#and even if his bubbly personality dies down a little its okay. everyone would still love him

[gayboybeetle]

every once in a while when I'm sad or scared i look at a butterball doodle i did two years ago where he survived and aged to his 30s and,,, man that can get me through anything.

[steddieas-shegoes]

The top of your blog says you're still taking requests,no pressure though of course: Eddie lives through the events of s4 and heals in the hospital, his name is cleared, Eddie spends his time with his uncle and his friends, plays games. He notices that Steve sort of remains on the back burner, shows up to little gatherings but keeps himself at a distance, busies himself with small tasks. Keeps the focus on Eddie, and is content to sort of stare at everyone, and not join in. Eddie gets worried and asks Robin whats up with Steve, why does he keep just standing in the corner or the kitchen smiling instead of joining in, I think he's bumming the kids out, Robin. And she has to calmly, and frightfully, remind him that Steve died over spring break. What are you talking about he's right there! I'd love a Ghost Steve who doesn't want to move on, wants to stay with his family. Doesn't want to be alone. Eddie is the only one who can see him at first(?)

OKAY SO THIS WAS SAD AS SHIT AND I LOVE THIS PREMISE. I especially love it because I have read A LOT of ghost Eddie fics, some where he was actually dead and some where it was a weird Upside Down thing and he was alive. I'm a big believer in happy endings so I went full speed ahead with the latter option for Steve. But since you requested ghost Steve not wanting to move on, I had to switch it up a bit to where Eddie couldn't just let it go. Still plenty of sad, but I had to make it hopeful and happy at the end because I am me. - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------

While Eddie was in the hospital, it felt like he was in a bubble. His uncle was the only one allowed to visit for the first week, and then the kids were able to come by when his name was cleared.

They weren’t themselves, a cloud of sadness around them, but that was to be expected with everything that had happened.

Dustin, especially, clung to him more than he expected.

He figured it would be rough, he did almost die, after all, but this was on another level.

Dustin was with him every day for hours, sometimes had to be dragged out by his mom who understood, but only in the way a person who doesn’t know about the Upside Down could.

Robin came by sometimes, a haunted look on her face, none of her usual energy anywhere to be seen.

He managed to get her to crack a small smile twice.

When he left the hospital, things somehow felt worse.

The government had provided him and Wayne a new trailer, nowhere near the trailer park, even managed to get Wayne a new truck since Eddie’s van had been destroyed and Wayne’s truck was on its last leg for the last year.

His name was cleared, but that didn’t mean people changed their mind about him.

He mostly stayed at home, didn’t even attempt to go to the store with Wayne or anywhere but Dustin’s house or the Byers’.

The kids started begging for normalcy in whatever ways they could: meeting up for movie night, bringing Hellfire back, dinner at the Byers’ house.

Eddie was on board with it, wanted to put everything in the past just as much as they did.

He went to movie night, at Robin’s house while her parents were out of town instead of at Steve’s.

Steve, who hadn’t visited him once while he was in the hospital, hadn’t made it to any hangouts with the kids, apparently was coping with everything by ignoring everyone.

Eddie would have to do something about it soon because the kids were clearly missing him.

Movie night was okay, but he decided to have the next one at his house.

He told Dustin to let everyone know, didn’t think he had to be specific about everyone.

Steve didn’t show up on time, which was unusual since he was usually Dustin and Lucas’ ride. They rode with Nancy and Mike.

Everyone settled in, Eddie started the movie and passed out popcorn, waved goodbye to Wayne on his way out the door to his night shift.

Everything felt okay, but without Steve, it didn’t feel right.

Eddie could admit to himself he had a crush on him. He had one on him in high school, but that was easy to ignore when he was an asshole.

Now, he knew Steve was a good guy, protected these kids and Robin and Nancy with his life and didn’t hesitate even when he should.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore, he realized that while he was in the hospital. It was full blown feelings. Love.

Eddie sat in Wayne’s recliner in the corner, keeping an eye on everyone through the movie. He glanced over to the kitchen and saw movement, but didn’t think anything of it.

They paused the movie halfway through for bathroom breaks and refills on snacks and drinks, and Eddie followed all the kids into the kitchen to get his own beer.

He was startled when he turned the corner and saw Steve smiling at him from the corner.

He didn’t want to say anything, figured the kids had already said hello and he was just letting them get their stuff first.

But it was kind of weird that he’d come in the backdoor of a trailer he’d never visited when he easily could have come in the front door. Eddie watched as Steve leaned against the wall of the kitchen, watching everyone move around without saying anything.

It was weird, especially because the smile seemed to transform from a genuine one to a sad one quickly.

He didn’t want to draw attention to it, didn’t know how much Steve let the kids see usually, so he turned to grab his own snack from the counter.

Robin was standing there, staring at him, eyebrows pinched together.

“What were you looking at?”

“Uh,” Eddie glanced back over and saw Steve frowning now. “Steve? Looking like a kicked puppy in the corner?”

Robin’s face went from confused to worried in a millisecond.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Steve.” Eddie gestured towards where Steve was still standing, but now he looked panicked, like he wanted to interrupt. “Please feel free to make me not look insane, Steve.”

Robin glanced over to the corner, then back at Eddie, tears in her eyes.

“Eddie,” she said, voice sad, like she was about to break the worst news in the world to him. Then, she did. “Steve died. Remember? We had to leave him.”

That can’t be right. He could’ve sworn Steve was there when he was being pushed through the gate, when he gained just enough consciousness to look around and take inventory of the people around him. Steve was there.

“When did he die? He was at the…with the bats…he was at the trailer…right?”

Eddie looked back in the corner and saw Steve looking down at the floor.

And then Robin was pulling him into a hug.

“Nobody told you. They were supposed to tell you. And we-” she let out a sob. “We just haven’t talked about it. It’s hard to. Last time we tried, Dustin had to be given anxiety meds. I’m sorry, Eddie. He’s gone.”

She was crying through the explanation, almost too much for him to understand what she was saying.

But he watched as Steve wiped at his eyes in the corner.

Like he was crying. Like he was there.

He knew Robin wasn’t lying, she would never lie about something like this, and it would explain a lot of the behavior of everyone and Steve’s absence up until this point.

“Robbie, I-” Eddie didn’t know if it would help or hurt her to know he could see Steve right now. He made a decision based on the way Steve was watching them now, his eyes wide and sad, like he would be crying if he could. “I can see him right now.”

Robin pulled away, looked at him, then over at the corner.

“Right now? He’s there right now?”

Eddie nodded.

“Can you hear him say anything?”

“No, he hasn’t said anything. I don’t think he can.”

Steve was still just staring at them, and Eddie knew he was stuck.

If he was truly dead, he wasn’t moving on the way people do. If he wasn’t dead, then something super weird was happening and he would have to get help from everyone.

But he didn’t want to involve the kids, not for this. Because if Steve was dead, like they thought, and they went through the trouble of trying to find him, they’d be hurting all over again.

But if he wasn’t.

“Robin, were you sure he was dead? No pulse or breathing, no movement?”

Robin’s eyes widened.

“I mean, I guess as sure as we could be with how rushed and emotional we were? Nancy couldn’t find a heartbeat and he wasn’t moving, and we waited as long as we could, but he didn’t wake up. Do you think he isn’t dead?”

Steve was watching them, his fingers tapping against his arms that were crossed over his chest.

“How long can someone survive down there?”

“Eddie, look. I already talked to Hopper about it. He said even if somehow Steve managed to survive his injuries, they were bad enough that he would have probably been found by something and attacked. And even if he survived that, he’s been down there without food and water and clean oxygen for a month. The fact that Will survived a week was a miracle.”

He didn’t push. He could hear it in Robin’s voice that she’d already thought of every possible outcome, probably even tried to plan a rescue mission at some point.

She couldn’t take the disappointment either.

Eddie dropped it for now, but he watched as Steve watched him.

He just had a feeling that this was more complicated than Steve being dead.

—-----------------------

He let himself mourn that night.

While he didn’t feel like Steve was dead, he knew that no matter what, Steve had been missing from all their lives for a month.

He cried for hours, he cried for Steve, for Dustin, for Robin, for Max, for everyone who Steve loved so much that he died for them.

Himself included.

Because that’s what it came down to: Steve died protecting them.

They all took a risk, but Steve paid the price.

It wasn’t fair. The guy who put everyone first was the first one gone.

Eddie finally fell asleep, but it was restless. He kept getting flashes of Steve in his dreams, his face bloody, his body bloody, his screams loud.

Which was weird for a lot of reasons, one of them being that he didn’t know what injuries Steve even had when he died. The ghost he saw in his kitchen earlier had just been Steve, not bloodied or broken or scared.

When he managed to get up, he went through the motions of his day: brush his teeth, shower, eat breakfast, do his stretches, play guitar, eat lunch, clean up, talk to Wayne.

But by dinner, he felt like he had to do something. He had to figure out why he felt this buzzing energy around him.

He waited until Wayne left to get their dinner at the diner and bring it home, then he called Robin.

“Robin, is there a gate open somewhere?”

“Seriously, Eddie.”

“I just need to know! Maybe you’re right, in fact, you probably are. But what if you aren’t? What if he’s stuck down there? What if he’s too hurt to find a way back here?”

Robin was silent, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him.

“I know you guys were pretty sure. And I know you wouldn’t have left if you didn’t believe he was dead. But you said yourself you were emotional and overwhelmed and feeling rushed because of everything happening. It’s not that far of a stretch to believe that he could be alive.”

“Eddie.”

Her voice was broken.

She didn’t want to believe him.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.”

“I know it’s hard. It’ll get easier, I hope. His parents just sold the house, and his car, so. He’s gone. We have to accept that.”

“Okay.”

But it wasn’t okay.

He hung up with Robin, promised he would try to get some sleep, take care of himself. It was a lie.

He ate dinner with Wayne, pretended he was doing alright, pretended he didn’t still hear the echoes of Steve’s screams in his head.

Wayne left early for work, claimed he was picking up some overtime due to them being short staffed still after the quake. He said he wouldn’t be home until nine the next morning.

Eddie nodded and pretended to head to his room for the night.

He did a lot of pretending until he was alone.

Then, he got on the phone with El.

El had gotten attached to him while Max was in a coma, stopping by to talk to him after she’d spent an hour or so with Max. She saw him as a cool older brother, especially when she realized Hopper wasn’t his biggest fan.

“I need to know if there’s a gate open.”

“Eddie, I do not know if I can help with that,” El responded slowly, carefully.

“What if I say it’s for a really good reason?”

“I am sure it is, but I promised Dad I would not open one.”

“But what if there’s one already open?”

“There is not. I would feel it.”

Eddie sighed. He didn’t want to make El break a promise, but this was worth it.

He knew Hopper would forgive her and him if he was right.

“Has Will mentioned feeling anything weird?”

Sometimes Will felt things that even El couldn’t, usually things happening only in the Upside Down. Everyone’s running theory was that it was because of the time he spent down there.

“No, he just feels the usual.”

“What’s the usual?”

“It is just there. Sometimes it is more there than other times.”

“And right now? It isn’t more than other times?”

“I think it is just always more than other times since Vecna.”

Hm. That could be something.

“Why does it feel like more sometimes?”

“It is hard to say. Sometimes it is nothing, sometimes it is because something is moving and trying to get out.”

“Is it always a creature?”

“It always was before.”

“El, I think Steve’s alive.”

