Daddy sits on the bed and motions me towards his lap. I do as I’m told while continuing to keep my wet panties in my mouth. I crawl over daddy’s lap lower my head and lift my butt up. Daddy rubs my bottom slow and gentle in little circular motions, then without warning spanks me hard. I yelp through my panties but don’t move away, I know daddy will punish me if I do. He repeats the same motions, gently rubbing and then spanking me, with every smack, I can feel myself getting increasingly wet to the point of practically dripping on his bed. Daddy continues until my butt is nice and red.
He reaches over to my mouth with his palm spread. I do what daddy wants and drop my panties into his hand.
“How’s my little girl doing?”
I wiggle my bum with enthusiasm. “I’m good daddy hehe”
Daddy reaches down and feels me, I’m dripping on his fingers.
“I’d say so. That’s my good girl” I’m overjoyed. Being daddy’s good girl is all that matters to me.
“I think you deserve a reward don’t you?”
“Yes please daddy!!” I say enthusiastically.
“Come here baby, come ride daddy”
I crawl on top of daddy and feel his big cock with my hand, stroking it briefly. Daddy knows I love to ride because I can control the pace and daddy won’t tease me. I ease on top, feeling daddy’s tip slowly stretching me as I make my way down his shaft. I exhale a moan as daddy’s cock fills my pussy. It feels so good. I begin bouncing on daddy’s cock picking up pace as quickly as possibly. Feeling the pressure build inside me.
I continue bouncing
“It feels so good!”
I continue picking up pace
I’m riding daddy as hard and fast as my little body can take, daddy’s cock feels amazing inside me.
“Little girl” daddy moans sternly
I reluctantly slow down
“Yes daddy?” I say innocently
“What do you think your doing?”
“Trying to finish daddy early??”
“No daddy! I swear!” Uh oh I’m in trouble.
“Mhm hands and knees baby”
“But daddy!!” Daddy gives me a stern look as if to say not go test him. I reluctantly climb off daddy’s cock and do as I’m told. Daddy goes and grabs something then comes up behind me.
“Put this back on your clit baby.”
“Yes daddy” it’s my clit stimulator I put it back on. I hear daddy squirt something from a bottle. My heart sinks. Uh oh, daddy’s going to play with my button again.
“This is only going to hurt for a bit, but daddy loves you and he promised it will get better, understand?”
I sigh, I wanna please daddy. “Yes daddy I understand.”
Good girl. I feel daddy’s tip, up against my button, I try my best to relax and not clench. Daddy’s done this only a couple times and I learned very quickly I have to relax and just let it happen. Daddy slowly begins pushing forward. My button slowly begins to feel like its on fire.
“No moving” daddy warns
I try my best to remain still and calm. Daddy continues to fill my behind with his cock. I wince in pain but remain as still as possible. Daddy’s cock is halfway in.
“Fuck baby girl, that’s my good fucking girl, so tight for her daddy”
Daddy pushes his cock forward and is balls deep in my button. I let out a small scream but manage to stay mostly still.
“You’re okay baby” daddy tells me and he begins to thrust slowly. In and out. The pain is still there but it slowly begins to lessen just as daddy promised, I begin to focus on the feeling of the clit stimulator as daddy begins to pick up pace. I let out a moan, this makes daddy go even faster. Now daddy’s pounding my ass while my clit is stimulated by my toy. It begins to feel like heaven. I start to feel the pressure build inside me again. I begin to squirm a bit. Daddy grabs me and holds me still.
“Don’t even think about it until you have permission baby.” I can only cum if daddy says so. Daddy’s going faster and faster dominating my ass, his property. I’m straining myself trying not to cum.
“Fuck daddddy” I moan in desperation. “Please let me cum daddy”
“You know the rules baby” daddy always cums before me. “Almost there baby girl this may hurt a little” I feel daddy ram me harder then before, daddy’s right it does hurt. He does it hard and fast that it causes tears to form in my eyes a bit. Daddy keeps going and going and going and suddenly I feel my ass being filled with something besides his cock. Daddy blows his entire load in my ass as he continues to fuck me and it feels amazing I can’t help it anymore.
