving. He has some sort of hero complex, that at least might explain why he’s always trying to help you.

You click on your phone, about to call Yoongi back, but are cut off by a branch snapping and when you look up you see something moving in the shadows.

Blood running cold, phone forgotten, you start to move towards it. You’re too loud though, the thing pauses long enough to look at you – at least you think that’s what it does, the dark doesn’t help – and then it’s moving a lot faster in the opposite direction to you.

Cover blown, you shout after it to stop as you try and run after it.

Whatever, or whoever it is, is too fast though. Every one of your steps seeming to be three of theirs.

“Wait,” you shout into the darkness, your breath coming out in a thick fog of white.

You really need to get in better shape. Only a short distance covered and yet you’re panting as you come to a stop. The thing is gone. At least out of sight in the dark foggy night. But there’s something else. A weird smell in the air. When you get your breathing under control you realise what it is.

Your blood runs cold as you stand straight as a rod. Despite the fear you head towards the smell.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wonder around the graves. You find it where you saw that thing, only making you more certain that whatever that thing was, was what you’re after. It’s smaller than the deer you saw in the cottage, but bigger than a fox, but its body is so disfigured that you can’t tell what it is.

You feel sick.

“Y/N.”

You’d nearly forgotten you’d called Yoongi, nearly forgotten he was going to come here. At least this time his appearance doesn’t make you jump.

“Y/N,” his voice is louder and when you look over your shoulder you can see his silhouette outlined by the streetlights behind him.

“Here,” your voice is hoarse, but his head still snaps in your direction. You don’t watch as he stomps in your direction, can just hear his annoyed mutters as he gets closer.

“- told you to stay. Assumed that would be clear enough to mean the entrance of the graveyard not the fucking darkest spot. What if something had –” he cuts himself off when he comes to your side. You expect him to question what he’s looking at but he remains silent. You guess it’s pretty obvious what it is.

“I saw whatever it was,” you say, drawing Yoongi’s attention to you. “I chased it but it –”

“I’m sorry,” his tone it tight, terse and gets you to look at him. His features are just as stern. He looks livid. “You did what?”

“It ran off before I could see what or who it was.”

“Well thank fuck for that,” his tone almost has you stepping away from him in surprise. It’s been a while since you heard him speak to you like this.

“Oh right, sorry. Didn’t realise I had to wait for you to arrive before I went and found out what’s been causing all this.”

“Do you have a death wish or something?” It’s a rhetorical question, still he continues before you can answer with a snarky comment. “I asked you to stay put and wait for me. Not run headfirst into trouble.”

“Yeah, and what help would you have been?”

“Probably none. But at least we would have been together.”

Together. The word feels so weird to associate with you and Yoongi that it makes you pause. Both of you stare at each other through the white fog created by your breath.

“There’s nothing more we can do here,” Yoongi’s voice is softer, still tense but less accusing now. “Shall we leave?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, take one last glance as the dead animal before nodding your head.

Yoongi waits for you to lead the way, closely following behind you. He doesn’t leave your side until you’re safely back at your house. Even then he looks reluctant to leave you.

Yoongi doesn’t appear at your weekly shop. You don’t bump into him in the street. It’s the week off for your games club.

What once would have been a week you’d have loved, now seems weird.

You don’t miss him, but you notice his absence. You find yourself looking for him when the door opens in the grocery shop. You find yourself looking over your shoulder when walk to work. You find yourself listening to Seokjin a little more closely, just in case Yoongi’s mentioned. Everywhere you go, you look for signs of him.

He’s not mentioned. He’s not there. And strangely, you feel it. Even Tofu reminds you of him now.

All of it only pushes you more into working out what’s going around town.

There haven’t been many dead animals in a while, but that doesn’t comfort you. You’re on edge all the time, waiting for something else to turn up. You fear this time it won’t be an animal that you see, which only makes you think about the whole situation more.

The police have gone quiet, not that they were doing much in the first place, but they at least were looking into the abandoned house in the woods. And then there was the graveyard. Maybe it’s moved to another location to sleep, but whenever you try and think of somewhere it could sleep, there’s nowhere.

When you think of all the times you saw dead animals, the time you saw whatever it was in the graveyard. There’s a thread. Thin, but a lead none the less.

You have a plan.

He wasn’t best pleased when you didn’t tell him last time you did something like this. You could text him your plan, or call him, or just not bother saying anything at all. Still, you find your feet walking towards Yoongi’s shop.

The lights are still on and as you approach the glass door you can see Yoongi’s shadow moving around in the back room.

You pause only a beat before knocking on the door. As expected, Yoongi’s head pops out from behind the door to the back, his lips popped open in that way you’ve grown to know is his thinking face. It’s cute.

The thought jolts you. Maybe it’s why you give an awkward wave of your hand, forcing a smile onto your lips as Yoongi tries to smother his as he heads to the door. He doesn’t unlock it before he opens it.

“It wasn’t locked.”

“I noticed,” you say through your forced smile. He makes it hard for you to like him.

“Ok, well you know for next time.”

“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“You coming in or ..?”

“No.”

“Ok,” he pauses, waits for you to explain. As always, his patients outlives yours.

“I, uh, I’m going back to the cottage in the woods.”

His head cocks to the side, surprised. You carry on before he can get annoyed.

“I thought I’d tell you. Only because, you know, you seemed pretty pissed off last time I didn’t.”

A nerve ticks in his jaw. But he just nods his head, his hand slipping from the door.

“Give me a minute.”

And with that he turns and leaves you standing alone at the door.

You fiddle with your fingers, shift your weight from foot to foot. Yoongi’s quick to grab a jacket and appear back at the door. His reaction is expected at this point, but it doesn’t make it easier, the way he comes so easily without question. Especially given the fact that you so easily came here. You’re not one to easily ask for help.

“You alright?”

You force the smile back on your face, not sure if the gesture is reassuring or makes you look more manic. “Yep, good, great. You?”

He hums, you definitely need to chill out. Any second now and he’s going to call it a night before it’s even begun.

Yoongi locks the shop, tests the handle to double check and then you’re both walking.

“What you been up to recently?” You shoot a look at him as if his question proves he knows how much you’ve been missing him this past week. He doesn’t look like he’s been secretly watching you or hearing things through your friends, he looks like he’s genuinely interested.

“Uh, just work,” it’s awkward and it gains you a small smile from Yoongi.

“And works made you want to go back to the cottage?”

It throws you, like most things Yoongi says. It puts you on edge even though he says it lightly, the smile still on his lips.

“Oh come on,” he laughs the words. “Did Jin tell you the police had been back?”

“No,” you mutter.

“Then what’s changed?”

Your whole demeanours changed since first seeing him. You’re on edge, preparing yourself for whatever he’s about to say. You knew he wouldn’t be happy about this, you just hope he won’t talk you out of this.

“Nothings changed,” you say flatly. “I still want to find out whatever’s happening.”

“And you always have to do that when it’s pitch black out?”

He laughs at his joke, you only clench your teeth. His laugh continues as he looks at you, low and light, but meeting your pissed off makes him realise you’re not on the same page.

“Hey,” he mutters, hand coming out clasping your wrist, bringing you both to a steady stop. You don’t look at him, but also don’t pull away. “Let’s go later, when it’s light out. Come back to mine and we’ll have a cuppa.”

You shake your head. No. Being stubborn has never been one of your best traits.

“I have a theory,” you admit. He waits, hand still holding you in place. You take a breath before explaining. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing. But I was just thinking about it and every time I’ve seen an animal it’s been at night, or just as the day’s started. And when we last went to the house it was night and there was nothing there. I just thought, maybe, it hunts at night and if we went now, in the morning, we might see it.”

“Ok,” he says gently. He doesn’t point out that if you waited a couple of hours like he suggested your theory might still be proven. Maybe he sees how anxious you are to do this, how you couldn’t sleep last night after thinking the theory, how the minute you could class the day as starting you got ready to go. His eyes roam your face for a second, his fingers holding onto you for a second longer before letting you slip away “Let’s go now.”

Both of you walk in silence as you head towards the path that’ll lead you to the house. Slipping into the trees the day only grows darker.

You’re lost in thought as you walk. You’d not considered your plan this far in advance, maybe a small part of you had thought Yoongi would stop you, but there he is next to you. Your thoughts turn to whether your theory is right. If that happens then you’re about to come face to face with whatever is doing this. And then what?

As different scenarios flash through your head you get distracted. The darkness, your distracted mind and the tree roots littering the path is a combination that has your feet tripping. Your hands go out to break your fall and while it stops your from hitting your head, it doesn’t stop the pain.

Your hands and knees bang into and then scrape along the ground. The pain starts in your right knee but it flares brighter in your hands. Yoongi is down by your side before you can lift them up to inspect the damage.

“You ok?” There’s no hint of anything but worry.

His one hand is light on the small of your back, while the other goes to your hands as you lift them from the ground, not quite touching but hovering around them, unsure. There’s a sharp intake of breath as you turn them palm side up. You can’t see any cuts, but that’s more because there’s too much blood to see where it’s being produced.

“Let’s get you up.”

Yoongi’s hand moves from your back to your hip and though you don’t need his help, it’s nice to have his support as you scramble up from the ground. You know he’s a one step at a time sort of guy and you also know with how bad this cut is what his next words are going to be. It’s why, when you’re stood up, you turn your hand away from him, push it down to your side as you stand facing him.

“It’s ok,” you say before he can speak.

A frown forms between his brows. “We should go clean that.”

“It’s fine.”

“There was a lot of blood.”

“And yet, it’s fine. We should keep goi–”

“You must be joking if you think we’re still going.”

“Then call me Nicole Byer, because clearly I’m fucking hilarious.”

“I don’t know who the fuck that is,” Yoongi says flatly. “I’m not taking another step unless it’s in the direction of my house.”

