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softagenda · 5 months

Text

antidote (kuras)

kuras x reader(f)

aphrodisiac au / short fic

series: sweet poison (scenario-based collection of character imagines)

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

You’re an idiot for drinking that. An absolute idiot.

You’re spilled across the floor, head swimming, burning from the inside as though you’d swallowed a star. The velvet rug brushed soft and cloying against your prickling skin as you squirmed, your heart pounding in your ears and beating an insistent rhythm in your groin.

Cooing at you from the table, her cat’s eyes curled in satisfaction, Morgana asked, “Something the matter? You look positively feverish.” She twirled a curly black lock around her finger.

Bitch.

Paintings of naked people - bathing in springs, dancing around a fire, having an orgy in front of a temple - swirled into one colorful blob as you turned on your side, fisting the rug. You attempted to pull yourself to where you remembered the door but stalled a couple inches in, weak as a newborn kitten and stifling a moan as your body rubbed on the carpet.

“Now, now, where’s the fire? Stay a while.” She rose from her chair and stood over you, her arms crossing under her full chest. “You’re clearly hot under the collar. The thought of you wandering the streets like this concerns me deeply.”

You glared up at her, using every ounce of willpower not to writhe on the floor like a worm on a hook. Your hand felt clumsily around your hip for the dagger.

“I’ll take that,” she chirped, snatching the weapon from your belt and tossing it behind her. “Can’t have you nicking that lovely skin.” Her heel braced on the other side of you, straddling your back. Her hands tugged the shirt from your waist before dragging warm palms up your back, her nails scratching on the return journey.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan rocketing through your chest, as every nerve in your body vibrated with electric pleasure. Your hips pressed hard into the floor, growing ever desperate for friction even as you struggled to focus.

Morgana sunk her hand into your nape, drawing your hair back from your face. When she leaned down to brush her painted lips against your ear, goosebumps erupted down your neck. “We’ll start with the bandages, shall we?”

____________ prologue end ______________

With her left hand holding your head to the ground, Morgana traced her right across your shoulder, scratching gently at the fabric here and there as though offering scritches along a cat’s back.

You bit the inside of your cheek until the taste of blood slipped over your tongue.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the stairs, accompanied by the faint murmur of voices, until the conversation slipped amongst the folds of the curtains. ‘-- with a client right now, but she will address the issue as soon as she is available. So, please - “

A knock sounded at the door.

Morgana froze. Her grip tightened on your neck, nails pricking your skin.

A woman’s voice pleaded, her voice hushed but increasingly frantic, “Please, sir, the mistress must not be disturbed -”

“Pardon my intrusion,” said the man, opening the door with only a moment’s pause, clearly not giving a single fuck about his clear intrusion.

You squinted through your hair, recognized the spotless white coat and curling waterfall of hair trailing over his chest, before letting your face fall to the floor once more, a whine of humiliation stifled against the luxurious threads.

Of all people to walk in like this. What must he think of you, trapped under a pleasure house mistress?

“Doctor, while I am forever grateful for your services, I must say this is rather… inappropriate,” Morgana purred, just enough of an edge to her voice to bare her claws.

Kuras folded one hand on his chest and gave a short bow, his glowing eyes holding hers, his smile sweet. “I do apologize, but I fear the matter is quite urgent. When your employee visited my clinic this afternoon, they appear to have grabbed another patient’s prescription.”

She froze. “Oh?”

“Yes. This patient suffered from infection of the stomach, brought on by parasitic worms crushed into his food. I had a vial of evulsion agent waiting for him.” His gaze swept the room perfunctorily, passing over the massive bed piled with silks, the open chest of brightly colored sex toys, and the lurid paintings on the wall without batting an eye, before settling on the table, where the bottle of aphrodisiac had tipped on its side..

Kuras strode into the room, skirting around your tangled form, his brow furrowing slightly. “Ah.”

Morgana shifted uneasily, inadvertently sending a shiver down your back. “What?” She paused. “Was that not Fever Dream?”

With a hum in the back of his throat, the doctor stepped back and stared down into your face, his expression purely clinical. “Do you know how much she consumed?”

“... at least half.”

“Ah.”

“What’s going to happen?” All lustre and verve had dropped like a stone from her voice. Her hands still pinned you in place, but her palms curled away like she was touching something contagious or slimy. “What are the side effects? She seemed fine - no different from the usual effects of the drug.”

“Well, I suppose the initial symptoms present in similar ways. Fever, confusion, muscle weakness, temporary loss of motor function.” Kuras paused then added, “Treatment of parasitic infestation of the stomach naturally involves expulsion of the organisms.”

The body hovering on your back vanished in a heartbeat.

“She’s about to start vomiting?” Morgana snapped her fingers at the woman lingering in the doorway. “Imelda. Carry her to the back entrance, now.”

Kuras interrupted with a wave of his hand. “No need.”

Polished white boots stopped inches from your hand, twisting feebly in the rug. With a feeble twist, you met his gaze, teeth gritted against the fire swimming in your veins.

“Do not be afraid. I can treat what ails you,” he consoled, the essence of civility and professionalism, but for his eyes, the gold brimming with hidden amusement. His arms slipped under your shoulders and knees, lifting you up to his chest with ease. “My lovely patient.”

“Thank you for your quick handling of the situation, Doctor,” Morgana said, trailing behind as Kuras turned on his heel and strode out of the room. “Is the rest of the order contaminated, or just the one bottle?”

“The rest should be fine.”

Not soon enough, he stepped out onto the street. Cool air washed over you in a wave, exhuming the heavy incense and smoke from your lungs and nose. Your legs and outside arm swayed with every step, draped over him like a limpet. Cheek pressed to his chest, you could smell the scent of herbs and magnolia pressed into his clothing - maybe his skin, after all this time.

Your nose pressed into the crook of his neck before you could stop yourself. Your mouth opened, lips brushing against his skin, wrestling desperately with the temptation to lick, to taste.

“Kuras,” you said, breathless, voice cracking.

He watched you from above, with that impartial curiosity he had always affected when working with patients, except his eyes. The intensity, unblinking and frightening, of those golden eyes reached deep down into your gut with fear and arousal.

His mouth curved at the edges. “You must be feeling the effects quite strongly now.” His head lowered until his breath drifted over your ear. “Feverish. Elevated pulse. Heightened arousal,” he murmured, velvet smooth.

A full-body shudder wracked through you.

Kuras smiled. “Once we return to the clinic, I can administer the antidote.” At your confused look, he added, “the privacy of my patients is of the utmost importance. My tendency has never trended toward exhibitionism.”

_______________________________

a/n: thanks for reading!

#kuras x reader #kuras x mc #touchstarved fic #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved imagines #touchstarved kuras #otome fanfic

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nonobadcat · 1 year

Note

Afo on valentine with pregnant reader maybe if your ok with requests 🥺

Whoot! Finally had time to sit down and work on this! ❤️

I think the answer of how AFO would be with a pregnant lover depends on which country's Valentines Day we're talking about. In western style countries I'm sure there would be wining and dining but, since BNHA is set in Japan, I decided to go with a Japanese style holiday.

In Japan, women are expected to be the predominate provided of the holiday. This turns around on White Day in March when the men return the favor with gifts. There are several types of chocolate for Valentine's day: Giri (obligation), Honmei (true love: sounds suspiciously like homemade), Tomo (friends), Jibun (I bought for myself), and Fami (family). There are also reports of Gyaku (man to woman gifted) chocolate, but I get the impression most guys just wait for White Day.

All For One x Pregnant Reader Valentine's Day

Puffy coat lapels clutched tight to your neck, you dodged past yet another line snaking out from the tidy, pink and red mottled store fronts of the Roppongi Hills shopping center. Banners and LED adverts flashed limited edition everything from gold foiled chocolate truffles to "lovey dovey" rice crackers. Even Kitty Diamond, the slick, luxury pet shop, had swapped their usual clean, white window display for a flood pastels hearts. The mournful amber eyes of the plush Persian kittens for sale looked like a glowing sunset against their coral colored collars.

Squinting against the ferocious February wind, you stuffed the straps of your canvas bag into your armpit and braced the package tight against your chest. Out past the rose garden, you trudged down the sloping sidewalks towards the south entrance of Roppongi Station. As you passed L'Atelier du Pain, the French bakery, the odor of buttery baked goods made your bulging belly flutter. You groaned and patted your stomach.

"I told you at the first store, it's no good. I'm pretty sure that anything that smells that nice isn't on that troll doctor's 'recommended diet' list." You rolled your eyes. "Though I think his obsessing over my nutrient balance is going to give me higher blood pressure than any amount of potato chips."

When you reached the sparkling glass and rosy brass front of the luxury high rise, the doorman nearly tripped over himself to greet you. A nervously mumbled "welcome back" accompanied by averted eyes left you scowling. Clearly, someone had gotten short with the staff for "looking too long", again.

Honestly. You assumed, at first, that being visibly pregnant with his child would make the ever possessive Shigaraki feel more secure. However, even since seeing those two pink lines, your husband seemed more territorial than ever. Seeing the security guard's face almost made you want to extend your outing just to get away from the stifling apartment a little while longer. However, the throb of your swollen feet reminded you what a stupid idea that was.

Knowing that any further contact would make things worse, you strolled past the man and headed straight to the elevator. The sound of your annoyed toe tapping on the glossy, granite was your only companion. The glowing numbers crawled up floor by floor until they halted at the penthouse suite. With the tinny ding, you waddled off the lift and leaned against the creamy canvas wallpaper just beside your sumptuous, high rise flat.