There, he said it. He said it to someone who could probably actually help him, who would would help him if she believed him.

“Why do you think that? They said he was not breathing.”

“I know, but, look. Robin even said that they were being rushed and were crying and could have missed something.”

“But it has been a month.”

“I saw him. In the kitchen.” He hated saying this to one of the kids. They all loved Steve so much and if he was wrong, he really didn’t want this to hurt her. “At movie night. He was there, but only I could see him. Robin said maybe it was a ghost, but it seemed too real.”

“It was Steve?”

“Even if he’s de-,” Eddie stopped. “Gone. If his body is where it was left, it should be put to rest here. And if it isn’t, and he’s alive, then we can save him.”

“But we will get caught.”

“Not if we do it tonight. Hopper works nights this week, right?”

“Yes.”

“So he won’t be home to know you’re gone. Will is over at Dustin’s. Jonathan is so high, he won’t notice you’re gone. Joyce will be asleep by ten. You can sneak out.”

“What if you get hurt? I cannot go down there.”

That was a valid concern.

They defeated Vecna, and the Mindflayer hadn’t been a problem since, but that didn’t mean the other creatures weren’t still prowling around down there.

Out of all of them, he had the least experience with them, and she had every right to be worried.

“I can handle it. I’ll bring Steve’s bat.”

—------------------------

He met El in the woods behind the cabin they were staying in. Hopper had redone it, adding two bedrooms and a bathroom so they could all fit more comfortably.

They silently hugged and kept walking further, away from any chance of being seen or heard.

El warned him that opening the gate was risky in other ways too. She had a lot of control over her powers, but sometimes using this much strength would leave her too tired to close it again, and they couldn’t leave a gate open for longer than it took for Eddie to get in, check for Steve, and get out.

They also ran the risk of her using a little too much power and making a gate that was too big for her to close at all.

But these were risks Eddie deemed worth it, and with some convincing, El did too.

They found a small clearing, big enough to make a gate that Eddie could fit through.

He didn’t let himself stop to think about the last time he was being pushed through a gate, how he was bleeding out and barely breathing. He only thought about how Steve was down there, dead or alive, and didn’t deserve to be.

“Are you ready?” El asked him, her hands digging into the earth below her.

“Ready.”

“Two hours. If you are not back in two hours, I call Hopper.”

That was the deal. That was the only way she agreed to do this.

He knew if it came down to him being gone for more than two hours, he’d probably be grateful to see Hopper.

“Got it.”

El nodded and closed her eyes.

The ground started shaking, Eddie held back the panic, and suddenly El was staring up at him, blood dripping from her nose, smiling.

The ground had opened between them, just big enough for Eddie to slip through, small enough for El to cover with sticks and leaves if someone came looking before their time was up.

“You will come back in two hours.”

“Sure thing, supergirl. With Steve, hopefully.”

“With Steve,” she added with a small smile.

Eddie didn’t think anymore.

He dropped himself down, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach when everything turned upside down on him.

He didn’t let himself hesitate, even though he wanted to.

He had a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time, and if Steve was alive, he could be anywhere.

But he walked towards where Robin and Nancy had left him. It would at least confirm if he was dead, his body hopefully would still be there if so.

It was only two miles, but Eddie was never a very fast runner. The first mile went surprisingly well, much faster than he expected to be able to do it. But during mile two, he felt his legs shaking.

He was still technically healing, the physical therapy stretches he did every morning further proof that he still had a long way to go before he was completely recovered.

But he pushed through it, knowing that the way back would be worse and he couldn’t waste time now.

But when he got to the area between the Creel house and the trailer park, he saw no sign of Steve, or anything for that matter.

There weren’t even vines or dead creatures around.

He tried to remain calm.

Steve had been alive when they left him here.

He may not be now, but he had been.

That felt worse.

He pushed that aside and decided to run to the trailer park.

Steve wouldn’t have gone in the direction of the Creel house, and he wouldn’t have wandered aimlessly no matter how much blood he’d lost.

He would have gone to the place he knew they would be in hopes the gate was still open.

The trailer park had always been kind of eerie, even in broad daylight, so the Upside Down version was downright horrific.

Eddie ran directly to his old trailer, hoped that somehow Steve found shelter here.

It looked worse than what he remembered, blood on the floor from when they were half dragging, half carrying him after being a meal for the bats.

The door had been kicked in at some point, and he wasn’t sure how or when that could have happened after they left.

He almost didn’t want to know unless-

He could hear movement in the back bedroom. His bedroom.

It could be anything. Wind blowing through a broken window, a creature he wasn’t entirely prepared to kill, Steve.

God, he hoped it was Steve.

He slowly walked towards the bedroom, his hands shaking where they were holding on tight to the bat.

The door was open a few inches, and he could hear the movement more clearly.

It sounded like someone was in bed, shifting in the sheets.

Holy shit.

He pushed the door open.

Holy shit.

“Steve!”

Eddie dropped the bat and ran to the bed, only stopping himself from jumping onto it when he saw the blood.

There was a lot, though most of it looked old, like maybe Steve had crawled here and then couldn’t quite find his way back out.

Steve was pale. It was dark, and hard to make out a lot of details, but he could see that he was deathly pale.

“Steve?”

“Eddie?”

“Holy shit, Jesus Christ, Steve. Where are you bleeding from?”

“Um, I think my leg? And my stomach.”

His voice was raspy, sort of nasally like he was coming down with a cold. Could you catch a cold from being down here? Probably.

Eddie’s hands hovered over the sheets, ready to move them so he could try to help, when Steve suddenly turned on his side and threw up.

“Shit. Hold on, let me help you sit up.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

Steve was crying, and Eddie didn’t know what to do.

He took a deep breath.

“You don’t have to apologize, Stevie. I’m sorry you’ve been stuck here. Can I check your heartbeat?”

Eddie needed to see if it was ridiculously fast or slow, needed to determine how quickly he had to move them out of here, if he could take a few extra minutes to try to patch him up or if he just had to put him on his back and run.

Steve held his wrist towards him and Eddie quickly found his pulse.

He counted like a kind nurse showed him while he was in the hospital, filed away for future emergencies so he could be useful.

“It’s a little fast, but I think that’s normal for the situation. Let’s get you up and we can go.”

“Go how?”

“You can hop on my back.”

“I-”

“Steve, it’s not up for debate. You’re coming back with me and I don’t care if it means I break my back.”

Steve nodded once, his eyes closing as if he was just too exhausted to fight.

Eddie was sure he was.

Even if he managed to sleep here, it couldn’t have been well. It’s hard to rest when you know scary monsters are just outside the door.

“Tired,” Steve said, almost like he could read Eddie’s mind.

Hell, maybe he could after spending so much time down here.

Something to test later.

He checked his clock. Still had almost an hour and a half to get back to the gate.

“Have you had anything to eat or drink lately?”

“Found some water four days ago I think? Maybe five. Managed to stretch it until yesterday. Food’s been gone for days.”

How was he not passed out?

“How much of this blood is yours?”

“All of it.”

Awesome.

Eddie felt his forehead. He had a fever.

Even more awesome.

He probably had infections, which can be treated if you get them taken care of quickly, but he could have had them for weeks by now.

Cool.

“Alright, on three, wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. I’m gonna lift, and I just need you to try to keep leaning forward while I get you on my back.”

“Mkay.”

“And you cannot close your eyes. You hear me, Steve?”

Steve didn’t answer.

“Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me.”

“Mhm. Eyes stay open.”

“And mouth keeps moving. Alright,” Eddie helped him out a bit by placing his arms around his neck. “One…two…three.”

He lifted, and huffed out a sharp breath when his ribs started aching almost immediately.

“Okay?” Steve whispered against his neck.

“I’m okay. You?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Eddie let himself take one calming breath, just enough to get himself back on track. “Talk to me.”

“Hurts.”

“I know, love, but I need to know you haven’t passed out,” Eddie said sympathetically.

“Wanna hold your hand.”

God, okay. He could handle that.

He could.

“Okay, one hand for a minute. I need them both to hold you up though.”

He moved one hand up to his chest, where Steve’s hands were sort of dangling. He let his thumb run along the side of Steve’s hands, then Steve grabbed it and squeezed, surprising strength behind it.

“Is Dustin okay?”

Jesus Christ, this guy was half dead and still asking if others were okay.

“Yeah, he’s doing okay. Misses you, though.”

“Miss him.”

“Max is gonna be mad you came back from the dead in a more impressive way than her.”

“She can win.”

Eddie let out a laugh and tugged his hand back to adjust Steve on his back.

They had barely made it out of the trailer park and Eddie’s legs were shaking. He could do it though, he had no choice.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“A month.”

“Robin?”

“She’s hurting. She thought I was crazy. Didn’t wanna come because she didn’t wanna see you like she left you.”

“Not dead though.”

“Nope, not unless dead people can talk down here.”

Steve’s breath was hot against his neck, tickling him and sending chills down his back.

“You?”

“What about me?”

“Hurt?”

Steve’s voice was getting more strained, like he was doing his best to still talk but it was causing a lot of pain for him to do so.

“I was really hurt, yeah.”

“Still?”

“Not as much. Just a little.”

“Love me?”

Eddie knew he was losing it. The pain, the dehydration and hunger, the deliriousness. Steve didn’t have a clue what he was saying.

“What?”

“You love me?”

“Um.”

Steve squeezed his legs around Eddie’s hips.

“Came back. Love me.”

When it was put like that, yeah, Eddie guessed it seemed kind of obvious.

“Just a little.”

He could sense the eyeroll Steve wanted to give, but didn’t quite have the energy.

“I saw you. In my kitchen. Were you there?”

“Dunno.”

“Did you dream about it?”

“Just you. Kids. Robin. Missed you.”

“We all missed you.”

Eddie was making more progress, his determination to get Steve medical attention far outweighing any weakness or pain he was feeling.

“Ow.”

“What hurts, sweetheart?”

“Stomach.”

“Bites?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie could feel where the blood was soaking through his shirt, but he knew it wasn’t so much that he couldn’t at least make it through the gate before bandaging it up. He’d made it this long with them out, another 30 minutes wouldn’t kill him.

Hopefully.

Steve was quiet again, but he was breathing against Eddie’s neck steadily, so he didn’t push.

“Man, you won’t believe the place they gave me and Wayne. It’s got two bedrooms. And we have a whole kitchen instead of just a small counter area with a stove and fridge. Maybe you can cook us dinner when you’re better, you know, as a thanks for rescuing you.”

“Not a good cook.”

“I don’t believe that. Robin said you made her chicken parmesan from scratch for her birthday.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, so chicken parmesan, my kitchen, soon.”

“Soon.”

They were close, creeping into the edge of the woods, and Eddie was trying not to panic at Steve’s silence.

“Stevie, just a few more minutes. Tell me about the first thing you wanna do when you’re back.”

“Mmm.” Steve’s head rolled back and forth like he was trying to focus. “Kiss you.”

“That can be arranged. What else?”

“Hug Dustin. Love him.”

“Yeah, he could use that.”

“Hug Robin. Love her.”

“She could use that, too.”

“Hug you, love you.”

He wouldn’t hold Steve to this, he wouldn’t. But it would hurt so much when Steve forgot about this whole conversation.

He bit his lip and nodded.

“Yeah, I could use that.”

Steve’s lips were pressed against his neck, most likely accidental, but Eddie let himself pretend for a moment it was a kiss.

