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nova-is-a-writer-now · 8 days

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Hidden embers

Chapter 5

Chapter summary: You and Joel have a much needed conversation to try and fix things, key word “try.”

A/N: Hi hellooo it’s hidden embers Wednesday (BETTER LATE THAN NEVER). Writing this story is genuinely bringing me so much joy, I’m glad you guys are enjoying reading it as much as i am enjoying creating this world. If you haven’t figured it out yet, this story is much more about the plot than it is about smut or fluff, so if that’s what you’re here for, you’re gonna have to be patient (it’s gonna be worth it i promise!!) Again, tysm for the support on this, the comments make me so so happy and motivate me to keep writing this, much appreciated 🤍

Warnings: No outbreak AU, no use of y/n, no sarah, Age gap, DBF!Joel, Slow burn, a tiny bit of angst, Mean!Joel if you squint

Series masterlist

You’re in a shit mood. Have been for a while, though you refuse to dig too deep to pinpoint when it started. It might’ve been around the time Joel kicked you out of his house, but honestly, it’s inconsequential.

The point is, your mood’s been sour for the past week, and this stupid boot you have to wear for your sprained ankle isn’t helping. What really pisses you off is the doctor saying that if you hadn’t walked on it, it’d be a grade 1 sprain instead of a grade 2.

‘Cause what the fuck does he know about why you refused that car ride home? What does he know about the churning, boiling anger twisting in your gut every time you hear the name Joel Miller? And then, to make it all worse, he had to recommend two weeks of bed rest so your ankle could heal properly and as fast as possible. Safe to say that doctor isn’t exactly on your list of favorite people right now.

On top of that, your mother’s been parading you around like a prized pony all week, forcing you to sit through those never-ending pageant meetings she insists on holding at the house. It’s like she’s playing the role of a doting, concerned mother in front of her friends, fussing over you as if you’re some fragile doll. Which is funny because you’ve told her on multiple occasions you’d rather stay in bed and rest your ankle than get dragged downstairs while on crutches, yet she insists on how rude it would be to not come greet the guests.

Thankfully, today’s a bit different. She’s gone out to scout venues for the pageant, leaving you in the care of your dad. Normally, you’d be relieved by that, but not today. Not when you overhear him on the phone inviting Joel over to watch the Cowboys game.

“Oh good, you’re up. Joel’s coming over,” your dad says with a grin as you make your way slowly towards the living room couch. “Figured we could all watch the game together. Like old times.”

You’re not a massive football fan, never have been, but watching the games with your dad was always something you enjoyed. It was your thing. Now, the thought of sharing that time with Joel makes your blood boil. Sure, he’s been doing this with your dad way longer than you have, but the last thing you need this week is Joel sitting next to you like nothing happened, like the astronaut-looking boot immobilizing your foot isn’t a constant reminder of why the injury got so bad in the first place. He might not be at fault for you walking all the way back home, but he’s certainly to blame for making you angry enough to do it.

The tightening knot in your chest isn’t just about what happened—though that certainly adds fuel to the fire—it’s about the mess of emotions you’ve been grappling with ever since. You’ve always prided yourself on being mature, on handling things with a level head and a clear mind. You’re the one who’s got it all together, the one people turn to when they need advice or a shoulder to lean on. But when it comes to Joel, all that goes out the window. You find yourself acting in a way you never have, even as a teenager.

You hate that you care this much, that his actions affect you so deeply, and that you can’t just brush it off like you do with everything else. You hate that what he is doing —the sudden coldness and firm boundaries— are probably the right thing for him to do. Hell, you even respect him for it, in a twisted way. He’s keeping a polite distance from his best friend's daughter, and it makes it that much more pathetic that it upsets you so much. His rejection, no matter how justified, still stings like a slap to the face, and the way he went about it, so abrupt and dismissive, only adds salt to the wound.

But it’s more than just anger at him. It’s anger at yourself, too. For feeling this way. For letting it get to you. For wanting something that you know you shouldn’t, something that feels wrong on so many levels. You can’t help but feel a creeping sense of shame, like you’re betraying the version of yourself that you’ve always tried to be—strong, independent, unshakeable. And yet, here you are, feeling small and foolish because of a man’s mixed signals.

You’re used to being in control of your emotions, but this? This is new, uncharted territory, and you don’t know how to navigate it without crashing and burning. So, you do the only thing you can think of: you shut down. You sweep all those feelings under the rug, acting like nothing happened and doing your absolute best to avoid Joel as much as possible. Because if you can’t be the strong, composed woman you’ve always tried to be, you can at least be the one in control of this situation, even if it’s just on the surface.

“I don’t know, Dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice casual. “I’m not really feeling up to it today. Maybe you two could just watch it without me?”

He gives you a look, that ‘puppy lefton on the side of the road’ look he always uses to get you to do whatever he wants. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’ll be fun. Besides, you’ve been cooped up all week. You need a little excitement.”

Excitement is the opposite of what you need right now. Maybe a day of peace and quiet would fix every single issue in your life, but there’s no arguing with him, not when he’s already so excited about it. So, you force a smile and nod. “Alright, I’ll watch.”

But as soon as you hear Joel’s truck pull up in the driveway, that forced smile slips off your face. When he walks through the door, it takes every ounce of willpower not to roll your eyes. He’s all smiles, greeting your dad with a hearty handshake, but when his gaze lands on you, it’s different. There’s a flicker of something—concern, maybe something else—but you don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.

“Hey, kid,” he says, all casual-like, as if nothing ever happened.

“Joel,” you reply, your tone clipped, arms crossed as you turn back to the TV.

Your dad, oblivious as always, doesn’t notice the tension crackling in the air between you and Joel. He’s already settling into his recliner on your right, meaning Joel will have to sit to your left on the couch. You try to muster up the polite Southern girl your parents raised you to be, but your patience is thinning by the second, and you feel like a time bomb ticking away.

You do your best to ignore him. The game’s playing on the TV but your mind is far from focused on it. Your dad seems deep into it though, and for a second, you almost think Joel is, too. But then, out of nowhere, you feel his eyes on you.

“Didn’t think Presscott had it in him this season,” Joel says casually, trying to draw you in. His voice is low, familiar. He’s not even looking at you directly, just tossing the comment out there like he’s fishing for an easy reply.

You shrug without taking your eyes off the screen. “Guess we’ll see.”

The silence that follows isn’t comfortable, nothing like the ones you two have shared before. Even though you know you’re being short with him, you can’t stop yourself. It’s easier to keep things shallow, to avoid any real conversation, because if you let him in—if you let the words flow—the dam will break, and you’re not ready for that. Not here. Not with your dad in the room.

Joel doesn’t give up, though. “I remember last season your dad nearly threw the remote through the TV” he says, chuckling softly. “Thought he was gonna lose it when they botched that fourth-quarter drive.”

He’s trying to be light, trying to break the tension, but it grates on you. You force a laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah. Funny.”

You glance over at him, just briefly, and catch the way his brow furrows. It’s like he’s trying to gauge where you’re at, trying to figure out how to soften you up —the reason why he's so interested in doing so right now is beyond you. You can see the conflict there, the way he’s holding back—just like you are—but neither of you is willing to be the first to crack.

“How’s the um…” Joel starts again, voice softer now, “how’s the ankle? Healing alright?”

It’s such a simple question, but it feels like a loaded one. You swallow hard, the anger bubbling up in your chest. “Just peachy.” you say through gritted teeth, still not looking at him. “Let’s watch the game.”

Joel shifts beside you. You can feel him trying, can sense the struggle in him to connect in some way, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. Not after the week you’ve had, not after the way he’s been messing with your head.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you almost think he’s given up—until he tries again. “Look, I know we haven’t talked since—” he starts, but you cut him off with a sharp shake of your head.

“Drop it, Joel,” you mutter, so low your dad can’t hear. You still don’t meet his eyes. “Not now.”

Joel lets out a breath, and you feel the tension between you tighten, like a rope pulling tighter and tighter with every second that passes. He falls silent again, and for a while, the only sounds in the room are the commentators on the TV and your dad’s occasional cheers or groans at the game.

But it doesn’t feel over. The conversation, the tension, the unsaid words—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface, and you know it’s only a matter of time before something gives.

At halftime, your dad stands up to stretch his legs. You’re almost relieved when he breaks the silence, muttering something about his age. Joel laughs stiffly before replying with a quiet “Ditto.”

“I ran into Maryanne the other day, you know, the one from down the street. She was askin’ after you.” your dad says, grinning like it’s nothing. “Wanted to know if you ever got her message. You planning on callin’ her back?”

Joel hesitates, and you catch the slight shift in his posture from the corner of your eye. Your dad’s words hang in the air like a loaded gun, and suddenly, the room feels too small, too stifling.

Your stomach twists. Without thinking, you stand up abruptly, ignoring the sharp pang in your ankle as you do. “I need some air,” you mutter, voice clipped.

“Hey! Use the crutches kid, doctor said you still need ‘em.” Your dad calls after you.

“I’m fine dad, I’ll be out for just a second.” you don’t bother looking back as you make long strides towards the door.

You make it to the porch, the cool air doing little to calm the storm raging inside you. You lean against the railing, gripping it so hard your knuckles turn white. You’re furious—furious at him, at yourself, at this whole damn situation. How did you let it get this far? How did you let Joel Miller, of all people, get under your skin like this?

Minutes pass before you hear the door creak open behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is. You can feel his presence, heavy and familiar. He’s quiet as he steps out onto the porch, giving you a little space, like he knows better than to push his luck right now. You only hear him setting the crutches up against the railing, next to where you stand.

“You alright?” he asks, his voice rougher now, not as soft as it was earlier. There’s a wariness to it, like he’s testing the waters, unsure of how far he can go.

You don’t turn to look at him. “Let’s not do this.”

“Do what?”

“Acting like you care while I act like I don’t.”

He shifts behind you, and you can hear the hesitation in his breath before he responds. “I do.”

You huff out a bitter laugh. “Funny way of showing it.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you hate how the silence stretches between you, filling the space with all the things you’re not saying. Finally, he steps closer, but not too close—just enough that you can feel his presence at your back.

“I’m sorry for last week. It wasn’t right, I was… in a mood. Had nothing to do with you.” The lie is heavy on his lips, you can tell even though you haven’t known him long enough to figure out all his tells.

“Seems like it had a lot to do with me, couldn’t wait to get me out of there.” You’re being petty, you know. But he’s pushing you and you can only be patient for so long.

“Don't be like that…”

“So, how’s the whole gardening thing working out for you?” you press him, pumping the brattiness up a notch.

He stares at you, a glimmer of frustration rising in his eyes. “About as well as ignoring doctor’s orders to rest your ankle, I’d imagine.”

You narrow your eyes at him, resisting the urge to snap back. “I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he mutters, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You’re real good at takin’ care of yourself.”

Your jaw tightens, but you keep your voice steady. “I don’t need someone to babysit me.”

“That what you think I’m doin’?” He steps a little closer, his voice dropping lower, almost challenging. “Babysittin’?”

You look away, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to hold. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One minute you’re... I don’t even know, and the next you’re pushing me away.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his eyes on you. “Maybe I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing.”

“By keeping me at arms length?” you ask, finally turning to look at him again. There’s a vulnerability in your voice that you hate, but it slips out anyway.

“By not makin’ things harder than they need to be,” he says, his tone softening slightly, though there’s still a hint of frustration there.

You sigh, the fight draining out of you. “Yeah, well, it’s clearly not working out great.”

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with all the things neither of you is willing to say. But there’s a shift in the air, a slight easing of the tension that’s been coiling between you both.

“Look,” he says after a moment, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to… I just—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear whatever half-assed apology he’s about to offer. “We’re fine.”

He nods, though you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. “Yeah. We’re fine.”

You both stand there for a few more seconds, the conversation lingering in the air like smoke, not fully dissipating but not choking you either.

“Guess we should head back in,” you finally say, breaking the silence. Your voice is calmer now, the anger simmering down to a low burn.

“Yeah,” he agrees, stepping back to give you space. “We should.”

You turn to head inside—using your crutches this time— and for a brief moment, your shoulder brushes against his. The contact is brief, almost accidental, but it sends a jolt through you. Neither of you acknowledges it, but the feeling lingers as you walk back into the house.

As you settle back into the living room, there’s still an odd tension between you, something unspoken that neither of you wants to touch. The game is back on, and you both pretend to watch, but your thoughts are elsewhere, circling around everything that was just said—and everything that wasn’t.

It’s not perfect, and it’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s better than before. The air is clearer, if only slightly, and though the weird vibes linger, you both settle into a truce of sorts.

For now, it’ll have to be enough.

Tag list: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @untamedheart81 , @mellymbee , @wintersquirrel , @chyannealaniz , @spiderman-n-n, @ghostofzion , @sjc7542 , @yyiikes , @pedrofan

#joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #tlou joel #joel the last of us #hidden embers

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sm0lprism · 5 months

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Bite-Sized (9) - A G/t BG3 fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Summary: Astarion brings Ria along with him to the heart of the Goblin Camp without the rest of the group knowing. However, before they can even get inside, things take a very unfortunate turn. In other words, this is the beginning of Ria's VERY bad day.

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: MOUTHPLAY WARNING!!! If you are uncomfortable with mouthplay or vore-ish themes, then DO NOT read this chapter! No actual vore occurs but mouthplay is VERY prominent. Don't worry, Ria will be completely fine, I promise. Swearing/course language, mentions of blood drinking, vampire stuff.

Word count: 2.4k

The smell of burning meat and alcohol hit Astarion’s nostrils well before he had even stepped foot into the Goblin Camp. While he preferred more refined company, he did relish in the chaos that goblins often brought with them – and it was clearly abundant in the stronghold of the camp as he followed behind Gale, Wyll, and Karlach. Lae’zel and Shadowheart had reluctantly been nominated to look after the camp while the others were away, much to both the half elf’s and gith’s dismay. He wondered if they would kill each other while he and the others were gone.

His stomach grumbled as dozens of goblins flitted around a roasting spit, cooking what smelled like dwarf meat, as they downed pints of alcohol. Seeing this many exposed necks and pulses made the never-ending ache in his stomach worsen. Soon enough he would be able to feed – thanks to Ria persuading the group, he could drink all the goblins dry if he wished once they were done with the leaders.

Ah, yes, the little snack in my pocket…

He was so swept up in the moment that he almost forgot about the tiny passenger that he was carrying. She hadn’t stirred since they had left camp and he wondered if she had in fact fallen asleep. Her small heartbeat had slowed down considerably as well.

His hand hovered over his breast pocket where Ria was concealed inside, and he gave the pocket a little tap to alert her that they had arrived. Almost immediately the borrower inside began to stir, her tiny heartbeat increasing as he felt her squirm against his chest.

Scanning the area, he noticed that everyone else had gathered towards the centre of the camp. Karlach, Gale, and Wyll were standing near a small stage where Volo, a poor bard that he and the others had met in the Emerald Grove some time ago, was performing some terrible rendition of Dror Ragzlin. They seemed completely enthralled by Volo’s presentation as they didn’t even bat an eyelid towards Astarion’s direction.

“Oi! You smell funny, mister.”

Astarion blinked and swiftly turned his gaze downwards to see a female goblin standing directly in front of him.

“How polite of you to say,” Astarion sneered, sharpening his gaze at the little goblin. “And you smell utterly dreadful. Is that all you wanted to say to me or can I be on my way?”

The goblin chose to ignore his statement and instead took a deep inhale of air through her nose. Her eyes grew as big as saucers as she inhaled and she stared at him intently.

Shit. She can smell Ria.

“There’s something in your pocket, isn’t there?” The goblin said, folding her arms across her chest. “I can’t quite make it out, but it’s different to whatever poxy perfume you have on, and the smell of blood in yer mouth.”

“That’s not for you to know,” Astarion hissed, flashing his fangs at the goblin. “Why don’t you mind your own business. Unless you want my fangs to meet that green neck of yours, you best move along.”

The female goblin nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing Astarion’s perfectly white fangs flash in the sunlight and she immediately backed away from him.

“S-shit, sorry!” she exclaimed, panic evident in her voice. “I didn’t think a blooming blood-sucker could walk in the sun…you must be some freak or somethin’.” The goblin quickly scampered off, not daring to look behind her as she vanished into the hazy crowd.

The sudden outburst seemed to garner some attention as a few goblins had stopped what they were doing and eyed him up curiously. There was no doubt that they could also partially smell Ria’s scent to some extent, too. It seemed that his own scent wasn’t quite enough to mask the borrowers unfortunately. If any of the goblins stopped to really smell him, then he would be in trouble.

He had to get out of there. And fast.

Astarion wasted no time in melding into the shadows, something that came very naturally to him as a vampire spawn, and quickly vanished from sight. Ria was still safe inside his pocket for now, but he knew if the goblins were made aware of a borrower in their midst, it could end very badly for her. Perhaps it would be a good idea if they could mask her scent somehow. He snuck behind a large stone pillar, now out of sight from the masses of goblins and his own companions.

“Astarion?” Ria’s small voice chimed from inside his pocket.

He opened the lip of the pocket and glanced downwards at the tiny passenger he was carrying. He would never say it aloud, but as her little face stared up at him, he couldn’t help but to admit she did look rather cute. She was so tiny, so vulnerable, so fragile – it would be so easy for her to become injured if he wasn’t careful.

Not that he cared if she got hurt. She was just a borrower after all, nothing more.

So…why was he feeling a sudden urge of protectiveness when he looked at her?

He shook his head, dismissing the thought from his brain.

“Are you just going to stare at me or will you tell me what’s going on?” Ria asked, bringing Astarion back to the present.

He blinked and flashed her a grin. “Well, I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to disguise your scent, darling.”

Ria’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh…right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that…” Her voice trailed off as her brain tried to think of a solution. “Maybe I should’ve thought about that before we left.”

“Perhaps that would’ve been a good idea,” Astarion commented. “It’s just fortunate that the goblin from earlier didn’t press me further. I thought my scent would be enough to mask yours, but it seems that you just smell so…” He paused as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

Appetising. That’s what he was going to say, but he held his tongue. He knew that teasing her like this when she was only just starting to trust him a little was a bad move, especially after she had asked him not to call her things like that from now on. Still, he couldn’t deny that she did smell delicious. Even with the masses of goblins around him – who significantly had plentiful more blood – her blood sung to him the loudest out of everyone there.

“So…what?” Ria said, her tiny brow furrowed as she craned her neck up at him.

“Never mind,” Astarion chuckled lightly, attempting to shake the growing thoughts of hunger out of his brain. “Well, you know what I mean, anyway. I’m sure you heard the conversation with the goblin. We really do need to hide your scent somehow.”

“You do have a point.” Ria pursued her lips in thought. “I need to have a better look at what’s going on outside.”

He watched the borrower as she wriggled around until her tiny head just barely managed to peak out from the lip of the pocket. He imagined she must’ve been standing on tip toes just to reach that high.

Ria’s gaze searched the Goblin Camp, concentration hardened her facial features as she tried to think of what to do. After a few moments, her eyes finally settled on a large tub where some goblins were collecting alcohol from.

“That’s it!” Ria exclaimed, pointing towards the tub full of booze on the other side of the camp.

Astarion glanced down at the borrower and then his gaze flicked to the giant tub of booze she was pointing at. Multiple goblins were walking up to the tub to take a swig of alcohol in large mugs, some of them downing their drinks as if it were only water.

“Hm, the pungent alcohol would most certainly cover up your scent,” Astarion said. “But getting you in the alcohol, however, seems like a risky move. Are you sure about this?”

“You’re a rogue! Use some of that dexterity of yours!” She flashed him a small smirk. “Just dip me in the booze quickly and then I’ll be out in a second. I’m sure a vampire spawn can handle that.”

Astarion arched an eyebrow, wondering just where the sudden burst of confidence that she had was coming from. Not long ago she had been deathly afraid of letting him hold her, now she was placing even more of her trust in him to pull off a stunt that could backfire badly if he didn’t do it carefully. Still, he wasn’t going to let a borrower downplay him like that.

“If you insist,” he replied. “And I suggest we do it quickly. We really don’t want to attract any more attention to ourselves.”

Ria gave him a small nod in reply before she vanished into the inside of his pocket again to conceal herself. With their new goal in the forefront of his mind, he clung to the shadows of the camp to pass by unseen until he reached the large tub. Very swiftly he reached into his shirt pocket and plucked Ria in between his index finger and thumb and leaned towards the large tub of booze.

“Do it!” Ria whispered fiercely.

Before Astarion could do anything, a strong force collided into the back of his legs, causing Ria to fall out of his fingers as he was knocked forwards. All he could do was watch as the little borrower fell out of his grasp, followed by a small plop as she disappeared into the liquid.

Shit!

Seething with anger, he whipped his neck around to see who the culprit was and his gaze fell on a goblin who looked like they were on the verge of passing out.

“Oh man, I could go for another-HIC!” The goblin spluttered, the smell of beer radiating from his mouth as he wobbled around to gain his footing before passing out on the floor.

Astarion rolled his eyes and hastily returned his attention back to Ria, who was now, quite literally, swimming in the tub of alcohol.

“Hey, you’re holding up the line!” A raspy voice hissed to his left, and he noticed yet another goblin standing close to him. “Hurry up and grab a drink, we all want some!”

Growing somewhat stressed now, Astarion snatched up a nearby cup before returning his attention back to the tub. Ria had fortunately resurfaced, looking rather dishevelled and shaken up, but otherwise she was alright. He wasted no time and scooped her into his cup, keeping it close to his chest as he attempted to sneak away from the masses of goblins that were starting to cluster around them.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” The same goblin with the raspy voice from earlier tugged on his armour, stopping him in his tracks.

Astarion immediately grimaced.

This can’t be good.

“Don’t mind me,” Astarion replied through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to turn invisible. “I’m just passing through.”

“Not without having a drink you’re not!” The goblin persisted, clearly somewhat drunk, and clung on stubbornly to his light armour. “You look as pale as a bloody ghost. I’m not letting you go until you’ve drunk every drop from your cup!”

The commotion had now brought even more attention to him, as Astarion quickly realised that multiple sets of eyes were glued to his frame and watching his every move. No matter how he looked at it, there was no getting out of this.

He tentatively gazed down into his cup, and saw Ria’s little face staring up at him with pleading eyes. She could obviously hear everything that was going on, and judging by the petrified look that was painted across her face, she knew exactly what he was going to do.

“Go on!” The goblin pulled on his armour once more, and Astarion had to restrain himself from biting the creature’s head off with how hard they pulled at the fine fabric. “You could do with some colour in your cheeks.”

He pulled his lip into a thin line as his gaze flicked back down to where Ria was sitting in his cup. All the colour had drained from her face as she stared at him with watery eyes, she looked as if she had been crying. Knots twisted in his stomach as he felt a wave of dread wash over him as he tried to rack his brain to think of an alternative. If he pretended to drink, there would be the chance of Ria falling out of the cup and to her death, which he wasn’t going to risk.

The only other option was to drink.

He gave her a wink before mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry,’ silently to her, and her eyes widened in response as he brought the cup towards his lips. The beer hit his tongue and he immediately had to force himself not to spit out the liquid as he took a forceful gulp. He had never been one for beer, wine, on the other hand, or better yet, blood, was more to his liking, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter. His attention on the beverage was soon replaced as he felt something soft and warm press up against his lips.

Ria.

Her tiny hands were pushing against his lips, her body squirming as gravity pushed her rather forcefully towards his mouth. He was very careful not to swallow her, and rather gingerly he used the tip of his tongue to push her tiny body away from the inside of his mouth so that she wouldn’t fall in.

He pulled the cup away from his lips and glanced downwards at the goblin. The goblin was still stubbornly standing beside him with narrowed eyes, very clearly not impressed with his half empty cup.

“I said drink all of it you elf pansy!” The goblin exclaimed. “That was merely a sip! Come on, you aren’t leaving until all of that is completely gone, and I’m going to look at your cup afterwards, so make sure you guzzle it all down!”

Oh dear.

If the goblin was going to investigate his cup afterwards, he had to ensure that it was completely empty.

Ria wasn’t going to like this.

Very slowly the cup was brought to his mouth once more, and this time he took a hungrier gulp than before. He could smell the overwhelming fear from Ria as she was once again pressed against his mouth, her tiny hands scrambling across his lips, and this time, he didn’t stop her from falling inside. With a final gulp, the borrower disappeared into his mouth and he sealed his jaws shut.

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mara-and-its-the-same · 2 years

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Room 217

Steve and his girlfriend just having a lovely moment in a hotel. Lots of banter, lots of teasing, every old woman wants Steve to propose, like yesterday, and John Mellencamp. CWs: No y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns and there are no descriptions besides wet hair. Old ladies being weird, mentions of skiing and they have a dog. Some references to the shining as well, also I've never been to colorado so if i get the 2 things I said about it wrong you have my endless apologies. If I missed anything, let me know and I'll add it here, also if you're any kind if enby and you would rather this with any other pronouns, as a fellow gender blender demifemme feels right atm, I'm more than happy to oblige and repost with whatever you'd prefer.

March, 1992

Steve thought he’d pay a visit to the nice ladies in the mailroom that afternoon after work, he’d been having a pretty good day so far, why not share the joy? “Hello, ladies. How’s today been treatin’ you two?” he asked them over the counter.

“Not too busy, thank you for asking. Always so charming isn’t he?” Mrs. Smith asked Mrs. Lowe, both their white hairs deflating by now from the curled, permed coifs they shaped and gelled and sprayed every morning.

“Oh yes, oh, and Steve, we saw your girl this morning. Looking lovely as ever.”

“Mhm, we saw her, but no ring.” Mrs. Smith reminded him again, twisting her own 2 carat diamond around her finger. Just 2 weeks ago she told him the whole story about it, how Mr. Smith scrimped and saved for ages to afford it, including selling his favorite tractor, to which they both side eyed his BMW through the window.

“Oh, Deirdre, didn’t you see her with a ring catalog this morning?” Mrs. Lowe asked her, both of them poorly hiding their schemes.

“I do think I did. I’d take notice of these things if I were you, Steve. How long have you been together again?”

“I’ve known her for 9 years, we’ve been together for 5, Mrs. Smith.” He wasn’t hurt by them asking again, in fact he expected it, as much as his tone expressed it. “And yes, I do notice, which is why I’ve been coming home so late these last few days, I need a bit more than 30 hours a week to afford this place and a ring.”

He saw the sneaky smiles on their faces as they wheeled around in their office chairs to get his mail. A few deliveries and a blush colored envelope with a floral postage stamp in the corner, a wax seal on the front. “Ooh, a wedding invitation?” Mrs. Lowe teased.

Steve nodded as he read the return address, “Looks like it’s from her cousin.” He checked his wrist watch and realized his girlfriend must have been expecting him, “I better be going, don’t want to be late for dinner.”

“Oh, you two going out?”

“No, staying in tonight, making risotto.”

Mrs. Smith gasped, “My recipe?”

“I think so.”

“Oh you watch out for that one, Steve, I used that recipe once and 9 months later I had Joey and Hannah,” Mrs. Lowe added.

Steve huffed a laugh. “You are bad.”

“Watch it Harrington.” “It’s very easy for mail to get lost down here.” “Packages stolen,” they joked back before waving him upstairs and calling for him to send their hellos to his girl.

“Hey, gorgeous, where you at?” He finally got to the fifth floor and held the door open with his foot while he took the keys out of the knob. “We got a fuck ton of mail.”

But he didn’t see any sign of her or their dog, Leo, a big black lab, anywhere. “Babe?” He walked further into the kitchen of their cramped apartment. Leo’s leash was gone too, but there was a scratchy note left on the counter, probably left in a rush accounting for the scribbly handwriting.

Hello my love, I hope you had a wonderful day. I was going to wait for you but Leo got antsy so I’m taking him for a walk. We’ll be back by 6:30 I promise —xoxo

It was already 6:25, and by the time he was worried enough to grab his sweatshirt and go out to look for her, there was already an incessant scratching at the door and a giggle of ‘I’m trying, I’m trying. Relax buddy, I gotta get my keys.’

It clearly sounded like a struggle, Steve assumed her keys must have been deeper in her pocket than she remembered. He could have waited and let her unlock the door herself, but the excitement to see her was too much to bear. Also because he didn’t want any complaints from the landlord about scratched paint on the door.

He heard her surprised little gasp when the handle turned from the other side, ‘Is Stevie home?’ He heard Leo make some sound like E.T. would have made in response, as well as the slamming of his tail on her leg.

“It’s 6:30.”

“What? No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you my beautiful, gorgeous, angel of a darling? Every hour in your absence has been agony.’ And here I was, thinking you were such a romantic.” She hung the leash up while Leo was shoving himself against Steve’s leg to get more attention and pets. She was about to walk out of the teeny tiny foyer after taking her shoes off but Steve caught her by the arm before she got the chance. Leo got out of the way while he pulled her shoulder into his chest, both hands on the other one furthest from him.

“Hello,” and she expected his usual schtick of saying everything she said back to her, a little teasing but she could always hear the truth underneath. “My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

“Steve,” she groaned and pushed him off of her and into the coats, “You’re supposed to love me, not kill me. I don’t even have six fingers on my right hand.” She got louder as she walked further away, “And besides, you’re much more of a Westley anyway.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“How so? Wait, farm boy Westley or Pirate Westley?”

“Oh, Pirate Westley, definitely.”

He silently shooed her out of the kitchen and fed Leo before washing his hands and starting on their own dinner while she explained.

“I don’t know, you just love too much to be an Inigo, too smart to be him, also you know I love you but you have like zero loyalty to your father and you shouldn’t anyway, so definitely a Westley.”

“Like I’d carry you through the fire swamp and everything?”

“And everything.” Leo laid at her feet while she went through the mail on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions that were probably older than her since it was a hand-me-down from Hopper when he moved in with Joyce at the same time they moved into their apartment. A sparkling seal caught her eye. “A wedding invitation?”

“I was waiting for you to open it, I think it’s from your cousin.”

“Hm. Mr. Joseph and Mrs. Deanna Sampson cordially invite you to a renewal of their vows, the 12th of December, 1992, Colorado Springs, Colorado. It’s at a hotel, like the Shining.”

“Oh that cousin?” The renewal of vows is what caught his attention. “Must be a small venue then.”

“Not funny, Steven,” she didn’t take her eyes off her lap where she flipped through the details of the invitation but the slight quirk of her lip that Steve was always able to clock betrayed her amusement. A wedding with ample opportunity for skiing, her cousin’s husband, and now by extension her cousin, are kind of rich, at least his family is, so they're renting the biggest, nicest, fanciest lodge for the day and having the wedding and reception there. “I’d totally have a small wedding first with just the people I want there then a bigger one for all the people that are mad they didn’t make the cut.”

“Who’d be at this wedding? The small one.”

“Dustin, Eddie, Robin, the kids, Joyce and Hopper, and maybe my parents, I haven't decided.”

He knew he was pushing his luck asking this, but the ladies of the mail room planted a strong idea in his head and he just couldn’t let it go. “I’m not there?” but he stayed facing the near boiling pot.

“I thought you were a given,” She said so casually. Only looking at him when the clatter of the spoon falling on the floor pulled her attention his way. They’d discussed it before, in passing mostly. Saying a marriage and a family is something they both want, but he’d never heard her say it like that. Like marrying him is the only option she’d ever choose. Like he’s always going to be the obvious choice. “So we’re going?”

“Hm?”

“To the wedding?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Deanna’s the best.”

December, 1992

They arrived two days before the wedding, Steve wanted to get more use out of his skis. She liked them because the bottoms were bright pink and she could find him anywhere. Checking in was a bear though. The mailroom part 2 for him since y/n was at a payphone to check in with Dustin about Leo.

“How can I help you, sir?” The woman who looked to be around Joyce’s age asked.

“Uh, I’d like to check in, please. Should be under Harrington.”

She scrolled through the system to find it, “Oh yes, you’re here for the wedding? Bride or groom?”

“Bride, she’s cousins with my-”

“You’re wife? I’ll get you an extra key then, one for both of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay, room 217.”

“Thank you.”

***

“God, I’m exhausted.” Y/n threw herself down on the bed, wet hair and all. Everything about this room was so much bigger than their apartment. The bed, the bathtub; the kitchen was smaller though, but there was a much bigger space as a sort of living room. The fake fire was going and the tv above it was stuck on one of those MTV channels, the ones that only play music with slideshows of various album covers, because they couldn’t figure out the remote. She called the lobby about it and found Steve must have made quite an impression in the few days they’ve been there. “Hi, we’re in room 217, our remote kind of broke and it’s stuck on one channel.” “217, hmm… Oh you must be Steve’s wife, he’s quite the charmer down here.” “He usually is. Um, is there anyone who can help us with this?” “Unfortunately not at the moment, but we can send someone up first thing in the morning, just give us a ring and we’ll send maintenance right up there.” “Will do, thank you.” “Mhm, have a lovely night Mrs. Harrington.” “You as well.”

Steve came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam surrounding him and a fluffy, white towel around his hips. “Steve?”

“Hm?” But his main focus was on digging through his drawers for pajamas.

“Have you been telling everyone in the lobby I’m your wife?”

He quickly straightened with his sweatpants clutched tight to his chest. “No-uh…no. They just assumed and, y’know like, who’d pass up a chance to have such a total knockout babe for a wife, right? So I just-didn’t correct them.”

“Mhm,” the look in her eyes feigned skepticism, but she really didn’t mind, she thought it was cute. “Can’t flirt your way out of this one, Harrington.”

“No flirting, just truthing.” He knew even that wouldn’t save him from his fate, her thinking he’s such a dork and then most likely going home to tell Robin all about it. He needed to think fast before she rolled over on the bed and picked up the phone to dial Robin’s number, he thought he could see her fingers already twitching in its direction. The song changed and while the intro played and he rushed to get dressed, inspiration struck. He held his hand out for her hoping she’d get the hint.

“What?”

“Come dance with me.”

“This is hardly a danceable song,” she swung her legs over the side.

“It’s John Mellencamp, of course it’s danceable.” Steve pulled her up by the hand even though she was already going to walk over.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Sh, sh, sh, let me listen.” He held their joined hands in the air, her left in his right, and his other was on her waist, swaying side to side and rotating around in a circle.

“You dance like such a dad,” she half whispered, half giggled.

“I’m a great dancer.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“Could you listen to the song please, they’re like us,” and he started mouthing the words out with his breath.

A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane; Two American kids growing up in the heart land

“Steve, we’re from Indiana.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s not the heartland.”

“I’m pretty sure the heartland is all of the midwest.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Jack, he's gonna be a football star; Diane's debutante, backseat of Jacky's car

“You played basketball and swam, those are like the furthest things from football.”

“You’re really draining all the fun out of this,” but she could feel the rumbles of his laugh with her ear pressed to his sternum.

“And I’m not a debutante and we’ve never done anything in the back of your car.”

“The point that you’re purposely missing is that they’re in love.”

“I know they’re in love, but I’m in love-er with you.”

“Is that the right way to say that? Not ‘more in love?’”

“Well now look who’s being willingly obtuse.”

“I’m not obtuse, you’re obtuse.”

“I’m not obtuse, I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” He rested his head on top of hers, his eyes stuck on her bare fingers. “But those things can coexist.”