“Okay baby you can cum for daddy”
Instantly I finish letting out the loudest moan. My entire body feels stimulated.I’m breathless. Daddy pulls his cock out of me and with it his cum. I fall to the bed exhausted. I always get sleepy after I cum. Daddy caresses my hair and kisses my forward, as I snuggle up to him.
“Thank you daddy”
My first Reid smut! Just an idea that popped in my head. PWP. Spencer Reid x Reader smut. The reader wonders just how Spencer gained his stamina in the bedroom, he shows her just how he gained that skill.
“Spencer, can I ask you something kind of,” You hesitated, “Personal?” You were both on his couch, you lying down with your feet in his lap. It was one of his rare weekends without a case or paperwork. You both opted for a quiet night in after going out to lunch.
“Sure?” He said looking up from his book, a little concerned. “We’ve been together for months Y/N, I hope you know you can ask me anything.”
“How do you last so long in bed?” You blurted out, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. You didn’t mean for it to sound so accusing. It was a valid question though, just the night before you came three times before Spencer even seemed close to finishing. It got you curious, and even a little worried.
For @snowbaz-feda day 24. Do I come up with all my ideas for fics by taking a random meme and turning it into a spell? Absolutely.
This is absolutely fine. No big deal.
a crush. A stupid, meaningless crush, and it’s just because he’s attractive, it’s
not like I have real feelings for him
(not really, well, I do think about him a lot,
don’t I?) and it’s not like I actually want to be with him or anything (but
only because I know it’s impossible) and besides, Baz never has to know.
to write him a note. Like a little schoolboy with a crush. I’m not going to
sign it – obviously – I just want to say something to him. I know that he’s
cold and distant and will probably sneer at my note and make fun of the sender,
but it makes me wonder why he’s like that. Why he can’t express any emotion
other than sadistic amusement (and I know he feels other things, because he
cares about his family, and he gets angry at me. You don’t get angry if you don’t
I guess I
just need him to know that he is loved.
I don’t love him. Obviously. It’s just
Penny for a spell to disguise my handwriting. She gives me a knowing look (I
haven’t told her anything but she’s my best friend and she’s too smart not to
know) and casts it on me. Quickly, before the spell wears off, I grab a spare
piece of paper and write:
I think about kissing you all the time.
the note in half and stuff it in my pocket.
I know it’s
dumb. I just wanted to be able to tell him that. Even though he’ll never know
it was me.
Hi! I really like your writing and was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort type thing where Neil runs away and Andrew has to find him?
Hey! So, a million years later… I hope you like this. It might be a bit lacking on the comfort because this prompt ate my heart *cries*
Neil’s expensive running shoes hit the pavement with satisfying slaps. He’s reached his peak stride and every movement is effortless, his breaths come easily and his heart is ticking at a steady rate. He would never admit it to the others but the natural high from the flood of endorphins is what keeps him moving, even after regular practices and training. Every member of the team has a coping mechanism or two, Neil just happens to have one that is healthy, one that stems from a lifetime spent on the run and the necessity to be fast.
The neighborhood is familiar, one he’s run through almost every day since he first picked this route over a year ago. He was cold when he started the run, the early December chill biting through his sweats and light running jacket and T-shirt, but now he’s warmed up enough that he’s breaking a sweat. Cars pass by, slow. No one is out walking or running at this hour, it’s too early and too cold for the native South Carolinians. But Neil was born and raised in Baltimore, he’s had to endure hours out in the freezing cold, plus he’s lived in some other places, farther north, where the winters lasted for endless months of ice and snow.
Neil takes a right, heading down a narrow side street that runs behind a row of off-campus apartments. He’s not really thinking about anything, just enjoying the burn in his muscles, the rhythmic inhale and exhale of his breaths, when his phone rings.