When he reached the gate, he whistled to get El’s attention.

“Oh! Eddie, is that…”

“He’s alive. Really hurt and needs water and food. I need to get him through.”

El was prepared with everything and it only took a couple of minutes for them to get through the gate, Steve whimpering slightly as they moved him around.

“You were right.”

El seemed surprised, like she had only done this to give Eddie closure. She hadn’t expected Steve to be alive.

“He loves me,” Steve said.

El looked at Eddie, then at Steve, then back to Eddie.

“You love him?”

“I do. And I’ll love him a lot more if he stays alive. We have to get him to the hospital.”

“I can call Hopper?”

“Tell him to meet us at the cabin with an ambulance.”

“Jus’ need sleep.”

Eddie looked at Steve, mouth open in disbelief.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“Sleep.”

“I’m not arguing with you. You can barely form a sentence. You’re going to the hospital.”

“You come?”

“I won’t leave your side.”

Eddie put him on his back again so he could walk towards the cabin, hopeful that Hopper wouldn’t ask a lot of questions until they got Steve taken care of.

“He is on his way!” El yelled from the porch, Joyce coming up behind her, hair a mess from being asleep.

When she saw Steve, her eyes widened and she nearly tripped running down the stairs.

“Oh God, Steve! Honey, are you okay? Of course not, you can’t even walk. You’re bleeding!”

“Mrs. Byers, can you get him some water maybe please?”

“Yes! Oh my God!”

She was running back up the stairs, mumbling to herself the whole way.

El giggled as she watched.

Eddie loved her.

He could hear sirens in the distance, and he hoped he would be able to ride with Steve.

He shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

Steve’s eyes were closed, but Eddie kept his fingers on his pulse, making sure he didn’t have any changes while the sirens got closer.

Hopper’s patrol car arrived first, barely in park before Hopper was jumping out and running to where Eddie was cradling Steve.

Joyce came out with the water and handed it to Eddie.

“Dammit, why would you go down there alone? You know the rules.”

Eddie ignored him, just focused on getting some water past Steve’s lips.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just a few sips.”

Steve’s lips moved, then he swallowed some of the water.

“There ya go. Good job.”

Hopper was watching in silence now, Joyce with her arm around him.

Eddie knew they were wondering how the hell they would ever get over leaving Steve behind.

The ambulance pulled up next, EMTs rushing out and asking Eddie question after question.

He had to keep it simple: found him in the woods, must’ve been out there since the quake with the injuries and level of dehydration. They took him at his word.

When they loaded Steve up, they let Eddie in only because Hopper insisted.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

And he was.

Eddie kept his eyes on Steve the whole time, but he could see the lights of Hopper’s police car in the window next to him.

Steve’s eyes fluttered open a few times as they hooked him up to oxygen and an IV, kept checking his vitals.

Eddie smiled at him each time, made sure he knew he was there and he loved him.

—---------------------------

It was two days before Steve woke up again.

The wounds weren’t bad, but they were infected, which was why they kept randomly bleeding despite not being very deep.

The infection was actually the worst of it, but it had potential to be life threatening if they couldn’t get it under control.

They pumped him full of pain relievers and antibiotics, fluids and nutrients.

Eddie sat by his bed the whole time.

None of the kids were allowed in yet, doctor’s and Hopper’s orders, but he heard Dustin in the hall multiple times a day giving it his best shot.

Robin hadn’t come by yet. Eddie knew she felt guilty, immensely so. She left her best friend down there, suffering, and didn’t even think to double check when it was safe to do so.

Eddie didn’t blame her, and he knew Steve wouldn’t either, but Robin would.

But when Steve’s eyes finally opened, bloodshot and glassy from his IV concoction, he smiled at Eddie.

“Love me?”

“Just a little.”

He fell back asleep a few minutes later, holding Eddie’s hand like a lifeline.

—------------------------

It took another four days before the doctors said he could be around others. His infection symptoms had gotten better and they believed the worst was over.

Eddie called Robin and told her to bring Dustin, no arguing. Steve was asking for them.

It wasn’t a lie, but he may have exaggerated it slightly just to get them here.

And when they did show up, everyone cried.

Robin collapsed next to the bed while Dustin folded himself against Steve the moment he was given permission to.

Eddie just watched from his chair, took in the way Steve comforted them despite the fact he was still in the hospital after spending a month alone in the Upside Down.

That was just who Steve was.

It probably wasn’t healthy, but it’s why Eddie loved him. Just a little.

[acdeaky]

(felt your arms) holding me

warning: mentions/descriptions of nightmares, mentions of blood and death, implications of PTSD, fluff

note: this was meant to be my other submission for @celestialbarnes’ 4k writing challenge, but my brain decided to finish this one first and ignore my original idea (but that will still come your way!) i chose the prompt ‘bed’ and dialogue 9 ‘“was it the nightmares again?” “no” “you suck at lying”’ congrats again, rachel! and enjoy 🤍

read my other submission here!

word count: 2.0k

all that rung through the scarce lobby of your hotel was yours and bucky’s laughs. his arm thrown over your shoulders as yours was wrapped around his waist, your left hand reaching over your body to rest on his chest.

your façade of a happily married couple fooled everyone you’d met since the mission began; the hotel clerks and customers, the targets, even people on the street. they all seemed to take one look at you and believe the act the two of you had been putting on for two days.

the only time it faltered was as soon as you walked through the hotel room door, bucky’s arm leaving your body as if he was scared of invading your personal space. even after spending all day and night by each other’s sides he was still scared of overstepping that invisible boundary he’d put there himself.

everything worked like clockwork after the soft sounds of the lock clicking into place sounded through the room: bucky would remove his blazer, grabbing himself a drink while you slid into the bathroom, nightwear in hand. he’d allow you the bathroom first, for as long as you wanted, occupying his time by either drinking the aged whiskey in the room’s mini bar or cleaning inbetween the ridges of his vibranium arm.

you’d walk out some time later, the remains of the steam from your shower following after you. bucky would give you a smile before standing and grabbing his nightwear, repeating your earlier actions. he’d come out only a little while later, finding you curled in the chair by the desk, your eyes scanning and reading over the report for the day.

“it’s late, doll, don’t spend too long on that.” he chastised, stepping over to your side to place a delicate kiss on your temple. like usual, whenever bucky was even close to you, your heart fluttered, your hand so desperately wanting to reach out and grab his own.

but you refrained, knowing that saying something now would change things: you didn’t want that just yet. staying in this little bubble was enough.

before you even had the chance to look up and reply to him, bucky was already laid along the sofa, a blanket thrown across his lower half. he, himself, had papers in his hands, reading over earlier reports from days before.

“don’t be too late.” you teased a few moments later after dropping your pen and making your way over to the bed. bucky glanced over at you, smiling lightly as he watched you climb under the sheets, wanting to be there next to you. “night buck.”

“g’night, doll.” came his response as the lights switched off. the papers in his hands fell onto the floor just before he closed his eyes, mind wandering back to the first day of the mission.

-

as much as you’d love to pretend it didn’t, the view of only one bed in the middle of the room made your heart drop. of course; it made sense that you and bucky, a happily married couple, would need a room with only one bed. but you didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to make bucky even more uncomfortable than you thought he already was.

you didn’t think anything could make this situation better, but you knew there was no possibility of bucky sleeping next to you each night you’d be there; he rarely slept in his own bed.

bucky followed into the room after you, not even registering the situation as he dropped your bags onto the ottoman against the end of the bed. he looked towards you and saw the slight worry etched into your features, immediately worried at whatever was wrong.

“hey, what’s up?” he asked, gentle as ever, a hand wanting to reach out towards you, but unsure as to how to interact.

“there- there’s only one bed,” you spoke, watching as bucky’s eyes widened slightly and turned away from you. “i mean- it’s not a problem, i just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, and i’m sure we can work something out-”

“i’ll sleep on the couch, it’s fine, doll.” he smiled, toothless and unsure, but determined to settle your mind.

“bucky, no, i can’t make you do that.”

“you’re not, it’s okay, really.” his little smile came again, hoping to reassure you - it didn’t.

the both of you knew it was no use; bucky was as stubborn as anything and wouldn’t allow you to give up any of your comfort for his own. and so, bucky found himself sleeping on the sofa for the first two nights. for him, it was better than the floor (like he was used to), and better than the all too soft mattress which laid underneath you.

bucky wanted more, you wanted more.

you wanted to reach out and touch his soul, wrap your healing hands around his heart and never let go until he was healed. you wanted that physical touch, whispering quiet affirmations into his ear as you held him tight against your chest, the beating of your heart killing him to sleep as you allowed his steady breathing to help you.

and bucky, bucky wanted to reach out to you, let his incoherent rambling fall onto your listening ears as you returned nods and calming smiles. he wanted you to listen, to understand, to give him everything he’s ever wanted from you. although it wasn’t much, there was something from you he craved and he was willing to go to the ends of the earth.

-

it can’t have been late when you heard the familiar sounds of the sofa groaning under the shift of bucky’s weight, the blanket hitting the floor and finally footsteps from one side of the room to the window.

he had to have been awake for a little while, tossing and turning on the cushions before deciding to actually get up. he rarely does that, usually managing to settle himself. but tonight was different, clearly, and something bad truly shaken him.

“was it the nightmares again?” you whispered into the darkened room, the only light coming from the moon shining through the thin transparent curtains.

“no.” came his reply many moments later as bucky ended his debate on whether to tell you the truth or not.

“you suck at lying.” was all you replied, pulling the white sheets from your body as you shifted to the edge of the bed.

even with the minimal light, you managed to make your way over to bucky. he was sat on one of the chairs facing the large opening doors to the balcony, watching the city continue flourishing through the gap of material, even in the early hours of the morning.

with little thought, your hands rested on his tense shoulders, barely registering the lack of the t-shirt he wore to sleep earlier. there was a shaky breath that escaped him, but other than that bucky stayed silent. his eyes remained focused on the view, mind attempting to concentrate on something that wasn’t your soft, yet skilled, hands erasing the knots from his shoulders.

“are you going to tell me the truth soon?” you asked after a few minutes, almost scared that bucky had fallen asleep sat up and all that holding him was your delicate hands.

there still came no reply, but you could feel his shoulders shaking with the silent, heavy breath he exhaled. so you left the conversation, opting to walking around to the front of the chair to lend your hand instead.

he placed his left hand in your own, allowing you to pull him up from his seat and lead him over to the bed. as much as his mind was telling him no, he couldn’t refuse your offer of laying with you, sheets wrapped around your bodies as you attempted to fall asleep again.

as you climbed into your side, bucky was hesistent, taking a convincing pat on the sheets from you for him to finally make up his mind. even as he laid down on his back, he was stiff, almost motionless under the sheets as he tried not to unconsciously shuffle closer to you.

but you weren’t like that; you lazily rolled onto your side, facing bucky as you shuffled closer to his body, his warmth.

a shy hand reached out to touch his left bicep, grabbing bucky’s attention as he felt a touch as soft as clouds on his vibranium arm. something he’d never felt, never experienced, and it almost startled you how quickly his head snapped to the side to look at you.

“is this okay?” your voice was quiet and you motioned towards where your hand was placed, watching in bucky’s eyes for any sign on discomfort or worry; there wasn’t any. though, all he could reply was a curt nod. his body remained motionless. his head fixed in its place watching you.

once he let you know he was okay, you became more confident. it only took a second for you to shuffle even closer to bucky, your body practically flush with his side as your free hand grabbed his left one, lacing your fingers together.