Setting your purchase on polished, glittering tiles, you finished deep into your purse for your key. Your bag caught the edge the limited release vase on the hall table. You gasped. Lunging forward, your grabbed its lip before it could tumble to the floor. Heart pounding, you straightened the fresh flowers. Looking at the hasty arrangement made you purse your lips. No good. Compared to the perfectly crafted ikebana that usually sat outside the door, your efforts were a mess.

"Oh well," you sighed, turning back to the task at hand. "Not like it matters."

After all, one of his followers put a fresh arrangement in it every day.

You pressed your finger to the biometric scanner before turning the tumblers. The door slipped open on smooth hinges. As you balanced the load against your hip, a pink and white tag, decorated with a rolly polly infant, danged from your purse. Just as you leaned for the other bag, a large hand grasped your shoulder.

"I'll get that."

Without looking up, you shook your head at the owner of the smooth baritone and groped for your purchase "You're fussing again."

Shigaraki's pale fingers plucked the bag from the floor, hoisting it high over your head with a grin one tooth too wide to be kind. "You enjoy a little fussing," he teased, letting the goods swing from his pointer.

You reached out, snatching at your purchase. He sneered before raising it five centimeters beyond your finger tips. As you rocked onto the balls of your feet, straining for the handles, he leaned back, letting the bag bounce off his massive shoulder.

"Give it back!"

He chuckled, rocking it back and forth in the hanging air. "Why? It's for me isn't it?"

"For tonight! Not now!" Carefully shuffling sore breasts aside, you crossed your arms and grumbled. "Patience is not your virtue, is it?"

A massive palm engulfed your head, patting it twice before rubbing small circles at the edge of your scalp. "And following instructions is not yours." He nodded to the window at the end of the hall. A gust of wind rattled the pane. "I distinctly recall The Doctor telling you not to strain yourself this late in the pregnancy."

You pried his hand off your head and huffed. "A few block walk is hardly straining myself."

"In the cold and up hill?"

"It's 10C and I'm wearing a down jacket."

Red eyes narrowed. "With the zipper open."

You rolled your eyes. "...and who's fault is it that I've gained 10kgs?"

As a thick tongue darted out to wet his lips, your husband rested his hand on the shelf of your stomach. "It looks good on you."

Embarrassed heat flushed your cheeks. "Pervert," you spat, shouldering past him.

Planting your purse on the wall hook, you peeled off your coat and dropped it along side your bag. Braced one arm against the wall, you curled your finger inside your heel before tugged off your shoes. As you stepped from the gekkan onto the main floor, thick arms shoved themselves under your knees. Wide eyes looked up into a blinding, fanged grin.

"What sweets did my darling Valentine bring me?"

You gulped. "M-malted chocolate whiskey cake."

"Whiskey?" Crimson delight danced below long white lashes as he kicked the front door shut. "Not planning to share with me then?"

You raised an eye brow. "The All For One? Sharing with others?" With a shrug, you laid your head upon his shoulder and prodded his chest. "Seems a bit out of character for you."

Warm breath fanned across your neck. "Then what were you hoping for, my dear?" the devil whispered in your ear.

You faked a pout, but it was tainted by the coy grin tugging at your cheeks. Sultry promise coiling into every word, you loosened the next button from his open oxford. Chiseled pecs drifted into view as your stroked one finger down his sternum. His skin burned like hellfire.

"Have your cake and eat it too?"

Your heart fluttered as a low chuckle reverberated in his chest. You yelped at naughty nip at your ear lobe as his hands slide slowly up your thighs. Long fingers found the hem of your pants, tugging at the button.

"Oh," he groaned, nuzzling your scalp with his tall nose. "I think I can manage that."

Fun fact: That cake did exist Valentine's day 2023: Bricolage Bread & Co - ¥5,200

#all for one bnha #all for one x reader #shaigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #all for one x you #afo x reader #bnha valentines #bnha x reader #lov x reader #afo bnha #mha x reader #valentines day x reader

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shadowqueen402 · 2 months

Note

Hey There! Remember your BWW Outfits things for the chapters? Can you do that but with my OC?

Ooh! I sure can! Here are the outfits for Kaylo!

Kaylo Bruno's Outfits

Chapter 1

A white shirt with short, puffed sleeves, a Peter Pan collar, a purple ribbon, and purple lining underneath a purple plaid overall dress with a white lace trim, white thigh-high socks, and black Mary Janes. She also wears her hair in twin braids with matching purple ribbons and carries a basket.

Chapter 2

A purple, one piece swimsuit with a one-shoulder ruffle, a thin spaghetti strap, and white two-tiered skirt. She also wears a white sun hat, and pink sandals.

Chapter 3

A short-sleeved white and green seifuku with a light pink scarf, a green pleated skirt, black knee-length socks, and brown loafers. She also has a green bow adorning her hair.

Chapter 4

A light pink hoodie with white strings over a white shirt with a lavender collar, a sky blue skirt, and magenta and white sneakers with white shoelaces.

Chapter 5

A green cap, a grey short-sleeved shirt with pockets on the chest, a brown belt with a gold buckle, green shorts, green knee length socks, and brown hiking shoes.

Chapter 6

A fuschia blazer with gold buttons connected with chains. Underneath is a white high-collared blouse that is adorned with a magenta brooch. She also wears a black and white plaid pleated skirt, black knee-length socks with fuschia and white argyle patterning, and light pink kitten heels.

Chapter 7

A pink over-the-shoulder dress with sleeves that reach the elbow, a rose pink bodice, and rose pink flats. She wears her hair in a low ponytail with a rose pink ribbon.

Chapter 8

A dark purple coat with white fur trimming on the hood and cuffs of the sleeves, rose pink gloves, black pants, and dark purple boots with white fur trimming.

Chapter 9

A long-sleeved black dress with white cuffs and red lapels over a white high-collared shirt that has three black buttons. She also wears a black bow tie, a black top hat with a red sash, white gloves, black pants with red lining, and black flats. She also carries a deck of cards.

Chapter 10

A purple short-sleeved dress with a dark purple collar and rim. Underneath is a rose pink undershirt. She also wears a white apron with three paint splatters on it and dark purple flats.

Chapter 11

A nurse's outfit which consists of a short-sleeved lilac dress, a matching nurse's hat, and lilac sandals. She also has a stethoscope around her neck.

Chapter 12

A white high-collared shirt, a thin, light pink ribbon, a light pink overall skirt, a magenta ribbon around the waist and white frills, light pink detached sleeves, magenta stockings, and black Mary Janes. Her hair is straightened and held up in pigtails with black ribbons.

Hope you like these!

#balan wonderworld #ocs

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fallingstarsau · 9 months

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The Allegiances of the Alliance: The Thundercrash Guild

The Thundercrash Guild:

Luminary: Star Icefall- A massive, fluffy Grey-Blue point molly that has a notable scar across her shoulder and blue eyes. She/Her.

The Star-Speaker: Spottedleaf- A small, fluffy dappled tortoiseshell molly decorated in many herbs and with amber eyes. She/They.

The Herbalist: Featherwhisker- A very old, massive fluffy white cat with long curly fur and pale yellow eyes. They/them.

The Council:

The Heir: Lionheart- A massive short-furred yellow charlie with a fluffy mane, tufted tail, and amber eyes. He/They.

The Crafting Head: Cricketleap: A mainly white calico tom with short curly fur and dark amber eyes. He/him.

The Hunting Head: Snowstorm- A light grey point charlie, with pale yellow and blue eyes. Xe/xem

The Head Cook: Dappletail- A mainly black calico molly with pale blue eyes. She/They..

The Keeper: Speckletail- A tabby dilute calico molly, with sharp amber eyes. She/her.

Warriors:

Featherdance- A pure white, blue eyed, deaf molly with short curly fur. He/They.

Tigerclaw- A massive, dark brown-red tabby tom with piercing dark red amber eyes. He/him

Darkstripe- A short, tortoiseshell tabby tom with yellow eyes. He/him.

Mousesnap- A small, short furred molly with pale yellow eyes. She/Her.

Goldenflower- A large, fluffy golden molly with green eyes. She/Her.

Aspentail- A sleek, large eared, silver tabby with a very long tail and pale blue eyes. They/He.

Crafters:

Elkhowl- A stocky, brown tabby tom with a cropped tail and amber eyes. He/him.

Fuzzybranch- A very spiky black charlie with pale yellow-green eyes. He/She/They.

Chestnutclaw- A short dark red molly with a bobbed tail and one blue eye. She/He.

Herb-Keepers:

Rosetail: A pale dilute rose tortoiseshell molly with a large, bushy tail and pale amber eyes. She/they.

Thrushwing: A pale brown speckled tom with fluffy fur, a long tail, and pale green eyes. He/him.

Cooks:

Falconflight- A tall pale brown tabby tom with pale green eyes. He/him.

Patchtooth- An old, grizzled black and white molly with cracked teeth and amber eyes. She/her.

Monarchs:

Willowsong- A fluffy grey tabby molly with blue-green eyes, and tufted ears. She/Her

Brindleface- A large fluffy grey spotted molly with distinctive markings and dark green eyes. They/She/Xe

Frostfang- A small, thick-furred white tom with blue eyes, who is partially deaf. He/They.

Apprentices:

Sandpaw- A pale yellow and rose torbie molly with olive green eyes. She/Her.

Cherrypaw- A mute, heavily scarred dark red tabby with dark leaf green eyes. She/They.

Dustpaw- A dark brown charlie with amber eyes and an extra toe on each paw. They/Them.

Ravenpaw- A pure black tom with a white spot on his chest, and purple-yellow eyes. He/him.

Fogpaw- A fluffy striped grey tom with amber eyes, and a short tail. He/him.