The tone gives away the caller. Neil didn’t go to the trouble of picking a song, he simply picked the most ominous pre-programmed ringtone and left it, dreading the day he would hear it.
Ducking behind a large oak tree Neil pulls the phone from the pocket of his jacket. His fingers tremble as he stares at the name. It’s been nearly six months since they last communicated. He flips the phone open, holding it to his ear; he covers his mouth with his other hand, trying to silence his breathing.
Neil doesn’t gasp, doesn’t react. You knew this was coming. You knew.
“Are you exercising? You sound out of breath.”
He would stop breathing if he could.
It’s a warning that won’t be repeated.
“Yes,” Neil replies, taking slow, quiet breaths. “I was running.”
He crouches down on the cracked sidewalk, weight balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to run, ready to move. He needs to go, the urge is so overwhelming that he has to close his eyes and focus all his thought on the voice at the other end to keep from taking off.
“My men have been keeping tabs on you. Our mutual agreement is progressing well.” A pause. Neil hears swallowing, the delicate clink of ice in a glass. “You have winter break coming up.”
The silence stretches until Neil realizes that he is meant to speak.
“Yes.” It’s barely a whisper. He’s losing it, fast. The sooner the call is over the sooner he can—Neil doesn’t even know. It feels like someone is stepping on his chest.
“You will come to me.” There is no room for negotiation or argument. There is no acceptable answer other than an affirmative.
“Understood.” It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
“Good. My assistant will be in touch with the details.” Neil waits, his self-control unraveling by the second. “Take care, Nathaniel.”
The call ends and Neil’s up and running. He pulls the back of the phone open, the thin plastic backing clatters to the pavement, followed by the thunk of the battery hitting the sidewalk. Neil is on autopilot, running another drill that his mother instilled in him. His nails scrabble with the SIM card and he tosses it down the storm drain. The phone gets chucked into someone’s trashcan.
He’s only a few miles away from a decent sized gas station where he can get a ride to one of the major interstates, 20 or 26 or 77. His internal map of the east coast opens up and he weighs the options; he still shies away from Baltimore, from northern cities where the devil he knows lurks. The pull to travel south kicks in, hardwired like a migratory instinct.
At no point during his exodus does Neil stop and think about what—who—he is leaving behind, he doesn’t stop to examine why he’s running. Every step of the way he hears Ichirou’s voice and the cold possession that laced every polite word. You will come to me. He’s running on impulse, he’s running blind, he’s running, he’s running, he’s running—
Andrew gets the call after midnight. He is not in a good place, has not been in a good place since Neil failed to return from his run. Before the panic set in he was calm, able to methodically check Neil’s usual spots, then he contacted Wymack and Abby when Neil did not turn up for his classes. Once lunchtime hit Andrew had met his limit for staying calm and the Foxes were sent on a campus-wide, then town-wide, search for Neil. Andrew followed Neil’s running route and found the pieces of the phone, though he didn’t find the phone itself. Standing there, in the empty space behind the apartments, clutching a fucking cell phone battery… it was almost worse than Baltimore. It was worse because this time Neil had chosen to run. And Andrew didn’t know if he would come back.
“I fucked up.”
Neil sounds exhausted and empty and broken and—
“Andrew. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I want to come home. I want to explain—”
“Where are you.” Andrew doesn’t want to hear another word, not like this, over the phone with Neil gasping like he can’t breath. Andrew’s anger feels too enormous for this conversation but he tamps it down.
“At your house.” Andrew checks his phone; the number is for the landline at the Columbia house. He had recognized it, of course, when the call came in but he had been too distracted to know what it meant. “I had the key with me. When I left…” Neil sobs once; Andrew shuts his eyes, squeezing his hand into a tight fist. “I want to come home.”
Andrew can’t speak. He wants to yell, to throw all the fucking harshness and recriminations and fear at Neil but he doesn’t. Instead he throws the phone at the wall, the impact hard enough to shatter the phone, to knock a dent in the dry wall.