“is this still okay?” and once again, he could only nod, his eyes still fixed on yours as he watched them twinkle in the moonlight.

“what happens? in your nightmares; what happens?” the hand over his bicep moved to his chest, running over his smooth skin in an attempt to calm him down.

“too much.” was all he replied.

“what happened tonight?”

“you,” it was short, but you could imagine what was coming next. “you died, and i couldn’t save you. you were laid in my arms, in the pretty dress you wore last night, blood staining everything. you were dying in my arms, doll, and all i could do was sit and watch.”

even with the falter in his voice, neither of you broke eye contact, keeping your eyes fixed on his for as long as he would let you before you would, eventually, have to look away. but he didn’t pull back, and so you didn’t. he spoke openly, honestly, letting you in to another piece of his mind which he only showed a few people.

“don’t think about that anymore,” you whispered, “think about how i’m here, alive, in your arms, living and breathing with that dress unstained in the wardrobe.”

the hand that once rested on his chest shifted upwards, moving to cover bucky’s cheek and wipe away the stray tear that had fallen. your gaze dropped from his eyes for a second, down to his lips and back. if he noticed, he didn’t say anything, just inhaling a shaky breath.

you let your right hand leave bucky’s left, unlacing your fingers before using your other hand to guide his arm around your shoulders. the chill of the vibranium sent little shocks down your skin, but it was a nice contrast to the warmth of his chest.

the front of your body pressed closer into his side, shifting your body to allow your cheek to rest against his pec, his heart beating away right under your ear.

a deep sigh left bucky, his chest rising and falling quickly as he allowed himself a moment to realise what was happening. you were there, skin to skin against him, happily laid with his arm wrapped around your body.

“i care about you, buck, more than you like to think,” your whispered confession came. “i have done for a while, and how i feel about you isn’t how i feel about everyone else.”

it took a moment for bucky to reply. he allowed your words to sink in, to resonate with him for a moment before even thinking of what to say. you’d told him how you feel, how you’ve felt for a long time, in a way he understood, a way he could comprehend.

“i care about you, too.”

-

taglist (for people who i think might enjoy this): @forever-rogue @buvky @buckys-darling @barnessupremacy @wallflowerbarnes @bvckysmoon @gryffindorwriter @nev3rfound @aerynwrites

bucky taglist: @marvel-rhapsody @bloomingbucky

[river-bottom-nightmare]

"you were missed, you know.” the voice is light, balancing on the edge of airy like a coin on its rim, in a way only careful practice yielded. so jason whirls around, faster than he normally would in a neatly-pressed suit and loose dress shoes. 

there’s a woman, close cropped red hair swinging into her face and pulling at the corners of her mouth until her expression is as severe as her form. there’s a scar on her jaw and, oh, the memory tumbles into his head as if pushed. kate kane, proof that vigilantism is genetic, once tugged jason into into her side and pulled him away from a particularly leering investor at function. the bite of her nails on his skin was a thousand times sweeter than the man’s smile.

she smirks. “hi.”

“haven’t seen you in a while,” jason responds, attempting casual and instead tripping, falling into his crime lord persona, since he doesn’t know how else to interact with people when he’s jason peter todd-wayne. 

“not since you died,” kate remarks and damn, right for the gullet. “you’ve grown up.”

jason shrugs, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again, suddenly feeling all of four feet, eight inches in the face of her candidness. “time’s funny like that.”

she eyes him carefully, trying to fish for the truth in what she believes is a lie wrapped in a careful quip. jason doesn’t blame her: he’s cultivated quite a reputation for himself. but he stripped the sarcasm from his words before he spoke them, and their rawness is shrouded in the bubbling champagne and crystal chandelier around them, but it’s no less present for anyone who knows how to peel the veil back.

“you were missed,” she repeats, satisfied with his answer. “not sure anyone’s told you that since you’ve come back. your family’s a stubborn bunch. i just wanted to make sure.”

“make sure i knew i was missed?” jason clarifies, feeling a little foolish, because dick wouldn’t beg to save his life but there were a few times that his words came close to pleas, and tim had made it clear how much he’d upheld the pedestal he’d put jason on, and alfred had actually told him that to his face. 

but this was the first time he found himself truly believing those familiar words. he hadn’t known kate, not at all. and yet, she nodded, clapped him on the shoulder once, twice, then left, completely unaware of the pit of resentment she’d carved out of jason’s stomach and thrown on the ground until jason felt like he’d slip on it if he moved, if he breathed.

she didn’t look back, but jason’s eyes didn’t stop following her until she was out of sight.

*

"you were missed, you know.” jason doesn’t startle, his training is etched into every scar decorating his skin, and there are times that he grips and holds onto those scars like a lifeline. he’s far too practiced to flinch, but he’d be lying to himself if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

he forgave himself in the next second, though. cassandra cain could make men much more experienced than him recoil. she appeared soundlessly, and folded down beside him with a grace that jason hadn’t seen anywhere outside his family. the amount of space she left between them, the relaxed posture that left visible tension cording through her arms like pulling steel taffy, the tilt to her body that made jason automatically want to open his mouth and let his tumultuous thoughts come out as an oil spill: right now, cass had dick grayson’s brushtrokes all over her.

“dick put you up to this?” 

cass shook her head, then bit her lip in a considering movement. jason wondered if he’d practiced, because bruce had long since broken that dangerous habit out of his children. 

“i am still working on comfort. assurance,”  she said, rifling through the words like flash cards, picking the most accurate ones. “i thought i’d practice.”

“oh? and why exactly do you think i need comfort.”

“i overheard your argument,” she admitted, “with bruce.”

“i didn’t think anyone was there.”

“i didn’t mean to,” she said. “sorry. but i heard what you said.”

jason scoffed. “prove me wrong. one step forward, two steps back with that dense motherfucker.”

“sign of protection,” cass said. “not distrust.”

out of everyone to say that to him, cass was probably the least likely. jason had thought she, of all people, would be on his side after he found the microchip in his helmet. she, of all people, would value independence after being owned for so long.

“by the time he found you, you were dead. and he missed you more than anything. he will never let that happen again.”

“oh yeah? privacy mean nothing to him? i know he’s crazy about this stuff but come on. there’s a limit.”

“you are not relying on him because of this.” cass stood up, stretching her back, though jason was sure she really didn’t have to. “he is relying on you. let him.”

*

“you were missed, you know.” 

“what, speaking from personal experience? i ain’t you, west.” jason could feel the gentle thrum of electricity behind him, making his hair stand on edge. two steps backward, and he’d be pulled into that void, that black hole of energy, that swirling vortex of pure power condensed into something human-shaped.

except he wouldn’t. it was just wally. just dick’s best friend joining him outside on the balcony. jason didn’t know how dick and tim could stand to be around speedsters willingly, for fun.

“i mean, sort of,” wally shrugged. “but me and you had very different experiences.”

“yeah, west, i’m not sure who else has been stuck in the fucking speedforce.”

wally snorted, an if only you knew hidden in plain sight. jason decided he really didn’t want to know. “i mean there’s that,” the speedster concedes, “but also, everyone forgot i existed. that didn’t happen with you.”

“you sure about that?” 

“hey,” wally eyed him, his eyes suddenly sharp. “don’t start that shit. i was erased from the memories of everyone i loved. you did nothing but stay in the memories of your family.”

“now i know we’re talking about two different things.”

“jason,” wally sighed, and the sheer exasperation pouring off him made jason want curl his fingers, bring them up for a swing, taste the bite of pain that would prick at his knuckles, nevermind the fact that wally would dodge anyway. “don’t do that.”

he turned to face the speedster, arms crossed deliberately over his chest. “where the hell do you get off acting like dick?”

“you’re more like dick than you realize,” wally said, “and i spent half my childhood dealing with his moods. actually, i still do.”

“do you have a point?” jason snapped, starting to get irritated. he wasn’t sure why. he’d spent his entire life one one end of a scale, dick grayson on the other. he’d always tipped his end down. this was the first time someone was telling him the scale was even.

“just because your family didn’t mourn the way you wanted them to,” wally said, “doesn’t mean they didn’t mourn you.”

“fuck you.”

“they loved you. and they missed you,” wally continues, steamrolling right over jason in a way most speedsters were prone to do. “there’s no minimum requirement for loss. no ‘if you didn’t do this, then you didn’t grieve me.’ that’s not even a situation, ever.”

“so that makes everything bruce did okay?” jason sputtered

“not at all. god knows i disagree with bruce on more things than i tolerate. but this is one thing you can’t fault him on.”

it wasn’t that easy, though. jason wanted to scream it at wally’s face, it wasn’t that easy. it wasn’t about whether bruce loved him enough,,,,except maybe it was. jason wanted bruce to have loved him enough to make a difference in gotham. jason wanted bruce to have missed him enough to change things, because change meant that bruce had been so hurt by his death that he refused to let it happen to anyone else again.

bruce had made a vow after his parents died. the fifteen year old inside jason was begging bruce why he hadn’t been afforded the same devotion. jason was his son.

“just something to think about,” wally said, then stepped backward, making to go inside where dick was calling him. “you were afforded the luxury of coming back with a place left empty in your family for you. you didn’t have to make it, like i did.”

“being dead, then coming back wrong isn’t a fucking luxury,” jason snarled.

with a shrug, wally turned, a little faster than the average human, lightning sparking at his heels as he left jason alone on the balcony. “depends on your definition of wrong.”

jason get therapy. please. also happy deathday

honestly i couldn’t decide whose side of the argument i was on, jason’s or wally’s.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption

[thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis]

Family (Hank Voight x Daughter!Reader)

Word Count: 3,033

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader (Familial relationship)

Summary: When you were 8 and dealing with a mother who left when you could barely walk and a father who was too loaded to even remember he was a father, Hank Voight found you and took you in. Now as an adult and working as a firefighter at Firehouse 51, you are shocked when your biological parents come back to be in your life again.

Warnings: talks of child abuse, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, swearing, and angst.

A/N: Y/M/N - Your Middle Name. Also, this is probably the longest imagine I’ve written so far, I hope you all enjoy it :)

If you want to be added to my tags, just ASK!!!

“Excuse me.” 

A rough gravely voice made 8 year old you look up at the imposingly tall figure above you. You squinted as flurries of Chicago snow fluttered around the two of you, sticking to the cracked cement and dried up grass on the sidewalk. The man had short dark hair and what your child’s brain thought of as “Dumbo-like” ears. He wore a blue and black police uniform and had a shiny silver star badge pinned to his chest.

“Hi,” The man said, moving down to kneel so that you were both around the same height. “Are you lost?”

You stared at the police officer for a second before shaking your head no, “I live around the corner.”

“Oh okay, how about I walk you home? Your mom and dad must be worried about you.” He offered. Again, you shook your head.

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t have a mom and my dad’s mean.”

“Mean?”

“Yeah, he yells and-and one time he pushed me into the tiny table in the tv room and it really hurt.” You explained, not really understanding your situation but something clicked in the police officer’s eyes. “But a lot of the time he gets sleepy from the bottles of smelly juice and the needles.”