“Steve!”

This was not a request but I thought of it at work because all we listen to is fm radio and everyday John Tesh makes me want to strangle myself with receipt paper. But I had the idea and I thought it was cute, and as always, it got way out of hand. So here, have my first complete Steve Harrington one shot <3

Tagging some babes because I love you and I want to annoy you all @beezywriting @haydipoof @sw34terw34ther @esperisdrunkinwonderland @avipoof @loving-and-dreaming @katsu28 @manyfandomsfanvergent and if i think of anyone else and they don't get to this before I get to them <3

#Definitely did not choose that gif solely for its bbg qualities #pfft that'd be ridiculous #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #harrington #steve harrington x fem #Steve harrington fluff #ever have that moment when you look at a word so much it looks wrong #I just had a crisis thinking I spelt harrington wrong #steve stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things one shot #stranger things fluff #Dell's fics

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fictionkinfessions · 4 months

Note

Hah! Here I am to talk about myself again!

I was absolutely a transman (I am now too!)

It really did hurt that I, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, was thought of as malicious and manipulative when I never asked for the miracle to begin with.

Delores my sweet sweet sister was so kind to me. She would knock on the walls to let me know ow she was there when she could hear me. She would leave fresh Concha out for me that my other sister, Julieta made. This was usually because I was a bit malnourished in the wall. Of course Delores never told her that they were for me- and I appreciate that.

I can’t and don’t blame the younger kids- hate breeds hate and it’s all they knew about me from what parents and the village said.

So! Let’s break down that fucking song!

“Bruno says, "It looks like rain"

Why did he tell us?

In doing so, he floods my brain”

So first of all that was just me commenting on how nervous she looked because I have no damn pain to mouth filter. Nothing “mischievous” just adhd.

“Grew to live in fear of Bruno stuttering or stumbling.I could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling. I associate him with the sound of falling sand, ch-ch-ch. It's a heavy lift, with a gift so humbling. Always left Abuela and the family fumbling. Grappling with prophecies they couldn't understand”

So not canon for me the first part- she never feared me. At least not that she said? The rest is very accurate, and she’s really the only one who I see the affects on me.

“A seven-foot frame.Rats along his back.When he calls your name.It all fades to black. Yeah, he sees your dreams.And feasts on your screams”

Couple things here. 1) I was 5 foot 8. 2) I like how they mention the rats I kept as pets because I couldn’t stand the idea of them being killed for just being rats, then in the next breath say I feast on screams.

He told me my fish would dieThe next day: dead! (No, no!)He told me I'd grow a gut!And just like he said... (no, no!)He said that all my hair would disappear, now look at my head

1) that fish was in a tiny bowl and was over fed. No prophecy just observation. 2) He was a binge eater, again just an observation. 3) every man in his family was bald so…

He told me that the life of my dreams would be promised, and someday be mine He told me that my power would grow, like the grapes that thrive on the vine

She was 5! And this one isn’t even bad!

He told me that the man of my dreams would be just out of reach. Betrothed to another

Not canon for me she was a lesbian

That’s it for now! -Bruno Madrigal 🐀🪇

klp

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #brunomadrigalkin #encantokin #prevabuse #child abuse cw #fandom issue #canoning issue #food cw #starvation cw #rats cw #mod party cat

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run-me-through-but-not-like-that · 2 years

Text

Here Be Sirens Part 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Read Here or on Ao3:

“What happened?” your question rang in your own ears.

It was simple really, the answer. You could put the pieces together if your mind would focus on anything but the sight of Israel, on the deck of the Revenge, caught up in a sturdy fishing net.

“Buttons caught a siren!” Black Pete announced. Yeah, that seemed to be the case.

“A mistake really. I think he got caught up in the fishing net,” Buttons admitted, once again seeming less fazed than the rest of the crew.

“When did we get a fishing net?” the Swede asked, inching a little closer to the trapped siren.

“When you all started needing to be fed,” Roach rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. He didn’t look away from the siren once, eyeing him up.

“I don’t think that’s the important part,” Jim sighed, shifting their weight onto their other foot.

“Jim is right…” Stede nodded, getting everyone's attention on him. Like everyone suddenly remembered that he was in charge.

“So, what are we to do with it, captain?” Wee John asked.

The captain floundered for a moment before looking to his first mate. “Well…Buttons, what would you suggest?”

“The only option seems to be to kill him,” Buttons stated, like it was nothing. Israel’s thrashing started up again, still hissing and baring his teeth at the crew.

“No!” You looked around to see who shouted before you realised that it was you, and everyone was looking at you. You cleared your throat, fumbling for other words. “I mean, you said he got caught up in the net. It was a mistake, he wasn’t trying to hurt us,” you reasoned.

“He could come back with more, take his revenge,” Frenchie worried. A sensible concern really, you felt a little bad for arguing the matter, but you were more informed on this specific case.

“Aye, that is why he must be dealt with,” Buttons agreed.

“There’s no other way?” you asked.

“We could cut his vocal cords but other sirens will figure it out soon enough,” Buttons nodded and the threat made Israel’s face drop with fear and sorrow, fighting against the netting harder. Unfortunately, the more he fought, the more caught up in it he got.

“No, we aren’t doing that,” you told them firmly, not even letting them entertain the option.

Everyone was looking at you again. You didn’t think you could keep the secret much longer.

“What do you suggest?” Stede asked, open to ideas.

“...let him go?” you suggested, weakly, already knowing they wouldn’t go for it.

“You know I don’t like resorting to violence but…Buttons says it’s our only option,” Stede appreciated your empathy, respected it, but he had to protect his ship and crew. In all fairness, this siren could be a threat to all of you.

“You’re not killing him, and you’re not maiming him either,” you put your foot down.

“Are you alright?” Lucius shuffled closer, placing a hand against your shoulder. “I don’t like it either but-”

“No,” you responded, firmly, not letting him finish. “No, you are not killing him.”

The weight of everyone staring was heavy, made you feel like you were drowning all over again. They appeared a little concerned, but mostly they were confused. You looked between them all, racking your brain for something to do, something to say. Your gaze turned to Israel, snarling and growling, but so clearly afraid. More vulnerable than when you had met him that first night, you just couldn’t let anything happen to him.

You took a breath, knowing you had no other option. “...I know him, he isn’t going to hurt any of you.”

“You…know him? The siren?” Lucius questioned, unsure if he had heard you right, wondering if you had hit your head at some point.

“Yes, I know him. I promise, he’s not a threat, as long as you don’t threaten him,” you needed to convince them.

“Pretty sure that ship has sailed,” Jim rolled their eyes.

“Please, please just trust me,” you pleaded with the crew, stepping out of the semi circle.

“You’re under a spell!” Frenchie accused, eyes wide with fear and worry.

“No, I’m not,” you insisted, reminding them that, “Buttons protected the ship, right? Sirens’ songs don’t work.”

As if he hadn’t been listening to a word anyone was saying, the Swede inched ever so slightly closer to the netted siren, poking his tail with a stick. God knows where he even found that.

“Stop that!” you huffed, finally pushing forward into the centre of the semicircle. You batted the Swede away, knocking the stick from his hand, before moving to Israel’s side. “You’re not touching him, okay?” your words came like a warning, only softening when you turned to face the siren, “I’m not going to let them touch you, I promise.”

Israel looked up at you consideringly before he began thrashing about again. “Israel, stop thrashing. You’re going to hurt yourself,” you dropped to your knees by his side, hovering your hands over him, willing him to calm down.

“They have to go through me first, yeah?” you promised him. “Plus, I made somebody a promise that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, remember? I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The siren didn’t take his eyes off of you, giving you a single small nod. Your hands shook as you carefully got to work untangling him from the fishing net, unsheathing your knife when you realised just how tangled up the thing was. You took out the blade slowly, making sure Israel didn’t feel threatened by it.

“Don’t cut him loose!” Frenchie yelped, clinging to Wee John’s arm.

“He won’t attack anyone,” you promised, only glancing over at Frenchie as you continued to work.

“Your funeral,” Roach shrugged, pretty confident he could fight the siren off if their songs didn’t work here.

You focused fully on the netting then. Untangling and cutting through it, ignoring the complaints about ruining the net, you were even sure who had made them. You were a little preoccupied.

You could see where the netting had dug into his skin as he fought against it, one of his wrists being wrapped up and rubbed raw with his frantic struggling.

“You’re going to be okay, I promise,” you whispered to him, hoping he knew that you would do whatever it took to get him back into the water safely. You saw his expression soften, though his body remained tense. His situation hadn’t changed, but he trusted you.

You gave Izzy a small smile before standing up and turning back to the crew. “Please trust me, everything is going to be fine, I’ll explain everything. Just…just trust me,” you knew you could get them to understand eventually, it was gaining their trust in this moment that would be difficult.

As you expected, the crew still looked unsure, looking between each other.

“They seem like they know what they’re talking about,” Jim shrugged. You could kiss them. The crew knew Jim was reasonable about most things, maybe they could convince them.

“You’re sure about this?” Lucius asked. He looked like he wanted to move towards you, but didn’t want to get any closer to the creature at your feet.

“I am,” you nodded, sounding certain.

Lucius shared a look with Pete. Whatever their silent conversation was, it must have been good. “Alright, okay,” Lucius looked back to you and Pete nodded hesitantly, taking hold of Lucius’ hand.

You turned to Frenchie with a sympathetic look. “Frenchie, I promise you, this is okay. Nobody’s going to get hurt.”

“You promise?” Frenchie asked. Wee John looked concerned too.

“I promise.”

“Okay,” Frenchie reluctantly agreed and it meant a lot that he trusted you with this.

“Captain?” you turned to Stede this time.

Stede blinked at you.

“Uh, well…Buttons?” he looked to his first mate.

Buttons stared at you blankly, his expression giving away nothing. “Give ‘em a chance,” he nodded, apparently pleased with whatever he saw in you.

“Very well, then,” Stede nodded, allowing you to do this way.

Feeling a little calmer now, you turned back to Israel and crouched by his side. You let out a small sigh, he was still watching you closely. “Hey, Iz, the crew are going to want to talk, do you think you could, uh…do the leg thing?” you waved your hand vaguely, not exactly sure what ‘the leg thing’ consisted of. You were unconscious when you last saw him with legs.

“I have no clothes,” Izzy muttered. Right, clothes aren’t part of the transformation, that made sense.

“Stede, uh…could we maybe borrow a shirt and a pair of pants?” you asked.

“I suppose,” Stede nodded, seeming a little confused, and in way over his head. Still, he hurried off to his cabin.

“Nothing flashy!” you called after him. “Neutral tones!” You didn’t want Izzy being more uncomfortable than he already was.

While waiting for Stede to bring the clothes, the crew watched as you finished removing the last of the netting from his body, pushing it far to the side. They watched as you whispered to him, calming reassurances that they couldn’t hear, they could only make out the tone. Soft, caring, loving even. The siren was clearly responding to your soothing, relaxing. He didn’t snarl or hiss at you, he didn’t even glare at you.

Soon enough, Stede returned with some clothes, handing them to you. You placed the clothes down on the deck and stood up again. “Alright, everyone off deck, give the man some privacy,” you ordered. They all looked between each other again, unsure. “He won’t leave until we’ve talked. We’ll meet you in the galley, okay?”

The crew reluctantly agreed and slowly began to file down below decks. Buttons look at you for a moment before nodding, leaving with the rest of the crew.

“Iz, I’m so sorry about all of this,” you apologised, about to face him again before changing your mind. “I’ll, uh, give you a minute,” you kept your back to him, letting him change and pull on the clothes. However, that worked.

“Okay,” Izzy mumbled, giving you the signal it was okay.

You turned back to him, looking him up and down. He looked adorable in beige breeches that were too long for him and had to be cuffed at the ends. The white shirt too big and billowing on him, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“I’ve got you, okay? I won’t let them do anything, they just need me to explain everything.” You had trusted him about Edward, now he had to trust you about the crew.

“...I trust you,” Izzy nodded, just that nearly knocking the breath out of you. You knew how much that meant.

You cautiously took his hand and he let you, fingers laced together, before you led him down to the galley.

The sound of chatter fell silent as the two of you entered the galley. Everyone was sat at the table you took meals at, just watching.

“I’m just going to get something for your wrist,” you assured Israel quietly as you sat him down at the end of the table.

You were quick to grab a towel and some clean water before returning. Reaching the table again, the crew was watching Izzy like he might pounce at any moment. Izzy was watching them in a very similar way.

You sat down beside Israel, close enough that your knees touched. He made no protest as you took his arm and examined his wrist, cleaning the wound with your damp cloth. “Not as deep as I thought it was,” you muttered to yourself before wrapping the towel around his wrist and securing it for the time being.

The crew watched and stared but thankfully didn’t comment. The trashing and snarling creature they had surrounded up on the deck now looked like nothing more than a man. His hair wet and dripping, clothes damper than they should have been, letting you tend to his injury.

“I could look at that for you,” Roach offered. Israel instantly tenses, sinking into your side.

“I’ve got it, Roach. Thank you,” you gave him a tense smile. There was no way Izzy was going to let any of the crew near him, nevermind touch him. “You okay?” you asked the siren quietly. He just nodded.

You sighed, releasing his arm and letting him fold his hands in his lap, before you looked at the crew properly. “Alright…go on,” you gave them permission to ask their questions.

Everyone looked to Stede for some semblance of guidance. He was the captain after all. “Well, I suppose we could start with a name?” Stede suggested.

You looked to Izzy, letting him choose how they referred to him. You had already used his name in front of them but if he wanted to give a fake one, you would go along with it.

“Israel,” he bit out.

“Israel,” Stede repeated with a small nod, trying his best to act like this was normal. “And how about we start from the beginning then,” he seemed to have gained a little confidence in his questioning.

“I was on watch one night and I heard singing-”

“He put you under a spell!” Frenchie interrupted.

“No!” you huffed, even if it was a fair accusation. “He was trying to, I guess, but it didn’t work because of the protection charm or whatever that Buttons put on the ship. So, I went to see who was singing and he was just sitting on the railing,” you told them.

“And you became friends?” the Swede asked with an innocence you found weirdly endearing about the man.

“Uh, long story short, yeah,” you nodded. “I started taking the night shifts so I could take a dinghy out, meet with him. Just hang out for a bit, you know?”

“The storm?” Jim asked knowingly, putting the pieces together themself.

“He saved my life,” you confirmed. “The storm…I didn’t wash up on a beach, there were no fishermen. Israel saved me, fished me out of the water, took me somewhere safe and helped me get back to the ship. He wouldn’t do that if he only planned on killing me at some point,” you told them the truth.

“Well, uh…thank you, Israel, for bringing them back to us,” Stede’s politeness seemed to overcome his nerves.

“And then everything went back to normal. Meetings of a night and everything. He’s not planning to hurt any of you,” you shrugged. It really was the vaguest way to tell the story but it was all they needed to know. Israel found himself grateful that you didn’t mention Edward, worrying that would only cause more trouble.

Everyone looked to Buttons this time. “I believe them,” he nodded after a short but tense silence, “I had my suspicions since that first night.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” you stared at him with wide eyes. That was something you’d think he’d mention, at least question you about it.

“I was waiting to see if I was right,” Buttons shrugged, like it made perfect sense.

“And you still talked about killing him?!” you accused, anger rising. Izzy felt a tingling sensation run down his spine at your blatant protectiveness.

“I didn’t know if I was right, and I didn’t know if this was the same siren,” Buttons explained.

“...but you’re not going to hurt him now, right?” you asked cautiously.

“As long as he doesn’t hurt us,” Buttons assured you.

“Okay, good,” you nodded.

“It is rare for sirens to become attached to a human. There are tales, of course, but-” Buttons was cut off by Izzy’s growl. Just because he didn’t have a tail in that moment didn’t mean he couldn’t tear a throat out, didn’t mean the crew didn’t know he was still dangerous.

“I think that’s enough about that, Buttons,” you suggest as kindly as you could. Buttons just nodded in agreement and some level of understanding.

“I think it’s wonderful, two being from different worlds. Rather romantic, really, if you think about it.” Now Izzy was growling and baring his teeth at Stede, hands gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles.

You knew it was time to put an end to this conversation. Anything else they wanted to ask, they could ask you alone.

“Alright, Iz…let’s get you something to eat, who knows how long you were tangled up in that. Then we’ll send you on your way, okay?” you suggested, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

You felt Israel relax under your touch before he lent into your side to whisper, “Ed will be looking for me. I’ve been gone a long time.”

You nodded slightly, understanding why that was a concern. “A quick snack and you’ll be back in the water,” you promised and he nodded his agreement.

You stood from the table with another reassuring squeeze to his shoulder before slipping into the kitchen. You worked quickly, preparing some honey on crackers and a side of his favourite fruits.

You returned to his side, placing the plate down in front of him. Izzy picked at and ate the food in silence as the crew filed out, realising they were no longer welcome. Though, you did catch Roach muttering something about missing rations and disappearing honey. You would have to answer for that eventually.

“Thank you,” Izzy whispered. Things would have gone very differently if you weren't there, if you were willing to put yourself in danger for him. You couldn’t have been completely sure that your crew wouldn’t turn on you, that they wouldn’t think you were enchanted or betraying them in some way. And you did all of that for him.

“Anytime,” you smiled, reaching out to swipe your thumb over the corner of his mouth, wiping away some honey. He blushed when you sucked the honey from the side of your thumb, staring down at his plate.

Once Izzy was finished eating, you cleaned up and led him back up onto the deck. Izzy headed straight over to the railing, ignoring the crew and looking out over the water. You joined him, standing by his side.

“Is he here?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah…yeah, he’s here,” Israel nodded. You expected as much.

“We’ll take a dinghy out, you can meet up with him,” you told him and he just nodded.

When you turned around, the crew was already watching the two of you, of course. They could be nosey on the best of days, and this had certainly gotten their interest.

“Going to take a boat out, if that’s alright captain,” you left Izzy’s side, approaching Stede.

“Of course,” Stede permitted, suddenly realising that was a better idea than just letting the man/siren jump overboard.

Stede’s gaze flicked to Israel when he came up to your side. He lent in close, making sure nobody else would hear him. “Ed likes him.”

“Stede?” you whispered back, glancing at your captain to make sure he didn’t hear. He looked oblivious so you assumed he didn’t.

“Says he’s cute,” Israel turned his nose up at that thought, making you laugh.

You looked at Stede for a moment, he was rather interesting, you would give Edward that. You tried to picture them together, they might be quite cute actually, Stede would love learning all about sirens.

“He can come say hello,” you suggested quietly, instantly noticing how Izzy shifted nervously beside you. “Just an offer, now it’s safe. Whenever he wants, I’ll vouch for him,” you brushed your hand against his.

“He’ll take you up on that eventually,” Izzy warned.

“You’ll come too though, right?” you asked hopefully.

“‘Course,” Izzy smiled a little to himself, that little smile that made your heart beat faster against your ribcage.

“Everything okay?” Stede asked, feeling very left out of the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry,” you shook your head, remembering that your captain was standing right in front of you both. “Ready to go?” you asked Izzy and he nodded.

Izzy helped you lower the dinghy, staying by the railing as you told the crew that you would be right back.

Just as you were about to climb over the railing, somebody grabbed your hand. Israel was pressed against your side in an instant, snarling at the perpetrator. Frenchie ripped his hand away from you and took a step back.

“It’s alright, Iz,” you assured him, realising that he had a protective, perhaps even possessive, side that you hadn’t properly seen yet. “What’s up, Frenchie?”

“Just…wanted to tell you to be careful, yeah?”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise,” you assured the musician before climbing over the railing.

You and Israel climbed down into the dinghy before you rowed away from the Revenge, further than you usually would for the sake of Izzy’s privacy and comfort.

Once Israel assured you that you were far enough, you pulled the oars into the boat.

As Izzy started untying his shirt, Edward’s head popped up beside the boat. “Iz, you alright?” he asked, looking him over for any signs of harm.

“I’m fine, Ed,” Izzy huffed, like his friend’s concerns were unjustified. “Just a little humiliated. Your crew never had a fishing net out before,” he confessed, shooting you a small glare.

“Don’t think it’s usually left out overnight, I didn’t know. Sorry,” you apologised, cringing at the memory of him all tied up in the net.

“Not your fault,” he pulled his shirt off and handed it to you.

Edward was watching you now as you folded the shirt in your lap, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, I promise,” you reminded him.

“I know. I believe you,” Edward nodded firmly, his gaze softening. He looked somewhat fond of you, maybe just appreciative for your help.

“Izzy, you uh…could visit any time now, I guess. The crew won’t mind, they just need some time to relax and process,” you told him, but you were sure that he wouldn’t be eager to take you up on that offer. “And, Edward, you could come too. Maybe meet the captain?” you suggested.

“Yeah?” Edward asked, his face lighting up.

“We are not visiting,” Izzy said sternly, as if he didn’t already know he was going to lose this battle.

“Not with that attitude we’re not,” Ed grinned.

“Ed,” Izzy whined, a little petulantly he’d admit.

“You’re both always welcome as my guests,” you assured them, ready to welcome them at any time.

“Alright, fine, whatever,” Izzy rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn’t put up much of a fight against the two of you even if it was just common sense to not mingle with humans. He supposed they already crossed that line though, and he couldn’t say no to either of you. So, this was going to happen at some point.

“Now, do you mind,” Izzy gestured to his pants.

“Yeah, right, sorry,” you covered your eyes politely.

You felt the boat rock with his movements, heard the shuffling of material before something landed in your lap followed by the sound of water splashing.

You uncovered your eyes, smiling down at the two sirens in the water. “Until next time, gents,” you said your goodbyes. They both nodded, giving you smiles of their own.

You rowed back to the ship, knowing you were bound to get more questions about this whole thing.

“I like them,” Edward smirked, one of his tentacles knocking against Izzy’s tail. Izzy just sighed. “They’re good. We should go visit them,” he decided.

“And their captain?” Izzy asked knowingly.

“I mean…if he just so happens to be there too,” Edward shrugged. When the other siren didn’t respond, he looked at him. “Please, Iz,” he whined, batting his lashes, giving him the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Fine!”

Oluwande was at the railing when you returned, helping you climb back into the ship and raise the dinghy back up. “Exciting morning,” he mused once the dinghy was secured.

You laughed tiredly to yourself, your lack of sleep catching up with you. “You okay?” you asked.

“Freaked out a little, but you trust him and we trust you,” Oluwande confessed with a small smile, always reassuring.

“Yeah…I mean, I was kinda freaked out too. I mean, I didn’t even really know sirens existed until I met him. Not all the stories are true though,” you admitted. Though your curiosity and awe had overwhelmed your fear that night, which you were beyond thankful for now.

“They eat people?” Olu asked.

“...yeah,” you sighed, quickly adding, “not us though.” Oluwande just nodded, looking a little amused. “But I mean…they’re just as afraid of humans as we are of them.” He seemed even more convinced by that.

It was then that Lucius came up to your other side. “I see the appeal,” he commented with a suggestive tone. You just raised an eyebrow at him, Oluwande already chuckling to himself. “He gave you this?” Lucius poked the pearl hanging from your neck, smirking at you.

“Yes, now fuck off,” you huffed, slapping Lucius’ hand away as he laughed.

“It’s sweet!” Lucius insisted. “A forbidden romance,” he added wistfully.

“I will let him eat you,” you threatened, only making Lucius laugh more.

“Now, I have to return these to the captain,” you huffed, grabbing the folded up shirt and pants, leaving Lucius and Olu to talk between themselves.

The crew wasn’t so shaken up by the whole thing anymore, which certainly meant you were going to be teased for your budding romance. Thankfully, Israel was worth it.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy #izzy hands #ofmd x reader #ofmd #our flag means death

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jimilter · 3 years

Text

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (2/2)

one | two

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | some fluff + humor towards the end | established relationship!au

summary: It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings: swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, slightly rough sex, sex in a semi-public place, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering, maybe like...two spanks? idk) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh) + seokjin’s volatile anger at ppl calling his girlfriend “noona” lol

word count: 12.9 k

note: y’all. this fic has been a long as heck journey. and i’ve proofread it so many frickin times, i’m seriously tired of it😩 but i’ve poured my heart and soul into it, y’all, i hope you like it~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

“Yah! Jung Hoseok! Get up!” Seokjin barks, kicking the sleepy redhead’s bum with his foot. “You promised me grocery shopping!”

“Hyung?”

Seokjin turns around to find Yoongi standing at the door to Hoseok’s room, looking at him with barely open eyes. “What?” he, quite unnecessarily, snaps.

“Just so you know, he went to bed at six,” Yoongi says around a yawn.

Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “And? Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Yoongi blinks at him. “If you’re a human being, yes, hyung. Let the poor guy sleep, I’ll go grocery shopping with you.”

Seokjin vehemently shakes his head. “No, Yoongs. These kids should learn that their actions have consequences! And that promises that they make to me, mean something.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, very elaborately. “Please, hyung. It’s been more than six years. Stop teaching them lessons. Also, Hobi is a senior at college now. They’re hardly kids anymore!”

“Well, until they’re earning, they’ll be kids in my eyes.” Seokjin turns his nose up at Yoongi.

"This isn't how you should be venting, but you do you, I guess." Yoongi presses his lips together and shakes his head. “If he picks up leeks in place of spinach, it’s on you.”

Seokjin waves a dismissive hand to ward off Yoongi and focuses his energy back on waking the redhead up.

The guy groans after a fifteen minutes’ worth of struggle.

“Hyu~ng,” he whines as he sits up. “I even cleaned up!”

“Yes, great job with that. And that is why I held back from dumping a bucket of water on your head.”

“Hyung?”

Seokjin clicks his tongue at the new intruder. “What?” he snaps at an unsuspecting Park Jimin.

Jimin holds both his hands up in surrender. “Woah, bad time?”

“What do you want?”

A snore echoes around them. Hoseok has nodded off with his cheek pressed against the headboard, mouth hanging open.

Jimin releases a muffled laugh. “If only his mom and dad were to see him like this. Their precious wangja — oh, how college has corrupted him.”

The irony isn’t lost on Seokjin. Jimin used to be a precious pearl in high school, himself. They all suspected he even had a girlfriend, but he never talked about it openly. And look at him now. Sleeping his way through the university.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you want, Jimin?”

“Oh! Your phone was ringing, hyung,” Jimin informs him, handing said device to Seokjin. “You left it on the kitchen counter.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen when he looks down at the screen.

Pat (Agent) 1 Unread Text Message

Honey✨❤️👸 2 Missed Calls 3 Unread Text Messages

“Yeah, um. Good luck?” Jimin says with a wince before walking away.

Seokjin checks his agent's text first.

IT’S ON SATURDAY! The final run’s on Saturday, Kim!!! Make sure your abs are A+++, or else! I’ve mailed you a scanned copy of the schedule and also your updated diet/workout plan. Mail me back when you get those. Preferably TODAY? This is as imp for my career as it is for yours, okay? Focus up!

Seokjin bites down on his lip. This is all really important, top priority material, but he cannot get himself to check his mailbox before he’s talked to you.

He checks your texts.

Hey, Jin I can’t find my driver’s license Can you pls check and tell me if I left it in your car?

Seokjin swears under his breath as he shoots off a “sure, wait a sec,” in response, before rushing out of the room. He marches all the way to the foyer, pausing to pick up his keys and then proceeds to walk out. Unlocking his car, he stops short when he spots your ID sticking out from the crevice between the driver’s seat and its back.

He plucks the card out with a sigh.

It’s here, he texts you.

Honey✨❤️👸 Are you seeing Namjoon today? You can leave it with him if you see him, I'll pick it up from him when I see Jax later today

Seokjin pauses.

You're seeing Jackson later today?

Seokjin swears under his breath. Why are you making time for Jackson and giving him the cold shoulder?

He knows he's being unfair and unreasonable, but he can't help the flair of jealousy.

I'm not seeing joon today, he curtly responds.

Honey✨❤️👸 Oh! Um I’m at my usual salon w Byulyi, can you get someone to drop it off here? No pressure, though

Seokjin rubs a hand down his face, grimacing at the immediate thought that comes to his mind.

He wants to drop the ID off to you himself. But he resists the urge, and instead tries to deflect.

Okay, I'll ask around, he texts back, proceeding to lock his car.

His phone beeps with a message. Then another, and then multiple others.

Honey✨❤️👸 Only if you have the time If you’re not too busy Don't worry too much about it, tho I'm glad I haven't lost it! I can take the bus to get around

He thinks it over. What should he do?

After your considerate act of letting him catch up on some much needed rest, yesterday, by saving him from a trip to the rehearsal hall, a lot of the steam in Seokjin’s head has cooled down. So what if you discuss your relationship problems with Jackson? He is your childhood friend, it is okay. He decides he should not let his insecurity get in the way of that. Besides, doesn’t he ask for Yoongi’s advice when he finds himself in a fix? Well, whenever he can wrestle the guy into actually listening to him, that is, which is rare.

Point is, when his entire house was partying like crazy, last night, Seokjin locked himself in the bedroom—his own, this time—and told himself to not let tiny, stupid quarrels about your friendship get in the way of trying to resolve what the real trouble between the two of you is. He has never told you what to do – whom to talk to and what to talk about – and he is not about to start now. He is a much bigger man than that. Much more level-headed and secure.

At least, he tries to be.

Not that you'd ever listen, if he tried to control him. You'd probably slap him across the face and pack your bags. You're amazing like that, at knowing what you deserve and never taking shit from people.

You're amazing in general, actually. A literal manifestation of his dream girl. He believes you could pick out any guy in the world to be with you, and he would be stumbling over his feet to get to your side.

You falling for him is the best thing that's ever happened to him—not that he'd ever say those exact words to you, because you'd be sure to reprimand him about putting emotions over substantial necessities in life. But Seokjin feels lucky to be the one you chose to have you by your side. And he intends to do whatever it takes to keep it that way

On that account, Seokjin has kind of been at a loss, as well. He's nowhere close to figuring out the reason behind your simmering anger, no matter how much he might want to resolve it.

When Hoseok dragged him out for shots and a game of beer pong during last night's party, he even cornered Namjoon to try and dig out if he had somehow overhead something between you and Jackson. Or if Jackson had told Namjoon about anything. But the idiot seemed absurdly preoccupied and in a hurry, and was of no use to Seokjin. He even left before midnight, from what Seokjin recalls.

Seokjin glances down at his phone. Should he go up to you, grab you by the shoulders, give you a shake, and ask you what is up? Would that work? And also get your ID back to you in the process, maybe.

Seokjin figures it cannot hurt to try. You have barely been talking, as it is. What can be worse, right?

Seokjin breathes out.

He is more than certain that this is something you would not appreciate. When you prefer his suave self as much as you do, you are sure to run in the opposite direction if he really goes caveman on you. Which is why he won’t do that, and instead wait for you to tell him what is wrong. Like a level-headed person.

Right now, though, he really wants to help you out with this ID, he admits to himself. The way you were concerned about his well being despite your obvious annoyance of him and your general lack of benevolence when it comes to display of affection, got to his heart. It reassured him that your anger didn't mean you love him any less.

And he wants to do the same for you. Well, maybe not the anger part – he just wants to tell you that he isn't intentionally trying to be difficult. He really doesn't know what's wrong, but his love and concern for you is the same despite all the tension between you two.

But driving all the way to the salon you're at just to give you your ID would be excessive, wouldn't it? He doesn’t want to seem desperate.

He decides upon a tentative message.

I'm going to pick up groceries, right now I'll see if I can drop it off later

His phone beeps within a minute.

Honey✨❤️👸 Hey, don't worry! I'll hop on a bus and come to your place when I'm done here

A small smile floats up on Seokjin's face. This feels good – almost the way things usually are between the two of you.

Then his phone beeps again.

Could you drop me off to Jax's later tho? If you’re not too busy

Face and elation dropping, Seokjin immediately scowls.

His phone beeps again.

No, forget about that, I'll take the bus again I'll be at yours in an hour, okay? I'll drop a text to make sure you're home, don't worry

Scoffing, Seokjin foregoes sending you a response, and turns on his heels.

Jimin raises his eyebrows from his perch on one of the living room couches when Seokjin furiously marches back into the house. "All okay, hyung?"

"Honey keeps visiting Wang but won't tell me what the fuck is going on. All's fucking impeccable," Seokjin bellows, walking into Hoseok's room.

"They're basically siblings, hyung, please don't overthink it!" Jimin's call floats over to him, but Seokjin ignores the statement.

He picks up a stray, half filled bottle of water from the floor of Hoseok’s room, and proceeds to upturn it all over his red hair.

"Wake the fuck up, Hoseok, before I start throwing punches!"

Something is wrong with Seokjin. He’s been avoiding you.

And no, not the usual subconscious, nonchalant ignorance and neglect that he subjects you to on the regular. This time he’s doing it on purpose.

There was something off about him when you saw him yesterday, too, you recall to yourself as you make your way down to a recently vacated table with a rag. Sure, he received you gracefully when you got to the apartment and then dropped you off at Jackson's without complaint, but something wasn’t quite right. He seemed snippy and irritable. You tried asking him about the Halloween party, wondering if something must have gone wrong then — or if he was too pissed at your absence, although it was his fault that you didn’t attend because he forgot to remind you — but got one word responses.

It kind of felt like that time when you had tried to make him realize you were mad with your sarcastic quips, but this time the roles were reversed. You are smarter at this than he is, though, so you have at least figured out that he is mad quicker than he did — if he even has, that is. But you still have to discern the cause. It certainly doesn’t feel good to be on the guessing side of the table.

Later in the day, when you tried texting him to meet up, he told you he was helping Taehyung out with a crisis and wouldn't be available. You almost didn't believe him, but you know he wouldn't lie so blatantly just to avoid seeing you. Even when Seokjin gets really mad at you—which doesn’t even happen that often—he still doesn't avoid your company, choosing to make his displeasure known by acting out in your presence, instead. At the end of the day, you inferred he really must have been with Taehyung.

But then, today morning, when he refused to drive to the restaurant together, you nearly blew smoke out of your nose. This had no excuse, he is definitely trying to avoid you now – something he has never done in the past. There has been so much miscommunication between you two in the past few days, that you aren’t even certain what to say to him. Do you straightaway bring your issues up and ask him to work on them? Do you, instead, ask him why he’s acting pissed off? But what if you are dissuaded by whatever he tells you and end up avoiding having your talk with him? It is very much possible – you know yourself and your avoidance of conflict.

You don’t know where to begin and how to go about it, but you do know that you have to talk to him today.

Not that it will be easy, because you have tried to corner him on multiple occasions throughout your shift and he has skillfully dodged you every single time. It has been nearly four hours. You feel like an idiot and are growing progressively more irritated.

As you wipe down the table, you peek at the clock again. Five more minutes until lunch break — you are going to grab him by the collar and drag him to privacy. Maybe that will agitate him enough for him to spill what’s on his mind, unprompted.

Fuming, you empty the scrap wrappers on your tray into the bin and walk around the cash counter to deposit the empty tray into the dishwasher lined up near the back. You peer into the kitchen past the little glass window on the door that separates it from the counter area, and spot Seokjin.