“Relax,” you say despite clenching your own jaw. “It doesn’t hurt that muc- ow!”

You accidentally brush your hand against your leg causing a flash of pain. One of Yoongi’s eyebrows quirks, a sign of him letting you know he’s right. Your jaw only clenches tighter in response.

You’re about to protest further but the sound of a branch snapping behind you stops you.

Yoongi’s eyes shoot over your shoulder as you grow tense. There’s another snapping twig, closer. You can only watch Yoongi’s reaction to whatever is playing out behind you. The way he tenses, his eyes wide, his skin losing all its colour, only terrifies you.

You open your mouth, about to ask what’s happening as you start to twist. Yoongi’s eyes snap to you. He lunges, takes the step to close the distance between you and closes his arms around you.

“Shhh,” he whispers into your hair.

There’s no comfort in this embrace. It’s all fear and tension. You want to know what he’s seen, need to know what’s going on. As if predicting this, Yoongi speaks again.

“Don’t move.”

Despite the words you do the opposite, Yoongi’s hands tighten around you in response.

“What is it?”

He shushes you. Not rudely, but in a quiet way, a panicked way. It only makes you want to twist in his arms more, which only makes his grip tighten.

“Y/N,” he mutters, his lips right by your ear. “Please, for once, listen to me.”

“What is it?” You whisper back.

“Nothing.”

It takes a second for him to reconsider. And then before he can clarify his hands are on your hips and moving you from his front to behind him, his whole body a shield as another branch snaps, the closest one yet.

You can see it now. Over Yoongi’s shoulder, hidden behind his back.

It’s like nothing you’ve seen before. More human than animal. But less human than anything you’ve seen.

It’s walking slowly towards you. Its movements distorted, head jolting from side to side with every step it takes, arms held out limp in front. It’s wearing clothes but they’re ripped and torn showing scarred skin underneath. Its head, if you can call it that with hollow sockets where eyes should be, thin to little hair and a flattened nose, lifts in the air.

It’s stops then. The action should feel comforting, if only a little, but it moves its head around as if sniffing the air.

And then it looks right at you.

Body no longer moving, you feel like your breath has stopped. Yoongi’s grip tightens on you, his whole body tensing as if he’s readying to fight.

The blood on your hand, you realise. The cut that you created only moments ago is what has brought it here. It kills animals, devours them presumably for food. And now it’s sniffing the air as if it’s about to do the same to you.

And while you’re utterly petrified at whatever that thing is and what it might do to you, the strangest sensation washes over you.

You don’t want Yoongi to die.

Sure, you also don’t want to die. But he told you to run while he was going to stay and fight. He’s now protecting you like a human shield. He’s now gripping you as if he’s feeling exactly the same way about you.

Oh god. Do you like Yoongi? Like, more than like Yoongi?

The answer doesn’t have time to form in your mind as the thing jerks, drawing your attention back to it. Yoongi pushes back into you, clearly also shocked, but in doing so he knocks into your hand, pain coursing from the cut there. He must realise, hearing you suck in your breath or maybe from your body language, because his hold on that side of you softens.

Both of your focus still on the thing and waiting to see what it’s going to do.

To your surprise, and utter relief, it takes one last sniff, turns and then runs away. Both you and Yoongi stay where you are for a second longer, just in case. But only a couple of seconds pass from it disappearing from view to Yoongi letting you go enough to turn and face you. He doesn’t say anything as he grabs your good hand and starts to lead you out of the woods and back to his place.

Your hand is clutched to your chest as Yoongi tears around the room. You thought you’d seen Yoongi mad before, but it was nothing in comparison to this. You can’t even take in his home, which you’ve never been in before, due to your eyes tracking his every movement, unsure what he’s going to do next.

He tears open a cupboard door so forcefully you think he might rip it off from the hinges. You bite back any words you might have; you don’t want to add to his annoyance, but your hand is also throbbing so badly that you just want something to help with the pain.

“Why do you keep doing it?” He spits the words out as he searches in the cupboard for anything to help mend you. “Why do you care so much? You always hated this place and yet you’re so fucking obsessed with that thing.”

You tuck your hand a little closer, blood dripping onto your already ruined top. Your stare is firm when he twists round to look at you, bandages in his hands. His look is like thunder, still you hold it. Tension rises as neither of you break the stare or the silence in the room. When Yoongi speaks it’s soft, almost croaky with emotion.

“You could have gotten us killed.”

Your eyes drop at the words. Maybe it’s the shock setting in that’s making him lash out, but he doesn’t need to say it out loud, you were both there and you both know you were only there because of you and that thing only came because of your blood. You almost killed him. And what’s even more confusing is he was going to act as your human shield.

There’s a deep sigh before the sound of feet shuffling towards you. A scrape of a chair before you see the tops of Yoongi’s feet. When he sits his legs are framing yours, his knees almost touching yours. Still you don’t look at him.

“Let’s see it then.”

His voice is gruff and doesn’t inspire you to give over your injured hand. Yoongi must realise, he’s much more observant than you thought. Shuffling closer his knees press into yours as he lays his hand face up on your lap so you can see it.

You look up at his face. There’s a pleading look in his eyes, like he really wants to help you.

Reluctantly you lay your hand in his, keep your eyes on his face so as not to see the cut. Yoongi looks down at it and lets out a sharp hiss. The noise makes you start to pull away but he’s quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist and stop you.

“It’s ok,” he mutters, his free hand trying to sort out the things he needs.

“It doesn’t sound ok.”

“There’s just more blood than I expected.”

“My now red shirt didn’t allude to that?” Your tone is snappy despite the attempt to joke.

“It’s ok though,” he pauses, looking up at you with a smile. “I don’t think I’m going to have to cut it off.”

You flush, have to look over his shoulder to stop the tightness in your chest. It’s a terrible dad joke, something Seokjin would say, and yet you find it loosening you.

“I’m going to clean your hand,” he goes back to his muttering. “It might sting a little.”

The wipe touches the outside of your palm, as far from the cut as possible. Yoongi works it over your skin in gentle swipes, getting closer and closer to the cut. He pauses before he wipes the cut and then, holding your hand firmly in his, he runs the wipe over it. Instinctively you try to close your hand, but Yoongi doesn’t let you.

“It’s ok,” he says, gently. “Just a little more and then it’ll all be over.”

He continues, muttering about how he has to do it to stop any infection, how the cuts not that bad but maybe you should go to the doctors in the morning and keeps repeating how close to finishing he is.

He doesn’t say anything as he puts some cream on your cut and then wraps a bandage around your hand. It gets a little unnerving. You liked his gentle mutters, found comfort in it. But the silence is horrible, worse even then when he was slamming the cabinet doors. At least then you knew how he felt. Now, you have no idea.

“Thanks,” you say as he twists away from you and starts to clean. The only thing that gives you a little hope you haven’t completely messed this up is that he hasn’t drawn completely away from you, his knees are still firmly pressed into yours.

You nudge your leg into his. His movements stall for a second, not much but enough to create another spark of hope. Still, he doesn’t look at you, just continues to clean. Or maybe he’s just pretending to clean.

You move to knee him again, a little harder, a more distinct movement to tell him you want him to look at you.

The smile that was starting to grow drops as Yoongi pushes away to stand.

Eyes wide, you follow his movements. Heart pounding in your throat you watch as he runs a hand down his face.

Maybe you misread everything. Maybe these feelings aren’t two sided. Maybe Yoongi is genuinely just being nice. But how could you have read this all so wrong? As if to answer the question you silently watch him for any signs.

He goes back to cleaning up, winding up bandages, creating a neat little line of safety pins, something for the sake of nothing. He’s avoiding you; being near you, looking at you, talking to you. Everything. And it only makes your heart pound that bit harder.

You should leave him to it, you shouldn’t push him. But something makes you reach out and take his wrist, the same gesture he’s done to you so many times before. It gets him to stop his movements if nothing else. But he doesn’t look at you, just stares down at the counter.

“Yoongi,” you whisper his name. It’s spoken like a question, one you’re not even sure the meaning of.

His eyes flick to you, his body still facing away from you, your hand still wrapped around his wrist.

An unknown confidence sparks inside you despite the fact your throat tightens. You swallow before slipping your hand lower. Yoongi lets you lace your fingers with his, his eyes tracking the movement before they look back at you, a small frown now between his eyes. You try not to worry about how your actions could be a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” the words are said as gently as his name was.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to apologise.”

You nod, not sure what he wants you to say instead. He doesn’t enlighten you to what he does want and the fact only makes you more desperate. There was a time, not so long ago, when you wouldn’t have cared what Yoongi thought of you, in fact, him ignoring you would have been welcomed. You would have done anything to push him away. But now, you don’t want that.

“Yoongi,” your voice sounds pleading as you push yourself to stand. He doesn’t back away, doesn’t pull his hand out of your grasp, so in the end you’re chest to chest with him, bodies not quite touching.

“I don’t get you,” he says, and though it’s not what you want to hear, you’re so relieved to hear him talk that you just want to hear him continue. Because you can’t lose him too, all your other friends didn’t believe you, they left you to do this alone, only Yoongi stayed by your side and now after one mistake, you can’t lose him too. “I don’t get why you keep pushing this.”

You know why. You may not have realised the day you saw that dead bird in your kitchen or when you started to realise that wasn’t an isolated incident. You didn’t read into it, probably because it was too painful to admit. But now you know why. You just can’t seem to admit that to Yoongi.

Your eyes dart over his shoulder. “Because that thing is killing animals in –”

Panic. That’s all you feel as Yoongi shakes his head and starts to pull away from you. Heart hammering you chase after him, scramble to reattach your hands.

You can’t lose him too.

“Because so many things have died in my life, so many people, that I can’t risk any more dying.”