Rustpaw- A small fluffy red charlie, with green eyes and a long fluffy tail. They/them.

Wrenpaw- A large fluffy calico molly with blue-green eyes and a long fluffy tail.

Kittens:

Brightkit- A ginger and white kitten.

Swiftkit- A black and white kitten.

Elders:

Adderfang- A patchy furred red tabby tom, with yellow eyes and long fangs. He/him.

Breezeflight- A pure white, green eyed charlie with long fur. They/them.

Shrewear- A small, grumpy, mottled grey and brown tom with distinctly small ears. He/Him

Mumblerose- An ancient molly with a patchy dull red coat, cracked teeth, and shredded ears. She/Her. The oldest cat in the Thundercrash guild.

————

shoutout to @bonefall for their allegiances! It’s a real live saver.

#fallingstarsau #the thunderstruck #the alliance #warrior allegiances #allegiances #ahh this took so long.#Anyways!#xenomog #xenomoggy

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akiyamanemu · 2 years

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🍰.Jake x You on a date after he gets out of detention.

It had been quite a while since you and Jake had seen each other apart from the visitors, so obviously you were freaking out with anxiety. He had told you to meet him in the park by the river for a surprise, so there you were on your way to the park, in your best clothes, looking around quickly you spotted the black haired boy sitting on a picnic blanket, he smiled sweetly waving, as you get closer you can hardly hold back the tears of longing.

-Hey, you know that if you cry I'll cry with you. Jake laughed getting up, he wrapped you in a warm and affectionate hug, you wrapped your hands around his waist squeezing him, he was definitely stronger and maybe even a little taller. His eyes quickly turned to the boy's lips.

-Baby, that must have hurt a lot... your fingers touched the soft skin of the boy's lips, now a reddish scar cut them diagonally, you had already seen it, but it's not that close.

-It's nothing I didn't deserve… he sighed caressing your face. He was really handsome.

Everything that had happened was still confusing to you, you had known Jake for a long time, before the Big Deal and Gun and Goo and all the things that had happened, you knew how he had to change his personality and betray his own sense of justice, and seeing him after all these things you noticed he seemed lighter, even if not entirely.

The afternoon went perfectly, Jake had prepared a picnic for you, all the sweets you loved the most were there. It was almost night when the boy slung his coat over his shoulders.

-You know, it seems that your beauty has only increased all this time. He smiled, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

-I was thinking the same about you, you are more and more passionate. You smiled back placing your hand over Jake's.

Jake's warm palm made your heart calm, the scent of the perfume he wore, the texture of his soft skin against your cheek, all of this was mind-boggling to you. The boy leaned in close to your face, his lips formed a corner smile before he pressed them against yours in a sweet and needy kiss, now both of Jake's hands held your face while your arms were around his neck. The warm sun that set in front of the two made everything even more romantic, the lips that touched in an affectionate and needy way, the hearts that beat in the same rhythm, the gasps that escaped from time to time.

The kiss came to an end when the shortness of breath settled down, but neither one of them would mind holding the kiss until their lungs ached. The looks at each other showed everything, the intertwined fingers, the silly smiles that sprouted all the time even though you tried to hide. Time ran differently for you between kisses, conversations about the time you had spent away from each other and more kisses the two of you almost didn't realize the time, it was almost midnight, so you decided to walk to your house, after putting together all the things from the picnic and make sure they hadn't left litter behind, the two set off hand in hand as they walked while playing, or stopped to play with a stray kitten.

A street before your house there was a flower bed with some roses, so without you noticing Jake took a rose there taking its thorns, when you realized the boy was kneeling in front of you holding the rose for you.

-I really can't let my love come home without a flower. He smiled, blinking one eye.

-Look at my boy, the most romantic in the world. You said taking the rose and taking it to your heart. It was really sweet when Jake did something like that, he was always a box of surprises.

So there you were at the door of your house, it was late, but Jake couldn't leave, because you didn't let go, it was the twenty-seventh kiss goodbye that you gave, but the longing didn't allow you to let him go, the same for him, even if he knew you needed to go he couldn't.

-What do you think about sleeping here today? You asked with a flushed face, looking down at your feet.

-I would really love it if you let me spend this night with you. He smiled, laying his hand on your hair. So after a few calls the two of you walked into your house, the lights were off, Jake took a deep breath, the boy's hands were on your shoulders.

-I think there must be some of your things here, I just can't guarantee it will fit. You laughed taking him to your room.

After you each took a hot shower and changed into comfortable clothes, you lay down, your face was against Jake's chest, the boy's arms enfolded you in a warm hug, while you chatted about how strong he had become, or about how something in you had changed, taking the time to learn about each other again.

#lookism #lookism headcanons #jake kim #jake lookism #jake x you #lookism jake #jakekim #jake kim x reader #kim gimyung lookism #kim gimyung #lookism x reader #x reader

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animehouse-moe · 11 months

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Pride Month Manga Recommendations Week 2: Yuri / Girls Love

So week number two has rolled around, which means a new focus/set for the recommendations, and a new charity! This week's theme/genre is Yuri/Girls Love, which can get a bit of a bad rap sometimes. It's absolutely true that a lot of same sex romance manga can suffer from sexualization of gender and sexual identities, but I really hope that these recommendations can be something people find interest in.

Also, a quick aside so you don't have to go all the way to the end of the post, this week's charity is GLAAD, an organization that focuses on advocacy and fair treatment of LGBTQ+ in media.

Run Away With Me Girl by Battan is a short but bittersweet story about the regrets of a pair of girls as they move forward in their adult lives. Maki drifts aimlessly through life, unable to forget the hurricane that was Midori who swept her off her feet in high school, only to leave her behind to become an "adult", while Midori finds herself trapped in an engagement to someone who who she doesn't love, burdened with the fear of becoming a mother.

The two have a chance meeting one night, years after they have last seen each other, and the facades that cover each began to crack and break apart as they spend more and more time together, rediscovering themselves, struggling with trauma and fears and hesitations, and fighting to find a way for their love to come true. It's a very beautiful story, though not without it's dark moments with things like scarily real manipulative and abusive significant others. It refuses to sugarcoat its story, but still finds its way to a rose colored end.

Bloom Into You

Our main character (right) Yuu has wanted a lovey dovey relationship like the manga she reads for as long as she can remember, but no matter where that confession comes from, it can't move her heart. She continues to turn down confessions until it's the student council president (left) Nanami that comes to her with her own confession.

It's not a series that knows exactly what it wants to do and where to go, but it matches the cadence of high school life in that stumbling. Finding the right words and approach, struggling with what love is, accepting yourself as you are, and living up to expectations. It's a tangled mess of many emotions that all find their core in love and desire, as it explores various characters and approaches to romance.

My Cute Little Kitten/Milk Morinaga

Now bear with me here, I know we're not getting the next volume until January 2024, so I want to just sort of broadly recommend Milk Morinaga's works in English. Hana and Hina After School just recently go its (print on demand) reprint, but they also have stuff like Syrup (a series of Yuri anthologies), and a good few short Yuri series that you can get digitally (most of them are oop since they're so old).

But anyways, My Cute Little Kitten. As the name implies it's cute, of course, but it's also steamy. Rena and Yuna are roommates that date all the way back to their college era, with Rena harboring a crush that slips out into words one drunken night thanks to Yuna's words spurred on by the kitten she picked up off the street. The pair end up slipping into a relationship that has them moving apartments and exploring each other while peeling back layers of themselves. It's a very comfortable story, but doesn't shy away from reminding readers that these are adults. I really enjoy that it keeps that bit of sexuality to it, but doesn't force it to coat the relationship in its entirety. There's still plenty about the characters and their anxiety that stems from their new lives.

Otherside Picnic

Ever wanted to see girls explore another world of mystery, horror, and terror while also exploring each other? Look no further than Otherside Picnic! This series is a bit different as the romance goes hand in hand with the adventure, rather than the romantic aspect spurring other pieces on. If you're not a fan of horror, you probably won't enjoy this story, but if you do, I can't recommend it enough.

Sorawo is a loner that discovered the Otherside as a way to escape from her own world, but ends up subject to the dangers of it and on the brink of dying in a puddle of water. Fate has other plans for her though, as the blonde (and Canadian) Toriko stumbles upon "Ophelia" in her puddle and saves her, setting the story in motion. The pair continue to explore the Otherside over the span of months and even years, initially for the sake of searching for Toriko's teacher Satsuki, but as their relationship deepens and they come to further understand each other, the purpose becomes more muddy.

I really just want to drive home how good this story is. I really really love it for how the characters are presented, and how the use of horror and fear is used to show how deep and strong the relationship between Toriko and Sorawo grows to be. Though do be warned, it's a bit of a slow burn, but I absolutely think it's worth it thanks to how great and unique the characters are.

Futari Escape

Now I'll level with you, this isn't a yuri romance series, there's not even many displays of affection. But still, I think it's a yuri series that countless people out there would enjoy.

It's the story of Senpai, a short girl who loves to mooch off of her mangaka roommate/girlfriend, Kouhai, and their journey(s) through life as they endeavor to enjoy the smaller things. Going on random trips, reminiscing on days gone, or getting themselves into a spot of trouble that they conveniently forget about. It's incredibly endearing and comically passionate about dodging work and responsibility. Because of that though, it's the perfect manga to take a break from life with. To find just that little bit of comedy, or a random idea you wouldn't have thought of, or to let your mind wander aimlessly as you flip the pages. It's a wonderful rest stop in the relentless onslaught that is the present reality, and on that alone it's such an easy title to recommend.