He is working the shrimps with a pout of concentration on his face, peeling them with expert, practised motions of his gloved fingers. You sigh at the sight. Seokjin is never anything less than handsome, but there is something especially attractive about him when he’s in his element. Your fingers curl into a fist, stomach swooping.

You’re not supposed to get turned on by him when you have a whole sea of issues and things to talk about between the two of you. Maybe the acute lack of any sexual contact between the two of you for more than three months now is getting to you. Not that you have been completely sexually abstinent — you indulge in long, drawn out sessions of working yourself up in the privacy of your bedroom, or the bathtub, whenever it gets too much and you really have to unwind. But, that could never compare to what you share with Seokjin. Or used to, at this point, because you really have no idea how long this dry spell is gonna last for.

“Table three!” the cashier announces, and you jump, snapping out of your thoughts.

You were seriously daydreaming about the lack of sex in your relationship in the middle of a restaurant, at work. What have you come to?

“On it!” you announce, taking a deep breath as you walk away from the door to the kitchen.

When you round the counter, you find the family of four that had occupied the table you were headed to, at the billing desk. You pass them a pleasant smile with a bow, the four of them nod back with matching grins. You pick up your rag from the drying rack and walk up to their vacated table to toss their trash and wipe it down.

“Okay, guys, meal break!”

You exhale in relief, making a quick work of the trash in the tray in your hands before slipping into the backroom. You shed off your apron, realising you’re one of the first people to have entered the locker room. Moving to the bathroom to quickly freshen up, you hastily tie your pinned back hair into a knot at the top of your head. You scrub your face with your face wash, because missing it even once is going to have you waking up with breakouts all over your forehead tomorrow. You hurry through the process, though, and rush back out into a bustling locker room.

You look across the curtained excuse for a partition to glance at the men’s side. No sign of Seokjin.

You curse under your breath, looking around for one of the helpers that work in the kitchen. One younger boy catches your eye and bows in greeting.

“Seokjin-ssi went out to the breakroom with his lunch,” he tells you without you even having to ask.

This time, you curse out loud. Quickly grabbing your own lunch, you nearly sprint through the doors of the breakroom to get to the booth where you usually sit with Seokjin. And then you stop.

He’s sitting there with someone. A girl, to be specific.

You walk up to them on leaden legs, only to exhale in relief when you realize it’s Taehyung’s girlfriend. You belatedly recall Seokjin’s texts about being involved in solving Taehyung’s crisis. Maybe it had to do with his relationship.

But none of it does anything to ease your anger. You cross your hands against your chest. “So, now you have engagements during lunch, too.” You say, causing the two heads to whip your way. Taehyung’s girlfriend’s face goes from nervous to downright horrified. Seokjin simply works his jaw, unreadable eyes giving away nothing. “Great. Just great.”

You twist on your heels, rushing back into the locker room.

This is all supremely ridiculous. As if Seokjin wasn’t doing a good enough job of avoiding you himself, fate sent help his way.

Just as you’re aggressively stomping around the locker room while secretly hoping Seokjin would follow you back, your phone pings with a message. You eagerly open it.

And then you wane.

Jax 🚽 Hey You at work?

You scowl. Where else would you be? You tell him as much.

Jax 🚽 K, great. I’m coming over with some guys Remember that frat I told you about? It’s them I want a 20% off

You scoff.

Me They’re welcome to the restaurant But I’m not giving you discounts from my paycheck

Jax 🚽 Asdkjsdflkdfkl okay 10%? I'll treat you to gelato later! Come on, lemme build a good rapport!! Please??? 🥺

Me Oh my god, Jax Don’t use gelato against me like that 😩 5% and not a CENT more

Jax🚽 Yessssss You’re literally my best bitch!!!! Love you love you love you Your break ends in five minutes right? We’ll be there in ten

Me I’m nobody’s bitch, Wang! And yes, come along

You roll your eyes, but the action is fond. At least Jackson and his bunch of misfits will get your mind off your boyfriend’s attitude. You decide to forego lunch, too much on your mind for you to actually enjoy a meal.

You walk into the dining area of the restaurant and make your way to the cashier who has just come back from her break. “Hey, Rose, I have some friends coming over in a while. They’re getting five percent off on my account.”

Rose gives a small laugh. “Oh, no. You and discounts? How?”

You huff. “Gelatos were involved.”

“No, that’s a low blow!” Rose dramatically places a hand on her chest.

You laugh out loud, soon joined in by Rose. Just as you’re ensuring that all the tables have a copy of the laminated menus on it, a group of boys enters the restaurant, bringing in raucous laughter in their wake. You look up to spot Jackson among the four guys. You beam at him.

Walking over to their table once they’re settled in, you grin at the four boys. “Hello, guys.”

Jackson introduces you to the boys, telling them your name and the fact that your boyfriend works here, too.

“Hey!” one of the boys speaks up at the mention of Seokjin’s name. “Yugyeom, here, must know him!”

The guy—Yugyeom—looks up at you with wide eyes and gives a nod. “I share classes with Jungkook. He’s a friend of Seokjin-ssi’s.”

“I’m Mark, by the way,” the guy from earlier introduces himself.

“Jinyoung,” the fourth and the final — and admittedly the most put together for a college student — guy of the group introduces himself with a smile.

“Right. Yugyeom, Max, Jinyoung,” you reiterate, pointing a finger at each of the guys to confirm that you’ve captured their names well. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Hey, can we see Jin?” Jackson asks you just as you’re leaving to let them ponder their orders. “If he’s not too busy around the kitchen? I’d like to say hi.”

You frown, confused at the request. You give him a stilted nod, anyway. “I’ll — I’ll ask him if he’s available.”

Jackson grins at you and you see something conspiratorial in his eyes, but your mind is way too preoccupied to actually, properly interpret what it is.

You walk towards the kitchen, knocking once to get the attention of one of the helpers. He peeks at you through the window. “Yes?”

“One of the customers is asking for Seokjin. Ask him to get to table eight if he’s got time.”

The boy nods and walks away. You try to peek in, but are able to catch no glimpse of Seokjin.

The next fifteen minutes have you flurrying between the counter area and the boys’ table with the myriad of orders they’ve placed. These idiots are really ordering over thirty dollars worth of food per person at a Mexican restaurant. Your average customers hardly order up to ten. You shoot a menacing glare at Jackson. He wanted you to pay twenty percent of this?

You exhale as you place the last burrito bowl next to Jinyoung, nodding when he gives you a wide, dimpled smile.

“Hey, the restaurant’s not busy, where are you rushing off to?”

You cock an eyebrow at Jackson.

“I mean, have a seat!”

As you gape at your silver haired best friend, Mark and Yugyeom also join in. “Yeah, sit with us!”

“Guys, I work here!”

“You can get up when another customer comes in, come on,” Mark suggests.

You turn to look at Rose, who gives you a thumbs-up with a reassuring nod. You sigh.

The only vacant place is next to Jinyoung on the wall-mounted sofa. You move to pull up a stool from the adjoining table when Jackson puts his arm in your way. “We have plenty of room here, where are you going?”

You turn to look up at Jinyoung. He shifts further inside, patting the place next to him cutely. “Please.”

Skittering on your feet, you awkwardly perch in the provided space. You are not being crowded and have plenty of personal space — not to mention how Jackson is seated on your open side of the table and there’s literally no reason for you to be uncomfortable, but you still are. You fidget with your hands in your lap, trying and failing to keep up with the conversations around you.

Suddenly, a hand taps the table in front of you. You look to the side to spot Jinyoung smiling at you. “You’ve been a graduate from our university, right?”

You smile. “Yes. I was an anthropology major.”

“I know, I am pursuing a master's in your major. I saw your name in the department’s ace students’ plaque. You were a gold medalist.”

“Oh, yeah, I was really passionate about anthropology back then. Planned on pursuing a Master’s, a PhD, and everything.” You shrug. “But then I participated in a photoshoot and my life took a turn.”

Jinyoung smiled. “Well, I hope you have no regrets. Modelling suits you, sunbaenim.”

“I don’t. But the compliment is appreciated.” You formally tilt your head at him with a small smile. “And you don’t have to call me that,” you add, shaking your head at the address. “This is not a professional setting. I’m meeting you as Jax’s friends, not your senior.”

“You’re still older than me, though. Shall I call you noona, then?”

Your eyes widen at his forwardness, mind immediately flashing back to the time when Yoongi took to calling you that, playfully, and Seokjin lost his mind. He got so uncharacteristically enraged and irrational that he forced all of the boys to address you by the pet name he gave you. It was awkward and really frustrating for you to be called “honey” by seven guys. But gradually, it turned into “Honey noona,” and at this point “Honey” almost feels like your name to you.

While you’re still staring at Jinyoung with your eyes wide at his question, a familiar hand is placed on your shoulder. “No, Park, you may not. Sunbaenim should do.”

You nearly break your neck in the process of turning to look behind you. Seokjin has a very fake grin plastered on his face while his eyes glare at Jinyoung. Does he know the guy? You didn’t even know his surname.

“Hyung!” Jackson jumps from his seat next to where Seokjin stands, clapping his back as he forcibly traps your boyfriend in a hug. “How have you been? It’s been so long!”

Seokjin peels Jackson off himself with a grimace. “I’m okay. You, though.” He squints. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Jackson’s grin falls, wide eyes flying to yours. You shrug, and his jaw falls open. Seokjin turns to you.

“You look cosy, Honey. I’ve never met these friends of yours,” Seokjin icily comments, his huge, teeth-flashing grin as fake as Jackson’s hair color.

You immediately spring up from your seat. “Uh, these are Jackson’s friends, Jin. Yugyeom, Mark and… Jinyoung,” you hesitantly announce their names, mentally hoping Seokjin would have enough sense to not punch someone in the nose at his workplace. “I met them just today.”

“Oh!” Seokjin’s eyebrows raise. “Your social skills are fabulous, babe. I really couldn’t tell you were sitting with strangers.”

You barely hold back your wince. Seokjin doesn’t get jealous easily—or ever, really—but he’s been on some sort of edge since yesterday, so you really do not know why he’s doing whatever he’s doing. You desperately want to give him a piece of your mind for his passive aggressive taunts when all you were doing was being hospitable. But you keep your thoughts to yourself because you don't want to cause a scene in front of all these people.

“Come on, hyung, we’re hardly strangers,” Jinyoung says, surprising you. “We come from the same home town, the same school,” he adds as a means of explanation.

Taken aback at the unexpected revelation, you look at Seokjin to confirm. He’s shooting daggers at Jinyoung. It’d be in your best interest to not intervene. You roll your lips into your mouth, really uncomfortable with the atmosphere, and stealthily try to skulk away from the table.

“I remember, Park. You didn’t come here for graduation?” Seokjin’s voice is still lined with venom, but at least he’s making some sort of conversation instead of beating his chest like a gorilla.

“I went abroad,” Jinyoung simply answers, looking slightly chastised for some reason.

While Seokjin shakes hands with the other two, you try to sneak away. But then—

“Honey! Can I have a word?” he announces, drawing everybody’s — even Rose’s — attention to the two of you.

Caught with your eyes wide and mouth open, all you can do is nod. You delicately walk up to the entrance to the locker rooms and wait for him.

He is by your side in less than a minute, gripping at your elbow and walking the two of you inside the locker room. He doesn’t stop there, though, and proceeds to enter the washroom. Once inside, he spins you away from him and turns to lock the door.

You wrap your arms around yourself, irritated, confused, intimidated and a teensy bit turned on because your boyfriend looks really sexy with his white, nearly transparent, shirt stretched over his glorious shoulders. His clenched teeth that accentuate his already razor sharp jawline don’t help the matters, either.

Seokjin doesn’t face you for a while.

“Um, Jin?” you mumble, and that prompts him to turn around, step over to you, grip you by your upper arms and press you against the shut door — all in one blink of your eye.

He is breathing heavily and looking at you from beneath tightly lowered brows. He looks sexy as sin. You bite your lip to physically prevent yourself from voicing your thoughts, or—God forbid—moan.

Seokjin’s eyes immediately drop to your mouth, and you realize that it might not have been the best course of action to take when you see his irises darken. “All I want to know is,” he begins in a low voice, and you barely hold yourself back from shuddering, “why did I find my girlfriend of five years flirting with a lecherous frat boy, just now?”

Your mouth falls open on a gasp. “What? I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, but he was, and you weren’t stopping him.”

You blink. He was flirting with you? Have you really gotten so immune to other guys’ charms that you don’t even notice their flirting anymore? You swallow. You really are too far gone for this man. This man — who is trying to confront you in his sweat soaked shirt, looking like a five-course meal.

You sigh.

"Where's all this jealous rage coming from, Jin?" you ask, raising your chin up at him.

His eyes widen. "Where's—are you serious? What's going on with you? You're freezing me out even though you're clearly mad at something and you know nothing can be resolved if you don't talk to me about it," Seokjin starts off high pitched, enraged but his voice becomes thicker towards the end. "But then you're having the time of your day talking to Jackson Wang, and now even some random frat boy he brought in. What are you trying to tell me? That just about any guy in the world is worth your time and attention, but not your boyfriend?"

You are stilled into silence at his outburst. You realize that none of what he's saying can be dismissed as him going too far, because from a neutral point of view, your lack of communication with Seokjin does paint you in a bad light. You belatedly realize that you actually have ended up making him feel the way you’ve felt for months, despite not really intending to anymore.

You suck in a breath.

"No, Jin. Of course not, that's not true. I – I was going to talk to you, but then—"

"But then Park fucking Jinyoung swept you off your feet and you couldn't be bothered anymore!" Seokjin huffs out, stepping away as he leans back against the bathroom counter.

You frown. "Okay, now that's unfair. Number one, nobody swept me off my feet, I was just trying to be polite because he's a student in my major and Jackson's friend. Number two, you really need to stop whining about Jackson, Jin, he's literally my brother." You pinch the bridge of your nose when Seokjin still doesn't meet your eyes, moodily looking away. "And three, I've been trying to catch a hold of you since yesterday, but you've been avoiding me like the fucking plague!"

Seokjin's eyebrows drop down in a frown. "Two objections to raise," he says, holding a finger up. "Jackson might be like your brother but he is not your brother. And that makes a difference. And—"

"Do you not trust me, Jin? Is that what this is? And suddenly? I've known him since we were twelve, you've known about him since the day you and I met, and you're having problems now? Pardon me if I'm confused."

Seokjin looks away, and you sigh in relief. At least he hasn't lost all of his marbles, yet. "I… am sorry. I've been in a weird state of mind. That's no excuse, though, so sorry again."

You exhale. "And about Jinyoung—"

"Don't say his name like that!" Seokjin stands straight, glaring at you with fists clenched at his sides.

You gape at him. "Jin. Stop being a jealous idiot and let me talk!"

"You know what? No."

"What do you mean no?"

"No, I won't let you talk."

"What the—"

"Unless you wanna talk about why you've been mad at me."

You’ve never really seen him let his emotions be on such a blatant display before. And you are not complaining, even when he is pissing you off with his words.

You take a deep, calming breath.

"This is hardly the time to discuss it, Jin. I'll talk about it tonight, okay?" You glance at your wrist watch. "We've been in here for too long, I need to—"

"Go back to those fuck boys?"

You gasp. "Kim Seokjin, are you fucking kidding me, right now? I'm working! And so are you!"

Seokjin rolls his eyes. "There was literally nobody else in the dining hall, Honey. Just Wang and his group of frat fuckers."

You grimace at the new adjective, but shake your head. "Pull yourself together and stop being this person that I know you're not, Jin. Let me go back to do my job."

Rolling your eyes, you turn around to unlock the door.

“Are you really that desperate for attention?” Seokjin hisses behind you, a palm coming up to cover your hand, effectively stopping you from unlatching the door. "A little frat boy flirts with you and you cannot wait to go hopping back to him. Are you really that desperate? Are you?"

He has never talked to you this way. Never.

It’s kinda exciting.

Seokjin grabs you by the shoulders and turns you around, pressing your back flat against the door because of how much he has stepped up into your space. He moves further in, though, and you gasp when your breasts are crushed against his chest.

You look up to find him glaring at you with stormy eyes, lips pulled up in an almost sneer.

You gulp.

He's borderline manhandling you right now, and instead of getting offended, you are finding it incredibly sexy. It’s not your fault you like to be rough in bed, it is his for being rough outside of it and reminding you of the fact. It’s also his fault that you two haven’t had sex in forever. You squeeze your thighs together, embarrassed at the wetness you can feel collecting between them.

You exhale, defiantly rolling your shoulders back. The action crushes your bodies together further, and a rushed breath leaves Seokjin. So he isn't completely unaffected, huh?

“And what if I am?" you challenge as a means to answer his question. "I haven’t been getting any from you, am I?”

Even though you just told him that this isn’t the best situation — or the best way — to bring up the issues you have with him, nobody said anything about not taunting him about them. He deserves at least that after all the stupidly jealous accusations and demeaning words he just tossed at you.

Seokjin seems to be surprised by your response, his eyes momentarily flashing. But then his teeth grind, and you can see his jaw working. You try to control your uneven breathing.

“Is that so? You should’ve said something,” Seokjin whispers, leaning close enough for you to be doused in his scent and feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. “I would’ve lavished you in my undivided attention.”

You barely have the time to shut your eyes, least of all decipher his innuendo, before his lips descend on yours.

You gasp into his mouth, welcoming the feeling of his plump lips pressing against yours. He keeps it chaste despite the nio you deliver to his upper lip, running his palms over your collarbones and up your neck to cradle your head. Your own hands come up to clutch at his shoulders and you desperately tilt your head, licking at his soft lips. He presses up his entire body against yours in response, crushing your frame between himself and the door.

This — you’ve missed this.

Whining breathlessly, you suck his full lower lip into your mouth, lapping at it like a starved woman. Seokjin groans, reaching with a hand to rip off your apron and then untuck your shirt from your skirt.

You chase after his lips when he pulls away, separating with a wet pop. Your eyes try to focus on his dishevelled appearance, but he ducks his head to attach his swollen lips to your neck, gripping onto the bare skin of your waist under your shirt to hold you against him.

Your eyes roll back in euphoria, legs stumbling and struggling to keep you up as he devours the column of your throat.

You have missed thisso, so much.

His tongue licks up a path to curl behind your ear, teeth closing in to nibble at you earlobe, and you—

You groan from deep within your gut, eyes fluttering shut as you encase your lower lip in your mouth. His skillful tongue rolls around the pearl you wear on your earlobe before he pulls away with a teasing nip behind your ear.

You shudder, desperate hands clutching in his shirt as he moves to rest his forehead against yours. You shakily open your eyes, gazing at him past the hazy veil of arousal. His eyes are nearly all black, lips glistening and tendrils of hair stick to his forehead from perspiration.

You whimper at the sight.

Seokjin’s fingers dig further into the flesh of your waist, hard enough to leave bruises, and he bites his lip. “My sweet, sweet baby,” he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. One of his hands leaves your waist to travel below, fingers curling over the curve of your ass. He gives it a tight squeeze, looking at you with shuttered eyes when your breath stutters. “When you walked away, they looked at this like they had a right to. As if they could ever do more than just look. As if they could ever,” he murmurs and then pauses, fingers climbing down to your thigh and then climbing up beneath your skirt until his palm is massaging your bare ass cheek, “touch it like this.”

His fingers slip past the waistband of your panties with ease, travelling down towards your center. You look down at his chest, feeling your cheeks heat up when his fingers encounter wetness in their path, even before they’ve reached your core.

“Oh,” Seokjin breathes out, pulling you impossibly closer to him by wrapping his whole arm around your waist. "You're soaked, baby," he murmurs into your forehead. "Did you need something?"

You tremble in his hold. “I…” you can feel your juices nearly flooding your panties as Seokjin’s fingers feather over your slit. “It’s just — it’s been a while.”

You look up to see his brows furrowed a bit. “That it has, hasn’t it?”

You merely blink before you’re being spun around and pressed up against the bathroom’s counter. “Jin!” you admonish him when he lifts your skirt up to bare your ass to him.

But you make no move to stop him — something that doesn’t go unnoticed by him and gets you rewarded by a mockingly raised eyebrow through the mirror.

You gulp, moving your gaze away from him as you grip onto the ledge of the counter. “I need to go—”

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you." Seokjin's tone rings with finality.

You freeze in your place. Your eyes fly up to find his in the mirror, but he is already focussed on the flesh of your naked rear.

One of his arms holds your bent waist. “You look so sexy like this, Honey. Bend a little for me, baby.”

Your mind yells at you to walk out of the place in outrage, but your body is already complying before the thought has even completely formed in your mind.

“Perfect.”

You shut your eyes when you feel him pull away the crotch of your panties. Even the bathroom’s stuffy air feels cold to you due to all the moisture that has slathered all over your pussy.

But the next moment your eyes spring wide open when his fingers slide into you. His mouth is open and lustful eyes are trained at your center. “Oh, yes. Look at them glide right in. You’re so wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

You nod, frantically, voice dying in your throat. You choose, instead, to bend further, folding your arms on the counter and resting your head over them. Another finger joins in inside of you, and you groan.

“Ah, that’s it, Honey. You’re the best girl, you know that? My best girl,” Seokjin suddenly growls, his languid fingers suddenly taking on a hard pace.

You bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, but some muffled whimpers still seep out.

"Aren't you, baby?"

At your frantic nod, he smacks a palm across your ass. "Say it!"

Your breath hitches. "I… I… I'm your best girl, Jin," you mumble, sounding stifled. "Only yours."

"That's right. Only mine.” He curls his fingers in you, rubbing tenderly.

This time you’re unable to hold back your mewl of pleasure.

“Uh huh, let yourself be heard. Park motherfucking Jinyoung better hear you scream my name.”

Seokjin grunts, suddenly switching to a breakneck speed, fucking you with three of his fingers.

You thrash against the counter, legs barely able to stay upright. Seokjin’s grip on your waist is the only thing holding you in place.

And then he suddenly pulls his fingers off you.

You look up at him through the mirror with an enraged gasp. “Jin!”

He doesn't even look at you while quickly unbuttoning his pants. “No, baby, you look too sexy. I have to have you, right now.”

You try to gather yourself, rearranging your feet to get yourself a firmer stance, and wipe at the sweat gathered on your forehead.

And then he’s there — his glorious length pushing at your entrance. You bite your bottom lip, big eyes meeting his hooded ones in the mirror.

Nerves suddenly grip you. It’s been months since your last sexual encounter with him. You’re pretty sure the last orgasm given to you by Seokjin had been—

Holy shit, it was more than three months ago!

Irrational thoughts plague you. What if you’ve forgotten how to move your hips? What if your clit doesn’t like being touched by him anymore?

What if you bark when you reach your high?

“Baby,” Seokjin whispers, and past the cloud of lust thickening his voice, you can hear his sincerity. “Do you want this?”

You nod, nibbling on your lip.

Seokjin frowns, pulling back a bit. “Are you — are you sure? You look nervous as hell. I am not trying to force—”

“I know, Jin, and I want it! I want you, baby. I just…” You look away from him. “I’m just nervous because it’s been a while.”

Seokjin exhales. “I realize that. And I’m sorry.” He presses close again, his tip rubbing against your slit. You sharply look up on a gasp. He gives you a smoldering smirk through the mirror. “Promise to make up for it?”

Your cheeks are pink when you nod, before your breath is knocked out of you when he fills you in a single stroke.

“Fuck, baby…you’re dripping…”

You really are. The pain you’d expected because of how wide you have been stretched after so long, is replaced by a muted sting due to your arousal coating your opening so well.

He feels deliciously big inside of you. The stretch burns a little, because it really has been a while, but the pressure on your walls is more than welcome. Time has done nothing to change your body — your cunt still opens up to swallow him like it was made to do it. He fits inside of you like he belongs there.

Which he does.

"You okay?" he whispers, his restraint spilling off his tight voice.

You nod to him in the mirror with your chest heaving. “Please…"

"Please?" he's suddenly taunting you. "Please what, baby?"

"Please move," you harshly grit out, never one to cower from his sexual presence, no matter how intimidating it might be. "Please fuck me."

"As my baby wishes."

His other hand comes down to hold the other side of your waist as he drags his hips back, his cock massaging your walls the sweetest form of torment you know.

And then he pushes back in at the same, drawn out speed. He brushes against that spot inside of you directly from this position, but he is not being fast enough or hard enough to actually push against it the way you need him to.

He pulls out again, and you hold your breath, walls involuntarily clenching around him to pull him back. But then he re-enters you slowly, again, and you wail in frustration.

“Hush, quit whining,” he gruffly mumbles, taking a hand off your waist to smack at your butt cheek. “Let me feel his pussy properly.”

You bite on your lip, sighing in pleasure when he grabs onto the flesh of your ass for better grip.

He keeps up with his lethargic pace for a while, and your impatience piles on.

“Baby… faster,” you breathe out, pleading with your face still buried in your arms. You push your ass back against him. "Please…"

“Holy shit, baby, I can’t handle it when you beg me like that,” Seokjin says under his breath, cursing as he wraps his arm around your waist to hold you tightly against him.

And then he turns ravenous.

“Jin—ah!” you gasp, mouth falling open as he drives into you with fury, hips snapping against your ass in a blur as he pants into your nape.

“Holy fuck… you’re gripping me so good,” he huffs out, already sounding as out of breath as you feel. “This pussy missed me, huh, Honey?”

You feel yourself flush at the gushing between your legs. You have a thing for his mouth, in every possible sense of the word.

You nod. “Yes. Yes, Jin, missed you so much…”

“Yeah?” he rasps, his other hand rounding your body to sneak beneath your skirt and past the waistband of your underwear, finding your bundle of nerves with practised ease. "Missed this? Missed my hand on this little bud?"

You shriek when he presses his finger against your clit, sloppily flicking the swollen, slippery nub with his nail. His pace never relents, arm digging into your abdomen as he holds you up.

"Yes baby," you brokenly rumble. "Missed – missed your hand… and your cock…"

"Oh, I know you did, baby." His thumb takes over for his finger, proceeding to draw tight circles over your clit. "I missed this pussy, too…"

Your breath is coming in gasps, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you bounce against Seokjin. His ministrations over your clit make sparks climb across your body, indicating your release closing in.

You moan aloud when he delivers a particularly harsh thrust, causing you to drop back against the counter. He leans over you, thumb never moving from your center as his hips slam against your ass.

"That's it, Honey," he breathes into your hair, head dipping to sponge wet kisses against the back of your neck. "Let me hear you."

You release your bottom lip from your mouth, allowing sounds to freely tumble out of your mouth. "Holy fucking hell, you feel so good…Jin, I'm—I'm close…"

Seokjin lets go of your waist and you nearly tumble before tightening your grip against the counter. His hand comes back to curve along your front and grip at your boob, massaging your soft flesh from above your shirt and bra.

Fire licks at the bottom of your stomach. His scent enveloping you, the overwhelming essence of him being wrapped around you so intimately drives you closer to the edge with every ferocious thrust of his cock into you.

His thumb suddenly pauses and presses down on your clit, roughly. You gasp, nearly coming undone at the sensation. "Jin!"

"Hmm?" he murmurs, contently nuzzling your neck as if his dick isn't trying to murder your pussy.

"Jin… I'm so close, baby…"

You groan when he squeezes your boob harder, the nail of a finger scratching your pebbling nipple, and your body jerks forward in response despite the double clothing layer.

"Seokjin~"

"My baby needs to come?" he speaks in a voice that sounds nothing like him — all throaty and guttural and breathy.

"Yes! Please, baby, I need to—ah!"

“Come on then, Honey. Cream my cock,” he murmurs into your hair.

You scream when he pinches your clit, nails digging into your sensitive flesh, and you unravel.

Hot, molten pleasure roils in your stomach, floodgates knocked open as the coil snaps. Your mouth opens on a long, drawn out groan of Seokjin's name, walls of your cunt fluttering around him as you explode on him.

You tremble against him, hips stuttering as you come down from your high while Seokjin fucks you through it, momentarily slowed down.

"That's it, baby, that's my Honey. Let it all go, fuck, you're doing so good," he softly mumbles to you.

If you were haggard before, now you feel positively boneless, ready to collapse on the floor in a heap. But Seokjin holds you up, the hand on your breast now holding your waist against his body in a firmer grip than before. He fucks into you fast and hard, then, eyes noticeably tracing your sweaty neck as you look at him in the mirror through your own barely open ones.

It's a couple of thrusts more before his head drops to your shoulder, body wrung tight as he grunts a string of your name. His hips slowly buck into you as he finishes inside of you.

You give a shaky exhale, head leaning back against him. He takes a step back, pulling you with him, and rests against the wall behind him. You meet his eyes in the mirror, both of you panting with your whole bodies.

"So… that was something," he says, sounding and seeming as if in disbelief.

Well, he is right. It was something. And you are in disbelief too.

You covertly right your panties, grimacing when you encounter a thick fluid coating the tops of your thighs. You try to ignore the gross sensation and pull your panties back over your mound, before tugging your skirt back down.

"We just fucked at our workplace," you mumble, astonishment and, unwittingly, something a lot like awe coloring your tone. "In the fucking bathroom, holy sh—"

"You think someone heard us?" Seokjin asks, sounding more amused than embarrassed.

You gulp, eyes widening. "I certainly hope not."

His hands still tenderly hold onto your waist from behind as you two converse through the mirror.

"Well, I hope Park Jinyoung heard it," Seokjin says with a frown.

You twist in his arms to slap his chest. But then you notice his undone belt and unbuttoned pants, and get to work on them. "Your jealousy got too out of hand. And totally uncalled for, too."

Seokjin rolls his eyes. "You don't know the inside of men's brain the way I do. Every smile you tossed his way was interpreted as one more step closer to getting you into bed with him."

You purse your lips at him. "Well, he wouldn't have succeeded. We both know that."

Seokjin gives you a tiny smirk. "That we do. But it is still disrespectful. Flirting with an older woman so blatantly when she's not only in a relationship, but in a relationship with his senior from school? So very disrespectful."

You pat at his cheek. "Stop stressing over it, Jinnie. He's irrelevant. And, to be honest… I hadn't even noticed him flirting until you mentioned it."

Seokjin gives a laugh. "You're blind to your own beauty, babe. It's almost cute how oblivious you can be." He leans in to plant a quick kiss on your lips. "You know you’re the only thing in this world that I love more than my face, right? That should tell you how amazing you are. I love you so fucking much, Honey."

Despite his dorkiness, your insides flush.

Being bent over and fucked didn't make you blush the way Seokjin's passionate love confession does. You can't recall when was the last time you heard him do it so intimately. Lately, it has just been a casually flicked "love you" as he's dropping you home. Or even worse, a small "ly" after his good night texts.

This, though… you've missed this, too.

"I love you too, Jin. I love you so much," you whisper, resting your head against his collarbone.

"Um… you know—"

There's a loud rapping at the door. "Seokjin! Are you in there?"

You both jump apart, horrified eyes moving to the door.

Seokjin clears his throat, opening and closing his mouth with hesitation. At your nod, he moves closer to the door. "Yuh—yes! Yes, I'm in here! I think I caught a stomach bug!"

You purse your lips together to keep yourself from giggling.

"I told you that salad had been sitting out of the fridge for too long!"

"Sorry, Dan!"

"And where's your girl? Rose has been looking for her for over half an hour!"

You look at Seokjin, completely clueless. But he gives you a reassuring nod. "What? I have no idea! Tell Rose to text her or something. I'll call her when I'm free from here!"

"You do that. And take the rest of the day off if it's too bad!"

Seokjin grins at you. "Okay, Dan!"

As soon as Dan has left, the two of you rush around to right your appearances to the best of your capabilities. But water and aprons can only help so much, and there's nothing to be done about how radiant the post-orgasmic bliss makes the two of you look.

Later, you both sneak out of the bathroom, grab your bags, and then sneak out of the restaurant through the fire exit in the locker rooms, like mischievous teenagers, while hoping and praying you don't encounter any familiar faces on your way out.

When you've reached the safety of Seokjin's car, you shoot off a text to Rose, stating a twisted ankle as an emergency, and tell her to mark you off for the rest of the day. The restaurant's been slow for a while, you're positive the remaining staff of four servers won't miss you.

Seokjin sends a similar text to his supervisor.

And then you sigh. "Okay. Now what?"

Seokjin backs the car out of the parking lot. "Well, we obviously go back to my place, shower, and continue with what we started."

Your body thrums in excitement even as your brows jump up. "Wha—really?"

Seokjin's dark eyes meet yours. "Unless you don't want to?"

You suck in a breath. "I do. I do want to. I've…missed being with you."

"So have I." Seokjin gives you a soft smile, nodding. But then he grins. "But that's not what you were saying you had missed—"

"Seokjin, I swear to God—"

Seokjin wakes up in the late hours of the evening, with you entwined in his arms under the blanket. His stomach is protesting for some food, his salad from the morning very much worked out of his system through the span of the afternoon.

He fondly smiles at your sleeping figure. You look so cute with your lips pouting and eyes blissfully shut. He pecks your forehead.

Slowly sliding away from your hold, Seokjin sits up at the edge of the bed, reaching for his boxers that are tossed on the floor. He dresses himself up in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before stretching his body and quietly padding out of the room.

He has his “very important” audition at the end of this week. He’s set to spend some extra hours in the gym and keep a very sharp grip on his diet. He mentally recalls the diet list his agent mailed him yesterday as he thinks up snacking ideas.

He has just opened the refrigerator for some fruit, when Yoongi accosts him.

"So, I see Honey is back. Happy to know you two made up."

Seokjin pauses, unsure. Have you made up?

He would like to think so.

"Uh, not sure," he mumbles, fetching out two apples and a container of strawberries. "We still have stuff to talk about."

Yoongi stares at him for a few moments, eyes slightly squinted. "What's going on, hyung? From what I understand, Honey is upset with you and you don't know why. The obvious thing would be to ask her about it. What's the hold up?"

Seokjin shrugs. "Shouldn't she tell me herself? Why is she trying to get me to guess? Everybody knows I'm bad at it."

"Well, I don't think it's unfair of her to want her boyfriend to know what's wrong without her having to tell him." Yoongi cocks an eyebrow and Seokjin scowls.

"Well, then, I don't think I have the kind of time on my hand to brainstorm it that much," Seokjin grumpily says, chopping the apple with a little more force than necessary.

"And I think that is where the problem lies."

His head snaps up to frown at Yoongi. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "What I mean is that you would rather choose to stir up a shitstorm because you're upset about her, hyung, but you would still choose to put on this strong, unaffected persona before her. You've never, and I mean never, let your emotional side be open in front of her," Yoongi says with absolute conviction. "You would go crazy with worry over her if she's out late at night and hasn't texted you properly. And when she eventually would, you would act like it wasn't a big deal and you hadn't even thought about it. Even if you had lost hours of sleep over it."

Seokjin blinks at Yoongi, absorbing his words, and realising how right he is.

"I've known you a long time, hyung. Since before Honey came into your life. You've somehow always been a different person with her. This stone cold, practical guy who is career oriented, values success over friends and family and doesn't show his emotions. I bet she's never even seen you cry. And it just doesn't make sense why that is."

Seokjin exhales. He doesn't ever really think about it this way, because most of the time he has a shit load of things running in his head for him to actually slow down and think about things. But Yoongi is onto something – Seokjin has changed ever since you came into his life, and he's loathe to admit that the process hasn't been as natural as one would think.