The police officer nodded, and looked down the road in the direction you pointed out where you live. There is a long silence as you shifted on your tiny feet, not really knowing what was going on. Then the police officer turned to you and smiled, his eyes warm as they looked at you.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Well Y/N, my name is Officer Hank Voight. How would you feel about riding in a police car and seeing a real police station?”

For the first time since he found you, Hank saw your sad expression change into a huge smile, your eyes lighting up like the skyline on Chicago he loves so much. And he knew then that he was gonna help you out in anyway that he could.

                                                           ---

23 years later...

“Hey, Voight! You got someone outside asking for you!” Lieutenant Kelly Severide called out. You looked up from the cards in your hand and then looked around at your friends on Truck 81 who you were playing cards with. 

“Who is it?” You asked, already putting your cards down.

“A woman? Says her name is Carla Jennings.”

Still confused, you got up and made your way out to the bay where the trucks and ambo sat waiting for action. Capp and Joe Cruz were sitting at the Squad table, looking up when you walked in and Joe pointed out a woman who was standing just outside the station. Her light brown and gray hair was pulled into a ponytail and she looked around jittery, her hands popping in and out of her jacket pockets. It was gray outside, another Chicago winter just started and soon enough the snow would fall down on the Windy City. 

You walked over to the woman, her jittery motions stopping when she saw you approaching. A smile came on her face, and for a second you thought that you saw her eyes water a bit from the sight of you. “Carla Jennings?”

“Yes, hi.” Carla said, pulling out her hands from her jacket again. It looked almost like she was going to go in for a hug, but stopped and then held her hand out to you. “Y/N, right?”

“Yes, Y/F/N Voight. Is there something I can help you with ma’am?” You asked. Her smile that she had on before dimmed a bit when you said your name, but she forced it back on after you shook her hand and let go.

“Wow, look at you. You’re so grown up now.”

“Excuse me?”

“I-I just, I’m sorry.” Carla wiped away a couple of tears and sniffled, trying not to look away from you. “It’s just its been so long.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but I think there’s been some mistake. I don’t know who-”

“Your last name. It wasn’t always Voight.”

You stopped, and looked at her as she walked a little closer to you. You could feel the eyes of your fellow firefighters watching this interaction, then being just as confused as you were. “I’m sorry?”

“Your last name, it was Y/L/N. I’m right, aren’t I?” Carla said.

“Who are you? How do you know that?” You asked. Carla’s eyes started to water again, and she looked at you and sighed.

“Y/N, I’m your mom.”

You look at her, eyes scanning over her trying to piece together what she had said. You weren’t stupid, you knew that she was probably referring to your biological mother, not your mom, Camille Voight who raised you like her own and died of cancer. You had no memories of this woman standing in front of you.

“My mom died in 2011 of ovarian cancer.”

“No, I’m your real mom. I gave birth to you and held you and-”

“Left? You left and you left me with that man.” You said, your voice a little louder then before. She looked stunned, like this was news to her. “I’m sorry but whatever you want, I’m not interested.” 

You go to turn away and walk back into the firehouse when Carla grabbed your arm and stopped you. “Please! Please I’m you mom, I’m your blood!!”

You pulled away and turned back to her, “No, you are not my mom. You are a woman who was supposed to take care of me and left me with a drunk of a man before my dad came and took me in. So I owe you nothing.”

“Is everything okay here?” Chief Boden asked, finally walking over to the two of you and trying to catch your eye.

“Yeah, everything is fine. We’re done here.” You said as you took one last look at Carla and walked back towards the house. Herrmann tried to stop you but you walked past everyone and straight into Boden’s office, sitting down and waiting for him to come back inside. The anger you felt before in front of that woman started to settle down, and overwhelming emotions of loathing, sadness, and abandonment bubbled up until you were trying to hold back sobs. The office door opened and Chief Boden, and Lieutenants Casey and Severide walked in, all three circling you in worry.

“Y/N, what happened?” Severide asked, slowly putting a hand on your back and rubbing it up and down. Your crying started to subside, and once you got to a point where you were just sniffling and whipping tears away, you finally looked up to the three men around you. 

“Um, so that was my biological mother. And... I haven’t seen her since I was maybe 3?” You explained. You turned to Chief Boden and took a deep breath. “Is there any way I could clock out early? I-I need to see my dad.”

“Of course, you shouldn’t be working with this going on anyway. Take a couple days and come back with a clear mind.”

“Yes sir. Do you mind if I wait inside until she is gone? I feel like she might still be out there waiting for me.”

“How about we drop you off at the 21st?” Casey said, then turning to Boden, “We’ll have our radios on in case there is a call.”

Boden looked at you then nodded, “Go.”

“Thanks Chief.” You said, getting up and patting both Casey and Severide on the shoulders before passing them and heading towards the locker room to change. Your mind was racing as you got out of your work clothes, memories of what felt like a past life, waking up with beer and condiments in the fridge, hand-me-down clothes from the family 2 houses down that felt bad for my situation, but said nothing. Once the image of the red-hungover eyes and gnarled and matted hair came into your mind, you shut your locker, snapping yourself back into the present.

                                                         ---

Once everyone was on 81, the truck headed off into the city to your dad’s district. It was silent as the truck stopped at lights and turned corners, finally you got to the 21st and was about to jump out of the truck when Lieutenant Casey called out to you. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“I hope you’re able to work everything out.”

You sent a small smile his way, thanked him and jumped out. “See you guys later.”

“See you around, kid!” Herrmann yelled just as the truck took off back to the house. Turning, you started walking towards the station, the patrolmen mingling with others on the steps outside. Once you got in, you saw Sargent Trudy Platt manning the desk as usual and that put a small smile on your face. Trudy was always funny and nice to you growing up, and she treated you almost like a daughter. When she saw that you walked in, and by how observant she is probably catching your puffy face and red eyes, concern completely took over her stature.

“What is it? What happened?” She asked, coming around her desk and over to you, rubbing your arms comfort.

“Is my dad here? I just need to talk to him about something.”

“He’s out right now with Olinsky right now, but I think he’ll be back soon. You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” You said, taking a deep breath and shrugging, “I want to talk dad first.”

Trudy took a second before nodding, “I’ll buzz you up so you can wait in his office.”

“Thanks, Trudy.” You said as she gave your arm a gentle squeeze and walked back to your desk.

“You know you are the only person that I can tolerate, Y/F/N Y/M/N.” Trudy called out. She and Alvin Olinsky, your dad’s best friend, were the only two who got into the habit of calling you by your first and middle name. Instead of it feeling like you were in trouble like it would when you were a kid, it was always met with love. You were just about to start walking up the stairs to head into Intelligence when a male voice called out.

“Y/N? Y/F/N Y/L/N?” You froze, that voice immediately sending anxiety through you like a bucket of cold water. You slowly turned around and found a man trying to stand up from a bench, but was handcuffed to it. He looked exactly the same as he did when you were 8, exactly from when you would see him in your nightmares after moving in with the Voights. His hair was matted and looked unwashed, his eyes red and teeth yellow, and even from how far you were from him, you could smell beer wafting off him. “It is you. Where’ve you been, girl?”

“Danny.” You said, trying to keep your cool. You could see that Trudy had picked up the phone and was whispering something into it, you only catching your name and “get here now”. 

“Danny? What happened to dad, huh?”

“You stopped being my dad the minute I left that hellhole called a house.”

“Sorry darlin’, but that’s not how gen-et-tics works. You’re my kin and I will always be a part of you no matter who raises you.”

“Shut up.” You yelled. Others in the station were watching your interaction, you even heard the gate open at the top of the stair and figured that whoever was up at Intelligence came down to see what was wrong.

“Oh, don’t like that now do you? You can try and hide where you came from and clean yourself up, but you will always be Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, and you will follow in your families footsteps. You’ll either leave like that junkie-whore mama of yours, or you’ll end up like your dear-ol’-daddy.” He smirked as you started shaking, him noticing your reacting and smirking more, “You can’t run from what you’re made of.”

Just as he said that, Hank and Alvin Olinsky rushed into the building, Hank noticing you and turning to Danny who looked like he just won something. “Get him out of here.” Hank said, pointing to a patrolman near Danny. As the officer uncuffed Danny from the bench and recuffed his hands together, he started yelling.

“Ha! Now you got your crooked cop to come and save the day! Just like when you were a kid!” Danny started putting up a fight with the officer, trying to stay in the area, then turned to Hank, “You can take her and gussy her up, but trash is still trash.”

“Get him out of here!!” Hank yelled again, and two more officers ran over and finally took Danny out of the space. You were still staring at where he was when you felt a hand on your arm and harshly flinched. 

It was just Hank, and he frown at your reaction to him, not seeing that happen since you first came to live with him and Camille. “Hey, lets go upstairs.”

You nodded, and the two of you walk up to the Intelligence Unit, you can feel the people downstairs all watching after that spectacle. Once you were both safely in Hank’s office, you both sat down in the chairs in front of his desk, Hank’s eyes still on you as you avoid his.

“Why aren’t you at the firehouse?” 

“After what just happened, you won’t believe me if I told you.”

After a few seconds of silence, you finally looked up at your dad, and he gave you a look you remember a lot from your childhood with him. It basically said, ‘try me’, which made you sigh and rub your hands over your face.

“This woman came to the house asking for me, Carla Jennings, and ended up telling me that she was my mother. My biological mother.” You explain. Hank looked shocked, him never even knowing your bio mom. “I wanted to come see you so Chief Boden gave me a couple of days to get my head straight. And then that happened.”

“Yeah, Trudy said he was arrested on a DUI that almost killed a little girl.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

You sighed, hating that you came from him in the first place. You dropped you head into your hands as the information sunk in.

“Hey,” Hank said, putting a hand on your back and rubbing soothing circles, happy that he didn’t have to see you flinch because of him again, “Don’t you dare listen to his words.”

“Isn’t he right though? I was lucky to get out of that hell of a home because of you, but his and that woman’s genes are in me. Its a matter of time before I screw everything up.”

“Genetics don’t mean shit. Hey, look at me,” You looked up and he had a determined look in his eye, “You may have came from them, but their mistakes don’t rule over what you will do. Look what you have done without them here; you graduated top of your class in high school, and then again when you graduated from the Fire Academy. You showed all those sexists bastards that you are just as good, if not better, than any man on that truck, and now there is word that you might be up for a promotion to squad?”

“What?” You said, shocked with the information.

“Boden called me last week saying that you had been taking the classes needed to get on rescue squad? And because you are amazing and smart and strong, there was word from the higher ups that you might get that open spot on Squad 3 as the first woman in the Chicago Fire Department history to be admitted to rescue squad.” Hank explained. You started to smile as some tears escaped out of a mix of happiness, confusion and some residual feelings from what had happened earlier today. “They’re just finalizing some things but they’re going to announce it at the Fireman’s Ball later this month.”

“Oh my god.”

“And you did that all without them. They had no say on these things, and they will not have say on the rest of your life.” Hank said, pulling you into a hug. The two of you hugged for a while, your tears subsiding as you basked in the feeling of love you were getting from your dad. 

“Thanks dad.” You said as you finally pulled away. He smiled and patted the top of your head, sneaking a kiss into your hairline while he was at it. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Goose. Taking you in was the best decision I ever made.” He said, making you smile wider than you were before. A beat of silence passed before there was a knock on the door and Alvin came in, his eyes bouncing from you to Hank in worry.

“Everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks Uncle Alvin.”