And so we find ourselves at the end of another week of recommendations, and a new charity to check out! GLAAD is a charity that focuses on advocacy and cultural change for LGBTQ+ in media. They do quite a bit and even have their own media awards. Once more, I don't want to push people to donate, but I do highly recommend everyone check out their website to see what it is that they do, and how you can get involved.

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snow-stream · 2 years

Text

Houndstar

But when his drinking, and lusting and his hunger for power

Became known to more and more people

The demands to do something about this outrageous man became louder and louder

HOUNDSTAR

[Redacted] Spottedkit, Spottedpaw, Spottedclaw ৷ 30 moons ৷ Mistmend leader ৷ molly

Huge calico molly with a battle-scarred pelt, a sliced ear, and yellow eyes

Spottedstar is known as one of the most skilled fighters in colony history, earning her title of ‘the hound’ from her ferocity and sheer power on the battlefield. Her intense gaze is enough to send cats scurrying, and to see her charging on the front lines leaves even the most courageous warriors frozen in fear. She is a well-known figure throughout the territory for being nearly unbeatable in battle and for the success of her political campaign, pushing territory lines and making alliances. She preaches to all that listen to her of her plan of a so-called new era of peace and prosperity. The public was shocked to find that she had survived her failed assassination and is now back with even more authority and rigor than ever before.

She is arguably the largest cat in the colonies, easily towering over most with her size only rivaled by the northern mountain giant cats. Her thick pelt shields her from enemy claws, and with her size she easily crushes her foes in battle. Her fur isn’t all fluff and is well-muscles from years of vigorous training. Like the giants of the north her ears and paws are tufted, and although her coat is covered head to toe in past battle-scars, she spots an iconic v-shaped scar on her left ear that nearly splits it in half. Other noticeable scars consist of claw-marks on her throat and belly.

Spottedstar is a cat of little words, they aren’t needed when a single swipe of her paw could send you flying. She instead chooses to sit back and observe, waiting patiently until the time is right to strike. She’s often seen in the shadows of her den, silently observing and watching for hours at a time. But when she does speak, her voice is full of strength and authority, passion for a strong and respected colony where no cat will ever be hungry again. She is often seen as a bloodthirsty brute to outsiders, but colony members know that she will do anything to ensure the survival of her colony, no matter the cost. Although she is emotionally distant and often aloof, colony members are assured by her protection, even if they can’t help but feel like they’re being watched.

History:

Little is known about Spottedstar’s history, as she doesn’t share any of it. But what cats do know is that she was found on the border as a young kitten and taken into the clan. Raised by colony matriarch Brambleflower, she was also adopted by the leader at the time, Lakestar. Seeing potential, Spottedclaw was additionally mentored under him when she became an apprentice. As a young cat she grew up in war and witnessed her colony members suffering firsthand as many starved or were killed in battle. She promised that when she grew older that her colony members would never suffer such horror again. With her skill for battle, it was no surprise that she earned the suffix -claw, and quickly rose to popularity as a warrior who was passionate about her colony. Spottedclaw did mentor an apprentice, Antpaw, but only for a short amount of time until she was unfortunately killed in battle against the Bleakridges. She was the first to expose Lakestar of his disloyalty, and personally lead the patrol that drove him out of the territory and to his death. From then on Spottedclaw awarded herself as leader and began to push borders and make deals for territory. It wasn’t long before a coup plotted to kill her, and the colony was shocked to see her lifeless body on the border. But to everyone’s surprise, by some miracle she arrived back at camp some moons later. With coup members punished or exiled, Spottedstar got to work ‘cleaning up the damage’, challenging foes and making her colony strong. Now Mistmend stands undefeated, and there are few who want to challenge them. But Spottedstar claims that she isn’t done yet, and her warriors march to the western fronts as she pushes for more and more territory.

Relations:

Daughter of Lakestar [Mother Redacted]

Mentor of Antpaw✝and current mentor of Beepaw

Mate of Egretfur

Extra:

Voiceclaim: n/a

Genetic description: calico norwegian forest cat mix

#warrior cats #warrior cat #warrior cat oc #oc #Houndstar #Spottedstar #Spottedclaw #Mistmend #Character profile #my favorite oc i love her #manipulative girlboss

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

Text

Whiskers & Kittens

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Raindrops & Roses || Whiskers & Kittens || Tied Up With Strings

Summary: You follow your instinct to New York in the hopes of finding Bucky, praying that he remembers as much of you as you do of him. Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, smut WC: 2783

|| MAIN MASTERLIST || BUCKY'S MASTERLIST ||

Doubt crept into your head as you stepped off the plane and held your passport tightly in your hand. There had been something innate calling you to New York ever since you woke up in the hospital. No one knew what had caused you to fall into the coma you had been trapped in and they were just as stunned by your sudden awakening that you were never able to get answers. They had dismissed the peculiarity as a miracle and released you from their care, satisfied you were completely healthy.

Images of a man filled your mind as you flagged down a cab, a man that was both a stranger and someone you knew so well, so intimately. His eyes had been haunting you since you woke up and you had to know if you were going crazy so you had gone in search of him. It had been surprisingly easy to find the famous Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but you had only known him as Bucky. What was harder was making contact, he didn’t have social media and being a national hero meant his phone number wasn’t readily available. You had resorted to taking a chance and flying out to New York and prayed fate was on your side.

“Where to miss?” The driver asked as you buckled yourself in.

“Brooklyn please.”

He rolled his eyes and looked into the rearview mirror with an annoyed expression. “You wanna narrow that down? There's 100 square miles to choose from.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t planned that far ahead when your stomach rumbled, “somewhere with good food, you must know somewhere.”

“Alright, I can dig that.” He nodded and pulled out of the pickup zone, leaving you to your thoughts.

You could barely focus on the beautiful views of the water that the parkway ran alongside, you were too preoccupied with the many variations of how your future might pan out with this trip. You had romantic notions of making eye contact across the street, seeing his bright eyes spark with recognition before you ran into his open arms. You also had cruel, but realistic, play by plays where he didn’t recognise you and your dreams were just in fact dreams, inspired from some news clip of him you had seen but forgotten about.

“Here you go, miss, best diner in Brooklyn.” The driver said proudly as he pointed to the sign of Mike’s Diner across the street.

You quietly thanked him and paid the fare before getting out with your suitcase in tow. The street was busy but then again it was the end of the business day in early spring, everyone was wanting to get home before the daylight disappeared and the night chill set in. The diner looked warm and inviting as you pulled your coat closer around you and waited for a break in the traffic to cross the road. Suddenly, a white streak of fur bolted past you as you stopped at the curb and you gasped as you saw it was a kitten heading straight into the busy street.

Common sense meant nothing to you as you stepped out after the bundle of fur and reached its frozen spot as a horn blared at you from a truck that had slammed to a stop. The sound was so close it was deafening and the blinding LED headlights left you disorientated so you rose to your feet with the kitten tucked safely in the folds of your coat. Stumbling away from the lights that reminded you of waking up alone in the hospital bed, you ran head first into the oncoming traffic and knew there was no time to get out of the way of the Suburban heading straight for you.

Oomph! The wind was knocked out of you and you felt like you had been hit by the SUV that brushed by you only to find it was a man who had tackled you out of the way and tucked you protectively under his arms. Sharp whiskers of a short beard burnt your cheek as it rubbed you until he pulled away and a small meow reminded you of what you had almost died for. You flung your coat open to find the little kitten still safely bundled up and you sighed with relief before looking up at your rescuer.

5 minutes earlier

“Dude, why are you so grumpy?” Sam asked, genuinely concerned for his friend who had been irritable for weeks.

“I’m not, you’re just overly sensitive.” Bucky shot back.

“Nah, man, I’m hungry. Maybe you’re hangry. Oh, we should go to Mike’s.”

Sam was already making his way down the street in the opposite direction of Bucky’s apartment and with a huff he followed behind. Bucky still wasn’t any better at cooking than he was in 1940 so the idea of going to Mike’s diner held some appeal. He also would rather do anything than go home where he was plagued by nightmares every time he closed his eyes. He didn’t want Sam to worry about him so he didn’t mention that he was barely sleeping, instead he just grew more irritable each day.

“There’s a crossing right there.” Sam shook his head, looking down the street at you about to jaywalk.

Suddenly you lurched forward and scrambled into the traffic and Bucky was chasing after you. An inexplicable pull called to him, and even if he wasn’t a super soldier who would probably survive being hit by a car he would have followed you, because his gut told him to. His hand planted on a car bonnet and he launched himself over the top before running down the centre lane to find a truck slam to a halt and blare its horn.

“What the hell, lady!” The driver yelled as you stumbled across the white lines and straight into the path of a big SUV.

Bucky pushed all his energy into his legs, forcing them to move faster than ever as he grabbed you and threw both of you out of the way to crash onto the pavement. Bucky could feel the places he would surely have bruises bloom but he kept you protected in his arms.

“Bucky?” You whispered, your fingers trembling as they ached to touch his face to see if it was real. “It's you.”

His eyes darted across your features, taking in every perfect imperfection he had spent weeks committing to memory with the fear he would forget his dream girl. The relief you saw in his eyes was everything you needed to see to know he remembered your life together too. You found the courage to touch him, your fingers tracing his jaw and feeling the whiskers of his beard beneath your fingerprints as he leaned his head closure to you. He had never let his beard grow more than a 5 o’clock shadow in your dreams and you liked the feel of it on your skin.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Y/n?” The pain in his voice ripped your heart apart and you threw your arms around his neck as he claimed your lips in a kiss that left you breathless. “I missed you.”

You could have spent the rest of your life just sitting there on the sidewalk, staring into the blue eyes you had thought you could never compare to the ones in the dreamscape but now they were brighter than ever before. Until a shadow crossed over them.