And despite his very concrete belief that you prefer him to be this way, he does sometimes feel lost and tired by having to constantly keep himself in line.

He is a bit sad when he clears his throat. “I don’t think Honey needs me to be any other way than this, Yoongi. This is how she fell in love with me — this is how she likes me to be.”

Yoongi gapes at him. “What? That doesn’t even make any sense. Are you trying to say that you’re putting on this facade of being strong because you think your girlfriend wants you to?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Well, has she ever said she prefers for you to not cry and be a thick headed idiot? No offence.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “No, but she doesn’t have—”

“No, hyung, then it is that simple.” Yoongi scoffs. “You’re making crazy assumptions and doing something really destructive to yourself. And your relationship.”

“Yoongi…”

“No, hyung, if your girlfriend wants you to be a certain way for her to love you, then you shouldn’t even be together!”

Seokjin puts the knife down and rounds the kitchen counter to sit down next to Yoongi. He cups his palms over his mouth and shuts his eyes for a moment to clear his head.

“It isn’t like that, Yoongs,” he mumbles. “I just… I want her to be by my side forever. She has never asked me to be anything. But I can… tell what she wants out of me, okay?”

Seokjin knows he has let his insecurities and doubts during the beginning of your relationship get the better of him and built this bubble around him that, even five years down the line, is much too difficult for him to come out of. He doesn't even know how to, at this point, because he has gotten so used to being like this. He has somehow hard-wired his brain to believe in it. And he does believe in it most of the time, but Yoongi’s words have thrown him for a loop.

It really is bad for him to be in a relationship with someone that wants him to be a certain way for her to love him, isn’t it?

But do you even really want him to be the way he thinks you do?

He decides to share everything with Yoongi.

"When I… when we met, she had this huge crush on me. You remember the magazine shoot from the first week of my freshman year?" At Yoongi's nod, he smiles and continues, "well, she'd seen that and liked it. A bit too much." He shakes his head, fondly. "Byulyi was her roommate, back then. She was majoring in photography, so I had met her during the shoot. She got the two of us together to pose for her semester project. We got to know each other, and… fell in love, eventually."

Seokjin exhales.

"It somewhat stuck with me that she'd had a crush on a supposed model, and not the clumsy fuck of a person I actually was. So I started to act that way. Always being perfectly put together around her, not a single hair out of place. And it helped that she was always prim and proper to the tee, too. There was this subconscious thought that she found something in that model persona attractive, and I couldn't risk any changes."

Seokjin looks at Yoongi to find the guy looking at him with his lips pursed and gaze disappointed.

"Gradually, I learnt to live with it. It got ingrained to my subconscious. I don't even realize I'm being uncharacteristic about anything, now. The act is no longer an act, it has become part of my personality. Of being this perfect guy who prioritises work before all else, doesn't let petty emotions bring him down — all because I knew she has always been ambitious in life." Seokjin smiles again. "With you guys, it felt weird and a lot like pretense. So I guess I unwittingly developed these dual personalities…"

"Hyung… you do know that you’re wrong, don’t you?” Yoongi says with a serious frown. "Honey loves you for the person you are. It’s been five years and you're not that great of an actor, I'm sorry. She has to have seen the real you and loved him. She wouldn't be here if that weren’t the case.”

Seokjin slumps in his seat. “I know that, rationally. But my brain always latches onto the insecurity that she’ll flee once the persona is dropped.”

“I apologize for my words, but you’re sounding pretty stupid, right now, hyung,” Yoongi says with a scowl. “At least try to let her in, for once. You’ll be able to see it for yourself.”

Seokjin gets up and returns to chopping his fruits. “I’m not sure I even know how to do that, anymore.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue. “You turn into a mother hen when any one of us are in crisis. Please don’t say you don’t know how to let your emotions show, hyung. You just need to stop putting up walls of indifference between the two of you. Be your real self.”

It is easier said than done, but Seokjin silently nods. He realizes the gravity of the situation. Emotional advice from Yoongi is a massive rarity.

If he doesn’t change his ways, would he push you away? He has never thought of it this way. It’s always been the contrary — being too clingy or anything less than this wholly composed man who's unaffected by everything might push you away. But maybe he isn’t as much on mark with this as he had thought.

“At least talk to her. Ask her if she’d like you to try and be more emotionally available to her.”

Seokjin purses his lips, giving Yoongi another nod.

This sounds more doable. He is pretty sure you would have no idea what he’s talking about when he asks you. You have never raised a concern about his behaviour or personality, once. You like him the way he is.

But maybe you two are at a point where you’d like each other anyway the two of you are, so taking a chance might not hurt.

Seokjin decides to bring it up with you. If not to actually follow through with Yoongi’s advice, then at least to prove to himself that he’s right.

Maybe it would resolve your fight for real, maybe it would make him realize he's been living a lie and that he should stop. The latter thought makes him swallow with difficulty, but he has to be rational now.

Yoongi leaves some time after that, and just as Seokjin is about to leave the kitchen with his plate of fruits, you enter it.

He beams at your sleepy dishevelled self, admiring his huge sweatshirt on you that you’re drowning in, your hair that spreads all over your shoulders, your squinted eyes and puffy lips. He cradles you in his arms and plants a kiss on your lips. “Hello there, sleepyhead.”

You whine a little, before folding yourself in his embrace. “Mom called,” you mumble into his chest.

He hums questioningly, untangling from you to sit you down on a kitchen stool. He plops a piece of apple in his mouth, and holds a piece of strawberry before yours.

You accept it with a smile. “Are you free this weekend?”

Seokjin’s brows furrow in thought. No, he isn't. “Um, any specific reason why you’re asking?”

Some of your smile wanes away. “It’s dad’s birthday this Saturday. I thought we could visit…”

Seokjin’s purses his lips, frustrated at himself. He really wants to join you, but the biggest project of his life is this Saturday. He stands to be the face of the brand if he aces this final audition.

“So — you’re not. ’Kay, got it,” you mumble, your face blank as you push away from the kitchen counter and move to walk away.

“Honey! I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“Work? Yeah, I know.” You give a sarcastic bark of laughter and turn around. “It’s okay, Jin. Just because we fucked after so long doesn’t mean you’ve suddenly rearranged all of your priorities. I get it. I shouldn’t be that naive.”

Seokjin blanches, heart freezing in his chest. He can’t even fault you for saying something so crass, because every word is true. It should surprise him how you are asking him to make you his priority when the two of you have always been about putting your careers first, but for some reason, it doesn't.

With every passing moment, he is finding Yoongi's words to ring truer than before. Maybe he has made crazy assumptions about your preferences and created unnecessary struggles for the two of you to face.

Right now, if it were any other, simple shoot, he’d drop it in a heartbeat and get to work on actually rearranging his priorities. Taking a step closer to his truer self. Especially after seeing this look on your face while Yoongi’s words circle his head.

But this — this is his big break. If he loses this, he loses any chances he has to further his modelling career from just being an available face to an actual person with a voice.

He has had future plans involving you, once he has this project in his grasp. He cannot let all of it go.

He recalls Yoongi’s advice, and tries to let you in — past all his walls.

“Baby, please,” he pleads, running up to you to grab onto your shoulders. He leans down to look into your eyes, letting go of every pretense that clings onto him as he looks at you desperately. “This isn't just work, Honey. This is the dream. You remember that sunscreen brand I’d auditioned for? This is their final audition.”

You suddenly look up at him with your eyes wide and brows hiked up. “What? You — you got to the final audition?” you exclaim, sounding stunned.

A small smile breaks out on Seokjin’s face. “Did you expect anything less?”

You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him close. “Congratulations, babe! I'm so proud of you! Oh, my God, you got to the final audition! I know you’ll rock this!” When you pull back your face is positively glowing. “And — and forget about dad’s birthday. Birthdays come every year. Big breaks don't,” you softly say, placing your palm on his chest to tell him you’re being sincere. “If you’d told me before, I…” You suddenly frown. “Speaking of, why didn’t you tell me before?”

Seokjin winces. “I planned to surprise you,” he sheepishly mumbles. “They had a lot of preliminary preparations I had to do. They even forced me to practice dancing!” he laments. “They had me and three other candidates running around the whole damn city to see how we’d fare as brand ambassadors. And now they’re gonna do a final beach shoot and add it in with our scores from the past few months. Let’s just hope I win it.”

You are looking at him with an unreadable expression on your face. “You, uh, you’ve been running around because of this project?”

Seokjin frowns. “Haven’t you noticed how busy I’ve been these past few months?”

“Oh, I’ve noticed. Just that… you always said you were busy with work.” You look small when you cross your arms and glance at your feet.

He shuffles closer to you and cups your face in his hands. “I just — I didn’t think it made any difference.”

You look up at him. “It does. We talked about this opportunity so excitedly! Remember that video call with your father?"

Seokjin squints. He doesn't talk to his family all that much, and they don't bother reaching out much, either. “Was it on father’s day?”

“Yes!” You nod. “I was so excited, I even told him all about it! Even when I wasn’t sure you’d even take it up!”

Seokjin gasps as it comes back to him. “I remember! My mom later called me to ask if I was starring in a movie, or something.” He snorts. “You’d hyped me up too much.”

“I was excited. And so am I, now. I didn’t know you’d actually gone through with it, least of all succeeded, baby. This was like a dream of mine, too, Jinnie. I'm so proud of you.” You lean up to press your lips against his.

Seokjin sighs into your mouth, arms winding around your waist as he kisses you back.

“Oh, my God! Finally!”

You two spring apart at the intrusion, and Seokjin shoots a glare at Jimin.

“What? It’s just good to see you together again,” the boy mumbles with a pout, slowly slinking towards his bedroom when Seokjin's glare keeps gardening.

You clear your throat after he has left.

“You know,” you mumble, “I’d been having a lot of confusion and doubts about our relationship, recently.”

Seokjin blinks. “Is that why you were so mad at me?” he softly asks. “Because I wasn’t prioritising you?”

You frown. “If you understood, why didn't you say anything before?”

Seokjin shrugs. "You can say I've only discovered it recently. Very recently. Like, less than an hour ago, recently."

You chuckle. "Well, at least you have discovered it."

"Honey," he slowly says, catching both of your hands in his as he pulls you closer. He looks at your delicate fingers. "I…have something to ask."

You hum. "Of course, baby. What is it?"

"Do you, um. Do you think that maybe… I could be, ah, more emotionally available? Like, more open and talkative about feelings, and that kind of stuff?"

You look at him with your eyes really wide, almost frozen in place. "Where's this coming from?"

You sound breathy.

Seokjin is very close to shitting his pants. Why do you look so horrified? Is he about to lose you? He's almost ready to tell you to forget it and move on when you squeeze his hands, encouragingly.

He licks his very dry lips with his somewhat dry tongue. "Just—just a little thinking and a few talks with Yoongi."

"Well, holy fuck, Seokjin, yes. Of course, yes! Absolutely, totally yes." You blink at him and it seems like you aren't even breathing. "I would very much appreciate that. Very, very much."

Seokjin exhales, chest falling in relief. "Really?"

"Yes, baby!" You nod, a huge grin overtaking your face. "If you really wanna work on doing that, I would be the happiest person on earth!"

Seokjin smiles. "I do wanna work on doing that, baby."

"Oh, God, Jinnie, I feel so happy." Your eyes brim with tears as you crush him into a hug.

He wraps his arms around you, inhaling your scent deeply and feeling his heart fill up with so much love.

Pulling away after just a moment, you look at him with narrowed eyes. "Can I also, maybe, put in a few additional requests?"

Seokjin narrows his own eyes, indulging your playfulness. "Depends. What did you have in mind?"

"Could you also exist with, like, one hair messed up on your head? Wear some clothes that don't fit you like a dream? Maybe stink a little? Sleep with your mouth open, drool a little?”

“What?”

“You’re like a Greek statue, my love! I’m trying to humanize you.”

Seokjin's eyes widen as he finally understands. This is exactly what Yoongi had said – Seokjin had made so many crazy assumptions about your preferences!

What the heck.

You just wanted him, the human him who can be the biggest clumsy fuck in the world.

"I'll – I'll try," he manages to say past a choked throat.

You gasp. "Are you about to cry?"

At his hesitant shrug, you squeal.

"Oh, my God, I can't wait for this! Come on!"

You tug at his hand with one hand and grab his plate of fruits in the other before dragging him upstairs, back to his room.

That Saturday, your more human and less Greek God statue of a boyfriend passes the audition.

You go on a date with the new face of one of the biggest sunscreen brands of today's day and age.

You drive around the unsettled outskirts of your city and aimlessly chat about everything. You discover your boyfriend can be a really huge bitching machine when he doesn't like someone.

You have a perfectly cute picnic date beneath a huge tree.

During which you proceed to nearly have a heart attack when your boyfriend suddenly drops to a knee in front of you and produces a small box, because—

"What the fuck, Seokjin? We're not getting married, I don’t—I'm sorry, I can’t, we're not ready for this!"

But then you cry because it isn't a ring, it's a key — the key to your very own shared apartment with your boyfriend that he has made the down payment for with his first big paycheck as a brand ambassador. You both would be able to move in in a couple of months, and you can not begin to explain how excited you are for this phase of your lives.

You make out in the car on your way back, and then it gets too heavy and you end up bouncing on his dick in your car, underneath a huge tree, in the middle of nowhere, and—

You cry after sex, crying in Seokjin's arms for the first time ever, and he kisses your forehead before he's sobbing with you, too, and you two are a gross mess of semen and tears and snot, but—

You have never felt more appreciated, loved and cared for, in your life.

You have never been more in love with Kim Seokjin, in your life – your big, clumsy, idiotic and yet somehow sexy dork of a boyfriend.

You won't have it any other way.

I just wanna, I just wanna know - If you're gonna, if you're gonna stay; I just gotta, I just gotta know That I can't have it, I can't have it - Any other way.

tagging: @shrimpmsg

note: OH MY GOD ITS DONE!!!!!! this fic has been one of the hardest plots that i’ve struggled to put in words, so far. i can’t believe i’m finally done posting it *sobs* (also, i realize how all the smuts i’ve written so far featured semi-public sex, lmaO idk how that’s happened, it’s not a specific kink of mine isTG! 😆)

also, this is my 400th post on this blog, so that’s exiting, ig? (lmao, 400 posts in 15 days, look at me go sksksks)

313 notes · View notes

wishesunderthestars · 4 years

Text

Eunoia // Ch. 11

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, injuries and blood

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

A/N: The taglist for Eunoia is now closed.

“Zayn, I promise I’m right around the corner,” you said into the phone. “I went home for lunch and it took a little more time than I had expected.”

You heard the singer laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s alright, you are always on time. I can excuse this one. You aren’t even that late.” You checked your phone to confirm what he was saying. Six minutes late. Not that bad.

“I could be a little earlier. I parked the car at the usual parking spot so I’m really just around the corner.” You looked back at Jimin. He had stopped walking and was looking behind him. Some shop window had probably caught his attention. There were many charming independent shops in the area. “By the way Jimin is with me, he wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“I don’t,” Zayn said. “I would like to see the lad again. You talk so much about him, about all of them really, it would be nice to actually see him instead of hearing about him.”

“I mean…” You paused. “C’mon, I don’t talk about them that much.”

Zayn huffed. “Keep telling yourself that. But I’ll let you have this one. Other than them and work, do you even have any other news?”

“I totally have other news.” Zayn waited. It was slightly worrying that you came up empty. “I’m drowning in work, okay? What other news would I have? Ehhh, have you met Astrid?”

In the short silence that followed, you could hear Zayn rolling his eyes. “Taylor’s hybrid is hardly news, she adopted her a month ago. You were literally together in Nashville. And did you forget I told you that last time I met up with Taylor Astrid was with her? Do you listen that well to what I’m saying?”

“Oh, right. I had wanted to come too, but you know work-” You were cut off by the sound of quick footsteps on the gravel behind you. Not many people wandered these streets. You turned back in time to see Jimin running in the opposite direction down the street. “Jimin!” You shouted. He didn’t stop. He should have heard you. With his hybrid hearing, he should have heard you. “I have to go. We’ll be more late.” You ended the call and took off.

You thanked whatever deities could hear you for deciding to wear sneakers instead of high heels to work. When you had important meetings with the higher ups of the film studios, you would dress nicer and high heels were etiquette at this point. Lucky for you, this day you didn’t have any meetings of that kind but rather a more active role as the director. High heels would only slow you down.

Chasing Jimin down the streets, you were glad nothing was slowing you down. You called his name again and again but he wouldn’t reply, just kept running. Your mind jumped to the worst things that could have happened. No one was chasing him, other than you. He wasn’t running away from someone, unless… Unless he was running away from you. But no. Jimin wouldn’t do that. He had no reason to run away from you. He had been a little strange before and something was certainly off but he wouldn’t run away.

You didn’t let yourself entertain the thought anymore, just put one foot in front of the other as fast as you could. Your heart was racing but it wasn’t solely because of running.

Around a corner, in a small alleyway nestled between a small art shop and a closed down building, Jimin had stopped. You stopped too. A large graffiti in blue spray paint read “The world isn’t fair, why should we be?”.

“Jimin?” you repeated quietly, it felt wrong shouting here.

Jimin was frozen in the middle of the alley, his eyes wide. His hands were fisted at his sides, they were shaking. Someone was standing against the wall.

Jimin went to take a step forward but a hiss stopped him. “Yoongi?”

“Step back,” the man said. Black cat-like ears were turned back, their fur blending into his pitch black hair. Narrowed dark eyes regarded Jimin. Jimin didn’t back down.

“Yoongi, it’s me,” Jimin said, albeit with a little less confidence. His eyes were open and vulnerable, staring at the other hybrid like he was a dream he was too afraid to wake up from, yet he wasn’t sure if he should call it a nightmare. “It’s Jimin, don’t you remember me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply. His shoulders were drawn high in tension, making more obvious the teared up fabric on his shoulder. It wasn’t the only tear on his clothes, his jeans were ripped in a way that didn’t look intentional and the hem of his shirt was torn and scuffed. One of his hands was tightly clutching a baseball cap. “Stay away from me.”

There was so much pain in Jimin’s eyes. All you wanted to do was gather him in your arms and hold him until it was gone, but something was holding you back.

“I looked for you. In the shelter and in the streets. I tried to find you for years.” Jimin’s lip trembled. “Where have you been?”

Yoongi looked away. “You don’t want to know.”

“Please,” Jimin whispered and you could hear the heartbreak in his voice. “I-I’m so sorry.”

That made Yoongi’s head shoot up. “You’re sorry? What-”

Just then, your phone started ringing. Both hybrids looked at you. Alarmed, Yoongi backed further into the alley. Perfect timing. You thought Zayn must be calling you, asking you what had happened and where you had gone, but it was Namjoon. Wary of the deadly glare Yoongi was sending your way, you declined the call.

“Who are you?” Yoongi hissed. The fur on his tail was standing on end and you could imagine him pouncing on you and tearing you apart with his teeth. You hadn’t been as nervous around a hybrid as you were at the moment. With Namjoon, it was more wariness than anything else. But this time a thread of fear was slithering up your arms. There was dried blood on Yoongi’s knuckles. There was no John this time and you didn’t have only yourself to worry about.

"She's my owner," Jimin replied for you. It wasn't the way you would have phrased it and Yoongi's eyes narrowed further until they were nothing more than twin slits. "Yoongi, please," he said again. You didn't know what he was pleading for.

"She's your owner?" Yoongi spat out the word like it was the worst of insults.

You had a very bad feeling about this.

Jimin clenched his jaw, standing up straighter. "She isn't like him, she's nothing like him. She saved me."

Yoongi didn't say anything. His back was one with the wall by now.

Jimin averted his gaze, shoulders slumping. "I-I missed you. I thought... I thought he had done something to you." He hugged his frame, making himself look smaller. "I thought he hurt you," the last words came out as a whimper.

Yoongi was quick to shake his head. "He didn't, he didn't hurt me. You shouldn't have worried about me. You shouldn't be thinking about me."

"But I was! I still am!"

Yoongi looked away, he didn't move from the wall. It was clear the two hybrids knew each other but there were too many things you couldn't make sense of. Yoongi must have been someone important to Jimin if he had chased him all the way here and by what they were saying he had something to do with Jimin's past owner. You had assumed Jimin had been alone with that vile man, you hadn't considered having someone there with him. Someone he seemed to care for. Maybe he had met him at one of those parties Jimin had mentioned his owner liked to take him to, or he was one of his friends' hybrid.

Your brain was in overdrive but your body was rooted on the spot. You didn't want to intrude but you were worried. Meanwhile, you only had limited time before you had to get back to work...

Stupid brain, you cursed. This was such an important moment for Jimin and here you were thinking about work.

“I have to go," Yoongi said, pulling himself away from the wall.

"No!" Jimin protested loudly, moving as if he was going to reach for the other hybrid. "I have been looking for you for years. Don't go. Please." He had been saying please a lot today.

Although Jimin didn't touch him, the other hybrid stopped, as if he was unable to leave Jimin behind when he was calling for him. His fists were clenched at his sides and you could see the dried up blood on his knuckles better. It looked like he had left the blood clog up for a day or more instead of cleaning it. It would be easy to get an infection, especially with the dirt and grime all over his clothes and skin.

"Is she treating you right?" Yoongi asked after a few moments of silence.

Jimin's eyes widened at the question, brimming with tears. You held your breath. "She's my family." He glanced at you. "She taught me how to cook. She takes care of us and she lets us dress any way we like. She lets us go out alone, too, I haven't yet but I could... We went to the lake and we stayed there all day and had a picnic and... and... I'm- I'm happy. I'm happy, Yoongi."

Yoongi lowered his head. "You deserve to be happy," he said quietly but even your human hearing picked it up. He took a step forward.

"Wait." You were surprised to hear your own voice. "You should disinfect your cuts, you could get sick if you leave them like this." Not your best, but enough to make his stop and look at you. Jimin gave you a hopeful look. "I have a medical kit in my car, I can clean them and if you want, then you can leave."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly. His hands were shaking. "You know how to give first aid?"

You nodded. "I have taken a few lessons, I know my way around it."

"She's really good," Jimin confirmed. Neither of you could forget the night you had met. Purplish bruises, stark white gauze and fearful eyes.

Yoongi's cat-like ears twitched. It didn't give you any specific answers as to the kind of hybrid he was. His tail was black as well, it stayed low as he contemplated your offer.

"I don't need your help, I'm fine, " Yoongi said. His eyes flickered to the other end of the alleyway. You could sense the internal battle going on inside him, vices gripping his body as he vibrated with something you were hesitant to call nervousness. His eyes locked with Jimin for a moment and his shoulder slumped slightly. "I don't need your help… but there is someone who does. Can you help him?"

You ignored the suspicious glare and gathered all your confidence. "I can do my best."

A small nod. "Go get your supplies."

He stayed glued to the spot so you turned to Jimin. You cupped his cheek gently and said, "I'm going to the car, I'll be back in a moment." The cat hybrid nodded and you speed-walked to the parking lot, thankfully it wasn't too far away. You would have run if you hadn't already been tired from chasing Jimin. You grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk before rushing back. It was a medium sized box, containing all the essentials, from gauze, band-aids and disinfectant to various pills, like Advil and Claritin. "I've got it," you said when you arrived back at the alleyway, finding the two of them in the same spots you had left them.

Yoongi glanced at you and the white medical kit, and then he was walking away. You took that as a sign to follow him. You slipped your hand in Jimin's, who gave you a small smile, and intertwined your fingers. This neighborhood housed one of your favorite coffee shops, the one you had planned to meet Zayn at, but you hadn’t wandered far from the quiet aesthetic streets with the colorful buildings and the tiny squares.

As you walked further away, the scenery changed. More graffiti appeared on the walls. Words dripping in red and black. Slurs and protests. You kept Jimin close to your side. After ten minutes of walking, Yoongi stopped in front of a two-story building. The door was hanging off from only one of its hinges, as if holding onto a thread. Shattered windows, peeling paint on the walls and pieces of white plastic sheets angling from seemingly random places didn’t leave any room for doubt whether the building was abandoned.

Yoongi slipped in through the half opened door and disappeared in the partial darkness inside. Two balconies were situated above the door on either side, parts of them chipped off. You were worried they would fall on your heads at any any moment. You tugged Jimin forward and twisted your body to get inside without touching the door or the wall. Jimin did the same and you were faced with an empty room. You couldn't see much, sunlight didn't get in the house properly and the plastic sheets prevented most of the rays from passing through.

The smell of rot drifted in the air and you could almost feel the dust swirling around. You resisted an instinctual cough. It was mostly in your mind, the feeling that dust was suffocating you, but your mind tricked your body quickly. You ignored it and walked further into the house, leaving footprints behind on the granite floor. The light got dimmer the further you went and your eyes had trouble adjusting. Jimin's eyesight was much better than yours and like cats he could see well in darkness.

One of the rooms, with the dirtied floral tapestry peeling off from the walls, opened up to a grand staircase. Once upon a time it must have been beautiful, polished wood shining under the light of the chandeliers. You could imagine balls taking place here, women wearing beautiful gowns and men in tuxes made by the biggest names in fashion, mingling and sharing drinks. Now, the room was a ghost of its former glory, a place that belonged in a horror film instead of a period drama.

Jimin's hand slipped from yours and you reached blindly for him. The room wasn't in total darkness but it was dark enough to make you nervous.

In all of your observation of the staircase you hadn't noticed that there was something in the space under the stairs. A boy was curled up on a ratty blanket so thin, it must have been doing nothing to shield him from the cold granite underneath. Yoongi was kneeling next to him but you couldn't make out his features or if he was talking or not. You were too far to hear anything and the building was by no means quiet (you had a suspicion that a family of mice or cockroaches had made its home somewhere inside and you prayed you were wrong). You approached cautiously.

"-alone. Please, don't go again. I'm fine," you could hear the boy saying as you got closer. His voice was croaky, from disuse or pain you weren't sure. He must have been the one Yoongi wanted you to help. You couldn't see him clearly but you could make out the ears peeking out from his hair. Another hybrid.

Yoongi was holding his hand. "You aren't fine, I had to do something. I brought help."

The boy hadn't noticed you so far, he must have been pretty bad if he didn't hear you coming in and didn’t notice your scent. When his eyes landed on you he only curled up tighter with a whimper.

"We're here to help you, not hurt you," you said, coming a little closer when Yoongi didn't hiss at you. You showed him the medical kit you were holding. "I only want to help if you let me."

He didn't uncurl from the ball he had created with his body but Yoongi looked at you expectantly. You knelt on the floor next to the blanket, ridiculously aware of the dust and grime your expensive pants must be gathering. Your mind was jumping from one place to the next so it wasn't surprising that for some reason it decided it was worth it to worry about dirtying your pants. With Yoongi's help, you coaxed him out of the ball so you could start treating him. After turning on the flashlight on your phone, you handed it to Jimin, instructing him to keep it steady while you worked.

The boy clenched his eyes shut at the light, you wondered how long he had stayed here in semi-darkness.

You opened the first aid kit and took stock of the supplies inside, everything was there. You didn't know the extent of his injuries but his labored breathing and sharp flinches whenever he moved told you enough. In the artificial light, you took a better look at the boy laying on the floor. His hair was a reddish shade of orange. A fluffy tail was half-hidden behind his body. A fox hybrid. You had never seen once before.

The awe and curiosity didn’t last long. Your eyes were drawn on his swollen eye, a shocking purple painting his skin. It wasn't the only place tainted with color. His cheek had a purplish bruise as well and his lips were cut in two places. A trail of blood had dried underneath his nose.

"I'll start with your face, okay?" you asked, but the hybrid didn't reply, he just tightened his hold on the blanket. Taking off his clothes, to tend to the rest of the injuries you were sure were hiding underneath, would only make him more uncomfortable. You pulled out a water bottle from your bag, you were always carrying one with you, and poured a small amount on a white cloth. Before the cloth could touch his face, you spoke up, "My name is Y/N. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Wide fearful eyes turned to Yoongi, who gestured vaguely with his hand. "H-Hoseok," the boy whispered.

"Hoseok," you repeated, testing the name on your tongue. "That's a nice name. I like the way it sounds." Gently, you dabbed the cloth on his bottom lip, the boy flinched at the contact. He didn't pull away so you continued. "I'm not a professional, I'm not a doctor or a nurse or anything. My profession is actually very different from that, though I did have to play nurse a few times. I would like to think I'm quite good at this by now. I've taken a few lessons, I was fascinated with first aid when I was younger. I don't even know why."

You continued speaking while tending to the wounds on his face. Earlier in your life you had discovered that talking, or at least listening to someone speak, would take the other's mind off the pain a little. By the time you were finished with his face, you had told him the whole story of how you had come to learn first aid and how you had panicked and forgotten everything you had learnt the first time someone had fainted in front of you, only remembering what to do when a friend of yours had pinched you. Hoseok listened to everything you said silently, his lips curling up a tiny bit at the last story. Maybe you exaggerated a bit and you made way too many hand gestures for someone supposed to be tending to his wounds but it seemed to be working.

Yoongi helped him pull off his shirt and you heard a gasp from behind you as his torso was revealed. His body was toned but a few of his ribs were pushing out in ways they probably shouldn't. It wasn't too bad but it was clear he hadn't been eating well for some time. But that wasn't the worst and it wasn't what you noticed first. Large bruises littered his body and what looked like the imprint of a hand was left on his bicep.

Switching topics, you told him about your first time coming to Los Angeles. Hoseok let out a breath as you started speaking again. As you checked his ribs, you recalled your very first days in the city, when you had been as excited as afraid to go to University in a brand new city where you had no friends. He hissed at the contact, but didn't object otherwise. You observed the way he breathed, taking note of the heavy bruising over his ribcage. You applied salve over the area and all the other bruises on his torso and the few on his back, the front had taken the blunt of whatever had happened. You had a suspicion but didn't speak of it yet.

His right arm was broken, he was holding it immobile close to his body. One touch and you were certain of it. Disinfecting a rather large cut on his arm, you wrapped it in gauze after coating the injury in a thin layer of cream. The cream smelled awful and was a sickly green color but you could testify to how effective it was. You did your best to make a cast for the arm, you hadn't done it before outside of a class and it was more of a struggle than you had expected. When his arm was secured in the cast, you trailed off your recounting of a stupid fight you had with one of your cousins that resulted in both of you getting lost. You were done. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you why you stopped.

"This is it, we're all done," you said, rubbing your hands together with hand sanitizer like you had before treating him. "When did he... get injured?"

"Why do you need to know?" Yoongi asked, at the same time as Hoseok croaked out, "Yesterday."

"What pill I give him to relieve the pain depends on when he got hurt. Some kinds could slow down the healing process if they are taken less than 48 hours after the injury." Digging into the small suitcase-like kit, you handed him two paracetamol tablets along with the water bottle. There was still had some water inside. "It will numb the pain, it takes about an hour to work," you explained.

Hoseok tentatively took the pills and bottle from you. He drunk the water in one gulp and you were reminded again that he might have gone without water for some time. "Thank you," he said, his eyes on the blanket.

You sighed, getting up from the floor and dusting off your pants. Just like you had expected, two white patches were left on your knees. "I'm afraid, other than a broken arm, you might have fractured one of your ribs. I noticed the area hurts more than the rest and you have some trouble breathing." Jimin who hadn't moved much while you were working, latched himself on your back. The situation was too familiar for him. The injuries, the smell of the disinfectant and the fear in Hoseok's eyes. And just like that night your heart was clenching, begging you to do more. It worked once, why wouldn't it again? The traitorous organ whispered.

Yoongi had sat on the blanket next to Hoseok, who had crawled closer to him, his side touching leg. The silence is broken as your phone starts ringing again. You had set it on silent so whoever is calling you must have made many attempts. You are expecting to see Namjoon's name flash on the screen with the wolf and moon emojis, but instead it is the name of one of the producers.

While tending to Hoseok, you had almost forgotten you had to be at work after the supposedly short trip to the coffee shop. You had to take this. At the other side of the staircase, close to a door that led to what must have been a dining room once, you answered the call.

Everyone had been looking for you, worried about your absence. You had never been late to work before, often you would show up before you were scheduled to, in order to get some additional work done. Three missed call, that's how many times just the producer had called you. His worry soon turned into irritation, asking you why you didn't inform them and why you weren't answering your phone. They had called everyone close to you to find out what had happened and no one had any answers.

You were more than an hour late. An hour you were supposed to spend guiding the actors and getting the first feeling of a few scenes. Those plans went down the drain.

You peeked over the railing of the staircase. Jimin was standing closer to the space Hoseok was laying under the stairs. They were talking but they were being quiet and you couldn't hear what they were saying over the loud voice of the producer coming from the phone and your own too loud thoughts. You tried to explain yourself, staying as close to the truth as possible, which was admittedly difficult. In the end, you used the personal emergency card. Although the producer didn't sound convinced, he let you off, scolding you half-heartedly about calling next time instead of leaving them in the dark looking for you and thinking about the worst.

Ending the call, you looked through all the ones you missed and the texts they had sent you. You replied to a few of the texts, giving the same answer as you had to the producer. There were several from Zayn, asking where you were and if you were okay. In the final one he asked you to call him as soon as you could. Guilt gnawed at your insides. You had left him alone waiting for you for forty minutes, until he was sure there was no chance of you coming. You were an awful friend. Namjoon had also sent you a few messages. Someone had called the land-line at your house. No word from you. You and Jimin had both disappeared. Cradling your heavy heart, you sent a message to Namjoon assuring him that Jimin was with you and you were both alright. You hoped that would be enough for now.

Pocketing your phone you walked around the stairs. Closer to them you could pick up parts of their conversation. Yoongi and Jimin were arguing, silent tears streaming down Jimin's face. You held yourself back from running to him and pulling him away from whatever was hurting him. This was Jimin's battle, you would let him fight it. He rarely spoke of the demons of his past but they were many and frightening with long claws and sharp teeth.

Jimin suddenly reached for your hands. "Tell them, tell them to come home with us. Please, they can't stay here. We have a lot of space in the house, they can take one of the rooms until he heals."

Your mouth was faster than your brain. That was a problem you didn't have to worry about before but something was changing. "They can come home with us if they want." Yoongi hissed, ready to protest. "A fractured rib isn't a trivial matter, he would need medical supervision but I can guess you don't want to go to a hospital. I can tend to it until he gets better, he will need medication to relieve the pain and plenty of bed rest. This place will only slow his healing."

"Yoongi, please. Let me..." He stopped with a sniffle. "Just come with us. I need you to come with us." That seemed to break any of the resolve the older hybrid had. Hoseok didn't react at all, remaining curled in on himself.

"Okay, we'll come," Yoongi said. "We'll come, but we'll leave as soon as he's better.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It should be way more surprising when you show up at the Castle with Jimin and two unfamiliar hybrids in tow. The initial surprise lasted only a few minutes before everyone just sort of accepts this. Namjoon was the most wary but you couldn't blame him, his instincts were screaming to protect his pack and while Hoseok in his condition was by no means a threat, Yoongi didn't exactly look friendly. Jungkook had hopped away soon after with Jin. The bunny hybrid wasn’t good with strangers. You suspected that he had inherited some bunny instincts that made him jumpy and easily afraid around predators.