“Yeah, no problem kid.” He said, smiling at you and messing up your hair before turning back to Hank, “Ander’s girlfriend was picked up, she’s in interrogation.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” Hank said, turning back to you as Alvin leaves.

You turn back to your dad and smile, “Can I stay in here? I kind of don’t want to go back to my apartment right now just in case that Carla woman knows where I live.”

“Yeah, take a nap on the couch in you want. We’re winding down with this case so when we’re done, you and me can go grab some dinner and we can talk about getting a restraining order on this lady.” Hank said. You were about to argue but you knew he was right. So you you nodded as Hank stood up and left one last kiss on your head before heading out of his office. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Be careful.”

Hank turned just as he was passed the doorway and smirked, “I’m always careful.”

“Oh-kay.” You said, sarcasm in your voice as you could hear your dad chuckle then head towards the interrogation rooms. 

TAGS:  @l4life​ @ithoughtiwasflying 

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched And Divine (Pt. 8)

(Yoon Min Joon x Reader) (Hybrid au) (Mafia au)

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers in hidden lies and dead bodies. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks. The clock ticks closer- every second he has with you bringing him closer to zero.

Tags: pregnant! Reader, Dead bodies, hybrid on hybrid violence, referenced police mistreatment/indifference, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, referenced drug use/overdosing, Angst, touch starved characters, violence, explicit sexual content, foursome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, Breeding kink, knotting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, unrealistic amounts of cum, cumplay, marking kink, Dom/sub undertones, Dom! Namjoon- Sub! everyone else, Cum control, Overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)

W/c: 20.3k~

A/n: get ready for some nasty af smut~ But also be mindful of the angsty tags. You guys are gonna hate me for the cliffhanger! 

Series Masterlist

One month after your husband's death

- Yoongi had learned when and where not to provoke his owner over the years. Yoongi hadn’t been born with the ability to hold his tongue, His biting proclivities earning him more than a few broken ribs and bloody noses in his lifetime. But no matter, his owner had trained his tongue out of him, had even threatened to cut it out on occasion.

- And yet, his personality couldn’t be measured in the same way, a simple eye roll or a huff or sigh was enough to land him in trouble. Which is why he’s in the position he’s in now; Bloody lip, another bruise likely forming under his eye and on his ribs. His head spinning from what is likely another concussion. How many could a person get before they had brain damage? Whatever the number- Yoongi was probably toeing the line or already over it.

- He’s trying to avoid more damage, which is why he sits outside of the living room of their double-wide trailer. His owner has a nicer house somewhere- but this is the place that’s always functioned as the stomping grounds for all of her illegal business. And It’s the only building that Yoongi’s ever been able to call home.

- The yellowing walls that have turned greasy with cigarette smoke over the years, as well as the thin blanket and the pillow that he uses on the couch when no ones hanging around. If they are and the house is filled with gangsters- Yoongi’s usually doomed to the floor or until they leave for the night. Only able to sleep without his back to the wall when the gangsters stop their drugging (usually methamphetamines) and intoxication (most often moonshine)

- More than one person’s overdosed on the couch that Yoongi calls his bed. He tries not to think about it when he goes to sleep. What did it matter if someone else had died here- at least Yoongi was still alive.

- Even breathes stick in Yoongi’s lungs like honey, something dammed and impure. It’s a testament to his nerves (or years of learned abuse) that he doesn’t flinch when the crashes and bangs increase from the other room. It’s just glass breaking- now gunfire- that would have Yoongi ducking and running for cover.

- Revelry like he’s used to surviving through hasn’t existed in recent months, not since the business, or lack thereof had started to seep into every moment like a slow-moving poison. Gang wars are messy and they take years to play out. But it hadn’t been until four weeks ago that his owner’s gang had suffered its first casualty. A gang couldn’t exist without its plug, and now there was a power vacuum in the underworld. And whoever controlled the supply would be the most in-demand.

- “I’ve had enough of your bullshit excuses! If you don’t find the shipment this instant I’m going to start blowing brains like bubbles” his owner screeches. A tumble and shatter sounds from the other room, probably the plate of food Yoongi took in before. Cooking was one of his only valuable skills according to his owner, and he’s spent at least a quarter of his life avoiding a beating by becoming a better cook.

- The threat doesn't bother him. Yoongi barely lets himself think about the business of the gang, the bloodstains and bodies that they’ve most definitely left in their wake. He tries not to let it bother him knowing that there will probably be more in the next few months. His only concern is making sure his body isn’t one of them.

- Yoongi doesn’t care about anything other than keeping himself alive. And even that just barely.

- He listens from outside the door, her screaming finally quieting. This isn’t the first meltdown of her’s he’s witnessed this week. He hears the rustling of papers, silence from her as whoever's on the other side of the phone speaks. “Yeah I have it, fuck- his bitch must really be moving if she already has this in the goddamn paper.” She pauses, and Yoongi hears one of the gangsters stoop to try and clean up the mess that she’s surely made, “If that’s true, I think I know the perfect person for the job- if you can even call it that.” 

- It helps that Yoongi’s not expected to speak. Sometimes, when there’s a loud enough noise, or when he sneaks out to walk the sum mile to the beach, Yoongi speaks. Just a sentence or two at a time, his voice gruff and sore after a few words. Just to make sure that he can still do it and hasn’t forgotten how. That his voice still exists hidden somewhere in his chest and his throat. Locked away like a delicate yolk- only able to be seen if you break the eggshell outside.

- “Yoongi!” his owner shrieks, and he has the good sense to hasten to a place where she can see him. He stands in the doorway and doesn’t meet her eyes. There are a few assorted gangsters here. His owner looks unhinged, her flyaway hairs sticking in front of her face, wiping away smudged lipstick and a fair amount of saliva that had dripped down her chin from all her screaming.

- “I have a job for you” She tosses a newspaper at him, and Yoongi catches it easily. Careful not to step into the mess of glass that would surely cut his feet. A drawn red circle cuts through an article on a local high school to highlight something in the purchased ads. Just a little map with a heading “hybrid sanctuary: a safe place, three meals a day. If you or anyone you know has witnessed hybrid abuse, please call this number for help.”

- Yoongi looks up, giving her a short nod. Yoongi will do whatever she needs in order to survive. Anything to keep the blood in his veins and his heart beating. 

- He listens patiently while she explains the plan.

---------- Now---------

- The clock ticks, and You don’t find the body until noon. By then there are flies buzzing around him. Blood already dried on those fingertips and underneath His fingernails- the sun warming his body like the hybrid could still be alive.

- You’re just retiring from a day working in the garden (usual and ordinary) when one of the bear hybrids thunders through your door- his eyes wide, shouting for you (strange and surprising). Yoongi is the only one with you; Jimin’s just set off down the hill to change. Namjoon’s not in the house either; helping Jin with more fencing for the animals. 

- Your grim expression is mirrored in the terse face of the teenage hybrid that had been going for a walk when he’d found him. You’d started down the hill at a run At least until Yoongi had stopped you. Eyeing your stomach with a worried expression. It’s not that you can’t run or that he doesn’t think you should it’s that the hilly path down to the front entrance is littered with potholes.

- It’s not your first time seeing a dead body (that honor is owed to your late husband) but the unnatural way a body lies still is always incredibly unnerving. You lean over the body nausea rolls in your belly worse than it ever did in the first few months you were battling your morning sickness. But you know you can’t vomit over a crime scene.

- You recognize the body, It’s one of your hybrids; a coyote hybrid that came to you after the second month you were open, and had come and gone quite a bit since then. You need to look at your ledger to know for sure if he was in-between stay or if he’d been here prior to today.

- You tend to be a little laxer with the hybrids that aren’t permanent residents of the farm. You barely even learn the names of the deer hybrids that come for a dinner or two here and there before they go. You’re used to the nomads and this hybrid was one of them. You’re kicking yourself for that now. Because if you have a killer in your mix- a shiver goes down your spine at the thought of any of them being in danger. You need to get all of your hybrids in one place to make sure they’re safe. Right now.

- You turn to yoongi and the teenager; a bear hybrid from Tae's group- Beomgyu. You recall the little details you know about him- how he likes to hang around with Yeonjun and the other cats in the kitchen sometimes. He’s so young, eyes wide, shaking his head making his curved ears flop when he finally tears his eyes away from the body and looks at your face. 

- You make your voice more soothing, “Ring the lunch bell- get everyone by the main barns okay? We need to make sure everyone is accounted for” the bear hybrid turns to run up the hill but you catch his arm. “The barns have to direct a line of sight to here- so keep the children in the far-field, after you ring the bell- get Namjoon and Taehyung and tell them to come here before you tell anyone what's happened.” The last thing you need is a group stumbling around here and contaminating a crime scene.

- He leaves with a thunder of footsteps in the dry grass, “Yoongi” you say, “Would you mind going up to the main house to get the logbook and my cellphone?” Yoongi looks like he doesn’t want to leave eyeing the road with a suspicious glare. Making a noise in his throat and staying put. “Yoongi” your voice is strangled- like you’re trying not to cry. “He’s been dead for hours, any danger here has passed, I’m safe- I promise.” but Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your hand and then thinks better of it.

- At the sound of heavy footsteps you both look back up the hill- Namjoon racing in your direction, his ears pinned to his head with Taehyung not far behind. He gives you one final glance and nods before he takes off up the hill. Namjoon stops when they pass, calling his name but Yoongi doesn’t stop. “let him go Namjoon” you call behind.  

- The bell that they use to call people in at mealtimes tolls out across the field.

- Yoongi watches as the kits raise their heads from their playing in the field. A look at the sun telling them that it’s too early to be called in for dinner, lunch just finished. The confusion that gives way to panic as he travels through a crowd of older hybrids. He almost runs into one of the cat hybrids as she leaves the kitchen. Shouting back to her friend that’s fussing with something. “Just turn off the stove- something’s wrong we need to go.”

- Yoongi snatches the book from your small office off the living room and thunders back down the porch steps, pausing when he sees it. Anyone else might not have noticed the difference- or noticed it at all. But Yoongi used to survive by noticing the small day-to-day differences in his world; and it’s a habit that hasn’t died even though Yoongi no longer needs it to survive.

- There is a piece of paper stuck behind your windshield wipers on your car. Not a ticket and not a note- but a business card. And Yoongi knows it wasn’t there yesterday.

- Yoongi pauses, your phone in one hand, and the logbook in another. He shoves your phone in his pocket and wastes precious seconds to retrieve it. It’s simple- just plain cardstock a single sentence on the other side. “You’re welcome” there isn’t any signature beside a small doodled bunny rabbit. 

- Yoongi knows that signature. Memories dredge up from the bottom of his mind like a swell of cold water washing over him. He’d seen his old owner- (his current owner- his own internal monologue berates him) go into a rage after seeing that same moniker spray-painted across her truck or buildings on more than one occasion.

- Yoongi rolls his tongue over his teeth, putting it together. His owner’s words- dimly alluding to a second mole at the farm- warning Yoongi to be careful. And now this- a thank you card from a rival gang. Chaos whirls around him as different groups run to the barns. He hears Taehyung’s raised voice “Everyone quiet! I need you to listen to me- please!” 

- Other hushed words echo from the field as Yoongi puts it together. In a moment, Yoongi knows what’s happened- but he can’t for the life of him understand the motivation.

- What motivation could his owner’s rival have to kill their mole? And if he knew who at the farm was connected to the gang life- why didn’t he kill Yoongi last night too? This body and this note raise too many questions.