“Uh, Buck, what’s going on?” A man asked as he crossed his arms and cocked a curious eyebrow.

Bucky rose to his full height with you still in his arms and you stepped into the space under his shoulder as he struggled to answer him.

“I don’t even know how to explain this, Sam…” He shrugged. “Y/n, this is Sam, Sam, y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said quietly, before your stomach rumbled again.

“Likewise.” He laughed. “We were just going to get something to eat. Come join us.”

You looked up at Bucky and he was smiling at the invitation and already turning you towards the diner when a meow sounded. Your eyes widened as you realised you couldn’t go in the diner with the kitten but you didn’t want to leave it out near the traffic. You pulled the little ball of fluff out of your cloak to inspect him and found he had no collar and was looking a little rough around the edges.

“Oh, I can’t.” You sighed, holding the kitten closer. “I don’t want to leave him out here alone.”

“Here.” Bucky said as he took the kitten from you and zipped his jacket up so only the kitten white head and blue eyes could be seen. “Mike owes me.”

Sam snorted at the sight and shook his head. “Pretty sure he meant a free meal, not bringing his food rating down.”

You didn’t want to get Bucky in trouble and he could still read you like you remembered and shot his friend a glare before taking your hand. “It’s fine, just ignore him, it’s what I do.”

You took a faded purple seat in a booth with Bucky beside you and Sam opposite. There were a million questions swirling in his brown eyes as he looked between you and Bucky, especially Bucky as he pressed his nose to your hair and inhaled your scent deep in his lungs.

“Okay, I gotta know, how do you two know each other?” He finally asked after the dishes full of food were placed on the table and he tossed a few fries in his mouth.

You looked at Bucky to answer as you failed to come up with one that made sense and he looked just as stuck with the answer. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his lips pressed in a line and it was hard to imagine any time had passed from when you last saw him, he still looked and acted exactly like your Bucky.

“We, um, dreamt about each other?” He said, looking at you for validation and you nodded, it was the best you could come up with too. “Yeah, I’ve been dreaming about her for months then a few weeks ago they suddenly stopped.”

“Hold up.” Sam laughed awkwardly. “You mean to tell me you have never met before? Ever?”

“I woke up from a coma a few weeks ago and as soon as I could get discharged I came looking for you.” You answered to Bucky, an apologetic smile given as you noticed the bags under his eyes and exhaustion on his face. You cupped his face in your palm and frowned as you murmured quietly. “You haven’t been sleeping, my love.”

“Can’t without you.” He answered just as quietly, a private conversation between two lovers as Sam shifted uncomfortably.

“So are you a witch?”

You turned your gaze to Sam while Bucky’s head snapped towards him. “Not that I am aware of.”

“Sounds like something a witch would do, or a succubus. You’re not a succubus are you?”

A strangled sound escaped Bucky’s throat as he dropped his head into his hand and the kitten popped his head out at the strange sound.

“I think I am just a normal human, well as normal as one can be nowadays.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed and ate another few bites before he couldn’t help stopping to talk again. “At least we know why the cyborg was grumpier than usual. I’m glad you got a girl, man, now you can stop bugging me.”

⸻༻♥༺⸻

One Year Later

You felt the distinct sensation of being spied upon and you opened your eyes to find the bathroom door open just a slither but it was enough to spot the blue eye peeping in. You curled your finger over the top of the bath's edge and the door widened at the invitation. Bucky stumbled into the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he found Alpine fast asleep on the floor and camouflaged against the white tiles.

“Aren’t you meant to hate water?” He asked the cat who just lifted his head lazily off his paw to look at Bucky before going back to his sleeping position. “Geez, he’s got more attitude than me.”

“Sam would argue that.” You laughed and sat up as Bucky dropped his clothes into the hamper and took a seat behind you, the water rising dangerously close to the lip of the bath.

You laid back against his chest and enjoyed the deeper water as he rested his arms over the edge and tipped his head back with a contented sigh.

“Rough trip?” You asked as you played with the light hairs that covered his legs.

“Nuh-uh.” He grunted and wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer since he had missed two whole days of touching you. “Another false alarm. Sam seriously needs to sort his intel out before dragging me to these ‘places of interest’.”

“I wonder what’s going on, it’s not like him to go somewhere when it’s unnecessary.”

“Shh, don’t want to think about him right now.” He murmured in your ear as his fingers began to trace around your nipples and tease them to stiff peaks. “I missed you.”

He turned you in his arms and Alpine shot out of the room as water overflowed the bath to splash across the floor but you couldn’t even worry about the flooding when you saw the hungry fire burning in his eyes. Your poor super soldier was insatiable and two days with being able to feel your body around him must have been torture as he pulled you over his lap and rested you over his cock that was quickly growing against your entrance.

You sighed as he breached your entrance, filling you as he grew to his full size and you rolled your hips that were gripped tightly by his large hands. Waves sloshed around you as he helped you ride him deeper and your moans echoed around the small room, the puddle on the floor growing by the minute. You were about to suggest draining the bath before you lost your deposit on the apartment but your jaw went slack as he latched onto your breast and slipped his vibranium hand between your bodies to press against your clit.

“Bucky!” You gasped as he licked and sucked and fingered and fucked you to oblivion.

“I hate leaving you, doll, I could just stay buried in you until the end of time.” He whispered in your ear as he moved up to kiss the sweet spot on your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Your moans crescendoed as your skin began to heat to the point you felt like you could combust and your walls began to flutter around Bucky, earning a deep groan to rumble from his chest. His fingers gently rolled around your swollen clit and the way he bit his lip sent the last drop needed to fill your cup and you cried out as your orgasm sent shocks pulsing through your cunt. You almost rose out of the water as Bucky shoved his hips up into you and let himself feel the comfort of his release in you.

You didn’t even want to look at the state of the room so you closed your eyes and rested your face in the crook of his neck as his arms enclosed around you. It was only when the water was starting to get cold and his cock had slipped from your body that you opened your eyes and found Bucky fast asleep. He wouldn’t have wanted you to worry but you knew he never slept when he was away from you, the trauma of your pasts lingering in his head whenever you were separated.

“Baby, we can’t sleep in the bath.” You said softly as you gently woke him. “You already look like a shrivelled prune.”

He blinked a few times before he was awake enough to climb out with you and he barely dried himself off before crashing naked on top of the bed. You chuckled to yourself as you grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and draped it over his body and climbed in beside him.

Somewhere not too far away…

“The plan has worked, sir. Permission to sanction a team to retrieve the asset.”

The newest Hydra commander looked at the footage of the Winter Soldier’s last mission, spurred on from the decoy information they leaked to the defence force. He was indeed losing his control when he was away from the asset, he would undoubtedly become unhinged if he were to realise she was gone.

“Permission granted.”

Final part here.

Taglist Join Form @jessica11133 @nash-dara @buckyisperfect @itswanktime @slutforsexyseabass @sea040561

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x poc!reader

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pasteljeon · 4 years

Text

core pride (m)

❥ summary: ot7 where you’re rich and lonely so you adopt 7 hybrids. chaos ensues.

❥ genre: hybrid au, wolf!namjoon, tuxedo cat!yoongi, golden retriever!hoseok, tiger!taehyung, calico cat!jimin, bunny!jungkook, honey bear!jin

❥ warnings: brief description of assault/violence, panty sniffing, sub jimin, sub jungkook, ur once again the meat in the jikook sammich, bathtub sex, lotta angst, some fluff

❥ length: 6.6k

❥ notes: tis my first ever attempt at a hybrid au. please be kind :( let me know what you think <3

Winter, Year 20XX

The car beeps quietly, the sound piercing the stillness of the night as you glance up, watching as the powdered flakes flutter silently onto your coat. They sparkle in the muted glow of the streetlamp, soaking your hair and tickling your eyelashes.

Snow crunches beneath your boots, your steps freshly printed upon a new layer as you make your way to the door.

It is pointless to try and enter without perforating the peace. There are no lights on, but that is only because they do not need the artificial shine to recognize your silhouette. The sound of the tires pulling into the driveway, the slow beat of your heart, the steady rising and falling of your chest, the smell of damp clothing, the sweet touch of your shampoo and something indescribably you. They know it is you.

“Noona!” The faint, rapid thumping fades as his strong arms wrap around you, ignoring your muffled protests and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Another pair of arms circle your waist, a shiver whispering through your body at the feel of soft lips against the top of your ear.

“Hello, boys,” you sigh, the weariness weighing heavily on your limbs as you sink into their embrace. “You’re getting yourselves wet …”

“We missed you,” the one behind you disregards your weak attempt at chastising them, tail curling around your arm as he scatters featherlight kisses onto your jaw.

Jungkook says nothing, hands fumbling with the belt of your thick coat. He helps you shrug it off, hanging it on the side to dry.

One hand in each, they lead you to the master bathroom, carefully guiding you in the absence of light. As you pass the living room, you notice another body peeking from the corner.

Slitted eyes linger in the pressing darkness, raking over you once, and disappearing on your next blink.

The candles flicker, the lavender scent soothing and casting a warm yellowed glow to the room and you stop to touch Jungkook’s cheek. He exhales shakily, nuzzling your hand. One ear droops, covering the left side of his face, as if to hide his insecurity.

Jimin walks forward respectfully, twisting the knob to adjust the temperature until it is deemed appropriate and waits, perched on the porcelain, for the tub to fill, before dropping a rose bath bomb into it.

“Oh, bunny,” you murmur, watching sadly as he sniffles. Jungkook scrubs his eyes furiously, almost angry at his uncharacteristic show of emotion.

His body sags, arms clutching your waist tightly as he kisses you back hard, tasting salt and copper.