You led the two new hybrids to the guest room with the two queen beds on the second floor, and like you had with Jin, you gave them the key. Yoongi looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything. Hoseok fell asleep as soon as his body hit the soft mattress. Their reaction to the house had been similar to most people’s. Wide eyes and disbelief. It didn’t serve to calm Yoongi down, instead he looked like you had been leading him straight into some sort of trap.

Jimin stuck close to you as you called John from your office. He was one of the first people your team had called, it just happened that the day they needed him was the day he hadn't accompanied you. He was fuming when he answered, worried out of his mind and, unlike the producer, he didn't let you off easily. You had been rash, forgot about any rational thoughts, put yourself and Jimin in danger, didn't call anyone for backup in case something happened. Those hybrids could have been serial killers for all you knew. The list went on and on.

"I'm coming over as soon as I can," he said. "I have to see those hybrids for myself. You can't just go around picking up hybrids like they are new projects. What mess have you gotten yourself in this time?"

"Hopefully, not too big of one," you muttered. "You don't have to come, really. I've got everything under control and it's your week off. I took the rest of the day off so I'll be home. I swear I'll call you if anything happens."

"There is no way I'm leaving you in the house with two hybrids you just picked up from the street and decided to nurse back to health-"

"One of them is fine," you interrupted him.

Yoongi didn't have any visible injuries other than his bloody knuckles and a slit lip he wouldn't let you touch. Even if he had more, there was no way he would let you tend to them.

"And that makes it better how?" John asked. "I mean, good for him he isn't injured, but that doesn't guarantee your safety. If he is fine, he could try something. Don't forget that hybrid's have human DNA too, there are bad apples regardless of how much you want to keep looking at the good ones. Just because it worked once, doesn't mean it will work again. "

Jimin was sitting on the edge of your desk, his head tilted to the side. He could hear everything with his hearing. You ruffled his blond hair and he leaned into your touch. "It isn't the same," you said.

"Isn't it? It sounds awfully a lot like something I've heard before." John sighed. "It isn't that I don't trust your judgment, but lately you act then ask questions lately. I trust you but I don't trust everyone you take into your house. They could take all of your jewelry before they disappear or it could be much much worse."

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely defenseless." The first years John was assigned to you, he had decided to teach you the basics of self-defense. He couldn't always be with you and you hadn't been able to throw a punch to save your life. The lessons had paid off and, although you were no black belt student, you could defend yourself to an extent if you had to. "I'm serious, you don't have to come over. What about Alice? She wouldn't want her father running off when he promised her he would spend the week with her."

John huffed. "You are evil, using my daughter against me."

"I will add it to my resume," you said. "I'm alright and I'm going to be alright. You know I'm not alone, if anything happens we can count on each other, and you can come in a few days when your break is over and check in."

"I'll accept this only because I have heard Namjoon growl when he thinks someone in his pack is threatened," you felt warmth seep in your cheeks when John mentioned so casually that you were part of their pack, "and Jungkook has gained enough muscle in the last few months to launch a nice punch if he needs to protect himself or someone." It was difficult to imagine your sweet bunny hybrid punching anyone, especially given the way you had found him, but it was true that the time he spent in the gym paid off.

John didn't come over. He stayed with his daughter because he had promised they would go to the zoo together as soon as she woke up from her afternoon nap. You went through a few papers after the phone call, reassuring yourself multiple times that the whole TV show wouldn’t crumble because you had taken one day off work (you really needed to work on your sense of self-importance). Jimin had turned his body on the desk so he could see what you were doing without taking up too much space.

They would be fine without you. The conclusion wasn't hard to reach but you had tortured yourself a lot over it. Missing days of work was almost unheard for you. You scheduled your life around your work schedule, the breaks were on specific dates and you didn't need to take extra ones. To miss work, you had to be so sick you couldn't get out of bed without fainting.

You put the papers in their respective folders and placed them back on the bookshelves. "Now that we are alone, do you think you can tell me what happened?" you asked, feeling Jimin's eyes on your back.

"I-" He averted his gaze, his fingers wrapping and unwrapping on the hem of his shirt, wrinkles forming on the material and smoothing out again. "I'm sorry."

You walked around the desk, coming closer to him. "That's not what I wanted to hear. A warning before taking off would have been nice, though. My mind went to the worst possibility and you wouldn't answer my calls or wait for me."

Jimin was about to apologize but stopped himself. "I couldn't lose him. I couldn't stop running, I couldn't lose him again. I couldn't really hear you... It was like a fog was over everything other than the path I was following. I needed to make sure it was Yoongi, that he was alright."

You touched Jimin's thighs, situating him better on the desk so you were standing between his legs. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He hesitated before reaching for your hand and holding it in his. He brought it close to his face and started nuzzling on your wrist. He had told you your scent calmed him and he liked it when your scents mingled. Placing a kiss on the center of your wrist, he pulled back a little, keeping your hand in his.

"He was there, in my old house," he said. "I was around sixteen when he was brought in. My owner didn't say why he was there but Yoongi is a panther hybrid, he could brag about him to his friend and he was also a guard. He was supposed to be protecting the house, to be protecting me. I was all alone there and then I wasn't. He was suddenly there and I wanted a friend so bad. Yoongi was gentle and he was kind, he would stay with me when I was feeling lonely. He cooked for me when he could, the food was delicious. I remember loving it but I'm not sure it was because of the food itself or because he was the one who had cooked it. Maybe both." He lowered his head, his cat ears pinned to his head. "We did something. We did something very bad. He took Yoongi away and I was returned to the adoption center. I never learnt what he did to him. I thought..." His voice cracked.

You shushed him, stepping even closer and taking his into your arms. He wrapped his arms around your neck pulling you against his chest. "He's alright. You're safe here. This is a safe place."

"I know," he mumbled into your shoulder. "I know."

You cupped his neck with one hand, rubbing small circles with your thumb on his neck. "Do you trust him? Do you trust him to stay here until Hoseok recovers?"

He nodded. "I trust him, I would trust him with my life."

You held him in silence for some time, just feeling him breath against your chest. "What did you do with Yoongi?" you asked, curious. Jimin stiffened, you felt like he was holding his breath. "You don't have to tell me."

His body relaxed a little, leaning on you. "I can't, we shouldn't have done it. We betrayed him. I couldn't hold myself back, I was weak. I'm stronger now, I promise. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if your hated me."

What he said made you jolt back. Jimin whined lowly but you were quick to cup his soft cheek. "I could never hate you. Nothing in this world could make me hate you," you said, gazing into his watery eyes. Even with tears threatening to fall, he looked beautiful. "My Jiminie. Nothing you say will ever change my feelings about you. Your past doesn't define you. Whatever you did to that man, he deserved it."

"But you don't."

You didn't understand what he meant. "What?" You looked into his eyes but you only found sadness there. The small smile on his lips hurt more than his tears would.

He sniffled. "Don't leave me. Don't throw me away," he pleaded.

You squeezed his thigh, leaning your forehead against his. "Never, I'll never leave you. I will always watch over you, I swear."

“I’m not worth it. I’m not worthy of the care you give me,” he whimpered.

“You are. You are worth everything and so much more.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Namjoon was sitting on the largest couch in the living room, a documentary about ocean life playing on TV. His ears twitched a little when he heard you climbing up the stairs. You stayed standing for a moment, watching the screen as a blue whale emerged from the water shooting up a water water spray like a fountain. Their tails flapped against the water. Such magnificent creatures. They were endangered species, the man speaking explained, hunted and killed for their meat and blubber. On top of that, pollution, vessel strikes, entanglement in traps and nets and more.

If there was one thing humans knew how to do is destroy beautiful things.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked.

You shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be asking that? Or some variation of it?” You turned away from the screen and settled on the couch, leaving some distance between you. “I didn’t have the chance to ask you before springing this on you.”

“I can handle it, I think,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t think Jimin left you much of a choice if he ran after him. If his mind is set on something, he won’t stop until he gets it.”

“Do you know anything about him? Yoongi? Jimin told me some things but he doesn’t want to say everything.”

Namjoon shook his head. “I didn’t even know he existed until now. Jimin never mentioned it. He doesn’t like talking about his past. I can understand, but then things like this happen. I just wish he shared more with us, so we could help him.”

“I know,” you agreed. “I feel the same. But it’s only temporary. In about a week Hoseok will be well enough to go. Not completely healed, that could take up to a month or more, but he will be better.”

He cracked a small smile. “You can’t really stand there doing nothing, can you?”

You couldn’t, could you? You had always been one to try to help in any way you could. It didn’t matter what the problem was, you wanted to help. An issue at work, a dilemma one of your friends was facing, human rights, poverty, hunger. Homeless injured hybrids. But you usually were careful, you would think the problem over, review all the points and then try to find a solution.

Since when did you throw caution to the wind?

You liked to pride yourself on your mind. You could see the things other people couldn’t and laid new paths when others hadn’t bothered to stray a foot from the blocked road. It felt like you were slipping.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you said, hiding your face in your hands. “Jimin was so sad and Hoseok’s ribs are fractured-”

Namjoon cut you off by tugging at your arm. He pulled you closer to him. “I trust you, you know I trust you.”

“That doesn’t always make things better,” you said, laying your head on his shoulder. “What if I’m wrong? What if you trusted me and I’m wrong? And, I don’t know, something really bad happens.”

“Then we’ll face the consequences together.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll tell you if I think you’re wrong and we will work it out. Now, I’m not sure. We don’t know what happened or why one of them has fractured ribs and a broken arm. I saw the blood on Yoongi’s hands. All we know is that he was part of Jimin’s past.”

The screen was darker as lion fish were swimming around the bottom of the sea, illuminated by blue light. They weren’t afraid of the diver, aware of the poison in their back spines, the narrator said.

You shuffled around a little, getting comfortable on Namjoon’s side. His arm snaked around your waist, settling on your hip. The words unsaid between the two of you were choking you.

“Jungkook came to me earlier,” he said. “He was crying. He told me he had done something horrible, something he couldn’t forgive himself for. It took me hours to calm him down. He said I needed to find Jimin and make sure he was okay. After what he had done, Jungkook said he wouldn’t want to see him again.”

You frowned. “Jungkook said that?” That sounded nothing like the sweet boy you knew. Sure, Jungkook liked joking around, teasing all of you and he could be very stubborn. But he looked at Jimin like he was his muse and whatever he created would be bland and pointless without him. “Jimin caught me last minute before I left the house. He didn’t look well, he was panicked. It was like he was trying to escape something. He didn’t tell me what happened and I didn’t want to push him and make things worse. Where is Jungkook?"

“At the atelier, Jin is there with him. I don't know what we'd do without him," Namjoon said. You agreed. Jin had slotted into your lives like he was always meant to be there. "What about Jimin? Wasn't he with you?"

"He came with me to my office, before I came upstairs he said he was tired and he left to go to your room."

The sun was setting outside, the sky turning navy as the colors of the day receded. You felt like only a few minutes ago you had been about to walk out the door to meet up with Zayn.

Namjoon's hand was rubbing your arm up and down, the touch calming something deep inside you. You had so many questions, so many doubts about what you were doing. There were so many ways this could go wrong. Jimin was in a fragile state. If what Jungkook had told Namjoon was true to some extent, Jimin would be in a really bad place. On top of that, a person from his past showing up could ruin all his progress. Most of all, you were afraid your Jimin would get hurt.

"You're thinking too loud again."

You groaned, burying your head in his shoulder. "I'm not." You turned to the TV trying to erase the look on your face. The deepest parts of the sea were home to so many creatures. Small and large, all of them had adapted to live in darkness. Adapting. Such an interesting skill.

You squirmed in Namjoon's arms, he loosened his hold on you so you could sit up straighter. You hadn't talked about the night when you had been beating yourself up for saying the wrong thing, Jin's retreating form, head lowered, haunting you. Namjoon had a way to make your brain go quiet, something you hadn't learnt how to do regardless of how much you tried. You had been floating and for once you had fallen asleep without tossing and turning.

But you hadn't talked and you couldn't decide if it was better that way or if it would only serve to torment you further. The doubts came, like they always did, and you weren't ready to deflect them.

Namjoon's clever eyes were on you as you traced invisible swirls from his shoulder, his neck and up his face. Your knuckles ran over his cheek in a feather-light touch. His hand covered yours, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

"Can I?" he asked, leaning closer. You could do nothing but nod. His lips touched yours gently at first, before both of you got lost in the feeling. This kind of kissing was reserved for books and movies, it wasn't something that was supposed to happen in real life and yet... How could you settle for anything less after this?

This, this was something you could write about. Something to fill up all those blank pages taunting you. Paragraphs upon paragraphs attempting to describe that feeling spreading through your whole body. You could spend your whole life trying to put this moment into words and it would be worth it.

You pulled back. A flush had crept up on Namjoon's cheeks and his hair was mussed. You probably didn't look any better. Hopefully, your makeup could cover any redness on your skin.

Your hand was still in his, held against his cheek.

"What are we doing?" you asked him, breathy from the kiss that had overtaken your whole being. "What does this mean?"

"What do you want this to be?"

Your lips twitched up. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

Namjoon combed a hand through your hair, twisting a strand loosely around his fingers before letting go. "It can mean whatever we want it to mean. Whatever we need it to be."

On a moment, his back straightened and he looked at the stairs. You followed his gaze but saw nothing. A few seconds later, your human ears were able to pick up steps climbing up the staircase. You got up from the couch and straightened the wrinkles on your clothes. An itch to change into clean clothes nagged at you, preferably after taking a nice long shower, but there were still things needed to be done.

Black hair was the first thing you saw before the rest of Jin came into view, but you had already guessed who it was by the careful steps he was taking. Living with them, you could distinguish between the ways they climbed up the stairs. Jungkook ran up, eager to reach his destination. Jimin occasionally skipped some steps, light on his feet like he was floating his way up. Namjoon's step were light as well and he was the most likely to miss, stalking up the stairs silently as if on a hunt. Jin was careful and measured in everything he did and this was no different.

The sugar glider hybrid glanced around, his eyes landing on the two of you in the living room. He shifted his weight on his feet.

"Hey," you said softly, coming closer. "Is Jungkook still in the atelier ?"

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, even though he tended to stick to the other hybrids like glue. Whatever had happened earlier was enough to make him change his habits.

"He's in the middle of a painting," Jin said, biting his bottom lip. It was obvious he was worried as well, but trying to make excuses for the youngest. "I'm going to cook dinner."

The sun had set by now but you couldn't comprehend how late it had gotten. Time to make dinner. On an average work day you would be wrapping up now and checking off the tasks you had completed, making sure everything was going according to plan before leaving.

"I'll help you then," you said, nudging his hands with yours. The two of you go to the kitchen and Jin starts pulling out bowls from the cupboards. "What are we making?"

Jin paused. "Now that you're here, we can make whatever you want. But I can cook. You should rest, you must be tired."

"No more tired than usual." It was true in a weird way. Your body was actually feeling less like it would need to sleep for a week to restore all its functions and more like something heavy you didn't recognize had wrapped itself around your shoulders. "You? How are you feeling?"

Jin fiddled with one of the bowls. "I'm alright."

On a couple shelves, away from where most of the action took place, your cookbooks were lined in neat rows. You picked up one of your favorites, the well-known chef smiling at you from the cover.

"It's okay if you aren't," you said. "It was very unexpected. It'd be understandable if you felt uncomfortable or upset. I didn't get a chance to warn you before bringing practically two strangers into your home."

The bowl was apparently very fascinating for Jin because he was looking nowhere else as he forced a smile. "I couldn't be upset. I was a stranger coming here, too."

You left the cookbook on the counter. "The circumstances were different. I had called the others before adopting you and we had all agreed that I would bring you home with me. I adopted you, you came to stay. They will be leaving soon."

"It's just... I'm not used to strangers," he admitted.

You moved around the kitchen island, standing next to him. You gave him space in case he wanted to move away but he only leaned closer to you. "This is your home and all I want for you is to feel safe here. I'm sorry I didn't call you to ask before bringing them here. I don't want you to act like you don't mind if you actually do. You have a right to be upset."

You brought your foreheads together, rubbing gently. A rare purr escaped Jin and although his cheeks reddened he didn't pull away at the sound like he used to do.

The kitchen filled with noise as you started preparing the dishes. You had decided on chicken with honey and garlic as the main dish and you would make a few side-dishes because you didn't know what the new hybrids liked to eat. Halfway through, when you had added the honey, the diced garlic and the soy sauce in the pan, the itch under your skin got too long and you left to go shower.

Washing away the day felt almost cathartic. The worst parts of it falling down the drain. It was your favorite part of coming home, second only to seeing your hybrids and spending time with them. Freshly washed and dressed into sweatpants and a comfortable top, you got out of your room. Dinner wasn't ready yet but Jin didn't need any more help. Any other day you would get your laptop and open one of the files in your to-do-list but this time you climbed down the stairs to the second level.

Knocking on the door, you took a step back and waited.

"Who is it?" a gruff voice you recognized as Yoongi's called from inside.

"It's Y/N." You didn't elaborate further, curious to see what he would do. Contrary to what you had expected, you heard the key being turned. The door opened, Yoongi peeking at you through the crack.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner is almost ready," you said. "I came to check in on you. Has Hoseok woken up? I wanted to see how well the medication worked."

You could sense Yoongi contemplating shutting the door in your face before a small voice from inside said, "I'm awake."

Yoongi muttered under his breath but opened the door further letting you in. The room was mostly untouched, only the bed Hoseok had been sleeping in gave an indication that someone had been inside. Yoongi had taken a shower but changed back into his own clothes, which he had pulled out from the small duffel bag. The green duffel bag, as worn as their clothes, was the only thing they had carried with them. It was small and certainly not enough for two people to live out of.

Hoseok was laying on the bed, making himself as small as he could without aggravating his injuries. In the hand that wasn't in the cast, he was clinging to the blanket he had with him in the abandoned building. It desperately needed to be washed but you weren't sure it could be salvaged. The light in the room was in the lower setting not to aggravate his eyes. His fluffy tail was curled around his waist, dirt staining it and parts sticking together with grime.

He stuttered answering your questions but overall he looked better. The granite floor with only a thin blanket to lay on wasn't a place someone could actually rest on. You offered to bring him some clothes to change into. Unlike Yoongi, he accepted.

Jacob's clothes had really come in handy. You would have never guessed that you would find a use for them when he left them behind. You had even considered throwing them out at one of your lowest points. Jacob's promise to remain friends and the excuse he would be coming over had been proven a lie or just wistful thinking. They weren't taking too much space, considering how large your closet was, but you had no use for them but sentimental memories you no longer needed. Until February, that is.

Some of Namjoon's clothes would fit Hoseok better, but you dismissed the idea without considering it. The hybrid's scent would be too prominent on the clothes. Jimin liked wearing the others' clothes because he claimed he loved being enveloped in their scents. It was also the reason he had stolen one of your hoodies that fit him and refused to give it back.

Jacob's scent had faded from his clothes after so many months, Namjoon had confirmed it. He had left in early December, five months had come and passed since then. You could remember the months leading up to the break up. It wasn't the fights, there weren't many of them, but the silence and the distance that had broken you. You had been at work all day and he had been at the studio. When he went out you either couldn't go because you were busy or you were too tired to. He didn't get your hobbies. He wasn't a fan of reading and he didn't let you listen to his tracks before they were ready. You weren't good at giving feedback, he had told you laughing after you had said the track felt like something was missing in the chorus. You had been getting further and further apart for more than a year. The house was but a way to fool yourself that everything was alright.

Yoongi had helped Hoseok shower, following your advice to not ruin the cast on his arm and wet the bandages you had wrapped around some of the deeper wounds.

Dinner was different. You had carried two trays down with Jin's help for the two hybrids. It was better for Hoseok not to move and even if he could, Yoongi wouldn't be thrilled at the idea. Jungkook didn't come up for dinner. He wouldn't leave the atelier and Jin carried another tray to him, because there was no way he would let him go without eating. Jimin asked after him. He didn't speak for the rest of dinner picking up the food on his plate with a guilty expression on his face.

John did come the next morning. He didn't press and didn't threaten anyone, not that you had expected him to but it was a relief nonetheless. John was an intimidating man with his height and bulkiness. Yoongi hissed, backing into a corner when he saw him. John looked him up and down, taking in his split lip, the bruises and his worn clothes, and then showed you a picture of his daughter on his phone. Yoongi regarded him for a little longer before disappearing again.

Jungkook and Jimin were avoiding each other. Jungkook did everything in his power not to find himself in the same room as Jimin, getting up and leaving whenever Jimin entered. The hurt on Jimin's face was heartbreaking every time it happened. You tried to comfort him but you couldn't do much when you were gone most of the day and you had to check Hoseok's injuries every morning and night.

You were in your office scanning a few documents when the email was delivered. Your hand froze, unable to comprehend the contents at first.

There was a knock on the half-opened door. Namjoon walked inside. "Are you coming for dinner?"

You looked up from your phone. "I have to go to Virginia the day after tomorrow."

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jikook #yoonmin #sope

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atlatus · 3 years

Text

Disease

Character: Xiao

Pronouns: They/them

Post type: Angst

The green haired man opens his eyes to an unfamiliar scenery. He was on the ground, trees covering his surroundings, he can't seem to remember how he got here. Pushing himself up with his arms, he stands up, walking towards the crowd of trees.

While walking through the forest, he finally sees light. The adeptus runs towards it, arriving to see unusual contraptions¹ that he has never seen before. He furrows his eyebrows, 'Where am I? What is this place?' Due to his unusual appearance and clothing, a bystander unsurprisingly notices him. "Excuse me sir, are you perhaps lost?" He turns around, his eyes narrowing, "Who are you?" They're eyes widen, "Oh, sorry! I haven't introduced myself. My name's (F/N)." They smile.

He looks at them suspiciously, ". . . . My name is Xiao." (F/N)'s eyes widen a bit before smiling, "What a nice name! Won't you come with me? It's a bit cold out tonight." They propose. Though the adeptus is cautious, he nods. They giggle, holding out their hand, "Now, let's get you somewhere warm."

After about 2 weeks with Xiao, you decided to try and convince your parents to get him into to your school. Even though you're quite calm most of the time, you were determined to convince them. Your parents sigh before nodding, beaming with excitement, you rush to the guest room. Knocking on the door frantically, Xiao opens it, clearly agitated. "What do you want?" You smile, "Hey hey! You're going to my school now!"

He furrows his eyebrows, "I don't see the reason for me to go to school." Pushing the door the close it but you caught it with your foot, "C'mon~, it won't be that bad." You say. He rolls his eyes sighing before nodding. Your heart beats with excitement.

Xiao's first day in school has finally arrived, wearing different clothes made him itch a bit. He's isn't used to this type of attire.

Looking up at the school, surprised at the size of it. His face made you giggle a bit, "Alright, let's go." They both walk up to the entrance, you open the door for him. He narrows his eyes a bit before continuing on through the hallway. Immediately, people started noticing him, some observing his face while others looked more shocked.

'Hey doesn't that guy look like that character in Genshin?'

'Is he a cosplayer or something?'

'I have to take a picture with him!'

'Oh my god, he looks so cute!'

The whispering got louder and louder, 'Why is everyone staring at me like that?' Finally arriving to his classroom, you both enter. The sound of the door opening got the attention of everyone, the teacher looked over at the door, "Ah, you must be the new student! I'm Mr. Johnson, I'll be your teacher this school year!"

Xiao looked uneasy and uncomfortable, you quickly pat him on the back before sending him a reassuring smile, quietly telling him "It'll be alright."

"Now, would you mind introducing yourself?" The green haired man nods a bit before saying, "My name is Xiao, it's a pleasure to meet you." Some people in the classroom start whispering to their friends, "Oh my god, no way is it actually him?" "How did he even get here?" They were beaming with excitement.

"Well, nice to meet you Xiao! Why don't you sit next to your friend there. They sit at the corner seat over there." You smile before guiding him to where you're sitting. The teacher quickly quiets the class down before starting the lesson.

Xiao unsurprisingly got popular, many people would crowd around him to either talk to him, ask to hang out, or take pictures. He was quickly overwhelmed with the attention but got used to it after a few days. He started gaining friends fast and wasn't able to be with you anymore. Though you are glad he's happy, you can't brush off the feeling in the pit of your stomach. It feels like thorns poking in your chest and throat. You despised it. Not only did it hurt, but it made you feel like throwing up.

Everyday, you miss his conversations with you. Watching from afar with jealousy evident in your eyes. It's the same cycle everyday, people crowding him when you both arrive to the school. He

doesn't even look at you anymore. You feel like a ghost, no one acknowledging your existence, you're basically just. . . there.

One day, the urge to throw up made you lurch forward, putting a hand on your lips. You stand up quickly before running to the restroom. Kneeling down in front of the toilet, you throw up the, coughing and gagging. You look in the toilet bowl, eyes suddenly going wide. 'Flowers? What the hell-' Panic quickly flows through your body, 'What is this? Am I gonna die?' You reach for your phone in your pocket, searching up 'throwing up flowers'. The first result is something called the Hanahaki Disease. The article states that, "Hanahaki disease is a disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated." Your eyes scan through the article again, 'Unrequited or one-sided love?' You start to panic again, 'I won't be able to breath if this is untreated?' Your breathing becomes uneven and shaky, your expression suddenly turns into one that's sad, 'Does this mean Xiao. . . doesn't like me back?. . .'

Looking at the article again, you see 'cures for the disease', "Hanahaki can be cured through surgical removal of the plants' roots, but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient's feelings for and memories of the enamoured. It can also be cured by the reciprocation of the victim's feelings. These feelings cannot be feelings of friendship but must be feelings of genuine love."

'I can get them surgically removed, but, what's the point? I'll lose my feelings for him. I don't want to. I like it when my heart thumps whenever he smiles, or whenever he pouts in embarrassment due to a teasing comment from me. I don't.. I don't want these feelings to end.'

The ongoing thought of you losing your feelings for him made you cringe. '

Is it too late?'

Throughout a month, the condition only got worse. Throwing up these petals made you feel sick, it feels like God is planning to take your life right then and there. Xiao doesn't even talk to you anymore, you see him in the house sometimes but he's outside most of the time. The disease affected your mental and physical health, you were noticeably skinny and tired. The bags under your eyes proved it. Your parents have tried to talk to you about it but, you refuse to say anything.

The desire to keep feeling love made you like this. Your grades have dropped and now you lost all your friends, they're all too caught up with Xiao. At this point, you gave up on getting help. This whole situation will end when you die. You plan to talk to Xiao once more before you pass.

Two months. . .

It's been two months now. . .

The condition worsened greatly. Flower petals littered your room. You looked sickly, almost like a dead body. Well, that's what you're going to be in a couple days. . .

Using all your strength, you lift yourself up. "Need. . to go. . talk to. . Xiao." Right now, Xiao was with his friends. Luckily, you slipped a note in his locker the day before-

Meet me on top of hill tomorrow at 5:30 p.m.

- Sincerely, (F/N)

You had followed him when he opened his locker, he shrugged before stuffing the note into his backpack. You hoped that he would listen to it. If he doesn't show up today, you'll die happily knowing he is happy without you. His happiness is more important than your feelings or life.

You arrived at the hill. Looking at your watch, '5:15. Guess I'm early.' You sit down on top of it, looking at the sun slowly setting.

After a few minutes, you hear footsteps. Turning around, you see Xiao, his face neutral and calm. He then sat beside you, "So, what did you need?" He asks. You look back at the sun before smiling, "Have you enjoyed your time here?" Though your throat is aching, you still managed to say something.

He seems confused, "Of course I have. I've never been this

happy. ." Knowing he's happy made you feel relieved. To think that you found him in front of a forest, confused and cautious. It almost made you tear up.

"I'm happy that you are, Xiao."

You both stay silent, "Xiao, before I go, whatever happens after, promise me you'll be happy. I can't stand seeing you with a frown." You say with a raspy voice.

". . .Of course."

You find yourself laying on a hospital bed. You try to move but your body is too sore. Your ears perked up to muffled talking, "I'm sorry sir, ma'am but the kid is going to be gone soon. The Hanahaki disease already clogged up most of the patients lungs. We can either surgically remove it or-" The doctor was quickly cut off, "Surgically remove it! Please save them! Just remove the damn flowers, please!" You heard your mom scream.

"Ma'am, we have to get the patients consent. Removing the flowers will cause the patients enamored feelings for their-" The doctor was cut off once again, "I don't care anymore! Just please, save my kid!"

The argument was ongoing before you stored up all your strength and spoke, "M-mom. . . I don't want my. . . feelings to go. . . away." Your voice was barely audible, but they heard it. Your mom rushes over to your bed (despite the doctors warnings), "(F/N)! Don't be like that! Your life is more important!"

Tears start welling up your mom's eyes, "Please don't leave us. . ."

You stare at her before smiling, "It's okay mom, besides-" You cough, "It's already. . . too late." Despair was evident in your mothers face.

"Oh and. . . before I go. . . tell Xiao to stay happy. . . and that I love him."

The lights started to go dim, eyes slowly closing before your slow breathing stopped-

Permanently.

Your funeral was held at a nearby cemetery. Your coffin was the color brown, a glass covering the top of it so they could see you. Xiao was there, staring at your face. When he got the news that you died, his world fell apart. He thought this was just some sick joke, but the body in the coffin proved him wrong. He could faintly see flower petals near your mouth.

Your funeral and seeing your body is what made Xiao cry and scream out in agony and sadness. "No No NO! (F/N) don't leave me!! Please tell me this is a joke please! (F/N)! I love you please don't leave!"

He prayed and prayed that you would wake up. . .

But his prayers weren't heard.

One week after your funeral, Xiao's whole demeanor changed. He was a calm boy who would speak only when spoken to. But now, he doesn't speak. He ignores all his friends, he ignores your parents, he ignores everyone. He stays cooped up in your room. Sleeping on your bed and smelling your scent that lingers on it. Oh how he misses talking to you, your bright smile was what made him feel alive.

He was laying on your bed one day (as usual) and for some reason, he felt a bit sick. He brushed it off thinking it would go away in a few hours. But it only got worse.

He rushes to the bathroom then looks at the mirror. He looks terrible, bags under his eyes and skin looking a bit pale. He suddenly lurches forward, coughing and gagging.

He looks down and laughs a bit. Petals, beautiful petals covered in blood.

Looks like he's going to suffer with this disease as well. . .

Unusual contraptions¹ - cars

#xiao x reader #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #bitter angst #isekai

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Casual Ruin Pt. 5 (Elriel)

Elain's part of the Damnation series.

Last part! I know I said this would be 6/7 parts, but I realized I have no idea what the fuck I had planned to write in those parts, so it's 5 instead hahah. didn't edit the ending whoops

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

__________________________________________

~Elain~

It's three in the morning when I hear it.

We're laying in bed, and even though I should asleep like the man next to me, I can't stop thinking about how little time we have left.

How has the past month gone by so fast?

It feels like yesterday I was standing on my stoop, watching Azriel open up and tell me things he's since admitted he's never told another person.

It feels like yesterday since I decided that I care for him more than I care about what he does.

But it wasn't yesterday; it was a month ago.

A month that's been filled with dinner dates, soft smiles, laughter, and enough tender moments my heart feels full. He's a

The plane ticket hidden in the bottom of my purse is a constant reminder that this is just a summer fling, that it isn't supposed to mean anything. Two weeks from now, I'm supposed to get on that flight and never look back.

Except it feels impossible.

It broke my heart when I walked away from him a month ago, and that was before he told me the details of his life.

Now I know him.

I know about the way he smiles in the morning and how he shakes his head when he laughs, like he can't believe he's doing so. I've learned how ticklish his ribs are, how he likes his coffee, his favorite type of cigarettes.

I know about his family, how his mother died giving birth to him and his father resented him from the day it happened. I know about the first man he killed, how it made him sick. I know what his tattoos really mean.

And what I never could've expected is that everything I've learned, the good and the bad, have tied me to him in a way that feels permanent.

How am I supposed to just walk away from that?

The thought of never seeing his smile, never feeling his rough hands cup my face with a gentleness he doesn't show the world... it feels like missing a part of me.

And it worries me enough I haven't been able to sleep for the past two nights. Like I'm incapable of wasting a minute, I spend the nights watching him sleep.

Which is why I'm perfectly awake when he pulls me close in his sleep and whispers two words that ruin me.

Ti amo.

Tears well in my eyes as I stay perfectly still, replaying the moment over and over.

He loves me.

It's something I knew--something we both probably knew--ever since that day in the rain, but I think we both never said it because we knew our time is limited.

It's been in every touch, every kiss, every moment where we get caught up just staring at each other.

But I want to tell him, I have to tell him, because however good it makes me feel to hear that from him... I know he needs it more.

He's never been loved--never been anyone's first choice, but he's mine, and I want him to know. And I don't want to be just one more person that leaves him and makes him wondering if he'll ever be enough.

So I start to plan.

~A week later, Azriel~

Well, the worst has happened.

I love the fucking woman.

Now my biggest weakness now walks outside my body, with soft brown eyes and dirty blonde hair and bright smiles that light up the world.

And she's leaving in a week.

It scares the shit out of me.

She scares the shit out of me.

Honestly, I hadn't even realized I was in so deep until she said the words "We're done."

All I remember about that day is feeling I'd been stabbed in the chest and looking down to find the blade but not seeing anything but my own hands.

One moment I was convinced I was dying, the next I was in front of her on her stoop, telling her shit I've never told a living soul.

It wasn't then that I realized I love her, but that was when I realized something maybe even more important. I trust her.

Rule 3's been thrown out the window, and I don't even remember when it happened. Was it when she told me I'm not a monster? Or the first time I noticed the way her lips turn up every time I tell her she's beautiful?

Or maybe it was the first time I laid eyes on her as she stumbled into that opera booth, looking like everything I never knew I wanted.

Either way, I'm about a mile up shit's creek with no fucking paddle.

I trust her, love her, and I've only known her ten weeks. Which reminds me, she's leaving.

Which is irritating, because while the mere thought of watching her leave makes me want to level a building, she's currently acting like nothing's wrong.

She's in the bathroom, putting on red lipstick in a slow, taunting way that makes me want to mess it up. I'm sitting in the chair next to my bed, trying to stay calm.

She's watching me watch her in the mirror, and her eyes meet mine for a split second before she looks away, making me suspicious.

That look... I've seen that look before, more times than I can count.

But never from her.

It's a secret.

She looks like she's hiding something.

"Something you need to tell me?" I ask, putting a hand behind my head to prop it up.

Nodding, she comes to stand at the foot of the bed. "Yep."

I raise a brow. "What is it?"

"I'll tell you tonight if you meet me for dinner."

Suspicion and curiosity make me ask, "Where?"

"La Rosa," she responds casually, making me narrow my eyes. It's outside of the city a bit, a small place on the coast I've never had an interest in owning or visiting.

"I've never been there."

"New experiences are good for the soul," she quips, sliding on her sandals. "Just say you'll meet me."

There's a hint of nerves in her voice, so I say, "Of course, dolce mia."

She smiles, victorious. Then she's bounding over, taking my face between her palms, and pressing her mouth to mine.

Before I can ask what she's up to, she's out the door, calling over her shoulder, "Seven o'clock! I'll meet you there."