- Yoongi doesn’t think it through, just shoves the card into the bottom of his work boot, hiding it so that it lies flat under his sock. Knowing it's better to hide it then hand it over to the police. Yoongi’s hands shake with the very idea of you being caught up in this mess. Although it looks like it's already too late for that. How much less involved can you be with a dead body on your front doorstep?

- If the note is addressed to you? How much do you know about your late husband's business- if anything?

- You attribute Yoongi’s shakiness to the dead body you’re deceptively calm- nausea set aside when he gets back. yoongi nearly runs into taehyung on the way down the hill. Anger an annoyance and worry rolling off the bear hybrid in heady waves. “Don’t worry- Jimin and I have nearly everyone in the barns already, and Daehyun and Hoseok are taking care of the cubs on the other side of the field” 

- Taehyung barely looks at Yoongi as he passes, shouting at you over his shoulder. It helps to hear that Jimin is all right, but Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll believe it until he sees the other hybrid with his own two eyes. Namjoon looks much the same. Though he holds your hand tight as he can.

- You call the police the second Yoongi hands over your phone. And together- you wait for them. Namjoon sends an anxious glance both of your ways. It doesn’t take long before you can hear the sirens heading in your direction, echoing out over the empty hills.

- Back up at the barns, Jimin sits on the second floor, the windows are opened to their full capacity to let in a nonexistent breeze. The top floor of the barn isn’t really the most comfortable place to be in the middle of the day, the heat muggy, and all-encompassing. But every dog hybrid is in their bunk room. but it’s too hot to be comfortable regardless of the fans running at full power. Jimin sits on the floor dangling his feet over the side.

- Below- Jimin watches Taehyung as he does a headcount. Clipboard in hand, shouting names and waiting for people to respond. the hybrids have separated themselves by type, bunny hybrids on the outer edge, bear hybrids close to the center around Tae, Cat hybrids on the ground floor to stay out of the sun. Jimin and dog hybrids- the most easily riled up and hardest to contain because of their energy- on the top floor where they’d all stay put and not sneak off. 

- Jimin’s room has already been counted, there isn’t much left to do but wait and watch. If he looks over the hillock he can see the police cars and you. The flashing blue and red lights and a small group.

- A small crowd has gathered to watch and linger, police tape set up to the entrance of your farm. A few of your neighbors gathered too at the sound and small-town gossip is sure to follow. Your two closest neighbors- an elderly couple come over to ask you a few questions about all the commotion. They’ve never been unpleasant to you or hostile, still happy that you took their farm animals off their hands many months ago. But they remain firmly separated from your hybrids on either side of a circle of crime scene tape.

- When Jimin looks to the other side, he can see Hoseok and another dog hybrid with the children. Sequestered them with a bunch of games and ice pops on the other side of the hill, away from any and all possibility of them seeing something they shouldn’t.

- Even some of your hybrids linger around the crime scene. the leaders of various groups that need to see for themselves. Beomgyu is here too as well- even though you gave him a look that said you dont need to see this. As it is, you give the teenagers that refuse to go a questioning cross look. Yeonjun in particular just shrugs at you when you give him an expectant look. All of the teenaged hybrids are particularly used to your no-nonsense looks. It doesn’t help that he’s several inches taller than you. 

- “You really think this is the first time I’ve seen a dead body?” one of the other cat hybrids has the good sense to cuff him over the back of his head for that one. You know he’s young, but some respect for life and death is something he’ll have to learn at one point or another. If he wants to stay that bad- you’ll let him. 

- Namjoon might hate the police, but he does speak their language, and it’s easy for you to sink to his side and rely on him to take over the story as you relate everything you know (which isn’t much). The pack leaders- or what would be the pack leaders all waiting on the fringes. Taehyung comes back to tell you that there isn’t anyone but a few bunny hybrids missing- quickly sniffed out by one of the dog hybrids, all of them looking a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed from whatever they were doing.

- That gets a few laughs out of everyone that’s gathered- Taehyung shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but tempers still remain raised. From the top story of the barn, Jimin watches it unfold. Taehyung shoots him a tired look.

- A quick look at your ledger shows that the last time the hybrid left was just a little over a week ago. Your fingers hover over the date. The book is photographed by the crime scene photographers too, the camera bulbs flashing, a few of your more sensitive hybrids have to turn away- the bright flash too glaring. The officers take little notice of their discomfort.

- They tell you that they might come back to collect it for official evidence. It’s nice to have something to give the police to show them that the hybrid wasn’t in your care when he died. You have a good reputation with them because of your ex-husband as much as you hate to admit it. And it’s jarring to hear you referred to as his widow, especially with Namjoon standing so close, a protective presence between you and the police. 

- A few months ago you might have started breaking down when you heard his name, but all you have to do is look at Namjoon to know that you’re okay, you’re both safe. 

- Well maybe not now- if you have a killer in your midst then you’re all certainly not as safe as you thought.

- For all the feaux concern they have about the dead hybrid- the ones around you might as well be window dressing. They would have ignored Namjoon entirely if he hadn’t introduced himself as an ex-police hybrid.

- It’s more than that, their unconcern sinks under your skin and makes you want to shout at them as they take his body away in a black body bag. They promise you they’ll try to find whatever killed him. They don’t look too bothered- another dead hybrid isn’t anything new or a cause for panic to them, about as regular as finding any other pet- and not a fucking human being- dead or murdered.

- The police tell you they’ll do what they can- but a dead hybrid is hardly their priority, even if it makes a growl build in Namjoon’s throat when they brush off your concern. Your blood boils. 

- But as the sequestering drags on and on into the afternoon- and the temperature increases with every moment everyone still has to stay put. the idle chatter quickly turns agitated. In the main barn- A few of them have been playing cards on and off, most of them in states of undress because of the heat. Jimin is the only man still wearing his shirt, though it’s only his tank top.

- “What the fuck do you think it is? Who do you think killed them?” Jimin listens in on the other hybrid's conversation against his own violation. He’s never been close to the other dog hybrids at the farm save for Namjoon, and he’s not about to start right now. They laugh, but it sounds more like a bark- or a hyena chuckle, “you know me- if there’s an issue my money's always on the snake,”

- Jimin’s head whips around, “Excuse me?” the hybrids turn to him, “oh Jimin- we forgot we were here” if they want that insult to sting- they’re going to have to try a little harder. Jimin was used to being forgotten for the first half of his life, and that won’t start hurting now.

- Sweat drips down the back of Jimin’s neck, “he has a name you know,” he says with no real venom. it’s greeted with resounding scoffs from a few of his bunkmates. He lets the silence sit for a moment before the weight of it grows too oppressive for him to handle, “What?” he says feeling like he’s missing something. The rest of the hybrids in the bunk room fall quiet.

- The dog hybrid- Taeyong- Jimin’s brain reminds him, snickers. “Nothing- just- figures you’d be possessive of him after yesterday.” A flush of heat hits Jimin’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Someone must have seen Yoongi leave the showers and then seen Jimin leave a short minute later looking sex dazed. He knows the meeting had left his scent all smelling like honey arousal. They must have put two and two together.

- Damn those bunny hybrids with their sensitive noses. Now that Jimin thinks about it- Taeyong is a friend of one of them- a small little rabbit called Jihan.

- Jimin shrugs it off because fuck them- he is protective of Yoongi and this conversation only shows the reason for that. But they don’t leave it at that- not at all. Taeyong taps his foot against the floor, grinning and showing the edge of a sharp incisor “Being with him will only end you in an early grave you know, but you might as well keep your head down and enjoy your one-way ticket to living up at the big house.” 

- “That’s not why I’m- we’re not-“ he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t say that he’s with Yoongi- not officially, not yet. And though there is something with them. Jimin doesn’t know how to put a name to it. let alone how to put a name to what he has with all of you. 

- There must be something written on his face, because the hybrid sits back, satisfied that he’s hit Jimin with something that can stick. The other hybrids snicker. A fair few turn away- sensing the fight that’s about to develop, content to stay out of it.

- “You know he doesn’t deserve to be up at the big house right,” Jimin can’t stop himself from getting angry at the calloused way they talk about Yoongi. His temper rising with the heat, Jimin has never been good at holding his tongue, and maybe it’s his fault that things happen the way they do. Jimin rises, and so does Taeyong, Suddenly chest to chest, “well if he doesn’t deserve it- you certainly don’t, maybe if you guys were just kind for once in your life you’d be staying up there too.” Jimin barks.

- A few other hybrids blanch, and more turn away, Jimin’s misspoke- can judge by the silence that he’s the one being judged. “And I actually happen to enjoy their company- I’m not-”

- Jimin knows what he’s just insinuated, that being loved is just a correlation of being kind and pleasant to be around. (You’ve been talking through that particular thing with him. The fawn response to abuse. And Jimin knows he should unpack that later, but like many other things- it just slips out. His post-traumatic stress disorder makes him think things he knows are wrong. He doesn’t believe the words he says, not really.)

- Taeyong steps forwards, and Jimin shrinks back sudden bravery forgotten. “You’re not what? Being a manipulative little puppy? Batting your eyes at them so that you could get a spot? Go tell that lie to someone who believes you. You might be a puppy, but you’re a snake to your core.” 

- Jimin has never wanted Taehyung to be there more than now. Where is he when he needs him? Jimin looks back through the open window, but Taehyung isn’t below them on the patio. Their fight seems to have gotten more than a little attention. Wide eyes upturned, startled by the sound of raised voices. It's the wrong moment to look away because suddenly Jimin’s reeling from a shove, two hands on either shoulder. 

- Jimin catches himself on the window frame. The open space taunting and frightening. All at once, the image hits him; another well-placed shove- Jimin falling- cracking against the slate patio outside where you usually set up dinner, the ground hard and unforgiving. Bones breaking. 

- Jimin isn’t sure why he says it; “No wonder why you haven’t got adopted if this is how you act when someone disagrees with you.”

- Jimin’s never fallen from any height before. But he’s been tossed and pushed and shoved, and never learned how to fight back. He freezes now at the memory of it. He’s been shoved into concrete before, and he bets slate hurts just as much.

- “Don’t pretend like you haven’t had your eyes set on the big house since you first got here puppy, little thing like you probably just wants to be owned- how do you even have an ounce of self-“ 

- Jimin gets shoved again, and he barely manages to hold his ground. Taeyong grips his shirt in both his fists, lifting Jimin up so that he struggles to keep his feet on the ground. 

- From below, he hears a shriek, His name shouted from your mouth. You run as fast as you can, Yoongi stayed behind to help you. His face turned up imploring at Jimin. Jimin hears the thud of Namjoon’s feet on the wooden floor below. He and Taehyung, as they take the stairs two at a time. Jimin doesn’t know how they knew to come, or how suddenly everything’s escalated.

- The other hybrid steps forward, and there is nowhere left for him to go, Jimin grips the window frame, and tries not to let go.

- Namjoon’s words can barely be made out around the growl, suddenly in the doorway. Jimin keeps his eyes on the hybrid in front of him. Not at Namjoon’s face, screwed tight with anger. “Enough, step away from him.”

- Namjoon looks more threatening than Jimin’s ever seen him, teeth bared, ready to attack. His curved ears quivering as Namjoon seems to swell in the doorway, his eyes shiny and reflective in the half-light. An alpha ready to protect his own. The scars that crisscross his face a reminder of the lengths he’s willing to go to protect his family.