The words fly out of you. They ring around the room in the silence that follows. Neither of you are moving anymore. Yoongi stopped at your admission and you followed suit not long after. His brow is furrowed even though you thought he would have guessed that was the reason why, just wanted you to admit it, show you trust him.

It pains you to carry on. But it’s as if now you’ve said one thing, you can’t stop.

“Because my mum died. And then my dad. And honestly, I can’t let anyone else die,” your voice is pained, starting to take on a husky quality as the emotions start to build in you. “Because that thing is starting to kill bigger and bigger things and who’s to say it won’t be Jin next, or Liv … or you.”

It doesn’t look like it was the answer he was expecting. But as soon as the first tears slips out of your eyes he’s back on you, arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest, lips by your ear as he tries to sooth you.

“I can’t … let … anyone,” your words stop coming out, throat closing as tears continue to fall down your face and sobs wrack your body.

Yoongi pulls you tighter against him, letting out a soothing shush in your ear.

“It’s not going to kill anyone. I won’t let it.”

You nod, even knowing Yoongi has no power over that. Your throat is too tight to speak.

“Everything’s going to be ok.”

It doesn’t feel that way but you want to believe him regardless. You trust him and over the past few weeks you’ve started to rely on and lean on him for support. Even if he can’t do anything, maybe it’s best you start letting someone in, help hold the load that’s been weighing so heavily on you. Together, that’s the words Yoongi used and it’s one you need to start believing in.

Your breath comes out as a shudder as you pull away from Yoongi’s chest, just enough to be able to look into his eyes. They’re full of concern as he flicks between yours, deep gorges of worry lining his forehead.

Neither of you move. Neither of you speak. You’re hardly even breathing as you stare at him from what feel like a breath away.

A tension rises between the two of you, one you’ve felt before, but this time there’s nothing causing it to break and you find yourself not wanting to break it.

It’s you that leans in. It would feel like a risk but knowing everything Yoongi has hinted at about how he feels – or at least felt – about you and after growing so much closer over the past few weeks, you’re confident he wants this as much as you do. And you know, or at least can guess, that the first move will always have to come from you. There’s too much troubled history between you and Yoongi seems like one of those guys that wouldn’t be able to read a sign if it was right in front of him.

He’s still when your lips touch his and you’d bet if you opened your eyes you’d see him looking back at you. Lips curling at the edges at the thought of how affected you’re making him, you push further into him, take his bottom lip between yours and tug it gently.

You feel him gasp, his fingers tightening on your hips. You smile again as you start to pull away. But Yoongi’s finally woken up from whatever shock possessed him. He chases after you, so eager that he pushes too much of his weight into you causing you to have to step back.

Still in his arms you laugh as your lips pull apart. How have you gone from Yoongi slamming doors and shouting at you that you nearly killed him, to this? It’s surreal.

Holding you steady in his arm Yoongi attaches his lips back on yours. There’s no laugh on his lips and he effectively kisses yours away.

There’s so much want in his kiss. His fingers curling around to your back, tugging you impossibly closer as if he needs more and more of you, wants to make sure he’s not missing out on a single thing.

All your thoughts simmer down until only those of Yoongi are left. The feel of his hands, so large, on your back. The push of his legs against yours. The taste of his tongue as it pushes against yours. The feel of his slightly chapped lips. The smooth plane of his nose running along yours, dragging along your skin as he twists and turns his head to get the perfect angle to kiss you. The coolness clinging to his hair as you tangle your fingers in it.

Every part of him is a contrast. And every part of him you want more of.

You push into him, too hard to begin with so that he has to take a step back. You laugh while Yoongi remains serious, hands on your hips dragging you back onto him. His lips steal your laugh, swallowing it as his hands start to roam your body. Laugh turning into a moan, you arch up into him, try and silently encourage him as your own hands wonder the panes of his body.

He’s solid. Far more than you thought he would be.

You shift, your thigh grating along his body. You’d not noticed before, your bodies pressed fully against him, but obviously not there. He’s hard. And now you’ve felt it you realise how much he must be straining in his pants. While Yoongi tries to twist away, get back to the position you were in where you couldn’t feel him pressing into you, you try to chase the feeling of him. Because, damn, is that how turned on he is from making out with you?

“Stop,” he pulls away, hand firm on your hips to make sure you follow the command, the other going down to his crotch to adjust himself.

You smile at him, glance down at where his hand is to see what you’ve only felt until now. When you look back up at his face, he’s finding it hard to hide the amusement he’s feeling.

Pushing forward you steal a kiss before he can stop you.

“Do you have a bedroom in this place?”

The question should be obvious but it seems to throw Yoongi off, the hand on your hip tightening as his face quirks in surprise. Your heart squeezes.

“You know, so we can …” you drift off, not quite able to spell it out so plainly. Still Yoongi doesn’t say or do anything, your words seeming to freeze him. “Unless you just want to continue making out in your kitchen?”

His eyes flash to your lips then just as quickly go back to your eyes. Colour lights his cheeks. You think he’s going to chicken out, think you’ve moved too fast or said something wrong, read him wrong, but then he’s moving. He nearly grabs your injured hand, but just as his fingers graze the bandage wrapped around your hand he pulls away. You laugh as you hold out your other hand. Back to being serious Yoongi takes your hand and leads you through his house.

You catch glimpses of his house as you head through his hall and up his stairs. It’s not much smaller than your house, a narrow hallway leading to some steep stairs. There aren’t many photos, not a lot to tell you about the man in front of you. A few pieces of art, even fewer photos, all on white walls; clean and tastefully placed, rather than the more chaotic and colourful approach you take.

It’s very Yoongi, you realise. And the fact that doesn’t worry you tells you everything.

As soon as you walk through Yoongi’s bedroom door, you’re back on him. Tugging his hand, you get him to twist towards you before you push into him and place your lips back on his. Even as your tongues tangle you don’t stop moving. Your hands go under his t-shirt, feeling the smooth yet hard panes there. You feel his muscles go taught as your hands go higher.

You smile against his lips, satisfied with the reaction you gained. Your hands start to go higher but stop when Yoongi’s hands take a handful of your ass. Gasping you pull away from him, pulling your hands out from under his top you lightly slap his chest.

“It’s a good ass,” he defends, as if that would help.

You hit him again, still soft but a little harder so that you push him backwards. He laughs and when you go to push him again, he takes your wrists in his hand. He easily tugs you back into his arms, keeping your hands pressed between you as he gently kisses you.

Nipping and tugging, he pulls your lips gently between his teeth before kissing the spot better. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips but when you open up for him, he doesn’t go in. He’s teasing you and while it frustrates you, it really turns you on.

Building you up to a point where your hands are tugging to be out of his grasp, he finally lets you go.

You tear at his clothes, struggle for a second to find the hem to his top but when you do you break away from his lips to tug the material over his head. Making the most of the opportunity, Yoongi rids you of your top in a similar manner, his eyes roaming your chest appreciatively. Rolling your eyes you reach behind you and remove your bra, giving him something to actually look at. Colour tints his cheeks but his eyes don’t move away.

“You just going to stand there?” You smile, working at the button of your jeans.

Your trousers are halfway down your legs before Yoongi comes back to himself, the colour remaining on his cheeks as his hands go to his trousers.

“You got a condom?” You say when you’re both naked and your lips are back on each other, the back of your knees touching the bed.

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters but doesn’t move from the spot in your arms.

Too transfixed by him, it takes a second for you to do anything. “Are you going to get it?”

He hums against your lips. “In a minute.”

You giggle, the noise swallowed by Yoongi. Still neither of you break from each other.

A minute passes and then another. Hardly any time but enough time for you to want more.

“You going to get that condom?” You say against his lips, only gaining a hum in response.

It feels like torture to pull away from him. You let your legs dip beneath you as you sit down on the bed behind you. Yoongi’s hands fall away from your side, your lips feeling cold without his on them. Now much lower, your eyes are level with one of Yoongi’s other attributes. Only having seen it straining against his trousers before now, you can’t help but admire his hard, thick cock. You don’t even realise you start to lean towards it until Yoongi steps away, a deep laugh leaving him.

His hand wraps around himself as you continue to watch. Dragging your eyes up to his, you curl your lips into a smile. He doesn’t react, his face flat as he stares down at you. You swallow, swear a pool is starting to form between your legs. And then he nods his head to the headboard, and you know you’re dripping.

He’s silent as he drifts away from you, cock still wrapped up in his hand. Your eyes track him as he walks to his draw. He pauses before looking over his shoulder at you. Fuck. He doesn’t have to say a word to get you shuffling back up his bed.

The draw opens and as Yoongi walks back over to you he rips open the foil pack, dumping the rubbish on the floor but keeping the condom rolled up as he crawls onto the bed. Your breathing feels heavy and laboured as he crawls towards you and then knees either side of you, shuffles over you. He stops only when his knees are level with your hips.

You watch, breathless, as Yoongi kneels over you and rolls the condom down his length.

Is this happening? Are you really about to have sex with this guy? It’s not even that, are you really about to have sex with Yoongi? The guy who hated you, who you disliked, who you couldn’t even be in the same room with only a few months ago.

Even as you watch him rolling the condom on. Even as you’re lay naked beneath him. It’s hard to believe.

“Hey,” the word makes you drag your eyes up to Yoongi’s face, now full of concern rather than lust. “You sure you’re ok with this?”

You nod, then realise that you should verbalise your feelings. “Yeah.”

“We can stop. We don’t have to go any further.”

“I want to,” you reach a hand up and he leans in so you can more easily run your hand along his jaw. It’s a contrast to all the heat between you up until now. “I just can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Me either.”

You feel like you mean it in different ways. The way Yoongi says it doesn’t make you think he means he can’t believe he’s about to have sex with the girl he hated not so long ago. No, he looks like a man who’s dreams are all coming true.