“Sorry,” he whispers, forehead pressed against yours. He dips his head to suckle the bite on your lower lip, running his tongue over it lovingly.

“Take off your shirt,” you say in response. He obeys, lifting his arms as his shirt comes off, fluttering to the ground. He arches at the feel of your hands running down his front. The deep ridges of his stomach are thrown in sharp relief in the shadowed light. This is what he has been working on, you realize, as your fingers dig into the defined v-lines that dip into his sweats. Jungkook whines at the pressure, body jerking as he staggers onto you. His skin is hot, and a shudder ripples down his spine when your palm meets his pectoral to steady him.

“Get in the tub, baby,” you say. Jungkook moves as if underwater, lethargic in the heat that knots his stomach. He kicks his sweats off, nothing underneath, and sinks into the hot water with a lewd groan.

“Kitten.”

Jimin rises at the sound of your voice, shirt gone in the next instant as he sinks to his knees before you. His gaze is reverent, tender, his touch gentle but firm as he strips you slowly. Covering every inch of bare skin revealed with his lips as he unbuttons your blouse, unclips your bra and unzips your skirt. His nose presses against your panties, inhaling deeply as his tongue flicks out to scent your core. The sight is obscene, so dirty it is enough to make you blush, if you were new to Jimin’s obsession with your taste.

“Smell so good,” he pants, suckling your clit through the soaked fabric. The bulge in his boxers is mouth-watering, and you can already feel the weight of his cock pressed against your tongue. His tail twines your ankle, and you stifle a moan at his feverish licks.

“In the tub, love,” you say softly, tugging at his black locks. Jimin mews and nods, shoving his briefs off before settling in the water next to Jungkook. They watch with hungry gazes as you step out of your panties and sink into the bath leisurely.

They wait, unmoving and hardly breathing, as you close your eyes, body loosening as the heat soaks into your sore muscles.

When the ache lessens, you stand, the water line edging just below your breasts, them greedily consuming the sight of the droplets sliding down your shoulder blades and perked nipples as you make your way to him.

Jungkook watches with half-lidded eyes, expression dazed and thoroughly fucked out already despite the minimal stimulation thus far. Your bunny, so easily tamed and pleased, with a sex drive so intense you could scarcely surface for a moment’s rest.

“Nnng,” he gasps when you flatten your palms to his pecs, raking your nails over his nubs. His chest pushes out to seek your punishing touch despite his furrowed eyebrows and cherry-bitten lips as if unable to decide if the stimulus was welcomed or not.

His cock, still impossibly hard, nudges your entrance from below the water. Jungkook has the audacity to blush when he feels it. “I—I’m—mmf,” his apology is swallowed by your kiss, his eyes rolling back as he keens into your mouth.

An arm snakes around to cup your right breast, thumbing your nipple. “Ahh,” Jimin hisses, biting back a needy whimper when you grip his cock.

He presses himself against you, the heat of him bleeding into your back. “My pain slut,” you coo as you release Jungkook. The bunny hybrid slumps back, lips slick with drool as he grinds desperately against you, gaze unfocused.

Your collective sounds echo delightfully in the wide expanse of the room, water splashing over the edges of the tub as the movement of their hips push waves swelling over the surface. They cannot resist the innate urge to brand evidence of their devotion onto your skin, the marks blooming and scattering like the wind over your thighs, stomach, and neck. Between two hard, hot bodies, they grip you with strong arms and you throw your head back, a faltering gasp caught in your throat as Jungkook ducks his head, dark locks plastered to his forehead, to sear a new constellation on your collarbones. Jimin’s sharp teeth are coaxing another violet flower to bloom across your jugular.

Your legs tremble when you finish, exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. The two seem to exchange silent conversation, and Jimin sets you down gingerly before allowing Jungkook to scoop you up. He steps out of the bath, the water a quarter of its initial level.

You open your mouth to protest, but Jimin kisses the pad of your finger. “It’s okay, noona, I’ve got it.”

Jungkook carefully helps you into the shower, the tiles cool against your burning skin. You lean heavily against him, smiling as he rubs your nose with his affectionately. Reaching for the shampoo, he works up a gentle lather, massaging your scalp soothingly. You sigh blissfully, closing your eyes briefly before stretching for the soap, running it over his abdomen.

The frosted glass opens quietly as Jimin steps inside, having finished draining the water. Jungkook rinses your hair, and you turn to Jimin to drizzle some on his while the younger scrubs at his curls. A faint thumping sound can be heard again when you rub Jungkook’s ears. He flushes hotly at your soft giggle.

By the time you are all finally clean and properly bathed, you are feeling slightly more refreshed and awake.

“Thank you. My good boys,” you whisper, kissing the crown of their heads. You smooth over their fringes, smiling fondly down at them. They are sharing the same room tonight, too tired to fight over who would warm your bed. Jimin purrs sleepily, and Jungkook merely blinks up at you tiredly, doe eyes soft and sweet.

“Sweet dreams.”

“Hey. Sorry I’m so late.” He stirs at the sound of your voice, hushed and melodic, eyes remaining closed even as his ear flicks. The mattress sinks slightly under the added weight.

“They were really worried,” he rumbles, raspy from the drag of sleep. “I know.” You stroke his hair, and he chuffs happily, melting. It has been three months already, and yet you have made little progress with some, while others still suffer from severe anxiety whenever you were away for too long. With your chosen field of study, that adjustment was difficult. Today has likely been one of the worst. You know because you are almost six hours late, and there is a stratum of palpable tension that lines the atmosphere of the house, one only slightly weakened by the physical announcement of your return.

“Tell us next time,” Taehyung murmurs, tail winding around your bicep. “Please. They were almost beside themselves. It took hours to calm them down. I worry about you.”

“I will. I’m sorry.” He accepts your chaste kiss as an apology, fatigued as he is. He is already drifting off, hugging the pillow close to him as you shut the door quietly behind you.

Namjoon is on the balcony when you find him. Like his counterpart, he is almost immune to the cold, with only a shirt and shorts. He is gazing at the stars, or what little of it is visible through the smog of the city. His ear twitches when you enter, but he makes no other indication he is aware of your presence.

You draw your shawl closer to your body, moving to stand a few feet apart, knowing he is still wary of you. It has not been easy, this tentative truce. The two of you are still fostering trust. Such a fragile concept, you think. So gruelling a task to establish, yet so easily destroyed.

“I was wondering if I needed to tell the others to pack again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you answer, smile crooked. You know he is trying. It is a joke, if you ever heard him utter one.

He finally looks at you. “Okay,” is all he says. His dimples crease, so you know to read between the lines to hear he really means; good.

“Good night, Namjoon.”

“Good night, owner.”

“I’m glad to see you’re okay.” Seokjin offers you a small smile, the one that makes his cheeks plump up like a loaf of bread.

“Thank you.” He lays back down, still watching you cautiously, as if to ready himself in case you struck. Your heart twinges a little, but there is not much you can do tonight. Tomorrow is a new day. You will try all over again tomorrow.

“We really like it here,” the hybrid blurts suddenly. He coughs, embarrassed, as his honeyed skin reddens. You laugh, the ache softening just a bit.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“Don’t. I don’t care. I was just checking if it was burglar or some shit,” the older of the two grumbles without even turning to you. He is a lump in the dark, curled up in the middle of his bed.

Hoseok simply rolls over.

You take a breath. Tomorrow. You will start all over again tomorrow.

Tonight, you just want to sleep.

“Good morning, noona!”

You smile as the two bound over to kiss either side of your cheek. The mixture of maple syrup, butter and batter must have woken them up, and if they are up, it is likely the other boys are just moments short from trickling in.

“Sleep well?” You place two plates on the table, clearing your laptop and files to the coffee table. One is heaping with pancakes, the other is reasonably stacked.

Jungkook finishes one in a single gulp, and beams. “It��s really good!” You squeeze his hand in gratitude before returning to the stove to finish making the rest just as the boys begin filtering in.

Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi take their individual seats at the table patiently with their phones in hand.

“Hi, beautiful.” Taehyung slides an arm around your waist, brushing your locks back as he smiles, kissing you softly.

Namjoon trails in, shuffling toward the fridge as he yawns. “Ah—” He fumbles with the tall glass and you watch in slow motion as it falls and shatters on the tiled flooring of your kitchen.

“Are you okay?” You exclaim, switching off the stove immediately and rushing over. Taehyung stops you from picking up the pieces, grabbing the sweeper as you gesture at the hybrid to step to the side with you.

Namjoon is frowning down at his hand, and upon spotting the cut, Seokjin, miles ahead of you, moves to pull the first aid kit in one of your cupboards instantly. The wound is already spewing a fair amount of blood, and you would have been more concerned had he been a man with solely human DNA.

“This will sting a bit,” you warn, but Namjoon does not even flinch as you gingerly wipe the gash with white alcohol soaked in a cotton ball. You wrap a bandage around it firmly, and tell him not to press on it before it fully heals. He mumbles a thank-you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Yoongi standing.

“Wait, Yoongi!” You call, hiding the hurt that flashes across your face when you see him roll his eyes.

“What?”

“I have something for you. Please, eat, and I’ll show you.”

Yoongi trails after you reluctantly as you lead him into the right wing of the mansion. It is scarcely used, furniture mostly curtained off with a thin layer of dust coating the surface of the covers. When they had first moved in, you explained it was because the place was big enough without the extra space. There was nothing interesting within, just more hallways and empty rooms.

It was not entirely true.

“My father always preferred the right wing. There’s more sun here, better views. I spent most of my childhood here,” you begin. Yoongi’s mouth tightens, but he does not protest. It is the first you have spoken about yourself beyond the niceties of your job and how your fortune came to be. He listens attentively, even as his tail swishes agitatedly.