I get up and slide my jacket on, slipping my hand in the pocket and toying with the piece of metal I've been carrying around for a month.

Sighing, I take it out and throw it on the counter, knowing that if this life has taught me one thing, it's that it won't make a difference.

When seven o'clock rolls around, I'm seated at a table, frowning at my surroundings.

I've definitely never been here.

No man has, I'm willing to bet. At least not on his own volition.

There are flowers everywhere. Spilling out of vases, growing on the vines surrounding the open windows, lining the doors that are open to the patio out back.

Besides that, I guess the place isn't too bad, actually. The lights are soft, the weather's nice, and by the smells coming from tables around me, the food will be good.

Elain's running a few minutes late, but she called and told me to go ahead and order.

Apparently, she's come here before, because she told me what to order her. Odd.

A few minutes after I relay the information to the waitress, I spot her coming in the front door and wave her over.

She's a little flushed, her eyes are bright, and the smile on her face gives no doubt she's excited.

I stand up when she reaches me, kiss her, then ask, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she says too quickly. "Did you order?"

"Yeah. Have you been here before or something?"

She nods, diverting her eyes down and to the right in the classic tell of a lie.

I sigh, frustration getting the better of me. "Elain, what are you hiding from me?"

Before she can answer, the food comes. Two plates of pasta are set in front of us, and I know instantly I was right about the food being good.

But no matter how good it looks, there's only one thing on my mind.

"Elain."

She waves a hand. "Just eat, Azriel. I promise I'll tell you in like five minutes."

"Why not just tell me now?"

"It's more dramatic this way," she explains, making me sigh again.

Women.

She's going to give me a fucking heart attack with her drama.

A little aggressively, I stab the fork in the pasta, taking a huge bite.

I feel her eyes on me, watching me eat, but I act like I don't notice, mentally counting down the seconds until five minutes is up.

I'm at 263 when she asks, "Do you like it?"

"What?"

Rolling her eyes, she gestures to the plate in front of me. "Do you like it?"

"It's good," I reply honestly, a little surprised. I've lived here long enough to know the best places to eat, and I've never heard more than a decent review about this place.

"I'm glad," she says, full lips tilting up. "Since I made it."

I don't get it. Did she bring it with her? Is that why she was late?

Also, why did we come to a restaurant if she was going to cook?

"What? Why?"

She tilts her head, smile growing.

Right as my still-counting subconscious gets to five minutes, she explains, "Because I work here."

~Elain~

He stares at me, bite of pasta halfway between his mouth and the plate.

I've been almost bursting at the seems the past four days trying to keep the secret.

I mean, given what the man does for a living, I didn't think I'd make it more than an hour. And while he's definitely been suspicious, I made it.

"What?" he finally asks, dark brows furrowing as he leans in.

"I have a lot to say," I tell him. "So don't interrupt me."

His eyes narrow like they always do when I tell him what to do, but I ignore it and start listing off the different secrets I've been keeping.

I start with the most important.

"First, I love you."

The fork clangs against the plate as he drops it.

I smile, biting my lip and trying not to cry at the look on his face.

"I think I have since that first night when we danced in the bar. Or maybe when you took me to the beach. I don't know." Taking a deep breath, I say, "I tried to stop, when I found out... everything. But it was useless, because I was as in love with you then as I am now."

He shakes his head, almost like he's panicked, but I keep going.

"I love you, Azriel. I want to be with you more than I've ever wanted anything. And I can't bear the thought of leaving you. I don't want to."

Gesturing around us, I say, "I got a job here, and my landlord said she can draw up a lease. And before you say anything, I'm not giving anything up. The past months have felt like paradise, and I love it here. I liked my job in New York, but it wasn't anything I'll miss."

His eyes are so wide, it'd be a little funny if I wasn't so serious.

I take a sip of wine and try to puta brave face on. A lump forms in my throat, but I manage to say, "But we never talked about anything long term, so if this isn't what you want... I'll go. I promise. I just wanted you to know that you're... it for me. You're everything to me. I choose you."

He shudders, closing his eyes, and I take in how tight his jaw is, how close he seems to coming unraveled.

Is he freaking out? I definitely am.

After a few moments, I realize he's still waiting on me, so I laugh and say, "You can talk now."

He doesn't.

He just opens his eyes and stares at me, the shock in his gaze clear to read.

Nerves blossom. I was so sure he'd be happy, but maybe he isn't ready. Voice turning shaky, I ask, "Is this what you want?"

Slowly, he shakes his head, but before I can panic, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, holding it out between us. "I want you to live with me, not at the townhouse."

All the nerves fly out the door, and I laugh, not quite able to believe it.

How long has he been carrying this around?

The tears finally spilling over as I take the key from him. "Okay."

He brushes my cheeks off with his thumb, looking at me like he's never seen anything more beautiful.

Azriel's quiet for a moment, and I give him time, knowing that whatever he wants to say is hard for him.

"Ti amo. Mi spaventa così tanto."

I love you. So much is scares me.

"You? Scared? I don't believe it."

I'm trying to joke and lighten the mood, but he's completely serious as he shakes his head, cupping my jaw with his hand. "You scare the shit out of me, Elain."

My heart clenches, and I fight a fresh wave of tears as I lean into his touch. "You scare me, too."

"But you're not leaving."

It's said like a hopeful promise, like something he needs to hear again and again to accept it's true.

I shake my head. "I'm not leaving," I whisper.

He finally smiles, that big smile I'm positive he only gives me, and leans over the table to kiss me softly. "Say it again."

"I love you."

He kisses me again, and I slide my hands in his hair and kiss him back, feeling like everything before now has led up to this. He's the grand finale, the one I didn't know I was waiting for.

I pull back a little, just far enough to see his reaction as I whisper, "Meet me in the bathroom."

His eyes flare and his mouth drops open, and I laugh as I get up from my seat and try to walk nonchalantly towards the back.

This hadn't been part of the plan, but I've told him I love him, and now... I want to prove it.

Plus, I don't know what it is about him, but he feeds the adventurous side of me like nothing else.

I can feel him watching me from the table as I make my way across the restaurant.

Thankfully, the place is busy tonight, so I don't think anyone notices when, as soon as I shut the bathroom door, he rises to follow me.

A moment later, he slips in with me, taking in the dim lights, closed stall, low music. He flips the lock, and it's like it snaps the thread between us, descending us into chaos.

He's on me in a second, arms wrapping around me and lifting me. My legs bracket his hips as he pushes me up against the wall and traps my hands above my head.

"Say it again," he demands breathlessly, eyes bright and full of heat.

I nip his lower lip, then kiss it softly. "I love you, Azriel."

His mouth crashes into mine, unrestrained and demanding and deep enough I lose myself in him.

My hands are in his hair, his are pushing up the hem of my dress.

There's a brief moment of adjusting, and then he's easing into me. His eyes are on me, his lips are parted, and as I tighten around him, he makes a deep rumbling sound. It's the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"You're mine," I tell him, tilting my hips to take him deeper. "And I'm yours."

He shudders, eyes going black. "You're mine."

His hips claim mine, then, pulling out and thrusting back in, moving me up the wall. I tighten my fingers in his hair as he hits a spot deep inside me, and he groans.

Moving his hands to my hips, he brings me down as he thrusts up, and I moan, then slap a hand over my mouth.

I work here, for God's sake.

"This is not very professional," I mutter, smiling when his lips twitch.

"No," he agrees, thrusting into me harder. "And it's definitely inappropriate."

I clamp my lips together, pressing my hand to my mouth again to stifle the involuntary whimper I let out.

Azriel grins, tugging on my earlobe with his teeth and whispering, "You might need to go to confessional again."

Rolling my eyes, I move my hands to his shoulders, then lean in to lick up the column of his neck. "Between the two of us, I'd say you're more likely to end up on your knees tonight."

He laughs, tugging my head back to kiss me again. His tongue meets mine in a wet, deep slide that makes me shiver. His hips brush mine. His hands hold me just right, keeping me against him.

Pulling back, he brushes his lips over mine and whispers, "I love you."

The easy, conversational pace is abandoned, and we're moving harder against each other, the only sounds our labored breathing and muffled moans.

He brings a hand to cover my mouth, and I cover his with mine, and we're in tandem, both of us lost in the other.

He comes when I do, driving deeply into me and stilling, his head buried in my neck.

We spend a while like that, and when I eventually slide down the wall, we take our time adjusting our clothes. He keeps stopping me to kiss my shoulder or brow, and I waste too much time just looking at him.

When we're both ready, he extends a hand and grins. "Let's go home."

I smile, unable to help it. "Let's go home."

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! This is the last part, although I might do an epilogue one day (don't hold your breath lol).

Send me asks if you have em :)

@elorcan-trash @sweetdaisybell @anyblinding @acreativelydifferentlove @loosingdreams @poisonous00 @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @thedarkdemigod @full-tilt-diva @biggestwingspan-az @bookstantrash @mari-highladyof-feels @pilesofriles @bamchickawowow @teddytdr @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @autophobiax @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acomaf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel #a court of thorns and roses

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝘼𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙯: 𝘼𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙂𝙁 𝙃𝙖𝙨 𝘼 𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚

❥𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

"I know it's your job honey.....but I'm really not sure how to feel about this..... I'll support you no matter what though..."

You shook your head and held Hongjoong's hands in your own, running your thumbs across the top of his knuckles in a gentle motion.

"I know it's not easy Joong...but thanks for understanding." You smiled at him.

Pouting, he asked.

"Promise you won't fall for your co-actor?"

Chuckling you kissed his pouty lips. "Impossible when I've already fallen for you."

That comment made Hongjoong smile again....even if he was pouting once again after the showed aired and your kissing scene was trending all over. You came to visit him at the studio, food in hand for him and Eden, who had gotten used to having you around.

"Hi Y/N." He greeted you.

"Hi Eden- nim. Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong merely sat there, arms crossed as he glared at the screen in front of him.

"He's been like that all afternoon. I think you should do something." Eden decided it was his cue to leave for a couple minutes.

Tapping his shoulder, you called out to him again.

"Kim Hongjoong?"

He startled you by spinning around and facing you, suddenly blurting out:

"You're still interested in me right?"

Which caused you to burst out laughing.

❥𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

Maybe if you had told Seonghwa beforehand that you were going to have a kissing scene, everything would have been better. But you were busy with filming and he had to practice endless hours for their upcoming comeback that it was difficult to even talk for 5 minutes and it completely slipped your mind.

So one day, you came home and where you were surprised to see Seonghwa standing there, arms crossed as he tapped his foot on the floor.

"Oh Hwa! Didn't expect you here." You said.

"That makes two of us who weren't expecting things." He huffed out.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa tilted his head, his voice full of passive aggressiveness as he said:

"I'm talking about this!" He held up his phone, showing a screencap of you kissing your co-star.

"I take it you're not happy?" You asked him.

Seonghwa scoffed before letting out a dry laugh.

"Oh no! Of course not! I'm totally fine with someone else exchanging saliva with my girlfriend." He replied sarcastically, holding up his phone again.

You cringed. "Stop the sarcasm. It's only cute when Yeosang does it."

"Oh! So now even Yeosang is cuter than me?!" He exclaimed.

"Park Seonghwa, stop this nonsense before I throw your lint roller in my cat's litter box."

❥𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

You felt Yunho shift awkwardly next to you, his hand reaching for some of the popcorn that was in between both of your bodies.

"Yunho, you know it's not necessary to watch it if you don't want." You reminded him, knowing what scene was about to come up next.

Yunho immediately plastered a smile on his face.

"No honey! It's ok. I'm your big, supporting boyfriend who will cheer you on no matter what!" Lifting his fists up, he tried to show enthusiasm, but you could tell he wasn't being genuine.

Yunho glued his eyes back on the tv, one of his legs nervously swinging back and forth. He seemed to be doing fine during the whole confession scene, but when you and yours co-star kissed, he accidentally swung to hard that he ended up hitting the coffee table in front of him. You were about to check up on him, thinking he got hurt, but he just started laughing nervously.

"I'm ok! Just a muscle spasm." He joked.

You never took your eyes off him, knowing that beneath that smile, he was feeling sad and rather insecure about you kissing someone else. You were happy he at least tried to be happy and supportive of you, but you also knew you hated to see him upset.

Sitting up, you turned off the tv and then scooted closer to him. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, making sure to give them one quick peck before pulling back.

"I love you my not so little pup." You giggled at him as he blushed and looked down shyly.

Yunho turned back to you before pushing you down on the couch, pressing you against his back as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you too Y/N. And you really did do amazing."

❥𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

"Yeosang!"

Seonghwa shouted at him when he didn't answer for the 6th time.

"Huh?" He merely took a 1 second glance at the older male before gluing his eyes back on the tv.

"We can change it to something else-"

"No! I will watch it!" He exclaimed, surprising everyone at how loud he got.

"Yeosang....bro.....if you're not ok with this, it'd be better if you don't watch it." His longtime friend Wooyoung advised him.

"I'm ok! I'm totally fine! Just peachy." He picked up his boba tea and began sipping it at a rather fast pace, his eyes squinting at the tv in front of him.

The other guys looked amongst themselves, trying to decide to let him be or change it. Hongjoong ultimately told them it was Yeosang's call and therefore, they watched the rest of the drama.

When your character got kissed, Yeosang halted his sipping, eyes focused on the screen. The other guys tried not to say anything, but when the kiss got a little bit more heated, San couldn't help but let out a "ooooh" while Jongho covered his eyes and made a gagging noise.

Meanwhile Yeosang spat out the leftover liquid into his cup.

"I'm not ok! I am not ok!"

Standing up, Yeosang retreated to his bedroom, where he proceeded to crawl under the covers of his blanket and start groaning dramatically.

Getting up and following him, Wooyoung shook his head as he dialed your number.

"Ok, so your kissing scene broke him. So you better come over with some fried chicken and fix him or else I'll make you pay for making me deal with him if he's not repaired in 2 hours."

❥𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

As soon as San heard rumors that you were going to have a kissing scene, he immediately called you to make sure they were lies.

"NOOOOOO!!!"

He screeched when you indeed confirm there'd be a kissing scene.

"I'm totally against this! I will not allow this to happen."

You asked the boys to keep him from coming over to the set, but unfortunately San was a cat that could easily slip unnoticed. So you were only made aware of his presence while you were in the middle of shooting your kiss scene because while you and your co-star were leaning in, you heard an extremely loud cough from behind you, which unfortunately got recorded.

"Cut!" The director yelled.

You turned around and nearly flipped out when San merely greeted you with a wave, as he simultaneously glared at your co-star. You spent about 10 minutes trying to shoot the same scene, only for it to be ruined every time due to San's antics. He'd either pretend to sneeze really loudly, push off certain props that made loud noises, even messed around with one of the ropes that sent a sand bag catapulting down the ceiling, nearly injuring your co-star.

"Oops. I just wanted to see what that lever did." He smiled innocently.

Having had enough, you grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out, all while he cried for you to stop in a high pitched voice.

"Listen here Choi San, this drama is supposed to be my big break and I will not have you ruining it for me, got it?!" You warned him.

San merely nodded with a pout.

"Please just don't enjoy it."

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips.

"Dopey cat. I only enjoy your kisses."

❥𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

The other guys began laughing as Mingi stared wide eye at the tv in shock as he watched you lip lock with your co-star.

"Mingi! Calm down bro!" San clapped like a seal, dying from laughter.

"It's only acting." Yunho patted him on the shoulder.

Mingi looked back and forth at the tv and them.

"Please tell me there's new technology that edits kissing instead of actually having people physically do it."

His sentence only made them laugh even harder, while he just sat there, pouting intensely. He continued pouting even after you came over to spend time with him. At first you thought he just had a bad day or missed you a lot more than usual. He was clinging onto you even more, his arms instantly wrapping behind you, face hidden on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. Every time you pulled him off because you needed to go somewhere or get something, he'd follow behind you, linking pinkies with you or holding onto your arm. Then when he began pecking your lips at random times, you knew something was up, which didn't take you long to figure out.

"You saw the scene didn't you?"

Mingi immediately nodded, huffing softly as he cuddled up to you, resting his head on your stomach. You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair.

"Mingi if it makes you feel better, I thought of you while filming it."

Although he didn't say anything, you knew he was more than likely grinning like an idiot in love.

❥𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

You really did try to keep Wooyoung from finding out about the kissing scene, even going as far as asking the guys to distract him from watching your drama. But Wooyoung was smarter than you thought.

"There's something she doesn't want me to see. Isn't there?"

So the boys had no choice but to sit there and watch your drama with Wooyoung. He just sat there, straight face throughout the entire thing. But when you kissed your co-star he got the biggest smirk on his face.

"Oh.....so that's what you didn't want me to see." Wooyoung already began thinking about how to mess and tease you with this information, which was exactly the reason you didn't want him finding out in the first place.

As soon as you walked in your apartment, Wooyoung switched the lamp on and turned around in his chair, arms folding across his chest.

"Welcome home cheater."

At that point, you knew you were screwed. And he made sure to milk it for days. If you tried to hug him, he'd squirm out of your embrace. And if you tried to kiss him, he'd turn his face away and say:

"No! I'm not kissing you with that dirty, lying, cheating mouth of yours."

You had enough one day when he refused to cuddle with you though, so you opted for a different option. Getting up, you went over to his room, Wooyoung barely paying attention. When he heard Yeosang scream, he turned his head and watched him run out.

"Please just show your crazy girlfriend affection! She crawled into my bed and attempted to cuddle me!" Yeosang shivered from the physical contact.

Getting up, Wooyoung stormed over to the room.

"So now you're gonna be replacing me with my best friend?! Nuh uh! Come here so I can cuddle you!"

❥𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

"Jongho, remember....stay calm." Hongjoong reminded him.

"Hyung...please. I'm mature and understand this was strictly professional. I'm not going to get mad." Jongho rolled his eyes at the leader.

"Ok, just in case though."

Yunho and Mingi proceeded to sit on opposite sides of him on the couch. Jongho merely scoffed.

"Wow so much for having faith in me. Some older brothers you guys are."

It was good of them to take precautions. Jongho tensed up when he saw your kissing scene, which then turned to outrage when he saw how your co-star's character deepened the kiss and made it even more steamy.

"Hold the fuck up! I thought this was just supposed to be a tiny kiss..."

He glared at the tv, as if trying to set it on fire.

"This is a fucking makeout scene!"

Unable to contain himself anymore, Jongho yelled as he got up from the couch, Yunho and Mingi immediately holding him back from destroying the tv or any other furniture within his reach.

"Guys be careful! He's loose!" San exclaimed as he climbed on top of the couch, Wooyoung following suit.

"Seonghwa! Get some apples for him to relieve stress and anger!" Hongjoong ordered as he attempted to calm Jongho down.

Meanwhile Yeosang just sat there quietly, munching on one of his chicken drumsticks, watching the chaotic scene unfold. Shaking his head, he picked up his phone and called you up.

"Your boyfriend's gone feral. Do you want to come tame him or can I call animal control to come take care of him?" He asked.

"Seriously Yeosang? You're an ass. I'll be there soon." You sighed as you hung up, making a mental note to yourself to pick up all of Jongho's favorite foods.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years

Text

you're the one that brings the sun; chapter 1/6

Summary: Alex is prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Willex roommate au!

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: The title is from the song “I Dare You” by the Regrettes. I’ve actually planned this fic out so here’s to hoping I don’t get burned out halfway through. It might end up having 6 or 7 chapters, 5 is kind of just an estimate.

---

When Alex was 11, his mother proudly plastered his report card to the fridge and exclaimed that one day, her little boy would go to Harvard. His father gripped his shoulder with pride and Alex beamed up at his parents like they’d just told him he had superpowers. 3 years later, he was 14 and teetering on the edge of failure in the majority of his classes. He wasn’t stupid by any means, just preoccupied. He’d started a band with his best friends and that felt like the most important thing in the whole world, and high school was new and scary, so it was easier to not pour all his focus into school. His parents’ smiles faltered but they kept up hope, Alex could tell. 2 years later, he stood shaking and crying outside of the Molina’s garage and suddenly, the concept of going to college begun to feel distant and fake. But he’s 18 now, and somehow, miraculously, gazing at the piles of boxes in the back of Ray’s car and swallowing down a lump in his throat.

It sure isn’t Harvard, but a part of Alex feels giddy at the fact that he’s attending a public college that was relatively easy to get into; oh his parents would be rolling in their proverbial graves. What didn’t make him quite so happy though, was the looming fact that he’d be living with some random person, because for some godforsaken reason, the college wouldn’t allow freshmen to choose their roomates. Some bullshit about meeting new people and socializing.

“Hey, ‘Lex. Dude, you’ll be fine.” Luke shakes his shoulders, before swinging one arm around him and the other around Reggie.

“Says the one who isn’t even going to college,” Alex grumbles, slipping from Luke’s grip and into the front seat of the car.

“Yea cause I don’t need it. Not my fault you’re both nerds,” Luke retorts.

“I’m not a nerd, I just like to have insurance-”

“Yea, back-up plan, safety net, heard it a million times. Reggie’s a nerd though.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex says.

“I am not a nerd!” Reggie protests indignantly.

“Tell that to your 2 years of college credit in math.”

Luke nods in agreement. “Nerd.”

“Math is fun!”

“You’re horrible.” Alex makes a mock gagging noise.

Julie comes bounding out of the house, her arms decked with various baked goods. She tosses herself in the backseat beside Reggie and Luke, looking quite pleased with herself at being able to force Luke to sit in the middle. “Tía was apparently up all night baking,” she explains, passing the sweets up to Alex. “Don’t be surprised if she shows up at your dorm with food every day.”

Alex snorts. “I would not object to that.”

Julie sighs, leaning back in her seat. “You guys are so lucky, I’m tired of high school. Damn September birthday,” Julie grumbles. Her birthday is just after the cut off date, so she would be 18 for the majority of senior year, but is just barely too young to be in the same grade as the boys.

Reggie leans over and pats her arm sympathetically, earning an offended squeak from Luke, who’s only pushed further into the back of the seat.

“Don’t worry!” Alex chirps sarcastically. “You get to spend more time with Luke, since he’ll be squatting in your garage!”

“Oh, joy,” Julie deadpans.

“I am not a squatter!” Luke protests, kicking the back of Alex’s seat.

“No kicking! I’m holding food!”

“Y’know Alex, you’ve been staying in the studio for 2 years, you’re not one to talk!” Luke argues.

“I have a job.”

“A stupid job.”

“A stupid job that gets you free coffee.”

Reggie nodds to that, chewing on a cookie. “Can’t risk losing your coffee privileges.”

Julie groans loudly and stuck her head out the window. “DAAAAD! Let’s goooo!” She cries.

“Wow, I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so badly,” Alex says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh shut up Lexi, I just wanna meet your’s and Reggie’s new best friends!” Julie says, laughing.

“I’m not gonna be best friends with my roommate.”

“Yea, Alex forgot how to do that!”

“Luke I will smother you in your sleep!”

At this, Ray approaches the car with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s planning a murder, I hope?” He asks, chuckling as he slides into the drivers seat.

“No sir!” Reggie replies, grinning.

“Not yet,” Alex mumbles under his breath.

“Alright boys, who’s ready for college!” Ray says, starting the car.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

---

“And that’s the last of it!” Ray claps a hand over Alex’s shoulder and smiles encouragingly.

Alex nods tensely, gripping the strap of his fannypack tighter.

The dorm’s probably as good as he’s gonna get. One reasonably sized bedroom complete with two horribly uncomfortable beds, a kitchen with a fridge that was in no way large enough to fit even a weeks worth of meals, a tiny living room that would probably fit a couch and a TV at the most, and a bathroom that smelled suspiciously of mustard. Really it isn’t terrible, but Alex has a habit of noticing every little detail, especially the ones that could be a problem at some point. His roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so he’s standing amongst his various boxes, anxiety pulsing in his chest.

Julie grips his hand tightly and smiles, tears pricking the edges of her eyes. “Hey, Alex, you’re gonna be okay.” She squeezes his hand briefly.

Alex nods, exhaling shakily. “Yea, yea I know. It’s just…”

“A change, I know. But this is a good change. And-” she hauls Reggie and Luke over to them. “-we’re all here if you need to call someone and talk. And dad, and Tía, and I bet your roommate will be super cool.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Just pray he’s not a football player,” Reggie stage-whispers, shuddering.

“God, don’t even suggest that!” Alex whines.

Encouragements and teary hugs are passed along, as well as a promise to meet at the Olive Garden nearby for dinner in a few hours, and then Alex’s posse is off to get Reggie settled, and Alex is left alone in the dorm. Alright.

Alex takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before beginning to wander the dorm. He’s anxious to start unpacking without his roommate and risk doing something that they wouldn’t like. Even choosing a bed feels wrong, he really doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person. But leaving the dorm meant people everywhere so that was a definite no. He sighs, lowering himself to the wooden floor and pulling out his phone.

“Yea… uh huh. Yes Caleb, I got here fine. No the Uber driver did not try and kidnap me. The boxes- the boxes are not too heavy. Okay. Okay. Yea, bye. Mhm.”

Alex looks up hesitantly upon hearing the voice nearing his dorm. The person standing in the doorway is well… less of a person and more of a large stack of boxes threatening to fall over any second. “Hello?” Alex stands up and makes his way to the boy stood in the entrance.

Said boy pokes his head out from behind his boxes and grins crookedly. “Hi, uh, I’m Willie!” And well, Alex is a goner. He swallows thickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. Willie attempts to adjust the boxes but ultimately fails, sending them tumbling to the ground amongst several muttered curses. “Well… nothing fragile in there,” he falters slightly. “I think.”

“Um…”

“Right! Sorry, uh.” Willie holds his hand out and Alex shakes it tentatively.

“Alex.”

“Alex, cool.” Willie smiles again, his dark eyes twinkling as he does so, smile lines popping out. He brushes his hair -which looks so soft and pretty- behind his ear to reveal a small golden hoop on his right lobe. Alex is dead, actually 100% dead. Because he’d been prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Alex forces out a smile, all too aware that he’s still standing stiff and awkward in front of Willie, his grip on his fannypack tight enough to make his knuckles glow white. Then Willie coughs as some sort of attempt to fill the silence. “Sorry!” Alex squeaks. “Do you need help with the… the uh, boxes?”

“Oh yea, that’d be great!” Willie replies, beaming. “I don’t think there’s anything fragile in there, but y’know, my memory is absolute shit so if I broke some fancy china dishes I didn’t even know I owned, don’t be too shocked.”

Alex laughs anxiously. “Yea uh… I didn’t start unpacking cause I um… I didn’t want to claim a bed and stuff with-without your input?” His voice cracks at the end and he winces because Jesus fucking christ Alex.

Willie chuckles and Alex notes that he has the kind of laugh that echoes through your whole body and settles right in your heart. “ ‘S cool, man, I don’t mind.”

“Right, cool. Do you uh… are you okay if I take the bed farthest from the window? I’m not- not much of a morning person, and the window is… it’s east facing” Alex mutters, his gaze focused on his feet which are rocking back and forth at a rapid pace.

“Yea, of course,” Willie replies. “I don’t think I’ve woken up later than 8 in 5 years.”

“That’s horrific!” Alex cries, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. He steps back and blushes an even deeper red upon realizing how stupid he’s being. “I mean- I just… sorry, I just meant that-”

“You’re good, dude. I don’t bite.”

Alex cracks a tentative smile. “So uh… I’ll just start unpacking then.”

Willie shoots him a thumbs up and smiles once again, which is a thing he apparently does a lot.

An hour later, Alex’s belongings are unpacked and organized and the room feels a bit more his. He feels slightly lighter, exhaling and closing his eyes briefly. This isn’t so bad. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he shuffles out into the living room where Willie is presumably unpacking. Except that he’s not.

Willie is laying upside down on a couch that somehow appeared while Alex was gone and he’s flipping through a tattered magazine while his belongings remain mostly unpacked.

“This quiz says that I should try roller skating,” Willie sniffs. “Some personality test this is- oh hey Alex!” He scrambles up so that he can look Alex in the eyes properly, and points to the magazine in his hand. “Found this in a box, not sure how it got there since I’ve never even subscribed to one of these, but there’s a chocolate chip cookie recipe in here.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “Personally I prefer peanut butter cookies, ooh especially fresh out of the oven. There’s this bakery near my house that-”

“Did you get… any unpacking done?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie looks around at his boxes and laughs sheepishly. “Well I unpacked one and opened 3 so… some, yes.”

“Where’d the couch come from?” Alex pokes the cushion warily, as if afraid that it’s full of bugs.

“Room across the hall,” Willie says, pointing. “They both brought couches and didn’t have room for two we got the one with more stains.”

“Right.” Alex’s reply is forced and tense, and he winces upon realizing. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his roommate to become so comfortable so fast and he felt like he was several steps behind. Damn extroverts. Drumming his hands against his thighs, Alex slowly sits down on the other side of the couch, pointedly looking ahead instead of at Willie.

“So.” Willie scoots closer, sitting cross legged with his elbows on his thighs and chin resting in his palms. “What’s your major?”

Small talk, god Alex hates small talk. “Um, music,” he answers.

“Ah, that’s cool dude.” Willie nods.

“Uh, what about you?” Alex asks.

“Art,” Willie replies, grinning. “Be prepared for paint stains, like, everywhere.” He chuckles and nudges Alex’s shoulder playfully. Alex is going to implode, he’s sure of it.

Alex laughs awkwardly. “So uh… what’s wrong with rollerskating?”

Willie shoves his shoulder again. “Everything, dude! Well-” he cuts himself off, thinking. “-I just kinda suck at it, definitely better at my skateboard.” He jerks his head in the direction of a skateboard leaned against the wall and Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that.

“Oh, that’s- that’s cool. I rollerblade but I uh, I can’t skateboard to save my life.”

Somehow, they slip into a comfortable rhythm, and Alex notes that his anxiety no longer has him in a chokehold. Willie seems to have that affect; he’s just so… open. Alex doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s subconsciously created a folder in the back of his mind labelled “Willie,” and he doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting anything Willie will ever say to him.

“- that’s why airplane food is just, horrible. Cause you basically lose like 30% of your tastebuds because of the elevation.” Willie smiles at Alex, gaging his response.

Alex would rather die than admit that he’s still trying to figure out how the topic of airplane food came up, so he just nods enthusiastically, actively stopping his eyes from dancing across Willie’s face, which is practically glowing in the evening sun. Evening. Shit. Alex pulls out his phone frantically. “Shit.” He says it out loud this time.

Willie’s brow furrows in confusion. “You good, dude?”

“Uh yea I’m just, I’m supposed to be meeting my fam- uh my friends for dinner and I have to be there in like 5 minutes.” He ignores the way Willie’s expression falls, convinced he’s just seeing things.

“Yea um, of course. I won’t keep you.” Willie stands up, his posture the stiffest that Alex has seen it in the whole 3 hours they’ve been acquainted for. “I’ll just… order a pizza.”

Alex hesitates in the doorway, weighing his options, which has never been his strong suit. “Do you want to join me?” He blurts impulsively. Willie looks at him in surprise. “I mean only- only if you want of course, we’ve only really uh, known each other for a few hours and you- you probably don’t want to, it was stupid. I’ll just- I’ll just go-”

“No! I’d… I’d like to, eating pizza alone in the dark sounds a little pathetic,” Willie responds.

Alex smiles genuinely. “Ok, ok that’s uh. Cool. That’s cool.”

---

Alex is already regretting this. The restaurant isn’t too crowded, he notices with a relieved breath. But it’s loud. It’s loud and yet only one group of people is talking. Alex doesn’t even need to guess who.

“Ok but- no- no- the whole song would be better!”

“Say banjo one more time, I dare you!”

“Banjo.”

“Julie, what the hell?! This is betrayal!”

“You stole my breadstick, it’s only fair.”

Alex coughs, quieting the table to a dull roar.

“Alex!” Julie pulls him down to sit next to her. “Oh? Who’s this?” Reggie is grinning wickedly and Luke waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Alex want to shave them off.

“This is uh, my roommate Willie,” Alex responds, his voice raising an octave. “He didn’t have plans so I uh… I invited him, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok!” Julie pats the space on the other side of Alex and Willie sits down, appearing… oddly nervous.

“Congrats! Your Alex’s first new friend since,” Luke taps his chin, pretending to think. “7th grade.”

Alex’s face promptly falls into his hands. He’s seriously considering the whole, shaving Luke’s eyebrows in his sleep thing.

Reggie leans forward conspiratorially. “What’s your opinion on banjos?” He asks, making a point to ignore Luke’s dramatic complaining.

Willie raises his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Um. No comment?”

“I’m… sorry about them,” Alex says apolegetically. “Uh, this is Luke, Reggie, and Julie-” he gestures to each of them; Reggie waves, beaming happily. “-and Julie’s dad should be…” He trails off, looking around.

“He had to take a phone call, something about Carlos refusing to eat dinner until he proves the house is haunted,” Julie explains, clearly biting back a laugh.

“I… okay.” Alex shakes his head. “Are we waiting for more food or did Reggie eat it all?”

“Ha ha,” Reggie punctuates his statement by sticking out his tongue. “We’re waiting for the actual meals-”

“Yea Luke already ate the entire bread basket.” Julie shoots a glare in Luke’s direction.

“Well… you suggested we get hotdogs,” Luke grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Payback.”

“Okay,” Julie laughs.

Willie leans over to whisper loudly to Alex, “What’s the story with the hotdogs?”

“Don’t tell him!” Luke cries, leaning across the table and slamming his palms down.

“We don’t talk of the hot-dogs,” Reggie mutters miserably.

“Food poisoning.” Alex shudders slightly. “Very bad food poisoning.”

“We almost died,” Reggie says, eyes widening. “Like, for real death. I’m pretty sure I was a ghost for a few seconds.”

“Reg, you were not a ghost,” Alex says, speaking like Reggie’s a 10 year old talking about monsters under his bed.

“I was!”

“You were not!”

“So,” Luke smiles mischievously, taking Reggie and Alex’s bickering as an opportunity to apparently torture the latter. Despite Alex’s warning glares, he turns to Willie with an innocent expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Luke,” Alex hisses, all too familiar with Luke’s antics.

“Hmmm.” Willie is painfully oblivious to Alex’s panicked expression as he mulls over his answer. “A lot of stuff really.” He shrugs. “Rock, pop, I like those lo-fi playlists when I’m trying to study.”

Luke nods, clearly pleased with the answer, but he isn’t done and Alex wants to hide under the table. He knows what’s coming next. “Thoughts on… drummers?”

“Luke.” Alex is seconds from lunging across the table.

“Drummers?” Willie asks, tilting his head confusedly.

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the p and still smiling like he’s some sort of innocent puppy-dog and not an absolute bastard.

“Hot,” Willie jokes. Alex can’t even hide the way he manages to choke on his own spit, and Luke and Reggie have never been great at subtlety, turning to Alex with matching shit-eating grins. Willie either doesn’t notice or is kind enough not to comment on it. “Yea, pretty sure young Roger Taylor was my gay awakening.”

Reggie is full on giggling now, and Alex’s entire face is gleaming a bright red. Willie glances around the table, puzzled.