Yoongi leans down, chest resting on yours as his lips touch yours. Slowly, deeply, with so much love that you try not to read into, you kiss each other. Tongues twisting against each other, teeth clashing, lips pushing and pulling.

You reach down between your bodies but before you can get to where you’re aiming, Yoongi’s on you. In that all familiar way his hand encompasses your wrist. He doesn’t even have to break the kiss as he drags your hand back up your body and pins it over your head. The whine you let out is halfway between pleasure and dissatisfaction. You want more and you want it now.

Yoongi is slow to give it to you. His hand pinning one of yours above your head, the other injured one he’s more careful with.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he mutters against your lips. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You’re so drunk on him that you can’t comprehend the words just yet. Arching up into him you just try and let him know how much you want him too. Still, he takes his time with you.

Kissing you for another excruciatingly long minute, Yoongi finally reaches down to grab the one thing you want. He never breaks the kiss as he runs his tip between your folds, but when he comes to rest at your entrance. Forehead pushing against yours, his breaths are heavy as they mingle with yours, chest heaving so much that it dips low onto yours.

He doesn’t push into you, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t kiss you or move. Just looks down between your bodies breathing so heavily you begin to wonder whether it’s him that’s not ok with this.

His hand now loose on your wrist you easily pull out of his grasp. Gently your run your fingers through his hair, his eyes flicking to yours at the gesture. You don’t rush to speak, let the moment linger for a second.

Eyes now on yours, you don’t even get a chance to speak before Yoongi’s pushing into you. Just the tip to start. In and out in slow yet satisfying motions. Your eye contact never breaks. Even as he starts to push deeper into you, even when the pleasure becomes so much you have to fight to keep your eyes open, your contact never breaks.

Pushing your feet onto the bed you angle your hips so you can push up into Yoongi every time he grinds down into you. Deepening how much Yoongi goes into you, increasing the pleasure, which seemingly only gets Yoongi to stop.

“Fuck,” he elongates the word as he comes to a stop fully in you, his eyes closing and head dipping. “Please don’t do that.”

It takes you a second. He doesn’t want you to help him? Only wants you to lie there looking pretty? But then it occurs to you.

“What, this?” You say as you clench around him.

He lets out a low growl like sound, his jaw tight as he angles head to look back at you.

“Just give me a minute, ok?”

You smile, at least it seems that one thing hasn’t changed, your joy for winding him up hasn’t diminished. “You going to come so early?”

A nerve in his jaw ticks, his eyes darken.

“And what you going to do, huh?” You carry on when he doesn’t respond. “If I don’t stop?”

You wait a second and then smirk as you clench around him.

“No, seriously,” he says, voice strained as his chest buckles in towards you. “I need a second.”

You bite back your laugh because that’s not going to help this. Hand going to his head you run soothing lines across his scalp, pushing him to relax into the crook of your neck. It’s flattering, honestly, because even though you’re not gaining much physical pleasure right now, Yoongi being so affected by being inside you is such an ego boost.

Slowly, as if not wanting to move too fast too quickly, Yoongi begins to move again. His head remains where it fell on your skin, his forehead pushing into you, lips hovering just over your skin, breath coming out in huffs that fan out across your skin.

His pace builds. From long, slow movements, to faster and quicker thrusts. Your head falls back, you can’t stop yourself from arching up into him, your hips gyrating into Yoongi on their own accord. This time he doesn’t tell you off, doesn’t stop, just keeps going.

“I’m going to come soon,” he admits more breath than words.

You can’t even speak, words losing all meaning before they can leave your mouth. Instead you hum out your agreement. You’re so close, his tip running along every seam within you.

He shifts on the bed, skin becoming slick with sweat, he adjusts his knees either side of you so he can thrust deeper but slips as he does so. Though not graceful, it pushes him into you at such an angle that has you groaning out.

“Oh,” he says in his own bout of pleasure, pausing just long enough to feel you loosen around him before thrusting into you again, trying and succeeding to hit that same spot. You twist in pleasure beneath him, the coil in your stomach knotting and tightening. “That’s the spot?”

You don’t respond, can’t respond, as Yoongi leans over you hold your hip on the side of your injured hand and your arm on the other side, pinning you in place as he thrusts again. He makes it harder to move, puts you in a position you’re at his mercy. You’ve let him know your weak spot and he’s going to use it against you.

The moans fall from your mouth of their own accord as Yoongi punctuates every spot by making sure he hits that spot within you. Every time you can flutter your eyes open you see his own face contorted in pleasure, screwed up in a way that lets you know he’s fighting every instinct to come.

Reaching a hand between you, you sloppily place a finger on the bunch of nerves to help you get to your release. With every thrust you feel Yoongi’s skin on the back of your hand. With every thrust the coil in your centre tightens and tightens.

“You close?” Yoongi can barely get the words out, his hips never stopping for a second. “Please tell me you’re close.”

You let the question go unanswered again. Unable to answer him. But yes, you’re so fucking close. And as if spurred on or maybe just growing impatient or possibly just chasing his own release, Yoongi dips back down onto you, his hips flush with yours as he puts more power behind each thrust. One, two, three, four short but powerful thrusts is all it takes for you to come. And on the fifth Yoongi stutters and comes in the condom.

His hips continue to move, slower, shallower, as he mumbles words you can’t hear against your skin.

Too tired to move, you both stay like that for a few minutes, when Yoongi finally pulls out you’re already half asleep. You try to rouse yourself, you should head home but Yoongi’s hand grazes your forehead.

“You should sleep,” he mutters.

Too tired to protest or think much about where you’re with, how significant it could be to stay the night, you fall asleep.

The last thing you’re aware of is a light press of lips on your temple.

A twig snaps.

Your heart hammers as you look around the woods. It’s so dark but the moon is bright tonight and it’s letting you see the outlines of the trees around you, but nothing else.

Another twig snaps. This time louder. Closer.

You twist, heart hammering as you look behind you.

There’s nothing there and it only terrifies you more. There’s something out there, watching you, getting closer and you can’t see it.

Snap.

You twist a final time and there it is. Limbs disjointed. Movements jolty. You watch as that thing takes another slow step towards you. It’s still far away, but it’s getting closer. You would twist and run but when you try and move this time you find you can’t. Looking down your feet are in thick, wet mud.

Panic sets it. Withering and pulling and fighting you try to escape the mud keeping you trapped while that thing gets closer and closer.

Snap.

You want to scream, but your voice catches in your throat. Silent and stuck you become a victim to whatever it wants to do to you. You can’t escape.

You watch in horror as it tilts it’s head in that now familiar way, seeming to sniff the air. You expect it to twist away like it did before. Expect it to be repelled rather than attracted to your scent. What you don’t expect is its head snapping in your direction.

You finally let out a scream as the thing comes running towards you.

You wake with a jolt. Feel sweaty in the bed from the dream you just had. Heart still pounding from what you’ve just witnessed.

Just a dream, you try to reassure yourself, despite it feeling so real.

The next thought that goes through your head is that this isn’t your bed. The arm draped over your waist isn’t something you normally wake up to. And yet it doesn’t add to your panic, if anything it helps calm you down.

Twisting, you roll over so you’re facing the person next to you.

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy with sleep, barely open as a smile transforms his face.

“Morning.”

Your stomach flips at the dark husk that is his morning voice. Yoongi’s hand tightens on your hip, his fingers rough on your skin but so nice. It brings back flashes of last night, only heating you up more.

“Hi,” you whisper back causing Yoongi’s smile to broaden.

A silence falls over the two of you, not awkward or weighted but comfortable. Yoongi’s fingers steady on your hip, a small comforting movement on your skin. Sleep still heavy on your brain, laying in bed, in Yoongi’s arms, you feel yourself slipping back into sleep.

That is until you shift, the initial aim to get more comfortable, but your leg bends and pushes a little too close to Yoongi. You feel him, not quite erect but still hard.

Every nerve in your body comes alive, the point on your leg that touched him retains the feeling. Even though you touched him all last night, had him inside you, have now slept in his arms, you still feel unsure how to react. Do you call it out, try and be sexy and cool, two words you’d never associate with yourself? Or do you pretend nothing happened, something you once would have done but now unsure if that’s how you should be?

Yoongi, the ever-patient man, let’s you think it out.

“It’s weird,” you say, surprising both of you by speaking so calmly as well as the actual words. “I would never have thought I’d wake in bed next to you.”

Even though the words come out as rude, Yoongi smiles, his fingers squeezing your side. “The Min Yoongi.”

You giggle, shuffling closer into him, though careful to avoid anywhere your leg touched earlier.

“I’m pretty sure my fifteen-year-old self wouldn’t believe this is happening either.”

It’s something he’s alluded to before, something you’ve never pushed for more information but now you have the chance.

“Because he hated me?” You say it with a smile, a hint of a joke, but it’s a serious question you want to know the answer to.

“I’m not sure that’s the word I would have used.”

“It’s what I always thought.”

“I guess I was a bit of a dick with all the nerves I felt around you.”

You smile, shaking your head.

“You don’t believe me?” He says. When you nod your head he hums in thought, the hand on your hip pulling you even closer to him so that his hand can rest on your back, your chests ghosting each other, your faces only inches away so that you could hear each other even if you whispered. It’s like, even though you’re the only two in the room to hear whatever is spoken, you want to make sure these words are only for the other. “Jimin mentioned there was a new cute new girl who started before I ever met you. He thought anything with a heartbeat was attractive, so I didn’t think much about it, until you walked into that first lesson.”

You can’t smile at anything he’s saying. It all feels too real. Probably because it is real. All these things he’s hinted at in the weeks you’ve been getting to know him and yet it still feels strange to have such a shift in what you believed to be real.

“I don’t really know what I thought. I’ve never really reacted that way at just the look of someone. You just looked so beautiful and perfect and my hormonal self really struggled when you started to walk towards me and I realised you were going to sit beside me,” he smiles as your heart pounds. “Fuck,” he chuckles the words. “Let’s just say I wish I had a pillow.”