“After they passed, I couldn’t see the place the same. I couldn’t live there anymore. The memories haunted me, I suppose,” you continue. “But out of it all, there is one thing I regretted closing off. I think you might be able to find better use for it.”

There is no door, just an impressive awning that leads into what appears to be a ballroom. Each step muted on the polished floors. You keep this room clean, he realizes with a jolt.

Yoongi skids to a stop, heart fluttering at his throat when his gaze falls upon the clothed bulk in the middle. He could recognize that form anywhere, and his face twists when you pull back the silk fabric. The impact frees a stray piece of hair, the lock falling over his eyes. He makes no move to push it back, face paling in horror and anguish.

“Yoongi? Yoongi? Hey, are you okay?” He refocuses to find your worried expression staring at him, your hand shaking his shoulder gently.

Immediately, he jerks his arm out of your hold, baring his teeth as he hisses. “Don’t fucking touch me. I don’t want that shit.” He hurls a venomous look your way, the fur on his tail fluffing out in alarm as he bristles.

“I’m … I’m sorry, I thought—” You are taken aback, hand falling limply to your side as you recoil.

“You thought wrong. You’re better off burning that shit,” Yoongi spits. The anger radiates off him, his ears flattening as he turns on his heel and stalks out.

Snapping out of your stunned daze, you hurry behind him, struggling to catch up, but he has always been lithe and quick on his feet. Yoongi storms through the living room toward his room, startling the boys still loitering in the area when he slams the door loudly. Hoseok gets up immediately and races after him.

They all swivel their attention to you when you arrive moments later, and your expression drops when you realize Yoongi has already disappeared.

“Bogum said he used to play the piano,” you say after a beat, voice small as you stare at your feet. You should be used to the rejection by now, but it still hurts, still makes your heart throb, the disappointment and continual failure swells in your chest like a tumor.

“I have the next three weeks off for the holidays. Let me know if there’s somewhere you’d like to go or something you’d like to buy,” you say flatly, avoiding Jungkook and Jimin’s mirrored concern as you trudge toward your own room.

“___—” You only shake your head, lips pursed. Shame crawls up your spine as you roughly wipe away the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m fine, Tae. I’m just tired. Please wake me at five so I can make dinner.”

Taehyung freezes, hand pausing where it is reaching for you, frown deepening as his heart clinches painfully when he scents the tint of salt in the air.

You shut the door quietly behind you right as your knees give out, collapsing into a heap against the wood. It has been months now, and if anything, your relationship with Yoongi is deteriorating. At some point you think he was starting to tolerate your presence. Hoseok still refuses to so much as acknowledge your existence.

You are just so tired. But Taehyung had begged you, the day you decided to take them in, he had begged you not to give up on them. That they all had personal baggage, trauma enough to drown anyone else. He had asked you to be their lifeline, and you are starting to wonder if you are in over your head after all.

“I wish you would give her a chance. She’s serious about us, you know.” Yoongi snorts, pulling the covers further over his head. “Go away, Taehyung.”

“She’s the one. I know it.”

“She’s just going to toss us on the streets when she’s had her fun. That’s all they do, these rich, bored humans,” Yoongi mutters. He picks at a frayed strand of the quilt he has been meticulously unravelling.

He hears the tiger hybrid sigh, and Yoongi stretches out, resting his head on his arm as he closes his eyes. “Just … please try. She’s a good person. All she’s ever done is try to help us.”

Yoongi grunts, rolling over.

You flinch, nearly cutting off your finger, when Yoongi takes a seat next to you after a week of tensed silence. Life had carried on as usual, with the three that seem to genuinely like you, the two that accept you, and the two that abhor you. You wanted to take them skiing at the alps up north, but Hoseok had dug his heels in and practically growled at you when you tried to suggest it. The youngest had looked so crestfallen you pulled him aside and hugged him, promising you’d take him next year instead, with or without his hyung. You would have gone without him this year, except all your friends had left the country for the holidays and you didn’t want to risk asking a stranger.

“You can’t woo me with gifts,” Yoongi coughs. He is looking away, chin propped on a hand.

“I … wasn’t trying to,” you say slowly, returning to your chopping. You pour the vegetables into a bowl, setting it to the side before you move to the stove, drizzling oil onto the pan.

Yoongi turns to watch you, for the first time a little uncertain as to the way you seem to shy away, avoiding his gaze. You seem almost resigned.

“I’m … sorry.” He cringes at the words. They sound too forced, too cold. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just … I haven’t played in a long time now.”

You make a noncommittal sound, and Yoongi’s nose twitches at the delicious smell of kimchi stir fry.

“I’d like to maybe … give it another shot. Or something,” he mumbles, rubbing the inside of his wrist absently. It’s one of his anxious ticks.

Your heart leaps, your movements stuttering in surprise. Are you allowed to be hopeful? You want to be.

So you say, “Okay.” And set a bowl before him with a small smile. His lips quirk, head inclining in gratitude.

It is a bit jarring, the way Yoongi lets you sit next to him on the bench. He does not move away, even as his body stiffens.

He’s … trying. He thinks you don’t notice the way his fingers tremble as they are placed on the keys, the way his tail sways restlessly. His ears are flattened to his head, the mere act of sitting at the piano taking a toll. You don’t need hybrid senses to know he is struggling to keep face.

“Hey. Don’t force yourself,” you say softly, Yoongi’s hand jerking when you hesitate in reaching for him. “I … I’m fine. It’s time, anyway.”

Then, he takes a breath, loosens his shoulders and presses down on the keys.

It gets a little better. Yoongi takes the days as they come. He rediscovers his love for the instrument, the first he’s ever played. His first love, if he has ever experienced such a concept.

With it come the memories of loss and grief. He cries for a long time the night after his first performance with you. It was cathartic, almost. Like he could be reborn from the ashes of his sorrow, like the awning hole inside of him could begin to heal, finally. And in some ways, it does.

He finds your company reasonable. Comforting, if he had the balls to admit it to himself. You rarely speak when he plays, just listening, and sometimes he catches you with glistening eyes that you hastily scrub away. His pieces are often melancholic. They were angry at first, full of rage and pain, until that too, was swept by the currents of the storm. He was always so exhausted after each session.

Now he has begun composing something new. You would stand, thanking him in that sweet voice of yours, sometimes quivering and other times a mere whisper. You never pitied him, he knew, but your sadness told him it was time to let go of the past.

He ignores Hoseok’s disapproving gaze every time, opting to pat the space next to him. “This one is a duet. Play with me.”

You look so bewildered he stifles a chuckle. “But I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you. Come.” You do, and he urges you to relax as he guides your fingers over the correct keys for the first line.

He hasn’t played for the other boys yet. For whatever reason, this feels sacred to just the two of you. It’s peaceful. He wants to keep it this way, just for a little while longer.

“It’s Christmas in three days. Would you guys like to celebrate?”

They look so excited. Even Hoseok glances up from his laptop to consider your proposal. In the background, Seokjin sneezes loudly. You throw his room a sympathetic frown. The eldest hybrid had fallen sick from the snowball fight from two days ago with the maknaes. You’d left his room after feeding him some congee and checking his temperature.

“Great! I’m going to the market for some supplies then. I’m going to pick up some medicine for Jin as well. We can all go pick gifts once he’s better. Would anyone like to come along?” You ask distractedly as you search for your car keys.

Yoongi growls in exasperation when Taehyung nudges him expectantly. Jungkook and Jimin both beam so eagerly the pianist grits his teeth and drawls with great reluctance, “I’ll go.” Namjoon doesn’t protest, only shrugs as if to say do what you want.

You stop in the middle of buttoning your coat in pure shock. He’s been surprising you a lot lately. “Uh … okay, let’s go.”

Yoongi stares up at the sky, streaks of fuchsia fading rapidly as the evening set in with chilly winds. His ears prick uncomfortably beneath the beanie he sports, unused to the compression. He’s waiting outside the pharmacy, leaning against the brick walls, bags weighing on each arm as people pass, laughing and chatting, without a second glance. Hybrids aren’t gawked at, but those without an owner at their side were held with suspicion and likely a dial to the hybrid protection services (read: hybrid prison). It is illegal to be wandering the streets alone.

Yoongi turns when he hears your familiar footfalls exit the store. Wordlessly, he takes the small brown bag you’re holding. He starts walking toward your next destination before you can object.

“Wait, Yoongi—ah,” you dig for your phone, the ringer making him cringe. He does, moving to the side with an audible sigh. You give him an apologetic look before answering it.

“Oh—hi, Bogum! Yes—yes. Ah, about that—I have a draft written up and I was wondering if you could take a look at it sometime soon. Mmm, I know, but it’s important it’s done as quickly as possible, I need it for when I’m gone,” you’re facing the other way, talking animatedly with the cell resting against your ear as you dig for a pen in your purse. His breath stutters, stomach dropping instantly.

“What is he talking about? What do you mean, when you’re gone?” He says sharply, and you glance up to see him right in front of you, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

“What?” You ask, putting a hand over the receiver. Yoongi sneers. “I always knew it was too good to be true. I’m done.” He drops the various bags onto the snow, and you shrink back in confusion and fear when he leans in to whisper, “Go fuck yourself. I’ll make sure you never see any of us ever again.”

“Don’t bother coming back. We’ll be long gone by then,” Yoongi tosses over his shoulder as he leaves. He relishes in the way your expression contorts in horror. He’s much, much faster than you, and he knows this market by heart. It’s not far from your house and he can easily beat you by foot.