“Andrew?” Nicky stands in the doorway, hugging himself, his eyes huge and watchful.
“He’s in Columbia.” Andrew collects his wallet and keys, grabs a jacket and Neil’s duffle bag, prepped and packed for a fast exit. “He’s fine.” The word comes out caustic and even as he says it Andrew knows that it’s not the truth. If Neil had been fine he would never have run, if Neil had been fine he wouldn’t be sobbing and begging on the phone. Neil Josten had stopped being a rabbit. Neil Josten had stopped being afraid. Yet some habits and patterns were difficult to unlearn and if anyone understood that it was Andrew.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Andrew tells Nicky as he slides out the door, “maybe.”
Neil sits on the couch for hours, waiting for Andrew. He doesn’t trust his body to stay put once he sets it in motion. He isn’t sure how he ended up at the house. Maybe it was the familiar press of the key against his palm, or the way his heart had surged when he saw Columbia on the signs heading south. He had walked for miles from the truck stop to the house. He was exhausted and hungry but felt too unsteady to even raid he fridge. He wanted Andrew. He wanted to know that he could be forgiven, that he could come back, that he hadn’t broken the something that kept the two of them together.
The house is pitch dark and cold when Andrew arrives. Neil sees the headlights through the windows, hears the familiar sound of the car door slamming shut, the quiet rasp of the key unlocking the front door. And he can’t stay still any longer. He’s on his feet, limping and then running, not away but to—straight into Andrew.
Andrew catches him, his strong arms wrapping around Neil, trapping him. Neil doesn’t—can’t—he collapses against Andrew and it’s like the tears won’t fucking stop, even when he coughs, trying to bring himself under control because it’s so pathetic, when did he get so pathetic?
“Neil.” Andrew’s voice is a growl, low and deep, full of emotions that Neil can’t possibly untangle. “Breathe.”
Neil’s arms hang at his sides, hands fisted tight so he won’t touch, won’t grab. He’s trembling, or maybe Andrew is.
“I want to go home,” Neil manages to say. He hates how broken he sounds; he hates the desperation crawling up his throat.
Andrew takes Neil’s hand, presses the key into it, his other hand holding onto the back of Neil’s neck. The faint glow from the automatic porch light illuminates the side of Andrew’s face, showing the hard line of his jaw, the tight set of his mouth and a brief, warm flash in his hazel eyes.
“You are home,” Andrew answers.
It could have been worse. Andrew lies next to Neil on the bed and smokes another cigarette. Neil’s passed out, curled up at his side, looking beat. Andrew taps ash into the ashtray and exhales, watching the smoke drift towards the ceiling. The house has warmed up a bit since he turned on the heat but he still shivers, sweat drying cool on his skin.
It could have been so much worse. Neil could have kept running and Andrew knows that he never would have found him, none of them would, not even Ichirou Moriyama. The name has a bitter tang. Neil told him what Ichirou had said, what he had demanded. Perhaps, at another time, it wouldn’t have bothered Neil as much. But they were nearing the one-year anniversary of Andrew being sent to Easthaven, of Neil going to Evermore, horrible times for both of them. Andrew knows enough about his own triggers to understand where Neil is coming from, to understand how a convergence of circumstances had overwhelmed his rational mind and sent him panicking, running.
It could have been worse. Andrew stubs out the cigarette and burrows under the covers, making sure to leave space between him and Neil. He doesn’t turn off the bedside lamp; he doesn’t take his eyes off the man lying beside him. Neil is still and quiet and Andrew lets that calm wash over him, lets it ease the turmoil that continues to twist him up inside. He came back, he stayed. Andrew pulls the covers over Neil’s shoulders and studies the scars on Neil’s cheek. It could have been worse.
[FYI: inspirational/mood songs for this fic are ZVVL by Chvrches and The Race by Thirty Seconds to Mars]
Jikook looked domestic af I'm a sobbing mess T__T the size difference OMG Everytime I see the gif where JM is leaning on JK to whisper to him I can't help but imagine how they are used to this kind of contacts and when they're alone they're probably more freely touchy, I love boyfriends. Those little tiny hands on JK huge and solid pecs.... help....