“So you asked to move seats?” Your voice is raspy, but neither of you draw attention to it.

“You really I think I could have sat next to you when that was my first reaction to seeing you?”

You laugh, “what did you tell Miss Talbot to get her to move you?”

He shrugs, the colour tinting his cheeks telling you a different story. It warms your heart thinking of that boy you knew from school doing all of this.

“I just can’t believe it,” you say. “I can’t believe you actually liked me.”

He hums again, his eyes flicking over your face. “I think I more than liked you.”

“You had such a funny way of showing it.”

He groans, closes the distance between you, his bare chest pressing into yours as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. You can only laugh.

“I was an awkward fifteen-year-old boy who didn’t know how to react around beautiful girls.”

“How did you ever pull?”

“I hardly did,” he mutters into your neck.

Your heart clenches, your hands going to the messy strands of hair on his head. “Still, I really did think you hated me,” you pause then add, “even when I moved back, I thought you hated me.”

He pulls away from you, holds his weight so that he’s resting above you. His eyes are intense now, no longer half closed and sleepy, but instead are awake and dark.

“I’ve been a dick,” he repeats, no excuses made. “Can I make it up to you?”

You watch as his eyes flick to your lips, a clear message of how he hopes to make it up to you. It’s still weird, still takes you a second to comprehend just who this is and what you want him to do to you.

It’s so different from last night, at least the start when you were the one who was having to push him. That shy, nervous guy is gone now.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

He’s slow to lean down into you. Slower still to move his lips against yours. Nose pushing into you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. There are so many emotions behind everything he does, as if if wants to tell you things without using words.

Even when he pulls another condom out, rolls it on and pushes into you, his movements are slow. His lips reattach themselves as he rolls his hips into yours and you try and not think too hard about the fact that all of this feels like way more than just sex.

The bell tingles and for the first time it doesn’t fill you with dread. What you do feel though, is nerves. They’ve been pumping through you before you even saw Yoongi through the window, well before you decided to come here after work, to be honest they started nearly as soon as you left his house this morning.

The door closes slowly behind you. Your focus purely on Yoongi and the way his eyes drag slowly to yours. They’re indifferent to start, start to warm in welcoming a new customer but then burst with shock before settling on what you think is joy, even if he does school his smile down from the beam to a small curl of his lips.

“Oh hey,” your eyes shoot left at the voice, not realising Olivia was even here. “You’re here.”

Her eyes flick to Yoongi, a question on her face that reads what the fuck is going on? when she looks back at you she plasters a smile on her lips.

“Don’t see you here much.”

“Oh right, hi Liv,” you say, not having thought too much about the fact you’d have an audience for this. Turning to Yoongi you’re surprised he’s moved from behind the till, stepping towards you with that same small smile.

“Don’t you have some stock to deal with in the back?” Yoongi asks Liv, predictably she doesn’t move.

As you step towards him you can’t help but remember that this is the first time seeing him after the night you spent together. It was only this morning, but you didn’t do too much talking before you left his place. You heat, try and fail not to suddenly be awkward. Yoongi’s smile only widens, clearly picking up on your behaviour and is clearly very amused by it.

“Hey,” you mutter.

Yoongi’s smile twitches, his eyes alive. “Hi.”

“You ok?”

“Yep,” he pops the p. “You?”

“Uh-huh,” you smile like a fucking teenager who’s in front of her crush.

“Did you come here for anything in particular?” Yoongi’s tone is playful. “Need my help finding anything?”

You laugh, light and gentle. Your mouth opening to come back with some retort. The words never leave your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” it’s Olivia that speaks this time, dragging your attention to her but failing to get Yoongi to stop looking at you. “What the fuck am I watching right now?”

You heat for a second time, find it hard to drag your eyes back to Yoongi even as you can feel his focus still on you. This whole thing is weird enough without Olivia being here.

“I – uh –” you look back at Yoongi for help, he only raises an eyebrow as if also wondering the same thing. “Well, I’ve come for a book.”

You look back at Olivia and smile, though you’re sure the gesture looks more manic than reassuring. Olivia frowns, eyes flicking back to Yoongi with that same unsure look.

“Ok,” she elongates the word as her eyes drag back to you and your still manic smile. “I guess I have work in the back to do then.”

She hesitates a second, reluctant to go as if waiting for you to shout out for her help any second. Slowly, she drags her feet along the floor in the direction of the back room.

“So what book do you want?” Yoongi’s tone is all amusement and cheek.

“Lord of the Rings?” It’s the first book you think of, one that causes Yoongi’s lips to pop open for a second before he nods and starts to lead you around the room.

He takes you to the corner furthest from the open door leading to the back room. His back to you as he searches the shelves you build up the courage you need.

“So, uh, I didn’t actually come here for a book.”

He turns, his face still alight with amusement. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, though his tone suggested that was pretty obvious.

“Well that’s good because I don’t have Lord of the Rings in stock.”

Your eyes flick to the travel books he’s lead you to as if betrayed by something you didn’t even want. The smile is wide on his face when you look back.

“Who doesn’t stock Lord of the Rings?”

“I can order it in if you want?” He lifts an eyebrow, a laugh on his lips. “But I thought you didn’t come here for it?”

“Right,” you flush, eyes darting away from him. The only way you think you’ll be able to ask him is if you don’t keep eye contact. “I was wondering if you wanted to come to mine for food tonight?”

Your eyes flick back to his face to gage a reaction. The smile doesn’t fade, his eyes don’t dim. He still looks immensely happy and your heart softens in relief, worry seeping away as if he may answer any other way.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “That would be nice. I can get to you by 7?”

You nod, a smile to match his taking over your whole face. Back to being crushing teenagers you stand for far too long just smiling at each other. The only thing to break you being Olivia dropping something heavy in the background. You jump in the air as you hear a loud ‘sorry’ that doesn’t sound very apologetic.

Flushing you look back to Yoongi who still looks like he couldn’t care any less by the rest of the world. As if, as long as you’re stood in front of him, he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.

“Right,” you mutter. “Well, great, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Yoongi nods, you nod back and then remembering the audience flash your eyes to the back room before darting out of the shop to safety.

Tofu darts out the door when you open it. Yoongi’s stood with a bottle of wine and a large bunch of flowers. You awkwardly take them off him, the items getting in the way enough that all you can exchange is a small half-hug. You flush and ramble about having to find a vase as you lead Yoongi to the kitchen.

“I didn’t even ask if you ate meat,” you say, horrified as you put the flowers in an inch of water in the sink. You look around at the nearly finished meal. “Or if you have any allergies. I mean do you? Because we can order something in or I can run to the shop and get –”

Your words trail off when you turn and look at Yoongi leaning against your counter, a wide smile on his face.

“It looks and smells amazing,” he says.

“It’s just roast chicken.”

He hums, then says in a sweet yet sarcastic tone, “just,” as if there’s nothing throwaway about what you’re making.

“Well,” you say, drifting off and turning away from Yoongi’s gaze. You’re so unused to this Yoongi. Or at least having to interact with this Yoongi like it’s a normal thing. “Shall I pour some wine?”

“Tell me where the glasses are and I’ll do it.”

You look over your shoulder, eyebrow raised. “A proper gentleman,” you tease before telling him where he can find them.

You fall into an easy rhythm as you both get on with your own tasks. Yoongi pouring the wine, you managing the food. It’s easy, feels normal. It’s nice.

“Here you go.”

You turn to be given a glass of wine, gladly accept and gulp a large sip. The two of you fall into easy conversation about your days.

There’s a weird noise, a meow that’s high pitched and more a warning than anything. Still half concentrating on Yoongi you flick your eyes over his shoulder.

You see it. Through your kitchen window. It’s in your fucking garden.

You go still before the panic fully sets in. Yoongi’s still talking, his back to the window he’s completely oblivious to what you’re seeing. But that thing is all you can see.

It’s seen something, you can tell. Your heart hammering in your ears, your breath shallow, your mind is slow to catch up to what you’re seeing.

And then you realise.

Your first instinct is to go for a knife you left out to cut the veg. Sharp, powerful, you don’t think any of this through as you start to walk to the door.

“What’s going on,” Yoongi’s words are slow to come to your ears, but as you’re slow to head to the door, he’s faster to work out what’s going on. “Fuck.”

Your hand is nearly on the handle when Yoongi stops you. You fight against him, are deaf to his words begging you to stop.

“It’s Tofu,” you blurt. “It’s going for Tofu.”

Yoongi’s hand slackens enough for you to pull out of his grasp. Banging the door open you rush outside, Yoongi hot on your tail.

“Tofu,” you scream as if your cat is like a dog and would run to you. He doesn’t, his attention is solely on that thing. Cornered, Tofu’s fur stands on end, back arched, tail bushy to make him look as big as possible.

Heart still pounding, adrenaline coursing through you, you start towards that thing. You scared it off once, maybe you can do it again.

Something stops you. A tight hand wrapped around your wrist. When you turn to look at Yoongi it’s with betrayal.

“Give me the knife,” he says

“I’ve got this,” you bite back, trying and failing to escape his grasp.

“Give. Me. The. Knife.”

“No.”

“Y/N,” he warns.

You look at him, glance over your shoulders to see the thing nearly on top of Tofu. His small furry body starting to shake in the corner of your garden. It’s not stopping. If you don’t do something now it’s going to get him. When you look back at Yoongi you’re sure it’s with desperation.

“Please,” you mutter. “Let me do this.”

His hand slackens, his face softening. You know he’s not happy about this, but he can see why you want to do it. You’ve opened up so much to him, more than anyone else. Still, he doesn’t let you go.

“Please,” you plead.

He shakes his head and your heart drops. But then he releases your arm. Before you can turn and carry on your mission he says, “we do this together.”