“Yoongi!” You cry out, but you know it’s useless. Tears blur your vision as you blubber a quiet I have to go, I’ll call you later to Bogum who calls your name worriedly on the other line before pocketing your phone. You kneel, trying to gather all the bags at once. One is crushed at the bottom and you open it gingerly to find a smashed fruit cake oozing out of its packaging. You can still make out a crooked Merry Christmas Eve! scrawled lopsidedly at the edges.

You won’t make it in time. Muffling a sob, you sink to the ground, ignoring the way the snow seeps into your leggings. You really are pathetic.

“Please! Stop!” You pause, head cocking as you shut your trunk. Were you officially going crazy? Peachy, you scoff inwardly. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“P-please, let me go!” A scream tears across the parking lot. You glance around wildly, and no, you are not crazy because people duck their heads at the sound, whispering to one another as they scurry toward their vehicles. Yoongi is likely already home, and you know he’s smart, careful and capable of caring for himself.

So you grab your phone and a can of pepper spray and head toward the sound. You can’t be like them. You have to be human.

And you think your knees will give out, the pure heartbreak you feel when you round the corner of the street to find a young snake hybrid curled in a fetal position on the ground, three much older, scrawny men circling him, jeering and kicking.

He can easily overpower them, you realize, but he doesn’t want to. If he does, it’s only another reason for HPS to lock him away for good. He would rather suffer this moment than be chained forever. It’s enough to make your lip curl in distaste, fury building at the sheer injustice.

“Hey! Leave him alone,” you shout, marching up to them. The men stop, one squinting at you briefly before bursting into loud guffaws.

“You? What is a little lady like you going to do?” He crows. The last word is caught in his throat as you punch him in the stomach.

“I said, back off!” The other two look at each other, flabbergasted, and the man screams at them to do something as he’s on the floor, clutching his belly in pain. They charge at you, but you only roll your eyes at the added layer of sexism on the list of hell ridden crimes they are already guilty for. You’ve taken many, many lessons as a child, including mixed martial arts.

It can’t even be called a fight. They’re rolled onto the curb in the next heartbeat. You kneel next to the wounded hybrid, who tries to get up. He wobbles, and you coax him into leaning into you for support.

“Thank you, miss,” he croaks. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.” You wipe the blood on his lower lip gingerly. “Where’s your owner?”

“He went to get the car,” he answers softly. You give him a knowing look. He glances away guiltily.

“Yuto? Yuto!” Distinctly, the two of you turn at the sound of a new voice. Headlights sear your eyes for just a moment before someone hurtles out of the driver’s seat. “Holy shit, what happened?” The man cries, clutching at the injured hybrid. Yuto (?) winces, allowing the newcomer to sling an arm over his shoulder.

“I got jumped,” he whispers. “She saved me.” The man looks halfway into tears, reaching over to take your hand. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.”

You accept his gratitude with an awkward smile, patting his hand gently. “You shouldn’t leave him alone on the streets, especially at night.”

“It’s not his fault,” Yuto protests immediately. “I insisted.”

His owner shakes his head furiously. “She’s right. That was stupid of me.” He turns to you again, eyes shining. “Thank you so much. Truly.”

“Not at … all.” Huh? The world suddenly tilts, and you look down at your hands. There’s something dark dripping on your jacket, staining the fabric and you swipe at it lethargically, bringing it close. Oh. It’s blood.

The pain sharpens, and you gasp aloud at the fire spreading through your veins. Your knees do give out this time, and you can finally make out the sounds of a hiss, a piercing scream and someone calling for you before your body drops to the ground with a muted thud.

The last thing you are thinking is how you’d inevitably failed them after all.

Yoongi shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, the next gust nearly pushing his beanie off his head altogether, and he finds himself wondering if you were cold.

He violently shakes the thought away before opening the door. He sits down to unlace his boots, when Namjoon comes barrelling toward him. The other boys follow in suit; even Seokjin is padding around swaddled in a blanket. He scents the rising panic and anxiety in the house and he straightens instantly, alert.

“Yoongi, where the hell have you been?” Their leader bursts out. Yoongi has never seen the wolf hybrid so frazzled before.

“At the market?” He doesn’t know what kind of answer Namjoon was expecting, but it certainly was not the truth because his face twists in anger.

“Listen, Joon, she’s planning to leave us—” Yoongi goes on, and Jimin steps forward to slap him. The crack of the impact has his head jerking to the side, the sting setting in quickly.

“What. The. Fuck.” He says lowly.

“No. Where the fuck were you?” The typically soft-spoken and sweet hybrid screams. Yoongi stares in shock, flinching at the sound. Hybrid senses were heightened enough to hear the tiniest whispers, and his ears ring at the blow.

“If you mean ___, she’s probably on her way back,” Yoongi answers slowly. “That’s why I left, I found out that—”

“She’s in the hospital, Yoongi.” It’s Taehyung. His voice is hoarse, and he’s standing in a shadowed corner. His tail drags the ground as he moves, bangs hiding his expression.

“What?” The words taste like ash.

“She was stabbed while helping another hybrid,” Jimin seethes. He clutches his wrist, hand throbbing but he can barely feel it. Only registers the adrenaline and fear rushing through him.

“We’re waiting for Luna to come pick us up. She’s ___’s friend.” Jungkook sounds so small, so fragile when he speaks.

Yoongi’s legs buckle and he collapses, unblinking as he gawks at the floor. What did he do?

“There you are. Take it easy, now.” You groan, eyeballs burning as you pry them open with difficulty. It takes great effort to move your arms, and you stop when you feel a sharp tugging into your inner elbow.

“Fucking IVs,” you croak, and Luna’s smile focuses as she leans down to steady you. “How long was I out for?”

“A few days. It’s Christmas. A miracle, some believers might say.” She presses one of the buttons at the side of your bed, and a nurse appears shortly after.

“Your vitals are good. Doctor will be in momentarily,” the worker says, checking the equipment and making a few markings to your clipboard.

“You scared the shit out of them. You scared the shit out of me,” Luna informs you. Taking a glance around, your room is crowded with vases upon vases of your favourite flowers and several handmade art pieces you know are from Jungkook and Taehyung.

You lean back with a sigh. Your abdomen aches, and you know the scar this time isn’t going to fade.

The doctor walks in before you can reply. He gives you a full diagnosis of your condition and declares visits can start as early as tomorrow morning. Luna leaves with him, kissing your cheek and warning you not to overextend. You can only nod, sinking back into your pillow.

When you open your eyes again, the clock at the side notifies you it is just past ten.

And sitting by your side is Yoongi, face buried in his hands.

“Oh, Yoongi,” you breathe. He’s visibly shaking, ears flat and tail unmoving.

“I should’ve never left you alone. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry,” he rasps. He chokes on the words, rubbing his eyes furiously. He doesn’t have the right to cry. He pushes the chair away and gets on his knees, ignoring the strangled sound that escapes your throat. His forehead touches the ground and he doesn’t care that the floor is probably gross and full of viruses and bleach and disinfectant and a million other things. “I’m—so—sorry.”

“Yoongi,” your voice breaks.

“No, no,” he looks up, blinking away the tears as he fixes his gaze on you. “Don’t—don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

“Come here, silly kitty,” you whisper. His lower lip trembles and he lets out a sob. It’s loud and ugly and he scrambles to climb onto the bed, carefully weaving through the various cords and he curls up next to your injured side and he stuffs his face in your shoulder and he cries and cries and cries.

He cries until he’s empty and he falls asleep like that, eyes swollen and red, snot running down your hospital sheet, tail twined over your wrist, engulfed in your warmth.

“My original owner was an old man.” You can barely make out the words, so soft and unsure. He’s speaking into his pudding. Lunch came and went, and you roused him gently, knowing he likely hadn’t properly eaten since the incident.

Hospital food is hardly luxury but it’s food and the poor hybrid had already begun to look malnourished, complexion pale and cheeks sunken in. It was the stress and guilt that ate away at his ability to function.

“I was abandoned on the highway. The runt of the litter, I suppose. I didn’t come from one of those fancy breeding places. I was a bastard child. He found me, digging in his trash.” You stroke his hair, and he finishes the pudding in one bite, setting it down before snuggling back into you.

“He took me in. He was kind, and taught me how to play the piano. He was a retired pianist, and his wife had died the year prior. His son had been in the military. Died the first year out. He taught me to love the piano, to love music. Gave me a light and purpose when I had none. He gave me to the shelter when he passed. I had a lot of pent up anger. I ran away a lot. Didn’t know how to deal with the grief, I guess. He was all I knew. So I started picking fights to work through it, and Bogum would always be the one to drag me back to the shelter. Nursed me back to health every time. He never punished me, and I think the disappointment was what really broke me. I was ready to die. I picked a fight I knew I would never recover from. Hoseok was the one that saved me then.” Yoongi’s wet lashes tickle your jaw.

“Hoseok was also a different man then. He smiled a lot, laughed a lot. He was like sunshine personified. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to him. He taught me to control my anger. Through him, I met the rest. Jimin taught me to understand it. Namjoon taught me to release it through alternative channels. Like composing. I wrote a lot of songs there. Things were good for a while. Then they came.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Who—”

“Sorry, but visiting hours are ending.” Yoongi lifts his head to find your nurse smiling at the two of you apologetically. She checks your vitals once more before exiting to give you privacy.

Yoongi untangles himself from you reluctantly, nuzzling your cheek.

“Come back tomorrow, mmkay?” You squeeze his hand.

He nods, unable to meet your gaze even as his own cheeks flush lightly.

“Promise?”

Yoongi shakily takes your hand and kisses your ring finger. This time he does look at you, eyes ringed with gold as he says, “Promise.”

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