Domestic Jikook is what I live for!!! They were so giggly and cute and sharing food. And the best part of it all: it all seemed so natural. I can’t imagine how touchy they are when they are alone. AND I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THE PECS THING A LOT RECENTLY. With the way JK was sitting, his chest was all pushed out making it look big and then Jimin put his tiny (and beautiful) hand on his pecs and just– ;_______; Imagine him putting his hands on Jungkook’s chest, getting up on his tip toes and kissing him sadjf;sd
(yes I giffed this up close and slowed it down just for this ask ♡)
A/N- Hey it’s Blake. I hope you guys like this I spent a while on it and I hope it doesn’t confuse you. Love you all.
You were asked to do this video and against your better judgement you said yes. You were doing a video where you had to talk with your ex. You would be asked questions about your relationship and all. You hated thought that you had to sit in front of Shawn for an hour or so and talk to him about what the two of you use to be. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, but you also weren’t sure you were ready to see him again.
“Okay Y/N so what we’re going to do is interview for a few minutes while Shawn’s being interviewed in the other room. Then we’ll bring him in here and get started with the questions. You are free to end it at anytime or take a break. You ready?” the woman asked you as you sat in your place.
“Yeah, let’s get this over with.” you said and the camera started rolling.
“Y/N will you just sum up your relationship Shawn. How it started ” the woman asked you.
“Well Shawn and I were friends for about 5 months. We were super close and we both liked each other and couldn’t deny it any longer. We started dating and it was amazing. We dated for just over 2 years and then it ended.” you told the camera.
“Okay that’s perfect. I’ll go check and see if Shawn is ready.” the woman left a room.
You scrolled through your social media while you waited. You passed a few pictures of you and Shawn from back when you were dating. It had only been 3 months since you guys broke up and you still weren’t 100%. You weren’t even sure why you said yes to this, because he wasn’t even near you and you felt like crying. You looked up from your phone when you heard the door open. Shawn was following behind the woman and looking at the ground. When he got to his chair that’s when he finally made eye contact with you. He gave a small smile then looked down at his hands.
“Hey Y/N.” he said looking at you again.
“Hey.” you nearly whispered.
It was really awkward and you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. You each had 4
cards with questions that the other had to answer. It didn’t seem like Shawn was going to start so you decided to start.
“I guess I’ll start. So my first question is what is one thing you miss about being in a relationship with me?”
“So much. Driving around when you can’t sleep, movie days, listening to all your dreams, seeing you out in the crowd when I preform, showing you new ideas, writing about you, sleeping to-” he would have kept going but you cut him off.
“I said one.” you said softly laughing.
“You always cutting me off when I would go on and on about stuff.” he said looking into your eyes which you looked away.
“My first question is if you could relive one thing from our relationship what would it be?”
You thought about this for a second before responding. There was so much you wanted to relive. You couldn’t just pick one.
“Either going on tour with you and getting to watch you sing all the time or just quality time at home.”
“I always knew you were my biggest fan.” he said smiling at you.
“I still am. Anyways next question. Did you really love me?” you asked and you saw Shawn look at you hurt.
“No doubt about it. Did you ever feel like I didn’t?” he asked straying from his questions on his card.
“Is that your next question?”
“Sure.” he said just wanting to know what you had to say.
“No. You gave me everything I could wish for. The best 2 years of my life.” you said feeling guilty he might have thought he wasn’t good enough.
“Good. I wanted the best for you.” there was a pause before you asked you next question.
“Did you ever feel like I was slowing you down?” you asked.
“No, but yes.” he said and you looked at him a bit offended. “You distracted me while on tour, but in the good way of course. I loved having you there by my side. You gave me inspiration. Singing without you now just feels pointless.” you started feel emotional as he continued. “I- I haven’t really had motivation to do anything lately. You know? Like I can’t sing like I use to, I just sound sad. I just miss you and love you so much.”