You nod though really you have no plan and no time to come up with one. In the time Yoongi stopped you, all your confidence has gone. Your adrenaline is still high but fear is starting to creep in.

“Hey!” Yoongi screams, he gains your attention but you’re not sure it’s done anything to that thing. “Over here mother fucker!”

You’d laugh if this were a different situation, but as it is your face stays steady as you look back towards Tofu. That thing is now looking at you, it hasn’t moved this way but is at least looking, head cocked to the side in an almost unnatural angle.

“Hey,” your voice is croaky, and you have to cough a little to clear it. “Get the fuck away from my cat.”

It comes out clearer. The thing turns and looks fully at you now. And then it starts to move.

“Y/N.”

There’s a flash of white fur as Tofu takes the opportunity to run. The thing is moving straight for you now, faster than you’ve ever seen it move before. It’s why Yoongi shouted your name. It’s why you held up the knife, the only thing you could do, hardly enough time to do anything else.

You scream, guttural, more like a war cry than from terror.

You stick your arm out, feel and hear the knife penetrating skin and then muscle and eventually the cracking of bones. There’s a screech from the monster, high pitched and full of pain. It flails it’s arms, catching your arm and ripping the skin. Still, you manage to hold the knife tight, your own screaming mixing with its. Blood sprays out of it and from your arm. Your injured hands gives a twang of pain as you bring it to grip the knife, twist as you pull out and then stab it again.

This time it pulls away. Movements more disjointed but slow as it slinks away from you. Blood pouring from the wounds. You don’t want to watch but you also can’t look away. You did this, you need to watch the consequences.

Slowly, but eventually, it stops moving. The world is silent and the thing is dead.

There’s blood everywhere. Not quite splattered like the bird you first discovered was, but this time it’s all over you.

Twisting to the side, you throw up all over your lawn. Yoongi’s almost immediately there to hold your hair back and rub your back through the whole thing. He whispers words you hardly hear, things about how it’s ok, how there was no other choice, how he’s going to stay with you for however long you need him. You think that might be forever, and you think if you asked he’d agree.

You remain on the lawn far longer than you should before Yoongi coaxes you inside for a wash. He takes care of everything, the long-forgotten food, Tofu still hiding outside, and you.

It’s all over, you let yourself think as you fall asleep in Yoongi’s arms that night.

“You can’t place a Jack on a King.”

“It’s the same suit.”

“Yeah, that means fuck all.”

“They’re both picture cards.”

“Have you even played this game?”

“Pretty sure I’ve played it more times than you.”

“You do realise this isn’t cheat, right?”

“Y/N,” you try to dampen your smile as you look over at the man whining at you.

“Seokjin?” You ask back in a sarcastically sweet way.

“Can you tell your boyfriend to fuck off?”

You hum as you look over at Yoongi, that smile becoming hard to hide. You open your mouth to say as much but Yoongi leans in and kisses your words away. Pushing his shoulder you laugh before he can kiss you again.

“I preferred it when you two hated each other,” Seokjin groans as he fishes his Jack off the pile. You and Yoongi are too consumed by one another to hear.

#Yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi fan fiction #horrorwoodcafe22 #btswritingcafe #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga fan fiction #suga x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff

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yelow-heart · 5 months

Text

Finally, SunnySide Up

Let's think about her design, shall we?

I will admit I didn't get the chance to watch tubbo's stream, so I'll do this based on mostly vibes. So please, do add facts about her on the comments if u can

Ok, let's do this:

Parents: Lenay, Tubbo, Pol and Slimecicle

1 mom that we don't know much about (she could be one of the rabbit hybrids? Maybe, or just a plain gal)

1 human male dad haha he's a filmaker, tho

1 mystery dad that people like to headcanon as goat/satyr a lot or a robot. But could be just a real boy. He is an engineer and has a really cool steampunk vibe going on

1 aberration of green slime and goo dad that can shapeshift into whatever.

She uses She/they.

Uses english, but I don't know about any other. Please enlighten me.

Those sunglasses definitely sparkles with coolness.

Pure swag. The coolest girl around, Leo will have some competition. As her dad would tell you, she's a material kinda girl. I saw someone say that their signs are not yellow, but plated in gold, which is awesome.

She wants to build a train/restaurant with Tubbo. She also likes money.

Dripping in confidence and materialism. Can't wait to see what trauma she's hiding behind the swag and sunglasses. So incredibly sassy and funny and smartpants bitch ass brat child (Affectionate)

If I was to guess favorite color I'd say gold and black. But I have no idea.

For hair: I do absolutely adore the short dreadlocks tighted into a sun shaped bun, with frosted golden tips. Its perfect.

I do see her in a leather or black jeans jacket. Also, completely black outfit, but really expensive colorful sneakers. Maaaybe, the tshirt could be gold.

No stamp or patterns on the teeshirt or pants, just patches and pins on the jacket.

And, I have seen people put a big ol sun on her tshirt, like Lenay has a big potato in hers, but i'd love to put that to the back of her cool jacket instead, what do you think?

About their eye color.. idk. Could be blue, since most of her parents have blue eyes. Or it could be like a cartoon character where we never see her eyes.

And idk how to incorporate a slime thing on her character. She's above goey things, you know?

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp sunny #slimecicle #tubbo #qsmp lenay #polispol

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corviisquire · 2 months

Text

Creatures have colors!!

Left to Right: @moonchild-in-blue @leonsleftbicep @ghxstly-death

@pear-island

Left to Right: @a-s-levynn @foundationsofdecay @polteergeistt

They have been colored along with making some minor adjustments. If anyone wants anything changed please let me know! These creatures are yours so name them whatever you want, develop lore if ya want, and do whatever you want with them. Possible next batch will probably be made later next week.

Art notes under cut :D

I put some music drops because music inspires me too much.

Moonchild-in-blue: The blues and purples!! Opals and the insides of muscle shells inspired me a lot with the coloring (particularly the stars and moon). There’s another shell that has that shiny blue and green lining on the inside but I can’t remember the name of it. It was a full moon last night but I forgot to take a picture! Thought of you but anyways I loved coloring the lady. It was fun but I first I struggled on deciding if I wanted more blue or purple.

Some songs I listened to a lot while coloring this:

Sweet Disposition - Temper Trap

Moon Child - F16s

The Night Does Not Belong to God - you know who

Leonsleftbicep: Colors go crazy! Idk what your favorite colors are but I chose The Blue. I also incorporated some red (for yummy contrast and complementary colors). I realized this looked very vampire media core. EyAH enjoy the critter!

Some songs I listened to while coloring this:

Blue Monday - Orgy

Military Fashion Show - And One

The Apparition - do I really need to say who?

Ghxstly-death: Per your request, red and black was incorporated! Was inspired by Mohg, Lord of Blood, from Elden ring cause he has cool robes and a trident thingy. I really like how it turned out. Like I’ve been doing with every design is adding the bling and I felt gold would work well.

Was resisting the urge to put the entire One EP right here:

Get The Balance Right! - Depeche Mode

Mascara - Deftones

Jaws - Slep tonka

SEVEN HOUR SHITTER (pearisland/perryisle): You use bright colors in your art all the time so we got the colors goingggg. Little guy reminds me of Pumpkin Patch protagonist or Hollow Knight. Idk. Not much to say except TRIPLE DEATH SLIME BARRAGE!!!

No normal music for you. only Kevin Macleod and Pizza Tower ST.

A-s-levynn: More Dark Sun Gwyndolin inspiration… (you can tell I have my dark souls art books open next to me right now). As requested, tendrils/tentacles were added! I think it improved the design a whole lot because it was originally very symmetrical and the tentacles added just the right amount of asymmetry to balance out the overall look. I’m a huge fromsoft fan (playing Elden Ring, waiting for new DLC, have dark souls 1 remastered but haven’t started it yet, have bloodborne Elden ring and DS1/3 art books) so lots of my art has elements from Fromsoft games (neutron activation).

And just like everyone else, some music for the soul:

Too Late - 311

Scared Together - Silversun Pickups

Dark Signs - eepy coin

Foundationsofdecay: Again, taking more inspiration from your blog, colors and stuff. The design had subconscious influence from the game sky: children of the light. Had lotsa fun coloring it. I don’t know much about you like favorite colors or flowers but I tried my best!

Songs that inspired me:

Let It Happen - Tame Impala

Flux - Bloc Party

Rain - tired currency

Polteergeistt: The oarfish colors… A lot Of these characters have cool blues so I tried to use some teal blues to contrast the red/pink(?). “Nintendo switch core” I’m sobbing. I fixed the feet. Now my Pinterest is filled to the brim with fish images (specifically oarfish, sea jellies, and blue lobsters).

The music!!!!!:

UNDERWATER BOI - Turnstile

The Illness (Teenagers Remix) - GoodBooks

Descending - exhausted dollar

Thank you so much. All of you are such lovely people. 🫂💕🫶

#art #my art #digital art #art gift #gift art #gift #creature #oc art #OC

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24hlevi · 1 year

Note

Hello! may I request HCs on Bachira having a ballerina s/o? I just thought it would cute and interesting 🎀 Thank you!

omg yes this is really cool thank you for requesting!

— 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐖/ 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐒/𝐨

Bachira Meguru (Blue Lock) X Gn!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Language

• idk why, but personally i feel like bachira really loves dancing even if he might suck, he just enjoys the liveliness of it and how fun it is

• so when he found out you danced ballet, the boy was all ears to listen and watch you dance your routines

• he tries to make analogies with football to try and understand ballet better, but he doesn't really understand it

• he's like "why are you using your toes so much?? doesn't that hurt???"