“Mhm.” Luke nods before swiftly turning to Alex. “Hey Alex, by the way, you left your drumsticks in the car, do you need them back?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, coated in some sort of poisoned honey. It’s Willie’s turn to choke on nothing, failing to disguise it as a spontaneous coughing fit.

“Fine,” Alex squeaks as he sinks further down in his seat. If he pulls out his phone and messages Luke a flurry of threats, that’s no one’s business. He dares a glance at Willie, who has become quite fascinated with his hands, which are tapping out a mindless rhythm on the table, his cheeks and the tips of his ears dusted red.

Needless to say, Alex makes sure Luke doesn’t even get to look at the next bread basket.

---

I hope you liked it! Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

I’m hoping to update at least once a week, but who knows. Ok thats all.

chapter 2

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

#willex #jatp #willex fic #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willie nolastname #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #ray molina #willow writes #ytotbts #you’re the one that brings the sun

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sir-subpar · 3 years

Text

Where have you been? (1)

*This takes place in the Cursed!Bf au. This is pretty focused on Pico's point of view. Not a lot of shipping in this chapter, but I had a lot of fun writing this. This will be a 2-parter. Btw, swear words.*

Pico had challenged Boyfriend to another rap battle for fun and awaited his arrival. He was late, but they did plan to meet up at 5:00 pm so Pico figured it was just rush hour traffic holding him up. So he waited patiently. Minutes turned to hours, and the sun had set below the horizon. Pico tried to text him, but got no response. This was bullshit. He waited for hours like a fool and now B was ghosting him? If he didn't want to rap why didn't he just cancel?

Pico grit his teeth in frustration as he got into his car. He began driving to Boyfriend's and Girlfriend's house. His grip on the steering wheel was unnecessarily tight. Sure, maybe he was overreacting a little. It was just a rap battle, but it angered him that B had wasted his time. He could have done something to let him know that they had to cancel. So in the moment, telling him off just sounded cathartic. He muttered random obscenities under his breath, as if reciting how he was gonna tell him off.

By the time he had reached the house Bf and Gf shared together it was dark out, some stars had started making their mark on the blackened sky. Pico could see the living room light was on. Good, they were home. Pico slammed the car's door, then walked up the little path to the house's front door. He knocked on the door and waited. He tapped his foot impatiently. He had spent his whole afternoon waiting for this guy to show up so the idea of waiting any longer annoyed the hell out of him.

He could hear the door being unlocked and was about to start his angry rant when he saw it was Girlfriend at the door. The look on her face was odd, she looked surprised and… worried? That seemed off to Pico, as she usually opened the door with more enthusiasm no matter who was there. She was wearing a red crop top and black sweatpants, her comfy clothes.

"... Pico? What are you doing here?" She asked, her tone came off as nervous. "I just wanna ask Boyfriend something." He decided not to yell at Girlfriend, she wasn't the one he was pissed at anyway. "Oh… He isn't with you? He doesn't… live here anymore."

Just like that, all the anger built up in Pico had just fizzled. Replaced with confusion and shock. And a little bit of worry. "Why doesn't he live here??" Pico asked, what was going on? "Bf and I… we broke up. He left a few weeks ago and I haven't seen him since." She seemed nervous, she avoided making eye contact as she spoke. She left fidgeting with her hair, a nervous habit of hers.

"So you don't know where he is, huh?" Pico asked, he too, started feeling nervous.

"I haven't seen him since we broke up. He left most of his stuff here too. Even his phone. I figured he had run off to stay with you but I guess that's not the case." Girlfriend continued. Pico's worry only grew from there. He put his hands in his pockets and awkwardly continued their conversation. "How long has this been going on? Like, when was the last time you saw him?" Pico had to know. How long had he been out of the loop here? Girlfriend looked him in the eyes, almost shamefully. "Two weeks."

Pico couldn't help but be shocked by this. "Do you know anyone else he might have talked to? Anyone he might be staying with right now?" Anyone who would know where he is? That was what he really wanted to know. Where could he have gone? Girlfriend shook her head. "No, I don't know who he'd go to other than you. Most people we know don't really like him that much as far as I know." Pico couldn't help but grow more worried. This just wasn't like B… was he in trouble? "Well.. I'm gonna try to find out where he is. You wanna help?" Pico gestured towards his car, thinking they could ask around. Girlfriend averted her gaze, once again avoiding eye contact. "I'm pretty sure I'm the last person he wants to see.."

Pico couldn't argue with that. Hell, when he and Bf broke up they still kept in contact to some degree. Boyfriend completely ghosting someone was rare, so he must've really wanted to avoid her. "Yeah… I guess that makes sense. Uh, have a good night." Pico and Girlfriend shared goodbyes and went their separate ways. Pico never liked being alone with her, to be honest. It was always awkward, now it was made worse with Boyfriend being who knows where. Pico drove off in his car, contemplating what he should do. 'Maybe I should just call some of B's friends. He might just be staying at one of their places.' He thought to himself.

Pico had to think about who Boyfriend trusted the most (not counting himself or Gf in this case). He started thinking of people B had introduced him to. 'I have Hex's number, he's friendly, maybe Bf talked to him? It's worth a shot.' Pico scrolled through his contacts until he found Hex's number. The phone dialed for a few seconds, then he heard a robotic voice greet him. "Hello friend!" Hex exclaimed, enthusiastic as always. Pico wasn't really sure if he'd consider himself as Hex's 'friend' per say, but he never disliked the guy.

"Hey Hex, it's Pico."

"Greetings Pico! Haven't heard from you in a while! How are you?"

"I'm alright, thanks. I actually need to ask you something. Could you help me with something?"

"You sound worried. How can I help?"

"I know this might sound random but… is Boyfriend staying with you by chance?" Pico nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He hoped that by some chance that maybe Hex knew something.

"No, why?" Just like that, Pico's hope was dashed. Despite that, he decided to fill Hex in on the situation. Maybe having another person looking out for B would help their chances of finding him.

"Well, he and Girlfriend split up 2 weeks ago and he just kinda… disappeared. I've tried to reach out to him but he's not responding. Gf said she has no idea where he is."

" I'm sorry, I don't know any more than you do."

Pico let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I'm worried about him. Hey, if you see him, will you let me know?"

"I will."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Pico was about to hang up the phone when Hex said one last thing.

"Actually, my friend Whitty sometimes hangs out with Boyfriend. I'll call and ask him if he knows where Boyfriend is." Hex sounded hopeful, which made Pico feel a little better. "Thanks, Hex. Let me know what he says."

"Will do! Bye for now!"

"Bye."

Pico hung up. Deciding to drive home for the time being. He couldn't help but suddenly wonder though… who was Whitty? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't recall meeting someone named Whitty. Maybe Bf had mentioned the guy to Pico before. Regardless, if this guy knew anything about Bf, he'd take it.

Pico got home and felt exhausted. He kicked his shoes off at the front door, and dragged his feet as he walked towards his bedroom. He changed into some pajamas and started preparing to sleep. Part of him wanted to stay up and wait to hear back from Hex, but he was tired, and he needed to rest. He'd continue his search after getting some sleep, he decided. Pico pulled his bedsheets over his body, closed his eyes, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

…

Pico got up the next morning at around 7:30 am. He got dressed, brushed his hair and teeth, all that usual morning routine stuff. Then, just as he was about to start calling more people to see if they knew anything about Bf, he got a call from Hex.

"Hello? Hex?"

"Pico!" Hex yelled, sounding excited. "I have good news!" Now Pico was beginning to feel excited. "I talked to my friend Whitty. He said he saw Bf a few days ago!"

"Does he know where B is now?" Pico was nervously fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. He wasn't entirely sure why, but ever since his conversation with Girlfriend, he just had a gut feeling that something was wrong. He hoped it was just paranoia. "Does he know where Bf is now?" Pico asked. 'Please say yes.' He pleaded in his mind. "Hang on, let me ask him." Hex replied, then his voice sounded distant. He was talking to someone in person, their conversation muffled. "He said no, but he saw Bf in the same general area a few times last week. Maybe all three of us should go there and look for him together! Like a search party!" Hex sounded hopeful, and honestly it wasn't a bad idea. Pico took a deep breath. This was a good thing, this narrowed the search a bit. Pico reminded himself. "Okay, let's do it." He said, feeling determined. "I'll send you the address so we can meet up. See you there!" Hex proclaimed. "Thanks, I'll be there." Pico hung up, then rushed to get his keys, his gun, and other supplies then got in his car. Hex, as promised, sent him the address. Pico entered it into his phone's navigation system and drove there. It was in an oddly run-down neighborhood, with rundown buildings and dark alleys. He wondered what Bf would be doing there. He honestly didn't like the idea of parking his car in this neighborhood, do you worried that it would get stolen or broken into. So he parkes a little ways away, and walked the rest. It was for the best.

He walked to their agreed meet up spot. The sidewalk was in poor condition, as well as most of the buildings around him. Cracked and discolored walls, boarded up windows, shattered glass and trash was all over the place. The street alone looked as though the city gave up on it. This whole place was run down. Even one of the street lamps was knocked over, luckily it was the morning so it didn't matter.

Pico could see Hex's monitor head and basketball jersey from a distance. Said robot noticed him and waved to him. He saw someone else there with him, presumably Whitty. Upon closer inspection, Pico noticed a few things about Whitty. The first being that he was fucking tall as hell! Pico knew that he was short in comparison to most people but even so, this dude was TALL. Pico standing at his full height wasn't even half this guy's size. He had to be close to 9 feet tall. The next thing he noticed was the fact that his head was a bomb. His eyes were orange and glowed. Pico couldn't help but stare at the guy. When did Bf come into contact with this guy? How did they meet?

"Hey." Said the tall bomb-headed man. Pico flinched slightly, realizing he must have noticed him staring. His voice was kind of gruff, but not the usual kind of gruff. It reminded Pico of an electric guitar for some reason. Though he figured it probably was best not to say that out loud. Pico snapped out of his thoughts and finally replied. "Hey, I'm Pico. I'm guessing you're Whitty?" Pico held out his hand to shake Whitty's, the taller man returned the gesture. "Yeah, that's me." When their hands touched, Pico was surprised by how warm Whitty's hand was. It was definitely hotter than his own human hand. Not to mention how smooth his skin was, it felt somewhat like metal, but not quite. He kind of wanted to keep holding it just so he could examine it more, but he figured that would be weird to do to a guy he just met. So he let go.

"So… you saw Bf around here?" Pico asked, and decided it was time to start their search. "We crossed paths a few times but every time he ran away. He seemed… upset." Whitty explained, somewhat trailing off towards the end of his sentence. He too, seemed like he was worried about Boyfriend. Pico wondered how close they were. "Can you show us where you last saw him?" Hex asked, a question mark appearing on his screen. Whitty nodded "Yeah, follow me." He turned on his heels and began walking in front of them. He seemed confident, like he knew the area well. Pico and Hex quickly followed.

It was mostly quiet between them, Hex played some simple tune to break the silence. Something Pico appreciated. He felt a little awkward, he didn't know anything about Whitty, but apparently he was a friend of Bf's. He quickened his pace a bit so he could walk next to Whitty, he decided to break the silence between them. "So… how'd you meet Bf?" Whitty looked at Pico with an unreadable expression. "He challenged me to a rap battle." Pico chuckled at Whitty's answer and replied jokingly with "Ah, so the same way he meets everyone." Whitty chuckled. "Yeah, pretty much." He could hear Hex laugh a bit too. It really was the way he met most people. "So, how long have you known each other?" Pico asked. "Hmm… I think months now, almost a year. What about you? You two seem close." Whitty looked at Pico quizzically. Pico rubbed the back of his neck "Aw geez, a really long time. Since we were kids." Whitty's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow. So you're really close then huh? That explains a lot actually." Pico tilted his head in curiosity. What did he mean by that? "Yeah? Like what?" Whitty shrugged. "I dunno… B talks about you sometimes. He told me several times that I should meet you. Said he thought we'd get along." Whitty chuckled. "He always looked so happy when he talked about you.."

Pico couldn't help but feel flattered, but he also felt a little jealous. Bf told Whitty so much, he trusted him. He knew He longer than Whitty did, yet Bf apparently didn't trust him enough to tell him about his and Gf's breakup. Pico tried to ignore those thoughts. Bf, wherever he was, needed him. It wasn't time to be bitter. "Wish we could've met under better circumstances." Pico muttered, Whitty nodded. "Yeah."

Hex then decided to interject their conversation. "Hey Whitty, are we close to where you last saw Boyfriend?" The robot asked suddenly, startling Pico. For a second, he actually forgot the robot was there. 'Oh yeah.. We've been walking for a little while now.' Pico realized that he had lost track of where they were. "Yeah, sorry. It's just around this next corner, we're almost there." Whitty instructed. "Ok!" Hex replied. Pico nodded, observing their surroundings. This part of the neighborhood was… odd. It didn't seem quite as old as the rest of this beaten-down area. It seemed more… recently abandoned. The buildings, though still a mess, seemed more modern in comparison. Like at some point, this was a nice neighborhood, possibly even upper class at one point.

The trio turned right at the faded crosswalk, about three buildings down the street, they stopped. Whitty turned to face Pico and Hex. "This is where I last saw him. I tried to talk to him but he ran off and I lost track of him." Pico looked at the rundown building they were in front of. Unlike the other buildings in the area, it didn't seem that old. What surprised him though, was the obvious damage. It looked like the building caught fire at some point. The windows looked like they were shattered from the inside. Pico looked through them, he could see the remains of what appeared to be a restaurant. Broken and burned tables, shattered plates and collapsed support beams were all over the place. He could see the remains of broken speakers towards the back of the dining room, close to what was probably a bathroom. Pico took a few steps back and tried to read what was left of the restaurant's sign. Then it clicked.

He had heard of this place, about a year ago it was on the news because some lunatic blew up the place in the middle of a rap battle. He remembered seeing Boyfriend and Girlfriend escaping the smoldering wreckage on the news. He called them as soon as he saw it and let them stay at his house that night to comfort them. He could vividly remember the look on Girlfriend's face when they watched the aftermath on the news. Complete and utter terror. He had never seen her more scared in his life. Apparently the arsonist was never caught, for some reason. Pico never understood that. It was a restaurant full of people, surely somebody would have seen where he went, right? The thought made Pico uneasy. Why would B come anywhere near this place after that?

"Yo, Pico. You listening?" Whitty's voice suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts. He wondered how long he was zoning out for. "Sorry I- I just got lost in thought. What were you saying?" Pico felt bad. He was supposed to be looking for his missing friend, not zoning out. Pico mentally chastised himself for it before focusing on Whitty again. "I don't know where he went from here, but I don't think he left this side of town." Pico nodded, then looked up at Hex, his monitor was processing something. Pico guessed he was thinking up a plan. Then the monitor showed a map. "Maybe we should split up into different areas" the robot started, his now map that was once his face highlighted three different areas in the neighborhood. "After each of us surveys their area we can check in with each other over the phone." Hex offered. Pico, though he appreciated the thought, didn't really like the idea of the three of them splitting up in a neighborhood like this. Sure, he could take care of himself. Hell, he was an assassin for fucks sake. But even he knew he wasn't invincible. He was vulnerable. Especially in an area he wasn't familiar with. Before he could politely object though, Whitty commented on the plan. "Sorry Hex, that's a no go. This place ain't a good area. If we split, we could get ambushed." Pico was relieved that Whitty agreed with him. "If there were more of us, then we could split up into teams. But it's just too risky to do as is." Pico added, making his stance on the situation known. Hex sighed (or at least did the robot equivalent of sighing), his arms dropped and his now disappointed face appeared on the monitor's screen again. "Ok… this is far less efficient though." Hex replied, defeated. Pico gave him a comforting pat on the arm. "We appreciate the thought, Hex." Pico said, hoping it would appease the mechanical man. Hex smiled and let it go. "Where should we start looking?" Hex asked the group. Pico couldn't help but eye the burnt restaurant. "Let's check in here first." Whitty and Hex both looked at Pico quizzically, but shrugged it off and agreed.

Pico attempted to open the front doors, but they wouldn't give, the restaurant's double doors were stuck shut. Pico was about to slam into it when he was stopped by a large hand. Slightly startled, he realized it was Whitty who lightly grabbed him. The bomb man gently moved Pico away from the door."I got it." Was all he said before he gripped one of the door's handles and yanked the whole door off its hinges. Wood splinters flew everywhere as the door cracked and broke. Whitty tossed the door aside with one arm. Pico's jaw almost dropped. 'Holy shit. Either that door was weak or he's strong as hell!' Pico was tempted to comment on it but didn't want to come across as rude so all he did was thank Whitty. Hex on the other hand clapped his metallic claw hands, the metal making numerous "ting" sounds. "Great job Whitty!" Hex exclaimed before walking through the now open doorway. Whitty rubbed the back of his head, seeming a little embarrassed. Pico noticed Whitty's cheeks were slightly glowing orange. Was that how he blushed? "Err.. Thanks. It's nothing." Whitty had to lean down in order to fit through the doorway, Pico walked in after him.

The three of them spread out a bit to investigate the remains of the restaurant. Pico honestly thought it was depressing to look at. This had once been a peaceful place to take your loved ones to and enjoy food. Now it was just a husk of its former glory. An ashy, decrepit ruin. After a few minutes, they found nothing and decided to leave. Pico felt bad for wasting time in this old building, but he was glad the others were still willing to help. The trio decided to keep looking around the neighborhood, continuing their search for Boyfriend.

…

Hours. They had been searching for hours, and there was still no sign of Boyfriend anywhere. Pico felt his legs getting sore. He hadn't walked so much without stopping in a long time. Hex seemed unfazed, but maybe that was because robots couldn't get sore muscles. Whitty seemed a little tired, but didn't show signs of really slowing down. Pico really wanted to just power through it and be helpful, but his legs were in agony. He needed to sit down. It didn't help that it was past noon and he hadn't eaten much that day. "Hey guys. I need to sit down for a bit, my legs are killing me." Pico admitted, hopong the others would be cool about it. "Okay, let's take a break. We've been doing this all day." Whitty agreed. Hex noticed a bench in the distance. "Why don't you rest over there?" The robot offered, and the other boys agreed. The bench was a bit tall, Pico had to hop on to it. Whitty on the other hand had no such trouble, being the vertically-blessed giant he was. Pico was a little jealous. Pico let out a sigh. "Where the hell is that blue-haired dumbass?" Pico asked rhetorically, he was getting frustrated with this. He was worried, tired, and felt lost. He thought he knew Bf well, but he didn't know him well enough to predict this. "I wish I knew." Whitty added, sounding worried as well. Pico was thinking about what to say when his stomach growled loudly.

"Hungry, huh?" Whitty chuckled. "Fuck yes, I'm starving." Pico replied. "You know what? I'm gonna get lunch. You hungry?" Pico asked, standing up despite his legs begging him not to. "I'm always hungry, sure." Whitty chuckled again. "I'm never hungry!" Hex happily chirped. That time Pico chuckled. "Well, you could still come with us, even if you don't eat anything." Pico offered. "Thank you friend!" Hex smiled. "Cool." Pico gave a thumbs up. "So… where are we going?" Whitty asked, tilting his head a bit. He stood up, ready to follow Pico. "First to my car. Then I'll drive us to a restaurant or something." Pico explained, beginning to walk towards said vehicle. "Just a heads up, I parked a bit far, but it should only take, like, 20 minutes to get there." Pico warned, knowing the others (or at least Whitty) were tired as well. "No problem friend! Lead the way!" Hex declared enthusiastically. Whitty just shrugged and said "We've been walking for hours, 's not like 20 minutes will kill us." And just like that, they were off.

…

Pico, as promised, drove the three of them to a small diner that wasn't too far away. It was thankfully in a nicer neighborhood. The three sat together at a booth table near the back. Hex had powered off to regain some energy. More or less leaving Whitty and Pico alone.

"Hey, lunch is on me, k?" Pico stated. He had been paid generously on his last job, so he wasn't worried about meal prices. Whitty seemed caught off guard. "Uh, y-you don't have to do that-" "I insist." Pico bluntly interjected. Whitty again, tried to decline. "I shouldn't- you don't need to do that, really." Whitty stammered a bit. Pico doubled down on it. "I'm not budging on this man." Whitty tilted his head to the side curiously, but still seemed slightly flustered. "Why are you so persistent in paying for both of us?" Whitty asked. Pico shrugged. "I just want to thank you for all your help today. I've been stressed out trying to figure out where B is and I really appreciate you helping us out." Pico said earnestly, he was still really worried about Boyfriend. "I.. You're welcome. I'm not gonna lie, I care about him, and I'm worried for the guy. Last time I saw him, he seemed off." Whitty confessed, rubbing the back of his head. Pico's curiosity piqued a bit. "Off? In what wa-" ''Hello boys! Can I get you something to drink?" Pico was suddenly interrupted by their waitress. "Oh. Right. We should probably order something haha." Pico joked, chuckling a bit. "I'll take a Coke. What about you Whitty?" Pico asked, gesturing towards the taller male. "I'd just like water, please." Whitty replied, the waitress wrote their drink orders. "Okay. Are you ready to order your meals as well?" She asked sweetly. "I think we need a few minutes." Admitted Pico. "Okay, I'll give you some time to think about it and will be back with your drinks in a bit, okay?" Whitty and Pico politely thanked her and looked at their menus.

"What're you thinking of ordering?" Pico asked, he wondered what kind of food Whitty enjoyed. "I don't know. I'm still surprised that you're paying for both of us." Whitty responded unsurely. "It's all good man. I got it" Pico gave a reassuring smile. "I just want to warn you that I eat a LOT. I'm not exactly cheap to feed." Whitty warned, embarrassed. Pico chuckled, "I'm not exactly peckish, either." "I really mean it, Pico. I eat more than humans do." Whitty once again gave a disclaimer to Pico. "And I really mean it when I say I'll cover it. Just get what you want." Pico stated adamantly.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"..."

"Are you sure?"

"Whitty if you ask me that again I'm gonna smack the shit out of you."

(To be continued…)

(I wanted to write more but this is long so I'm gonna break it into two chapters. The next one is gonna have more angst so I wanted to end this one on a bit of a lighter note

#fnf #friday night funkin #cursed! bf au #cursed!bf #fnf pico #fnf whitty #fnf hex #fnf girlfriend #fnf boyfriend #bombico #bf x pico #pico x whitty #if you squint #fanfic #two shot #where have you been?

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Another Shot at Life

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

TW: Child abuse, emotional manipulation

Ao3

Hunter accidentally makes his way into the human realm and can't get back home. But he's discovering that might not be such a bad thing.

Ch 6/7: Fall into Your Nightmare

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5

Hunter watched the portal close, tears rolling down his face. Belos pulled him away.

“Hunter, I thought you were better than that. Really, your lack of loyalty is painful.” He coughed. “Agh—”

Hunter bit back a whine of pain as Belos’ grip tightened even further, and his arm started to go numb and tingly.

Belos steered him back through the hallways to his room. “You are going to stay in there. I will have meals brought up. Do not leave this room.” Belos tugged Hunter’s gloves away. “Oh, and I’ll be taking these, in case you had any ideas about trying to get back to the human realm.

He slammed the door shut and locked it. Hunter’s legs wobbled, and he staggered to his bed, sitting down.

She would have fought for me.

But this had been the right choice, right? Even if Camila and Vee would have fought for him, they wouldn’t have won. How could they?

Red fluttered out of his pocket, chirping sadly. Hunter cupped the palisman in his hands. “We’ll be fine. I still have you, and—this isn’t so bad. If he won’t let me out of my room, then there’s no chance that he’ll send me after Luz, right? Right. Really, this is probably the best outcome I could have hoped for when I ran away. A couple of bruises and not-so-solitary confinement? I’m getting off easy.” He swiped tears out of his eyes. “Yeah. This is—it’s fine. We’ll be okay. And Camila and Vee are safe, and that’s what really matters.”

The door creaked open, and multi-colored eyes glared hatefully at him. Hunter jumped up. “What do you want?”

Kikimora pushed the door shut behind her. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and the coven patch on Hunter’s arm started to burn, glowing red and black. A wave of pain hammered up his nerves, and his vision went blurry.

“Belos might have forgiven your attack on me,” Kikimora hissed, taking a step closer, “but I have not.”

The patch throbbed, and Hunter clutched his arm to his chest, looking around wildly for his staff—but of course, Belos had taken his coven staff away. Red fluttered to him, shifting into a staff, and he swung it towards Kikimora.

She lazily drew a circle in the air, and his staff flew from his hand. Another wave of pain swept up from his arm, and his legs gave out, tears pricking at his eyes.

“Hngh—Kiki—”

“What are you going to do?” she taunted, looming over him. “Fight back? I doubt Emperor Belos will let you get away with it twice. Tell on me? I’ll claim I caught you attempting an escape. Naturally, I had to stop you. Guess who he’ll believe? I’m in the emperor’s good graces. Not you.”

His coven patch faded to its usual color, and Kikimora turned her back on him, striding back to the door. “Just remember your place, Golden Guard.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and Hunter curled into a ball, waiting for the pain in his arm to subside. Red fluttered down next to him, chirping anxiously.

He managed a smile. “I’m okay—that doesn’t hurt nearly as much as she thinks it does.” Hunter sat up, rubbing the patch. “I promise you, we’re going to be okay.”

Xxx

Hunter jumped to his feet as he heard a familiar cough echoing down the hallway. He grabbed Red as Belos burst in. His uncle’s chest was heaving frantically, and cursed goop dripped from his face.

“Give me—the palisman,” he rasped.

Hunter’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he clutched Red close to his chest, backing away. “You said I could keep it if I came back,” he accused.

“That was before your disobedience caused me another attack,” Belos snarled, holding a hand out, “Give it to me!”

Hunter shook his head. “N-no.”

Belos lunged towards him with a growl, making a grab for Red with a hand that was half liquid. Hunter turned his back to his uncle, shielding the bird. Belos’ grasping hand slammed into his back, and all of the air rushed out of Hunter’s lungs with a whoosh. He staggered forward to the window, launching his palisman out. “Get—out of—here—” he wheezed.

Belos ripped him back from the window with a roar, reaching out the window for Red, but the palisman fluttered out of reach, diving down away from the window.

Belos gasped as more and more of his body shifted into a goopy mess. Hunter scooted backwards, but the room wasn’t big enough, and Belos’ curse lashed out. Hunter rolled to the side to avoid one flailing tendril, but another one caught him, throwing him back into the bed. His head hit the frame with a crack, and everything went a little fuzzy. He didn’t know how long he was lying there, but when he came to, Belos was back to normal, breathing heavily.

Hunter pulled himself into a sitting position, his head spinning. He tucked his head between his knees, willing the sharp pain to go away.

“You should have… given me… the palisman…” Belos gasped, “Hunter… you know… better… than to set off… the curse…”

Hunter closed his eyes, sick to his stomach. “Camila s-said… you shouldn’t blame me…” he whimpered, rubbing the back of his head.

“What was that?”

Hunter hugged himself, his shoulders shaking. “N-nothing.”

“Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be the bad guy. I hate to be the villain. And if you’d just listen the first time, things like this wouldn’t happen.

Belos put a hand on his head. Hunter was sure it was supposed to be comforting, but the touch sent another spike of pain hammering through his skull. He whimpered, and Belos shook his head, walking out.

“I do wish you wouldn’t make me be the bad guy, Hunter.”

Red fluttered through the window when Belos was gone, tweeting in concern and landing on Hunter’s hand. Hunter retched as his head swam, tears running down his face.

“I—I want to go b-back,” he sniffed, scrubbing at his eyes, “I want—I want—”

Red gently pecked his hand, and flew to the window, chirping.

Hunter looked up. “R-run away again? B-belos would just find me.”

Red tweeted that Belos couldn’t possibly search the whole isles, and there were plenty of places to hide. And people who would help him.

Hunter staggered to his feet, stumbling to the window. “How?” he croaked.

Red shifted into its staff form, flapping its wings. The staff floated, and Hunter hesitantly climbed on, clutching onto the staff for dear life as his palisman took off, shooting out the window.

To their credit, they made it all the way to the wall before Kikimora swooped next to them on a massive hand demon.

“Return to your room, or I will be forced to take action against you, Golden Guard.”

“Where does she keep getting those?” Hunter muttered. He nudged them down into a dive, aiming for an arch that was just a little bit blurry—how hard had he hit his head?

Almost immediately, the patch on his arm burned, sending a shockwave of pain up his arm. Hunter fell off of the staff, tumbling to the ground. Red stopped, fluttering back to him as Kikimora strode across the ground towards him. With a wave of her hand, ropes appeared, snaking around Hunter’s arms and dragging him back towards the keep.

Kikimora ‘tsked.’ “The emperor will have to hear of this. A good thing I was here to stop you—if you’d gotten out of my range of sight, I wouldn’t be able to activate your patch.”

“What—a shame.”

Red dove down and pecked at Kikimora’s head, shrieking and undoing her hair tie so that her hair fell into her eyes. Hunter bolted as his coven patch returned to normal, his palisman fluttering after him.

HUNTER!

Hunter froze as Belos’ voice echoed around him. Red chirped for him to come on, hurry, but Hunter couldn’t move.

Belos was angry.

Really angry.

Hunter hadn’t known the difference until now. Before, it had always been a cold, calculating anger. He could pin it now more as… Displeasure, maybe?

But this was angry.

At him.

Before it had just been disappointment. Now? Now he was driving Belos up the wall. Belos was actually going to lose it at him.

His mind screamed at him to run, go, go, go, but his legs wouldn’t move as Belos strode towards him, huge and rageful. One hand reached out and snatched Red out of the air, and finally, Hunter could move, fueled by blind panic.

“G-give it back!”

“No. You can’t be trusted with it. Running away, Hunter? After I gave you another chance? This creature of wild magic is a bad influence on you. I will be taking your pet away until you prove you can be responsible.”

Hunter grabbed for Red as the little bird struggled against Belos’ grip. “No!”

Belos grabbed his shoulder to stop him, adding a new layer of bruises. “Stop this at once,” he hissed, “You are behaving like a child. I raised you better than this!”

He squeezed Red tight, and at the cardinal’s chirp of pain, Hunter stopped struggling.

“You will return to your room,” Belos hissed, “You will stay there. If I catch you trying to run away again…” he squeezed Red just a little harder. “…just don’t run away, Hunter.”

Hunter nodded. “Yes, sir,” he murmured in a hoarse whisper, trudging back through the palace while the coven scouts and guards whispered. He struggled to latch the door, his head spinning, and after the third miss, he gave up, kicking the door, then hopping up and down on one foot in pain with a yell.

Hunter flopped back on his bed, tears pricking at his eyes.

“I want to go home.” The whisper escaped his lips, and panic built up in his chest. He wasn’t ever going to get out of here. Belos would keep him locked up forever, and he would never see Vee or Camila again, and he was trapped, and he couldn’t get out, and no one here cared about him, and he would die here, alone, and no one cared, and he was trapped.

Hunter unbuckled his chest plate, throwing it across the room with a certain kind of savage pleasure as it clanged against the floor. It had used to feel protective, like a shell shielding him from the world. Now it just felt restrictive, like a cage. The cloak followed, the coven symbol on the pin gleaming mockingly at him.

Hunter scrambled down halfway under his bed, pulling out the clothes Camila had given him, and he changed into them, pulling the over-sized hoodie over his head with a sigh of relief. He pulled the hood up and retracted his arms into the sleeves, curling his knees to his chest and chewing on the ends of the hoodie strings.

The fabric smelled like the Noceda house.

Hunter buried his face in his arms, his stomach nauseous.

I want to go home.

Hunter drifted off into a half-dazed dream, voices from coven guards floating in and out.

The Golden Guard is just a kid.

Whoof. He doesn’t look too good.

You think he’s sick?

What is he wearing?

Hunter blearily opened his eyes. Ugh—his head was still throbbing, little pulses of pain emanating from the back of his head where he’d hit the bedframe. Hunter shuffled to his first aid kit, pulling out a pain patch and slapping it on the back of his neck. The pain in his head subsided, but the disoriented, displaced feeling stayed.

“Golden Guard.”

Hunter flinched at Belos’ voice, turning around to see his uncle looking down at him, and casting an irritated glance at the messy heap that was his uniform. Hunter drooped. “Sir…”

“What. Are you wearing.”

Hunter tugged at the ends of his hoodie sleeves. “I just thought—that if I was staying up here anyway,” he said in a small voice, “and if I wasn’t going to leave, that it didn’t really… matter what I wore?”

Belos’ lip curled. “Put your uniform back on. Then you will join me. There is something I want you to see.”

Belos swept out, and Hunter sat down on his bed with a whump, still dazed and groggy. He stared bleakly at his uniform, then started to change with a sigh. Was there any point in resisting? He couldn’t run away, he couldn’t get back to the human realm. Maybe… maybe if he just stopped acting up, things could go back to the way they’d been. Belos would stop being angry for running away eventually, if he just behaved himself. If he proved that he could still be loyal, if he could prove that he was still useful… maybe he would be able to leave the keep again. He could work on getting his palisman back. He just had to get back into Belos’ good graces.

Hunter folded the human clothes up neatly, burying his face in the hoodie for a minute, then pushing the pile back under the bed. He poked his head out into the hallway, where Belos was waiting.

“Come along, Hunter.”

Hunter trudged next to his uncle, zoning out as they passed through hallways until they came to the dungeon. Hunter blinked, swallowing hard. Well, he hadn’t thought life could get much worse, but apparently, Belos didn’t care about appearances anymore.

But Belos led him to the very back, to a solitary cell.

“I thought you’d like a reminder of your time in the human realm,” Belos purred.

Hunter peered in the cell, and his heart stopped in his chest.

Vee.

Chained to the wall, bruises showing on her face.

He shook himself, forcing himself to think through it. No, that was Luz, not Vee. Which wasn’t ideal either, but he knew Luz could handle herself. “What—what is she doing here?”

“She’s attempting to build a portal. I want to know how close she is.” Belos put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him towards the cell. “And you are going to find out for me. After all, you’re some sort of human expert now, hm? You spent time inside of her home, you know her family.” Belos held out his coven staff. “Prove to me that you are still loyal. Prove that you can leave the people in the human realm behind. Find out about her portal by any means possible. Perhaps if I see you can be trusted, I’ll even return your palisman to you.”

That clicked in Hunter’s numb mind. Prove his loyalty—even if he wasn’t sure about it himself, doing this could get that loyalty back, right? Prove he was useful, prove that Belos could still use him, and then he could get back to some semblance of normal. He couldn’t get back to the human realm—he might as well stop moping about it and make the best of his situation.

But that was Camila’s daughter!

That was Luz, the first person to be nice to him!

It didn’t help that she and Vee were identical.

Prove that you can be trusted.

Xxx

Luz lifted her head as the cell door creaked open. “Back for more?” she quipped shakily.

Hunter shuffled in, closing the door behind him. “Uh. Hey.”

“Oh, are we playing good cop, bad cop? Warden Wrath was the bad cop, now you’re the good cop? Fun.”

Hunter looked down at the ground, his knuckles white on his coven staff. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, “Please just tell me about your portal.”

“Ehehehe, no.” Luz twirled a finger in the air. “Props to you for asking nicely, though, that is a nice change.” She glanced at Hunter. “Hey—you okay?” his face was pale, way too pale, and his eyes didn’t seem… quite focused. Then she spotted the healing patch on his neck. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

“I’m supposed to be asking the questions.”