Guilt was written all over your face and you felt like you were about to cry. Shawn just said he loved you and missed you. He said he was sad without you and things weren’t good. They weren’t good with you either, especially now.
“I need a minute.” you said getting up and walking out of the room.
You leaned up against the wall as you felt your emotions take over. You started to cry. God you thought you could do this, but you couldn’t. You wanted him back so bad and hearing that he missed you and couldn’t function like he use to hurt. You calmed down and wiped away you running makeup. You took a deep breath than opened the door and walked back to your chair across from Shawn.
“You okay?” Shawn asked placing a hand on your knee.
“Yeah. Sorry about that, who’s turn is it?” you asked taking another deep breath.
“Mine. How are you doing about this whole break up?” Shawn asked you.
“Good.” you said confidence nowhere in your voice.
“Really? You don’t look to good. I mean you look amazing as always, but there isn’t that light behind your eyes anymore.” Shawn said and your heart was pounding.
You just wanted to tell him that you were still madly in love with him and wanted him back, but is wasn’t the time.
“I mean no I’m not fine and I feel like I never will be, but it was two great years of my life and I miss it.”
“I miss it too.” he told you.
“Do you still love me?” you read off your next card and you start to regret doing this whole thing. You already knew his answer from the previous answers, but you didn’t want it to be true.
“Yes. 100 and 10 percent yes. You were and still are the love of my life. Always have been always will be.” you could swear you heard both your hearts beating in sync. You two were meant to be.
“My last question is why did we break up?” he asked and the night it all ended flooded back to you.
5 months ago…
You felt like you were dragging him down. He loved being able to tour all over the world and you were asking him to stop for a bit. He didn’t deserve that ad although her agreed to it, you felt guilty. You were sitting alone in your shared apartment when you decided it was you that was the issue. You packed up your stuff and left only leaving behind a note that simply said ‘i’m sorry it had to end this way, but I don’t want to be the reason.’ you blocked him on everything and refused to read all the articles about your break up. Nobody knew why you did it except you, Shawn didn’t get much of an explanation so you knew the online sources were 100% wrong.
“Um well basically I just felt like you could do better without someone like me. I was home alone and asked you to come home from tour and you were so willing, but I felt so guilty. I packed up and left, I thought it was just the best way to end it. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.” you explained.
“You never told me why or where you went. I didn’t know if you were safe and I have barely slept since. Y/N you never need to feel guilty. I said yes to coming home because I missed you and needed you. When I go home to an empty apartment I had no idea what happened and I thought the worst.”
“I’m sorry Shawn. I should have told you and given you and better explanation. But the past is in the past and I can’t change that. Now you know I’m safe so go home and sleep.” you suggested and he just looked at you.
“Okay one last question for the both of you.” the woman behind the camera said. “Shawn would you give Y/N a second chance and Y/N would you give Shawn a second chance.”
“Without a doubt yes.” Shawn said looking at you. “Come on Y/N we can make it like nothing ever happened.” he said softly and you nodded your head.
“Yeah I definitely would.” you smiled up at him and he took that as a sign to stand and pulled you into a kiss.
“I’ve missed you so much Y/N. I love you. Thank you.” he said into the kiss.
You pulled away and you felt different. It was as if Shawn was all you needed to make you feel complete again.
“I love you too Shawn.” you told him then the cameras cut.
Can ADHD make it harder to read aloud? Like when you read in your head you are really fast, but once you have to read it to class or whatever you mess up words, stutter, etc.?
Yes, I think so. It can be hard to slow down your brain as you’re reading, so you stumble over the words because your eyes are already way ahead. I think this can sometimes be a hazard of being a fast reader more than of having ADHD. I’m good at reading out loud and I’m fairly quick.