• but bachira thinks you look so good when you're dancing

• he would go to all your shows and even just practices, he doesn't care if he's the only non-actual dancer there, he will always be your #1 supporter

• bachira would probably randomly ask you to dance at times, and he's taken note of the songs that you dance to and put them in a playlist

• he thinks it's super cool at how you are able to stand so straight and keep your legs straight as well and spin, he loves when you do those "spinny spins" as he calls it

• bachira might ask you to try and teach him a few moves, just to have some fun and he'd either end up really good at it or absolutely shit, there's no in between

• but he would never want to take away what makes you special! so he would only do a few moves and then give it a rest

• he would love just sitting with you and watching performances of other ballerinas and he's pretty much ":0" the whole time, but he points out how you do some moves better than the professionals and that you should go pro with it

• but of course, bachira would never pressure anything onto you, it's all whatever you want to do, he will support you in every way possible

• even if bachira himself isn't at a performance of yours, he'll tell (force) isagi to go record the show for him and send him the video after so he could text you about it immediately after he watches it

• a bit random but he's probably great at foot massages, like, idk 🤷‍♂️

• bachira would totally learn random things about ballet and lowkey stupid facts to try and impress you on how much he knows about the dance genre, but he doesn't know a damn thing

• fake it til you make it right 😭

• no but seriously, he would learn a lot about ballet just to understand it more and feel closer to you because that's all he wants is to be close with you

• bachira would get you those like muscle relaxers that are patches for your legs and also remember everything you tell him of the different things that help you from the pain and such

• he also loves trying on the outfits you put on, girl outfit or not, he's putting it on (love him) and twirling around like a princess or some shit, he thinks it's funny with the tutu on

• overall, bachira would love that you dance ballet, since it's a dance genre he knows the least about most likely, so it's a fun experience for you both

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iluvtreyparker · 7 months

Text

Not Yet

-smut

-mentions of alcohol and being tipsy (while they both have a few beers I want to stress that they’re not drunk, I didn’t intend for them to be portrayed as drunk and that all sex was consensual!!!)

-this is my first fanfic idk how to format this

-im obsessed w that pic of Trey I hope u imagine that Trey during this cuz that’s what was on my mind

Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday was seeming to grow into an agonizing gift from the gods, or whoever was out there running the show. Waking up seemed to have purpose again; barely making it out the door on time shifted into early mornings crafting carefully coordinated outfits; messy, unwashed hair turned into delicately designed pig tails or braids. For the first time in a very long time, the idea of a class at 9 am was no longer a borderline debilitating task, but like a cup of coffee on a crisp fall morning. Stepping foot in the classroom was like that first sip of coffee passing down your throat and warming your whole body, freeing you from the morning’s chill. You stood before the door, prepping yourself for 50 minutes of pure distraction and inevitable and uncontrollable thoughts, sweet dreams of delusion of a man who you thought barely remembered your name. You sighed deeply. It was time. You pressed open the door and scanned the room for him, in the most natural looking way you could.

“Good morning!” He said with sincerity in his smile.

“Good morning..” you choked out, just a millisecond late enough to make yourself feel awkward about the interaction.

You thought to yourself, “Jesus Christ he was so sweet. He said hello to me. He probably says hello to everyone. But he said it to me today. He wanted you so badly didn’t he. No. No. You have to get yourself together, he’s a man in his 40’s and he is your professor, he’s a very kind man simply greeting you on this fine morning. But wouldn’t it be nice if he wanted me.”

You took your seat near the back of the small auditorium and got yourself settled in. Pretending you be on your laptop you peered above it, getting him in your view. He was still gathering himself together to begin class, as there were a few minutes remaining before the clock would strike 9. You looked upon him as he fiddled with papers. How did you get here? At this university? This major? This class? This specific section? And THIS professor? It didn’t matter, you were here. And there he was.

The way his salt and pepper stubble ruggedly graced his face, his very worn long sleeve t shirt that he must’ve been wearing since before you were out of middle school even, his messy hair undergoing the effects of aging, gently receding in a way that was beginning to leave a patch a the top but something about the way he rocked it pulled you to him a little bit more. He was just an older man, but damn there was something about him. It wasn’t just his looks that captivated you. It was the cadence with which he spoke, the way he could fill up the most casual, unprofessional sentence with an air of eloquence. The way he could make anything make sense. His mind was vast, woven with intricacies of which you felt you could probably never comprehend. And dammit was he funny, and so clever.

Class has started and you sat there, watching intently as he paced around the front of the room, talking about who knows what, God knows you weren’t listening, going on beautifully worded tangents every now and again. He mentioned something about a quiz but all you could think about was how he was in bed. Was he a hair grabber? What day was this quiz? He’s gotta be packing right? It’s on chapter 4? You wanted to put your hands on each side of his face, feeling his graying stubble and pull him in for a kiss, letting each other’s tongues tango and wander to wherever they ended up.

He was talking about something being wrong with the textbook, cursing the idiot writer and the dipshit who edited it and whatever numbskull allowed it to be published, but the articulation of his perfectly chosen words only made you think about what all he could do with his tongue, especially if he was between your thighs. Was he good? He had to be. You just sensed it. He would spread your thighs, look up at you with lust before going down on you, he would know just how to move his tongue, you knew it. And maybe he would start to tease you. He would stop and then begin rubbing your clit only to slide 2 fingers down and into you when you least expected. He would start pumping slowly, starting to curl his fingers up inside you, and holy fuck, when you thought it couldn’t get any better he brought his head down and started using his tongue again while inside you, Jesus Christ alfuckingmighty, and then he would- You felt the room start to blur out as if it were just you and him in an empty auditorium, your cheeks were growing warm and your stomach in a knot. Lord, you felt you needed him so badly. Never had a professor or person in general made you feel this way. It was carnal. Snap out of it. You were going too far again. If you thought anything else you might just have get up and uh.. take a… “bathroom break”… You would never really do that, but he had you so strung up you needed a release so badly. There were only 10 minutes left of class and you tried to ease your mind and maybe attempt to learn something. 10 long minutes of fighting off inappropriate thoughts and watching each minute in agony go by on the clock. But in time, it was over. You quickly grabbed all your belongings and shoved them in your bag with haste, you just wanted to get out of there because partly you felt bad about how far you let your mind wander. You made your way down the short length of auditorium stairs, getting closer to him with each step. He stood near the door, waving a slight goodbye or have a good day to the occasional student who prompted it. You kept your head down, you dreaded passing him, you felt like your thoughts were so loud that he had to have heard them. Like he knew every single thing you wanted him to do to you. Closer and closer you got, mere seconds feeling like hours the closer you got to his presence, you were almost wincing. So close to the door, you would make it. He was right there, you were coming up to him, just nearly about to pass him and get out of there. Until. You sensed a disturbance in your personal bubble. Dear god. He stopped you,

“Hey, Y/N?” He said.

Stunned, frozen in time almost. Are you fucking kidding? Out of all days. You didn’t know what to do, mind racing, you felt your cheeks growing increasingly warm and knew that by the time you turned to face him you would be brighter than the reddest tomato ever grown. You were feeling so warm that surely, your cheeks must be akin to a 3rd degree sunburn, they were so hot they had to have been blistering too, right? Most of the students had filed around you out of the class as the interaction ensued. It was just you two now.

“Uh.. yes..” you managed to spit out.

He stood with a concerned stature, one hand on his hip,

“Are you okay today? You seemed a little off in class today. I just noticed you seemed a little out of it and I thought I would check in.”

Jesus Christ. So he noticed you? He looked at you? He thought about… you?

“Oh! Uh. Yeah…” you trailed off, “… uh. Yeah! Yeah I’m doing okay. Just been a little distracted today is all. I just uh. Adhd. Forgot my medicine today. That’s it! Ha!”

Fucking facepalm. It wasn’t a lie about the ADHD, but you had taken your medicine, and that had in fact probably helped you focus so intently on thinking lewd thoughts about the tall man before you. But god, did you have to overshare like that? Even if it was a only slight stretch of the truth.

“Oh, okay, it happens, Y'know. Glad you’re good! I’ll see you on Wednesday,” he said with a reassuring smile.

“Yep! See you Wednesday!” You stumbled out the door and sped walked without any hesitation to your car. Your mind was blank the whole time until you opened the door and sat down behind the wheel.

God. He was sexy. The way his voice rolled out of his mouth was smooth like butter and it had your knees weak as you thought back on the words he had said to you. You drove home and immediately fell onto the bed and took a nice nap.

As the evening rolled around you started feeling increasingly bored, lonely, and antsy. This was the great combination of feelings that lead you right down the path of deciding to, on a Monday night, hit the bars. For once, you thought, you didn’t exactly want to get totally wasted, but just sit with a beer and be somewhere other than stuck in your room mulling over the woes of life. You’d rather be stuck in a bar, a place with atmosphere and distractions and beer, mulling over life. You had been to most of the bars on the square, and almost decided on going to your favorite one where they knew you, which seems like the best and obvious choice, but something told you otherwise. There was one bar, which you realized you had never been in. It was a sports bar, so this made sense. But tonight you thought, why not? Something new for a dull night? Who knows, maybe you’d meet somebody. Something pulled you to it. It was relatively empty, a few guys were watching the game, but otherwise empty. You sat down at the bar, showed your ID and what not and ordered a Coors Banquet. You sat for a while, almost forcing yourself to try and care about the game on tv. It was the Bengals and some other team who you didn’t really know or care about. You didn’t care about the Bengals either but you knew who they were.

Time passed and you stared, distracted, into your beverage, zoning out the world around you… until… the familiar feeling of someone sitting down right next to you broke your focus on the beer bottle.

“Banquet girl, huh?”

No way. It was him.

“Holy shit,” you said instinctually, “Professor…Parker…” you trailed off in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah,” you continued, “I am a coors banquet girl for sure. Used to be miller lite until I discovered ol banquet. Coors lite on the other hand… that’s just straight piss water”

Embarrassed about saying piss water to your professor, who was sitting next you you at a bar nonetheless, you tried not to bury your face deeply into your hands and scream a guttural scream.