“What, I can’t express concern for my jailer?”

His hands shook. “You’re in a much worse position, here. You’re not looking great, either.”

“Well, yeah. I’m the prisoner. Hunter. Seriously. Are you okay?”

Hunter glanced at the door. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Right, that was a big fat lie.

“I—I met your mother.”

Luz felt a steely cold settle over her soul. “If you’ve hurt her I will—”

“No! I…” Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this. Luz. Please. It is really, really, really important to me that you tell me about your portal.”

There was a certain kind of desperation in his voice that made Luz pause. “…Hunter?” she asked quietly, “What happened?”

He glanced back at the door again. “I—I went to the human realm,” he said in a low voice, “I met Camila and Vee.”

Luz’s eyes widened. “And? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine.” He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I stayed with them for a while, but Belos came to take me back, and everything since then has just been… he has my palisman, Luz.” Hunter’s chest heaved frantically, and he ran a hand through his hair. “He has my palisman, and I keep making him really mad, and Kikimora-!”

“Hey—Hunter—whoa—deep breaths.”

He looked like he might just be sick on the floor of her cell, but he inhaled deeply.

Man. She couldn’t just leave him like that—and she definitely didn’t want Lil Rascal to get hurt. “Okay. Look. Hunter. You can tell Belos that I’m nowhere close to finishing that portal, and I’m nearly out of titan’s blood, anyway.”

He squinted at her. “Is that the truth?”

Actually, she still had a good amount of titan’s blood left, but Belos didn’t need to know that. “Unfortunately, yes. Hunter, look—I hope you get your palisman back. I really do. But also… I’ve broken out of here before. I’ll do it again. Just… don’t try to stop me when I do, okay? I don’t want to hurt you, I think you’re dealing with enough right now. But I will fight to escape. I can promise you that.”

He rubbed his arms. “I tried to run away,” he admitted in a whisper, “It… didn’t go well. Best of luck, but… don’t get your hopes up. If Belos wants you to stay here, you won’t be going anywhere.”

Xxx

Hunter blankly watched Red hop around his room. He should have felt happy he’d gotten his palisman back. Or at the very least, he should have felt relieved.

But he just felt tired. He’d won this time. He’d gotten Red back safe and sound, he hadn’t even had to hurt Luz to get the little bird.

But it wasn’t over, he knew that. This was just a respite until Belos confiscated his palisman again, or Kikimora decided she wanted to hurt him again, or Belos decided he wanted something else.

And it was just going to keep on going.

Best behavior. Prove he was trustworthy, banish the lingering feelings from his time in the human realm. He could do this—he’d always had to claw his way to the top, he could do it again.

He heard yelling and explosions outside, and he went to the window. A small figure in a blue cape was running for the walls, knocking out coven guards right and left. Luz.

Hunter leaned on the windowsill with a small smile, watching her progress. She made it all the way to the walls, and slapped down a glyph, a pillar of ice rocketing her towards the top.

Only for an attack from Kikimora to knock her off. He winced as she hit the ground, and coven guards grabbed her arms, dragging her back inside. The smile faded from his face, and he closed the window.

Red warbled sadly, and Hunter sighed.

“Yeah. I hoped she’d make it, too.”

He waited about an hour, then rifled through his first aid kit, pulling out a few pain patches. He slowly pushed the door open, checking both ways for anyone coming down the hallway, then crept out, palisman on his shoulder. He snuck through the hallways and down to the dungeon, unlocking Luz’s cell door with a creak, and slipping inside, checking one more time for guards.

She lifted her head when he came in, wincing. “Oh. Heyyyyyy. Are we… doing another interrogation?”

“Shh.” Hunter pulled up her sleeve, putting a few pain patches on her arm, then rolling the sleeve back down. “Those should make it hurt less,” he whispered, “They’re more effective if you put ‘em on the back of your neck, but Belos or one of the guards would see it there.” He shuffled back, rubbing his arm. “Sorry I can’t do more, but I… I’d get in really big trouble.”

She managed a faint grin. “Awwwww thankssss, Hunter. You’re not… such a bad guy.”

Hunter glanced out the little window in the cell door. Still no one out there. Of course, Belos could be watching at any moment, but he was pretty certain that he would have heard an angry voice telling him to get out if he was. “Do you think… isn’t Amity Blight going to come for you?”

Luz shook her head. “I… was on a solitary training retreat… to the Knee… my friends won’t expect me back for a while.” She blinked at him. “Thanks for… for helping me.”

“’s not a lot.” Hunter turned to go. “I’ll leave you alone, now. In case you want to try escaping again.”

“No, wait!”

He paused at the door, looking back at her.

“Stay and talk to me? How’s my mom?”

Hunter sat down on the floor, crisscross with his hands on his ankles. “She misses you. She wants you to come home. But she and Vee are… they’re happy, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Your mom, she… she took me in. Even after she found out I was your enemy. She was nice to me. I… I was happy there.”

“Why’d you come back?”

Hunter shook his head. “Didn’t have a choice. Belos came for me, and if I hadn’t come… he just would have hurt your mom and taken me back anyway. He can go to the human realm whenever he wants, he has the door, and he has enough blood in the key to go back as many times as he needs to drag me back.”

Luz was quiet for a moment. “What if… he didn’t have the key?”

“Wh-What?”

“If we got the key away from him—”

Hunter stood up so fast it made his head spin. “I can’t steal the key! Are you insane?!”

“Insanely clever! Ah, come on, I’ve tricked him before.”

Hunter shook his head. “I want to escape. Not get myself killed. Or worse.” He went to the door. “The sooner you come to terms with the truth, be better off you’ll be. We’re both stuck here—or at least, you are until your friends realize you’re missing. If you keep trying to escape, you’ll just keep getting hurt. Belos doesn’t let prisoners go.”

Hunter left the cell, closing and locking the door behind him. He turned around, and yelped. “E-emperor Belos!”

His uncle shook his head. “Hunter, what are you doing down here?”

“Getting… the human… to trust me?” he tried.

Belos held a hand out. “Palisman.”

Hunter grabbed Red, holding him close. “I swear I wasn’t going to help her escape, I promise!”

“Palisman, Hunter. I don’t want to keep taking your pet, but if you keep proving you can’t be trusted, then I have no choice.”

Hunter backed up, pressing his back to the cell door and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey, goop man!” Luz called from inside of the cell, “Leave him alone! I’m the problem!”

Belos glanced in the cell. “Quiet.”

“No! You leave Hunter alone, he didn’t do anything!”

Xxx

Luz waited, holding her breath. She was not going to be the reason Hunter or his palisman got hurt—he’d just been trying to help her.

Belos’ eye stared into her cell. “Are you really so eager to rush your own petrification, human?”

“Oh, please, is that supposed to be scary? You’ve already failed to kill me several times.”

Belos straightened. “If you two enjoy each other’s company so much, why don’t you have a little sleepover together?” he said in a voice steely with rage. Luz heard a yelp from Hunter, and then the sound of a door locking. “No—wait—Uncle, I promise I won’t come down again, don’t—”

“Goodnight, Hunter.”

The dungeon door closed behind Belos, plunging them into darkness.

Luz could hear ragged breathing from the cell next to hers. Oh, boy. Not again. “Hey—Hunter, buddy. Deep breath. Deep breath, buddy. You’re okay. I’m right over here. It’s just a dark cell, it’ll be okay. Deep breath.” She heard Lil Rascal’s chirp. “Hey, wait, you still have your palisman? Just break out!”

“Why, so Belos can catch me and lock me up somewhere else?” Hunter snarled miserably.

“Oh. Yeah. At least here you’ve got company, eh?”

She heard a deep sigh.

Xxx

“Hey. I’m sorry I got you in trouble.”

Hunter leaned against the wall. “I haven’t been out of trouble since I got back here.”

Luz chuckled. “That doesn’t sound like you, golden boy.”

“Thanks for… for standing up for me. If he’d taken Red away again I—” Red snuggled against him, and Hunter scratched the palisman’s head. “Luz? Why did you—why did you run away from home?”

Luz was quiet for a moment. “I… I wasn’t trying to run away. Not really. I always planned on going back, I just… everything happened so FAST, and then I’d destroyed the portal—or I thought I did, anyway. I just… I never fit in. Guess it sounds like a pretty silly reason to run away to you, huh?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just—I mean—I love my mom a lot. And I know she tries her hardest. And I did feel bad about leaving her behind—it was just that the rest of my world… I didn’t fit in, and I wanted something more. But Belos is horrible to you. I’d understand if you wanted to run away.”

Hunter curled his knees up to his chest. “It wasn’t always like this. It used to be—well, better. He wasn’t ever as caring or kind as Camila, but he… he wasn’t this bad. But then I ran away to the human realm, and I just… He’s really upset, you know? Like I’m sure your mom is, too. It’ll settle down eventually, I guess, he can’t be mad forever. It would probably help if I stopped getting into trouble.”

Luz was quiet for a moment. “But what if it shouldn’t settle down?”

“What?”

“Hunter, you don’t have to take this! Fight back!”

Hunter shook his head, nauseous at the thought. “It’s not… You can do that, Luz, you live in a world where a—a plucky attitude can get you out of a bad situation, and good wins, and the power of friendship or whatever can do anything. That’s not how it is for me, Luz. If I keep standing up, I’m just going to keep getting knocked down. It doesn’t matter what the issue is, the fight doesn’t end until I’ve lost. I can’t win, Luz.”

“So you’re just going to give up?”

“Yeah, okay? I’m giving up. It’s not just about me anymore—I have to watch out for Red, too. If I keep fighting back, Belos will hurt me, he’ll hurt Red—it’s just not worth it.”

“But—”

“I’m done talking about it, Luz.”

“Fine.”

There was a small explosion from the cell next to him, and Luz burst out into the open with a small grin. “What if you didn’t have to be here?”

Hunter’s heart started to thud in his chest. “Wh-what?”

Luz drew a glyph on the floor, and vines erupted from the ground, ripping his cell door off of its hinges. “I’m breaking you out, Mr. Tragic, let’s go!”

“I—I can’t, he’ll catch us!”

Luz shrugged. “Oh, well.” She drew another glyph, and a block of ice rose up, encasing him.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Kidnapping you!” Luz slapped a fire glyph on the back of the ice block, and Hunter shot forward towards the door, Luz clinging to the back.

“Stop it! You’re going to get us both in trouble!”

“Belos’ fault, really, for leaving you down there with me.”

They shot up the stairs, and Red fluttered after them, turning into its staff form. Luz grinned. “Good idea!”

She used a plant glyph to tie Hunter’s ice block to the staff and sat on it. “Let’s go!”

“Traitor,” Hunter grumbled to his palisman, but hope fought his panic. Luz had nearly made it last time—and with his palisman, she had a way to get over the wall.

They zoomed through the hallways, Luz immobilizing coven guards along the way. Hunter’s heart pounded, leaping up to his mouth. They were going to make it—this time, they were really going to—

A blast of magical energy barely missed Luz, and she dove to the side, glaring down at Kikimora, who was standing next to Belos, her finger smoking. “Hey!” Luz yelled angrily, “I’ve got Hunter—you really going to risk me dropping him?”

For a moment, just a moment, Hunter thought he saw Belos hesitate. But then he nodded to Kikimora, and another energy blast slammed into Luz, knocking her out of the sky and severing the vines securing Hunter to the staff.

Wind whipped past his face as he fell, but he barely even noticed, his mind numb.

Belos would let him die rather than escape.

Red dove down with a shriek, slamming into the ice block so hard it broke. Hunter grabbed the staff, hanging on for dear life as he scrambled to get into a sitting position. Then he angled the staff down. “GO!”

They dove down towards Luz as she fell, wind whistling in his ears. They shot past her, and Hunter pulled up. Luz slammed into him, and they plummeted again, Red straining to hold them both up. They skidded into the courtyard, tumbling to a stop, and Hunter flopped on the ground with a groan, Luz unconscious on the ground.

Belos glided over, peering down at him as coven guards hauled Luz away again. “Excellent work, Hunter.”

“I almost died!” The words burst out of his mouth before he could stop them. “You were going to let me die!”

“I knew you could handle it,” Belos said dismissively. His eyes glinted. “Besides, I won’t negotiate with rebels, and she should learn that.” He started to walk back towards the keep. “Clean yourself up, you look a mess.”

Red tweeted anxiously, hopping up to him.

Hunter hauled himself into a sitting position with a wince, picking up the bird. “’m okay.”

Red chirped again, glancing in the direction the guards had taken Luz.

“I know—I want her to get out, too, but I just… I don’t think she can make it out of these walls, the perimeter is just too secure.”

Hunter watched after Belos, the gears in his mind quietly clicking.

But what if there were a way for her to escape without ever leaving the walls?

Xxx

Luz was half asleep when she heard it. A thump and a yelp from the guard that Belos had permanently posted, then the click of a key in a lock. She somehow just knew from the sound that it was Hunter, even before he poked his head in.

“Okay, we’re getting out of here.” He unlocked her from the wall, and she fell, her legs wobbly. “Whoa!” He caught her, lowering her gently to the floor and pulling out a couple of the pain patches he’d used before, pasting them to the back of her neck. “I’m going to get you home.”

“Home?”

Hunter held an arm out, and his palisman fluttered through the door and landed on his arm, the portal key in its mouth. He took the key. “You’re taking the portal out of here, back to Camila. Oh—and I’m coming with you.”

Luz blinked as the aching in her muscles and the throbbing in her head subsided. “How’d you get that? And what about Belos, aren’t you worried he’ll see us?”

“Well, to answer both of your questions…” Hunter winced. “Let’s just say that I set up some traps specifically designed to set off his curse, and Red lured him in.” His face paled, like what he’d done had just now caught up to him. “Ohhhhhhhhhh, he’s going to be so mad.”

“Well, we’ll just have get out of here before his curse recedes,” Luz said confidently. She hauled herself up. “Lead the way!”

They crept through the hallways, Hunter jumping at every sound.

And then Luz heard it.

A drip, drip, drip, and ragged breathing.

Hunter went white as a sheet, and he turned to face the noise, jabbing one finger behind him. “Down the hallway, giant doors, can’t miss it. I’ll misdirect him and meet you there.”

“Hunter are you—”

“Go!”

Xxx

Hunter took a deep breath and tucked Red and the key into his pocket as Belos shambled towards him, the ooze of the curse dripping on the floor.

“U-uncle Belos, you shouldn’t be out like this, let me help you get somewhere—”

“The human,” Belos rasped, “She’s escaped. I can feel it. And your palisman is helping her.”

“Then she’s—she’s probably outside, again, making another go at the walls, we should—”

“No. She’s… trying to return home. She has the key.”

Hunter ran around the emperor, standing in front of him. “But she doesn’t want to go home! She likes it here, besides, why would she be so stupid as to head deeper into the keep, that doesn’t make any sense, it makes way more sense for her to have stolen the key for the blood in it and she’s probably going to keep trying to make her portal, I mean—”

“Step aside, Hunter.”

Hunter backpedaled, keeping himself between Belos and the throne room door. “Really, we should go to the walls and look for her, she tends to make a mess of the guards, and—”

Belos’ curse lashed out, throwing him against the wall. Hunter collapsed in a dazed heap, blinking stars out of his eyes. “I said to step aside,” Belos growled. He put one hand on Hunter’s head. “Just stay down, Hunter. I can still pretend you had nothing to do with this. You don’t have to implicate yourself with her.”

He strode towards the door, leaving Hunter crumpled on the ground. He slowly pulled out the key, clutching it tightly.

She’s… trapped.

Xxx

Luz hopped from one foot to another. “C’mon, Hunter, where are you?”

The door creaked open, and she brightened. “Hunter?”

“I’m afraid Hunter will not be joining us,” Belos’ voice oozed.

A chill ran down Luz’s spine. “What did you do to him?” she demanded.

“You and your family turned him against me,” Belos hissed, “I’m sure it will distress him, but you must be eliminated.”

Luz backed up, reaching for her glyphs. “I’m not so easy to take down!”

Belos tilted his head. “Maybe not. But there’s someone else who posed an even greater influence on him—perhaps you will escape.” The emperor leaned in. “But I know exactly where to find your mother and the basilisk.”

There was a thump, and a singular boot thudded to the ground, bouncing off of the back of Belos’ head. He turned around. “What—”

In a flash of gold, Hunter appeared just above Belos, his palisman in its staff form and cackling with red electricity. Hunter swung the staff, catching Belos right in the mask. Belos fell, and Hunter landed, breathing heavily. “Don’t—you—touch—them—” he snarled.

Luz crowed, half-tackling him in a hug. “You did it!”

“Huh?”

“You stood up to him, Hunter, you fought back!”

He glanced down at Belos, face pale. “… I did. Oh, titan. I am so dead.”

“Then let’s get out of here!”

Hunter clicked the key, and the portal hummed, opening up. Luz raced back into the human realm, turning back. “Come on!”

Hunter was busy tugging on his shoe, hopping on one foot. “Hang on—”

He took a step forward, then stopped, his eyes widening and darting down.

Luz glanced at his feet.

They were covered in Belos’ cursed mud, holding him in place. The emperor groaned

Luz started forward. “Hang on, I’m coming, Hunter!”

He held his hand out. “No! If you set foot back here, he’ll get you, too!”

“I’m not just going to leave you!”

Hunter held up his staff. “Take care of Red.”

Luz felt tears press at the corners of her eyes. “Hunter—”

Hunter tossed the staff through the air, and Luz caught it, catching the palisman as it transformed. “Are you sure?”

Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away. “Belos will kill it if it stays. And I… I don’t want it to see this.”

Red shrieked shrilly, snapping and clawing at Luz’s hands, struggling to get back to its witch.

“Hunter, just hang on,” Luz begged, “I can help you get out—we’re escaping together!”

Hunter shook his head. “Belos can’t have the portal. We can’t risk it.” His voice cracked, and he pulled out the key again. He clicked it, throwing it through the portal as it closed. “Say hi to Vee and Camila for me.”

The key clanked to the ground in front of Luz.

And the portal was gone.

Xxx

Hunter watched once again as the portal closed, trapped on the wrong side.

Emperor Belos rose up behind him with a growl, his face melting and reforming and melting and reforming. The cursed mud on Hunter’s feet crept up further, oozing and cold, but also burning at the same time, like acid wherever it touched him.

“You,” Belos growled, “are a horrible, disobedient child.”

Hunter squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenching into fists. “Then get rid of me,” he challenged.

The mud crept all the way up to his neck.

“No, I don’t think so. I have a much better way to keep you in line.”

Cursed mud covered Hunter’s mouth and nose, and his back arched instinctively. He held his breath as long as he could, but his lungs forced him to open his mouth, and the curse crept in, filling his lungs. Hunter choked and screamed, and then he was falling into an inky black sea. He clawed for the surface.

Willful child, a voice whispered, Just submit. Give in. Won’t that be easier than fighting?

No matter how hard he swam, Hunter couldn’t—reach—the top—

You cannot win this fight. Just give in, and it will all be over.

Despair swept over Hunter, and he let himself sink.

Maybe… it is… easier…

He didn’t know long he was there, sinking into the darkness.

Time was irrelevant.

At least nothing hurt him here. It was just… endless nothingness.

At least it was until a shaft of light pierced through the darkness, and a voice called his name.

Ch 7

#this one is so long asdfghjkl #toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #my writing #luz noceda #toh hunter #emperor belos #tw: child abuse #tw: emotional manipulation #the golden guard #kikimora

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anileahvictoria · 3 years

Text

The next morning Toothless yawned and was about to stretch out his wings when he remembered the sleeping boy tucked away. He gently lifted his wing and peered down at Toothpick, who, to Toothless's surprise, was wide awake. Toothpick waived sheepishly, his lips pulled up in a toothy expression. Toothless had never seen anything like it but assumed it must be positive sense Toothpick's emotions weren't scared (maybe a little nervous), mad, or sad. Perhaps it was some sort of greeting Toothless decided, and he pulled back his own lips, doing his best to mimic the greeting. "Huh. Toothless." The boy said, "I could've sworn you had teeth." Toothless ignored the comment and slid the boy out from his wing. Toothpick landed with an "oof" and then a more pained "Oh, that hurts." Toothless's ears perked up, remembering the boy's wound and recalling the boy's reaction to seeing said wound. He held his tail fin in front of Toothpick's face, blocking his view of the leg. Or what was left of the leg, anyway. "Do you mind?" Toothpick started to protest, but immediately shut his mouth when Toothless snarled at him. Apparently, you do." Toothless snorted, then went back to examining the wound. Almost the entire lower half of Toothpick's leg was missing, only about a claw's length remaining under the knee. At the moment, it wasn't bleeding, Toothless's blast having been hot enough to close it on impact. That isn't to say it looked pretty. It was badly burned, but some dragon spit would heal that up pretty well, and it was reddish-black with dried blood. The worst part, other than the missing limb, was the pants leg had unfortunately dried into the wound. That was going to need to be addressed eventually, and when it was, it was going to be painful. But there was nothing Toothless could do about that at the moment. At least the boy wouldn't lose any more blood as long as the wound stayed closed. "Is it bad?" The boy finally asked. Toothless made a low grumble as if to say something like, "It certainly isn't good." "Can I see?" Toothpick asked, tentatively attempting to push Toothless's tale out of the way. Toothless tensed at the touch and whipped his tale away, growling. "Sorry! Sorry. I promise I won't pass out. I just want to... Oh." Toothpick looked down at his missing lower leg and foot, swallowed hard, then said, "C-Could be worse…" and passed out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

#httyd #httyd fan fic #hiccup httyd #hiccup haddock #hiccup #toothless httyd #toothless #how to train your dragon

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january31st · 3 years

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Ablaze: Chapter 7

Cruella (2021) x reader

A/N: To the anon from the original request, no idea where this story went. This has gotten turned on it’s head but I’ve enjoyed writing every bit of it! Yes you might have realised we’re nearing the end here, there’s this one, then the next I’m still not sure weather to make it an epilog or just a normal last chapter, tying the last loose ends. (Also, if anyone has some divine insight on a part two for this I am open to it! Yes this is my child I love writing this timeline)

I’m kinda scared about this, endings are always the hardest part for me, that might have been why it’s taken forever (thousand apologies for that). If you hate the way this ends you can just hush because I might start hating it too, at least you got an ending, that would be the first in my writing.

And in other news, I have very much not forgotten the other requests my comrades, they’ll be coming straight up after this is done, as well as a new idea (!!!! those come once in a blue moon) I had that I’m super super excited for! I might publish that as one single part, I still don’t know but it’ll be longer than my long chapters.

But if any of you reading also read my AHS stuff, I’m sorry but I’ve lost some of the inspiration for it as of now, those might be dormant for a bit, it’s just that I don’t find the plot as interesting or well mapped out enough to write it over these Cruella ones.

Anyways, sorry for the long ass speech, please enjoy!

Warnings: hospital setting? but other than that nothing I can think of, if there’s anything I should add here please do tell

|| Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 8 || Wattpad link ||

~3000 words

Cruella had gone home for the first time without saying anything substantial to you.

The doctors said you would be kept in the hospital for extra tests, and also to monitor how your condition would progress. As soon as he got the notice that you had woken up, Artie flew to the hospital to see you and gave you a hug so tight that it made you squeal in pain.

“Oh love you can’t believe how happy I am that you’re awake! It’s been awful, you know you’re everything to me, life just isn’t the same when I know you’re not around.” he said, happy tears sprinkling his face.

“I know sweetheart” you cooed “I know, I hate to do this to you, I can only imagine how bad it’s sucked for you. You must have been thinking about your mum, I know Artie, I’m sorry and I know how you feel about hospitals”

“It’s okay babe, you’re back, no more of that. When you’re back on your feet we’re going travelling.” You tried to protest but he interrupted you “No- I don’t care. We’re doing it again. I miss being on the move with you. Those long drives when we didn’t have a destination? Late nights in the middle of nowhere under the stars? All those constellations you tried to teach me?” He laughed with tears still in his eyes “I can’t remember a single one, but I promise love, I promise I’ll learn them for you. You’ll be such a proud momma”

You smiled at him, your very own tears wanting to mirror his, but you tried to think of something else to stop them before they could. And of course that something else had to be Cruella, which wasn’t particularly helpful to your cause.

“What was up with her?” you asked after a bit, and he looked at you in confusion, also being woken from his thoughts. “Cruella”

“What do you mean?”

“She was here when I woke up. And I know she was there when it happened but why would she stick around?”

“Well babe you might know the answer to that already.” he said with a lift of his brows “She’s nuts for you. She barely stepped foot outside your room. She didn’t even eat for the first couple of days, she just slept on the chair here”

You didn’t plan on telling him about the kiss anyways, there was no need to feed this idea, especially not now that he was taking things that way. It couldn’t have meant that much. She was just relieved that you had woken up, nothing else. She hates you, the only reason why she did that was because your death wouldn’t be on her hands.

...But you were also a bit of an ass to her. Looking back, there was no need for you to act like that. And you couldn’t erase from your mind the face she had when she left. Though the world could never believe it to be possible, you might have managed to hurt Cruella De Vil.

You made a grimace “Oh.. So I was a jerk to her when I woke up”

“What did you say?”

“Well, I joked for a bit and then I asked why she was here. I insisted on that for a bit, because, well- Before I left for the warehouse we kinda had an argument. You know how I am, I just need to move on with my life when things get complicated, and I can’t understand what’s happening between us, because I do things that later on I can’t justify doing. And she said she owed me because I saved her, and you know I can’t stand that idea of a pay-back, be it in that ‘I owe you’ or just straight up revenge. And I want to move on but she won’t let me.”

He looked at you thoughtfully, and after a pause he said “So babe, here’s the thing. And I know, I know that’s how you are and how you have always been, and in other situations I never had anything against it because I trust your judgement of things, and the last thing I want is you getting hurt, but in this case I think you’re rushing away. I know she’s scary, anything involving her is complicated and takes a certain level of… getting used to? I’m not saying you should ignore your gut if you don’t like her at all, but I also don’t think that’s the case. Maybe try to hear her out, she’s got more to her than her brand suggests, she’s nothing like the Baroness was.”

“But it’s not like I didn’t try. Or- Well, she said something while I was out, but then I tried to make her say it and she just left, she looked really upset.”

“Babe, you and I both know what she must have said then”

“Nah….”you looked at him for a long second, shook your head in answer, knowing exactly what he was implying “Artie, that's just you acting like a cupid.”

“But then how would you justify the fact that she stayed? You know her, she’s all business first, she always has stuff to do.”

The guilt that had been building up was at its peak now, you didn’t want to believe it, you wanted to forget her since that damned morning at the shop, but it was impossible, she always came back.

Artie grabbed your hand and said “You might not want to hear this but we’re not supposed to run forever. Somewhere in our destiny there’s someone who’s impossible to avoid. And that might also be when you’ll realise that there are still safe places, and it’s okay to be tired of letting people get out of your life. The cycle seems endless but cycles do break”

You tried to swallow around your tears but they just fell instead “I’m not sure they do Artie”

“Oh, close the shades, of course they do!”

Artie tried to lift your spirits for a while but was mostly unsuccessful, you couldn’t stop feeling bad for not saying anything else to her and you also didn’t want to believe anything that didn’t come directly from her. Artie always had the habit of insisting that everyone fancied you anyways.

And then to really help with your mood, the doctor came in and told you about your last tests, how things weren’t looking too nice, there wasn’t much they could do to help you, it was all a matter of you being strong enough to recover. To help with the pain there was only really the morphine, which after the last dose had left you particularly drowsy and very susceptible to crying. There was a lot of falling asleep with weird dreams, to waking up paranoid about anything and everything for what would be the rest of the day.

“Artie I’m scared.” you said, the room dark around you. That and your drugged-up state made it so you didn’t notice that Cruella was standing by the door, waiting for the right moment to come in.

“Sweetheart I’ve known you for most of our lives, in that time you’ve never been afraid of anything for a single second. I know this is scary too but you’ve walked into a fire just a couple days ago, for heaven’s sake!”

“Yeah but I could walk out, running away was always an option. Actually, running away was the only option. Right now I can’t run anywhere. The road stopped Artie.”

“Nonsense, you’ll make it out like you always do.”

“How can I do that when I’m tied down here? I can’t do anything to get better, and neither can you, even the docs can’t”

“Hey listen, you may not be able to consciously fight it, but if you believed you could, it would be easier. Being in this wretched mood forever isn’t going to help. And you’re higher than a bat’s ass, you’ll be fine babe.”

“I’m tired of this. Nothing makes sense, I do everything wrong. I’m like, the biggest asshole ever! Like I can’t just fucking do the right thing, like, if the queen saw me she’d use that sword for the lords and chop my feet off.” He laughed at you, and you protested and cried some more.

He looked at the door and spotted her, and with that he made up an excuse to leave the two of you alone. “You need to rest sweetheart, and so do I. I’m going back home but I promise I’ll be back first thing in the morning okay?”

“Mkay, and bring me a bag of those crispies I like?” you asked.

“Of course babes” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

And then when he left she got back in, clearly in a better mood, she had put on her makeup again and chose a stunning outfit as always, and though you couldn’t know it, she did it only to try and gain some control back over herself. You smiled at her, you couldn’t help it, you were in awe.

Even though you wanted to move on from her, there was that part of you that wouldn’t let you. And it hadn't really happened before, usually it was easy to accept and move on, but she had a chokehold on you. Not only that, but this was also different from the other times because you had made the conscious choice of going after her, whatever your motive was. You were drawn to her like a magnet, and right now the distance you were trying to put between the two of you hurt so much more, and was so much harder to keep than letting her win you over.

“Hello darling”

“Hi” you answered through your smile.

She stood by the foot of your bed, keeping her distance and her ground, gathering the last bits of courage she needed to say what she wanted to say. But you didn’t know that, to you she just looked as imposing as ever.

“I’m sorry” you said before she got the chance to speak first. She lifted her eyebrows at you. “For what I said. I didn’t realise you stayed here the whole time. I was a total bug, like, not ace at all, insolent city. So uncivilised.” She chuckled at you and your drowsy state. “No! I mean it, don’t laugh, I wasn’t being funny this time! I shouldn’t have said all that”

Those terrible, nightmarish days, those days that melted and mixed onto each other, where she couldn’t tell apart her life before or after you got shot, nor the difference between an hour or the next, they only made sense when she stepped back into Hell Hall. In her hands the shards of both the timeline of events and her spirit.

With each of the steps she climbed, she took a piece and studied it, trying to make sense of things - of herself. When she reached her opulent bedroom she weaved each string of thought together to form a tapestry that could be held together, something that would resemble the ones surrounding her. Because in painting the image maybe she could also put herself together, make a plan.

And when she did, she walked back into the hospital determined to make a point, just to get to it and be done, whatever the outcome was. She would be objective and concise, no nonsense, so her life could continue.

But in her mind there could be no sight that would soften her heart more than the one before her. She expected to fight, to have an argument, to get frustrated, and for those she was ready. But you had nothing to offer to her other than your sweet apologies, and ones you shouldn’t have to make at all, you had just woken up from a damned coma. So she gave up on her plan, sat down next to you, grabbed your hand.

“I know darling, I’m laughing at the way you said it. They have you on quite some drugs huh?”

“Nah, I’m sound as a pound, feeling mint!”

She bit her lip in thought “Listen darling, these days were really scary. And I didn’t know… I didn't think I could feel like this because of someone. But after all that’s happened between us, maybe, I mean-” You gave her hand an encouraging squeeze as she exhaled deeply.

“You said that when you saved me from the fire you got us even, that I didn’t have to be around you anymore, and… Darling I don’t hate you. I never have, I don’t think I can. It’s just that- The waiting, not knowing if you’d make it, I realised my life just can’t go back to what it was before you came along.”

She broke eye contact and half laughed “And everything is ashes now, and everyone is waiting for me to put it all back into place, but how would I do that? What kind of miserable empire would I create if you took all the colour with you?”

“So what I mean darling, is that from now on I want you by my side. Always. And if what you want is distance, then we have to erase all of what happened, and you’ll have to promise me to never refer to me again. If I let you go I can’t have these memories haunting me.”

“I guess you’re never getting rid of me then” you answered, chuckling through your own drowsy tears. “I don’t think I can fight fate. If I couldn’t run from you before I don’t see the point in doing it now.”

She laughed in relief, looking down at your laced hands, placed in a way so hers wouldn’t shake so much. “I hope you’re not just saying that because you’re high. I can’t have you making a promise like that now and then giving up”

“I mean, I’m not that affected! I’m just sleepy, for real! Like… I’m being serious too. It’s really confusing but this feels different. You might not want to believe me because of my whole… people thing, but it feels impossible to run from you.”

“And I mean, it’s not just that I can’t run, that’s not it.” you went on “I don’t think I want to do that, I like you around. The times we didn’t spend fighting were actually some of the loveliest I can think of in recent times. And, I mean, I’m willing to forget about those bad things that happened if there’s better stuff to come. That morning in the shop was… it sucked, it fucking sucked dude, I don’t want that to happen again. I like having an argument with you, like, a normal conversation, exposing points of view, but I don’t think I have the energy for fighting anymore. I need to chill the fuck out a bit.”

“I agree darling. It’s hard for me to not get caught up in- well, trouble, but you live in such a beautiful way. I mean that you just seem to appreciate things so much. And I want to learn that from you.”

“And about that morning, I am so, so sorry for that darling, I wasn’t thinking straight, and you were right, I was afraid of being upstaged because it has taken everything in me to get to where I am. But I shouldn’t have done things like that.” she gave you a side smile before adding “And also, I had no idea how to bring this up. I was afraid of making things worse, but I also have to apologise because of your interview. I have to say though, it was going to be dangerous for you if you had gone and signed a contract with them. I searched up all I could to see who they were, and I’ll admit it, at first I just wanted you to work for me and nothing else, but I did find out that they had a history of using people, so then it seemed logical to do that. I probably should have just told you what I knew but I had already overstepped. I’m so, so sorry darling, but you are just too talented to accept anything but the best agencies working for you. And I promise you I’ll make sure that’s what you get.”

“You? I… you could have said that before.. I’m not saying you should have done it but I see how you thought that.” There was a bit of silence in which you studied her with tired eyes.

“I don’t know where your name comes from but cruel is just so far from who you are. I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s just a persona, you try to be so strong and put up this big bad image in the press, and I don’t think that’s who you are. It works, and for your sake I’m glad it does but does it work for you? You can take a break from being the best designer in the country sometimes.”

“Darling that’s… that’s a bit more complicated than it seems”

“Doesn’t seem complicated at all to me! And you should chill a bit. You deserve to, I know you’re tired. And for what that’s worth, you don’t have to be that around me. I love it, I do, you are so inspiring, and I wish I had half the strength you do, but you can be you. The real you. I know there’s someone in there who is sweeter than you want us to see”

She stared at you in slight surprise for a bit. “You read people a little too well.”

“What can I say, a mother has to know her kids before giving them what they need” you answered with a cheeky smile. “But though I get a feeling about people I’m still not a witch yet, I would love to know who you really are. So, tell me your story, Cruella De Vil.”

|| Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 8 || Wattpad link ||

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