Prompt: Imagine years ago, you used to work with Jonathan Pine and John Wick, and both of them were madly in love with you but chose to keep quiet for the job’s sake, and eventually, each of you went separate ways. When they find out you’re in trouble, they reunite and join forces to save you.
How were you in this situation? Easy - you killed for a living. Ironic, isn’t it? You take the life of someone else to earn your own. It wasn’t that simple though. You killed people who you were ordered too - thankfully, so far, they were like you. Mob men, bodyguards, people who posed a threat to whoever your boss was. You didn’t kill random people, that would be sick.
But apparently no matter how you tried to justify what you did, you were still in Beijing, at the hands of the Chinese Mafia. You had gotten in over your head on this one. The hit was a big wig in the Chinese Mafia, you thought maybe you could take him but apparently you bit off more than you could chew.
Summary: Werewolves, contrary to popular belief, are usually gentle creatures. Except for a very specific set of circumstances, they would never hurt a human (on purpose). The few unfortunate times when mistakes were made put a permanent dark mark on the beasts and people began labeling them as monsters. What the human population failed to recognize was the fact that they were protecting us from something much more sinister. Luckily, a few survived and the gene was passed down hereditarily until one day finding its way to me… in the form of my best friend.
Loyalty is often as blind as justice should be, as unstable as a lightning storm ought to be, and as misplaced as an opinion in the truth.
“Eun, stay here,” Munhee instructs, the intensity in her voice causing my skin to crawl. “You’ll be safer that way.”
“But noona,” Namjoon interjects. “Couldn’t we use this as training for her and Jungkook?”
Hoseok is the one who answers, “No, this one doesn’t smell right. It’s… different.”
He can smell it from here? But he’d said it was about a kilometer away. The thought is somewhat haunting, but I let it slip from my attention to focus on more pressing matters. A demon is heading into town. That’s what Jimin had said. When Namjoon had spoken of the “malicious spirits,” he’d mention the fact that the pack has dealt with them before. So why is everyone so tense?
“Exactly,” Munhee argues, the stress of a time constraint evident in her voice. “Jungkook will already be feral because of its presence. None of us need to be put in unnecessary danger when he does something stupid to protect Eun.”
Jungkook stiffens, protesting, “I wouldn’t do anything stupid-”
“Yes, you would,” Yoongi cuts him off, silencing the maknae with a glare.
“But this is a good learning opportunity,” Namjoon insists as he grabs one of the backpacks lined up near the door, obviously anxious to not be idle.
“I agree, we’ll all be there. And a demonstration would be beneficial,” Seokjin adds.
“We don’t have time for this,” Hoseok says, entire body rippling, ready to transform. My confusion and ignorance prevent me from feeling the panic that everyone else seems to be suffering. Hadn’t Namjoon been confident about their ability to handle the situation? Could it really be that bad? Maybe they were just nervous because they had a routine and Jungkook and I had interrupted their flow. Maybe Hoseok is overreacting? This line of thought also keeps my nose above the surface of “deep anxiety,” though I must acknowledge the nervousness nipping at the edges of my consciousness.
“We could take Eun along and leave her at a safe distance,” Taehyung offers. “Just so we can get going now.”
“And decide along the way,” Seokjin nods his approval.
“She’ll still be a distraction for Jungkook,” Yoongi retorts, casting another glare at Jungkook to shut down a complaint before it happens. “And who would watch her anyway?”
“This is too urgent for arguing, she stays,” Munhee says decisively. “We can’t-”
“This is stupid,” a new voice chimes in, causing everyone to turn in surprise and stare at Jimin. “She needs to see what happens and you know it. Stop babying Jungkook and more importantly stop babying Eun. They’re going. Both of them and I’ll take responsibility for her. It’s not like you guys care what happens to me anyway.”
Victorian Trixya AU in which Katya is a wealthy heiress and Trixie is homeless. Their story unfolds through unfortunate circumstances.
Hi guys! Thank you so much for all of the lovely feedback on the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! As chapters go on, we’ll definitely see more interaction between Trixie and Katya. Feedback is appreciated :)