“Piss water huh…?” he giggled, “I always kinda liked coors lite.” He smiled.

There was a brief, stagnant moment of silence, who knows how long it lasted but it was enough for him to decide to clear his throat and break it,

“So… I saw you sitting all alone, I just thought I’d come over here and say hi, hopefully an old guy like me won’t bother you too much, I can sit somewhere else though if you’d like. You just looked a little lonely staring at your beer like that.”

“Oh. Yeah. No, that's fine yeah, keep sitting here.”

This was mind blowing to say the least, it didn’t feel real. He was so close to you. He was so close you could reach out and put your arms around him, embracing his body heat. You tried not to dwell in order to hold a normal conversation, but he was so close you could smell the hint of Old Spice lingering on him. And with just that whiff you caught, it drove you mad. Of course he would wear Old Spice.

“So… I guess… What’re you up to being here tonight?” You asked, unable to think of anything to say.

“I just came here to watch the game. I’m not really all that interested but, Yknow, I guess I just wanted to get out. Really I should be asking you what YOU’RE up to, hitting the bars on a Monday night, miss ma’am.”

Miss ma’am??? What were you? A child or perhaps a naughty cat being scolded? That’s what that sounded like. But maybe you kind of liked it… especially coming from him.

You took a moment to breathe in, “Well, if you must know, miss ma’am here enjoys the fact that there are no covers at the bars on Monday nights,” you paused, “And I just like to sit and think with a beer I guess, and I don’t always want to do it alone in my room. Gets kinda sad after a while y’know”

“Oh, I know,” he responded.

There was another moment of silence filling up the space between you, but it felt more natural this time.

“So, The Cure?” He pointed at your shirt, “I love The Cure!”

“They’re my favorite band!” You say excitedly.

He looks at you with a jokingly cocky expression, “Yknow, I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but after college I made a movie and guess who loved it? Robert Smith!”

“Holy shit???” You blurt out, “Robert Smith?? And?- hold on you- you made a goddamn movie?? Dude!”

As if he couldn’t get any hotter. He made a movie. That your own hero Robert Smith was allegedly into. He could’ve been lying for all you know, but you trusted every word he said. After a bit of beer consumption you were starting to feel more comfortable and natural talking to him, but in the back of your mind you still couldn’t quiet down the thoughts of everything you wanted to do with him.

“Ah it’s nothin,” he said

“Nothin? No!! You have to show me!”

“Oh don’t know about that… it’s a little inappropriate…”

Inappropriate? Trey Parker? God this pulled you in. You couldn’t believe he made a movie, and an allegedly inappropriate one? You had to see this. Now felt like the time, after a beer and a half you were starting to feel more bold. It was now or never. Before you thought about it to hard, the words were already leaving your lips,

“It may be bold and completely out of line, though I have drank this beverage a bit fast so I’m feeling willing to say more than I should, however, I feel inclined to ask… if you might want to come to my apartment and maybe… you could show me your movie…”

He looked stunned. But you could tell by the look behind his eyes. He had been around long enough to know. And thankfully, to your completely dismay, he replied with a smile,

“Sure…”

You stepped into his car, and the two of you drove back in mostly silence other than your telling directions back to your apartment. It didn’t feel real. You sat in his passenger seat, looking out the window, feeling warmth in your cheeks, wondering if maybe, since you had successfully lured him to your apartment, he might let you call him by his first name.

“Hey…” you decided to go for the question, nervous on how it would go over.

“Hm?” He said softly, looking over at you slightly but maintaining his focus on the road.

“How mad would you be if I um, if I referred you Trey tonight…? Yknow since…” you trailed off, “since y'know…”

“I don’t think I would be mad at all, Y/N.” He said we a reassuring smile.

You gave a quick tour of the place and then offered up the couch, you sat on one end, politely urging him to sit himself down with you. He placed himself on the other end of the couch at an almost awkward, but definitely safe distance.

“You could sit a little closer y’know.“ you said

“I suppose I could”

He moves a little closer but, still a safe difference. If there was ever a time to use your feminine wiles, you thought, it was now. You knew what you wanted but could barely believe you were in this position anyways.

“I don’t bite or nothin. I mean, I usually don’t anyways”

He lightly giggled, but you could sense the gears turning in his head, and you wondered if he had processed your attempt at flirting. He scooted over closer to you, legs almost touching.

The movie had begun playing, and you teased him about his outfit in the film, and the fact that it was called Orgazmo. But after a little while, something came over you, you just couldn’t hold it anymore. Before you knew it you felt your hand moving towards his thigh. Isn’t this usually a man’s move? You really didn’t care. It’s what you wanted and it felt right. In an instant you felt your palm press against the fabric. You looked up to him for reassurance and he gave you a look that let you know it was okay. Within seconds you felt your body rush with warmth as he leaned swiftly in, placing his hand on the side of your face, pulling you in a locking lips.

Holy fuck? Its happening? Play it cool.

His scruff scratches lightly against your skin. Fuck, he could give you rug burn if he wanted to, you’d let him. Your bodies moved together with the passion of the kiss, feeling around each other as his tongue danced against yours in your mouth. You felt a pressure on your chest as he reached in to grab your boobs, releasing a breathy sigh on impact into your mouth. You found your hand on his thigh again, grasping into it briefly, then running your hand up slowly until you reached his inner thigh. You stopped here for a moment before moving to the big bulge in his pants, rubbing and stroking it through the fabric and feeling it get even harder as you do so.

“Fuck,” he lets out a groan.

He hastily begins fiddling with his pants button pulling them down and off to expose his boxers. He grabs you and pulls you up on his lap, your legs straddled around him, and begins grinding against you, moving your hips against his lap and confined length which ached to be inside you.

You couldn’t take it anymore, you found yourself peeling your shorts off with vigor in order to feel even closer to him and the raging hard on rubbing against you. He sat you back down and pulled you in even harder, breathing heavily with each of his movements against you.

“Please, Trey,” you begged, “I need you to put it in”

“Not yet,” he smiled.

He lifted you up as he stood, and carried you off to your bedroom, laying you down on the bed hurriedly, but with care. With both of you on the bed he slid off your shirt, throwing it to the floor; then crawling up to you for a kiss, he places his hands firmly on your boobs. He moves down, grabbing one gently and putting it in his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as he looks up at you with needy blue eyes. He begins to trail down, leaving a line of tender yet sloppy kisses down your torso as he approaches your underwear. It almost made you shiver, the closer he got.

“Is this okay? You’re okay with doing this?” He asked, looking up at you.

You nodded with a subtle bite of the lip, as you felt you couldn’t handle another second without him inside you.

“Are you sure?” He asked again.

“Yes. Please. I need you right now,” you wined in response.

He got off the bed and stood up, tearing off his shirt with haste and sliding off his boxers, allowing his hard length to fling out, giving it a few pumps as he approached the bed again. Back on the bed, he spreads your legs in preparation to take him. He leans in, taking his cock and rubbing the tip against your clit, teasing you, forcing you to wait even longer.

“You’re so wet for me, huh?” he said slyly and proudly as he continued to tease you.

“Please put it in,” you begged.

He grinned and you felt him enter, pushing himself in slowly, all the way, letting out a groan as he did so, and then waiting just a moment, fully inside you, before he began thrusting. He started slowly, getting you used to the length, quickly picking up the pace. You ran your hands down his chest, feeling all of his hair and the burgeoning sweat within it. He was pumping in and out of you rhythmically, absolutely wracking your brain, and with his thrusting came the occasional groan, or “ah” or “fuck.” He put his hand behind your head and leaned in to kiss you sloppily, letting lust take the two of you over.

All of a sudden he pulled out, just barely out of you, his tip almost touching your entrance. He watched the confusion on your face as he hadn’t yet gone back in, knowing how badly you wanted him back, he began to tease you.

“How badly do you want it?”

“So badly, please”

“Not yet,” he said, “I want to hear you beg.”

“Fuck. Please fuck me,” you pleaded.

He grinned and pushed back inside you with delicate force, putting his hands on side of your waist and pulling you into each thrust. He leaned in for a kiss and you took the opportunity to pull him in to you even closer, chests touching, feeling his warmth. He nestled his head in your neck, sucking lightly, enough to titillate but not leave a mark. You held tightly onto his back, trying to keep yourself from digging into it and scratching him, but maybe he would like that, you thought. As he thrusted, you bucked your hips against him, fucking him back. He let out a moan into your ear, unable to hold it in any longer. You could sense that rush flooding in, trying to overtake you, you tried to push back in order to keep yourself going longer but it was growing increasingly obvious that the time was nearing. You could feel within his recent movements that he was in a similar boat. He leaned in for one more kiss, letting out a moan, “Uugh, fuck,” into your mouth as he did so. With this you found yourself unable to hold it in.

“Trey, I’m gonna cum,” you moan, pulling him in as hard and close as you possibly could, bucking your hips hard, riding out the high as you felt your body nearly shaking against his.

He continued pumping, almost reaching that same limit himself, with your own release pushing him over the edge. He pulled out quickly with an “ah” pumping along his cock as he aimed it towards your tits. He kept pumping, letting out sounds of ecstasy and relief, spurting his cum all over your chest.

“Shit,” he exhaled, while flopping over and laying next to you. You noticed some of his cum had landed on his stomach, sitting lightly on his happy trail.

“Hey, you got a lil sumthin,” you said with a point and a smile.

“Oh…” he looked down at himself and then looked at you, remembering how much he had doused you, “Oh! I’ll get a towel!”

You told him where to find one and he soon returned wielding a washcloth, he gently cleaned you up before tossing the towel off the side of the bed, then laying back down beside you.

“So uh… does this warrant me getting some extra credit?” You joked.

He laughed lightly and responded, “Oh, after that? You just passed the class with flying colors.”

#trey parker #trey parker x reader

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