- A sheepish looking Taehyung toes the line behind him, “I’m sorry- I heard the beginning outside the door and went to get them” Jimin is at once thankful for Taehyung and a little angry- because really? He couldn’t be bothered to just intervene then? Taeyong seems to think for a moment before he lets Jimin go. Jimin sees Namjoon’s hands tighten into fists by his side. The threat of what he might have tried to do dissipating. You rush forward with Yoongi, pulling Jimin out of the doorway.

- More than one hybrid in the room jerks when you get too close to the window. They can’t help it- for many of them, you’re the only human they’ve had a positive relationship with. And the dog hybrids are nothing if not a loyal bunch. Which is probably why Taeyong shrinks back, nostrils flared- still angry and feeling threatened. like a cornered animal. 

- Jimin tries not to run back to Namjoon’s side- but it's hard, especially when he makes eye contact with Yoongi. Your chest heaving blinking away tears as You pull Jimin to you easily, a hand on his cheek. Eyes so worried, searching his face and his frame for even a hint of damage. The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance “I’m okay- it’s okay- I’m fine.”

- “It wasn’t my fault, Jimin started it” you look up, and Jimin can tell from the tilt of your eyes that you don’t believe them for a second, your voice is shaky when you speak, so quiet. and jimin wonders- how many other times you’d spoken up like this in your past against your ex-husband and gotten hurt for it. It takes no small amount of bravery for you to speak now and Jimin’s arms tighten protectively around you. 

- “This isn’t- this isn’t how you treat another person Taeyong even if he did start it- you don’t react with violence.” one of the other hybrids shakes his head at Taeyong- but he doesn't react well to your words. Bearing his teeth at you and it takes every ounce of self-control for your three hybrids not to jump in front of you at such an obvious display of aggression. 

- “He shoved me first” Taeyong lies, and Namjoon answers it with a growl. stepping up to go chest to chest with him in much the same way that Jimin had just minutes before. The other dog hybrid crumbles against the alphas stare. “Would you like to repeat that? or do you maybe want to tell the truth this time?”

- You pull Jimin behind you and Namjoon steps between you and the other hybrids, looming and large in the small space. “If I hear that you're causing any more trouble you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can say “it wasn’t my fault” Namjoon barks, turns, both you and he have a hand on Jimin’s trembling shoulders. When did they start shaking?

- A sudden hush has settled over the hybrids, everyone is here to witness it. And it doesn’t make sense until they hear a set of quiet footsteps at the door. “Is everything alright miss?” the police officer says in the doorway, suspiciously eyeing the hybrids. His hand hovering dangerously close to the gun in his holster. The fucking police- Jimin had almost forgotten they were here.

- You don’t look shaken, stepping back to be between him and your hybrids, and the police officers' shoulders relax. You’re so disarming- Jimin barely sees you shake even though he can smell the distress rolling off of you in waves. Turning your usual scent all muddy. Your smile is strained, “No officer- everyone’s just a little bit high strung right now I think. We’re fine.” 

- “Sorry for that distraction, we can continue up to the main house if you’d like. After you.” You set back off down the steps and Jimin knows what you’re doing- keeping the police officer away from them because you know how twitchy the cops make most of the hybrids. “No thank you- I dont think that will be necessary. As your k-9 unit specified earlier in his interview the crime scene is mostly contained in the driveway. I think we’ve seen enough.”

- Jimin can’t help but stumble to Namjoon’s side, pressed tight under the arm of his alpha. Namjoon’s disarmed by Jimin's sudden need for affection; for his alpha all around him. “We’ll talk about this later” Taehyung glowers at the other hybrids and they all fall silent. Namjoon’s ire- they might be a little more used to but Taehyung’s anger is used a little more sparingly. The four of them, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung the unlikely fourth turn to leave.

- You’re already in the lower level of the barn when Taeyong speaks, his voice low to keep it out of earshot from you. “Sure thing pet,” Taeyong says under his breath- though really what was he trying to do? Everyone here had above average hearing- so really, his whispered insults whereas good as speaking at normal volume.

- And to a hybrid- being called a pet is the ultimate insult.

- Namjoon freezes in the doorway, no matter that Jimin’s hand pulls at the arm of his long-sleeved shirt. A whine building for him to just leave it alone. Namjoon turns, jabbing his finger at Taeyong. “I want you gone before sundown tomorrow.” 

- The four of them head down the stairs, leaving the silent room. The ground floor of the largest barn the area is flush with activity. With hybrids going every which way you must have decided that it was okay for everyone to return to their days as normal. Someone calls Taehyung’s name, asking for his help with something before he’s even fully down the narrow steps, Taehyung sends Jimin a single discerning look before he leaves. Namjoon utters a soft thank you to him as he slips away.

- In the grass- you share one final word with the police officer, shaking his hand with one hand resting on your baby bump. Though Jimin can tell from the way you hold yourself it's the last thing you want to do. He nods at Namjoon once as they approach and heads off down the hill. You’re quiet for a moment, going to hold jimin’s hand while Namjoon and Yoongi mill. None of you are sure what to do next.

- “I’m assuming Taeyong won’t be a problem anymore?” Namjoon has the good sense to look a little abashed at that. “He said- there was- he’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.” Is all he says, and you nod, giving a sad look back to the barns. But you don’t counter what Namjoon’s said.

- And while Jimin knows there needs to be some sort of order here- it still seems a little extreme. Even if the threat of bodily harm was there- he didn’t actually do anything. It seems a little severe to throw them out for just a couple of words, and a shove. He tells Namjoon this much as they walk up the footpath to the main house.

- You whip your head around, looking stricken, and Jimin have to struggle not to flinch back, you look almost angry with yourself for the sudden movement. all of you are a little on edge. “He almost hurt you Jimin! he was about to-“ Yoongi fists a hand in the back of Jimin’s shirt, “if he’d hurt you I don’t know what I’d-“ you break off, and Jimin sees you sigh and the breath sounds all rickety like there's something else rattling around in your lungs. You shake your head and hold onto his hand tighter.

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip and keeps walking towards the main house after a moment. And he can’t help feeling like he was the one who kind of did start it. A hand on your arm to help you up the steps. You’re getting more and more pregnant every day, and your baby bump has become more of a mound than the small bulge you had when Jimin first came.

- Jimin just wants to make sure you don’t wobble or trip. Unable to shake the feeling that the reason why Namjoon had punished the others was because of how they’d treated Jimin- and not because of any rules.

- Jimin’s gotten to know you and Namjoon pretty well over the last few months, but the way Namjoon keeps his head down, playing with his hands, makes him look younger and more open than he’s ever been around Jimin. Namjoon and Jimin linger just inside your house. standing quietly- letting their tempers fade.  

- The cat hybrids have already started dinner, the clamor familiar and comforting. One of them hears you come in and calls your name; Yoongi is close behind, he doesn’t look at Jimin. And Jimin smells his scent- his fluffy marshmallow goodness twined with a hint of something burn and feels the guilt clinging to him like bad perfume. He’s about to head after him when Namjoon grabs his shoulder. “Should I- you’re going to stay up here right?”

- Jimin sucks on his lower lip. and even he has to admit that staying up here tonight is a more attractive offer than returning to the barns anytime soon. “Yes- if you want me too” Namjoon nods, looks shy, but Jimin can tell what he’s feeling through his scent. The worry makes the pine strong and musky and tempts Jimin to curl up in it. Namjoon couldn’t tolerate being separated from any of his pack right now; not with the danger of a killer on the loose. Namjoon tugs him in the direction of the stairs. “There’s something I want to show you then.”

- The last time he’d been up on the more private floor of your house he hadn’t really had any time to explore. Namjoon leads him to one of the unknown and previously unopened doors that line the long hallway between your master suite and the stairs, pointing out Yoongi’s room as they go. The room is small and more than a little dusty. But it’s the closest unoccupied room to the master suite and across the hall from Yoongi’s. “Oh” Jimin realizes as it clicks, “you meant stay- as in move in stay.”

- Namjoon has to kick away boxes of Christmas decorations to get to the queen covered with a white sheet that fluffs with dust when he pulls away. Jimin touches the edge softly. He’s never had a bed so big all to himself before- he doesn’t know how he’s going to handle so much vacant space next to him.

- There will be no soft sounds of sleep and rising chests when Jimin wakes in the middle of the night. Only the sounds of the house, and even though this means he’ll get to spend more time with you, Namjoon, and Yoongi, the room can’t help but feel lonely. Something in his chest reminds him that he’s not really that far, Yoongi’s room is across the hall, and yours just a few steps after that.

- Maybe he won’t feel so lonely after all.

- The windows are covered with thick drapes, kind of small in themselves. And it makes the room feel darker and cold. “We’ll move out the decorations to the attic tomorrow, are you gonna be okay with this for tonight? We can get you some fresh sheets and blankets.”

-  Jimin nods hands tugging back the curtains to let more light in. Namjoon reaches around him to crack it open when the window sticks. Even though this room doesn’t feel like his yet. Namjoon almost drops a box of decorations “you could also sleep in our room if you want?”

- Jimin can’t do much more than just blush and nod, stuttering out that he’ll decide later. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be all snuggled close between you and Namjoon it’s just that- things are happening a little too fast. Jimin feels like he might need a night to just decompress.

- The body, the police, the fight, and Jimin almost falling through the window. For some reason, Jimin feels paralyzed in that doorway. On one hand, he’s happy that he has a room here now that he doesn’t have to go back to the bunk room for more than his clothes, and on the other hand he’s sure he doesn’t deserve it.

- Like Namjoon can sense he’s overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to feel, he pulls Jimin to follow him. Gentle orders that tell Jimin what to do with his body and give his mind a second to catch up. Namjoon retrieves fresh linens and a big fluffy blanket from the closet while Jimin hovers hugging a pillow to his chest. 

- The elder prattles along to Jimin about getting him some more things to fill the room like a dresser when Jimin notices it. A small narrow door that’s mostly glass down the hall from your master bedroom and the bathroom that Jimin assumes he’ll share with Yoongi.

- Unless Yoongi has a bathroom in his room. Jimin asks Namjoon- who tells Jimin that he does and Jimin pouts. He has to admit he wouldn’t mind Sharing a bathroom with Yoongi. Flashbacks of that night, of Yoongi’s skin, pressed close to his underneath the deluge of water- consume him for a moment at the thought of that. 

- Before he pads over to see the other room at the end of the hallway. It’s narrow, only the with of the couch at the end and twice as long, Jimin could probably touch both walls if he lied down on the floor Waist height windows ring the outside of the room and a few skylights cast square shadows on the floor, The roof slanted down at one edge.

- A single potted plant sits on the waist-high shelf- crusty and brown from no one watering it. He orients himself in the house to figure out what room is below him but the smells and sounds drifting up from the floor tells him he’s somewhere above the kitchens.

- He stands in the doorway. A thick layer of dust sits on everything. But the light is amazing. All golden in the afternoon haze though that might just be the walls. The light yellow paint is faded, cracked a bit by the doorway but it's nothing a fresh coat couldn’t fix.

- Jimin knows the second he sees it that he wants it.

- Namjoon finds him standing in the doorway. Already looking out the windows- he can see the gardens from here and the woods that stretch beyond. And the edge of a falling-down barn yet to be restored by you and Namjoon- and a tiny sliver of the river. “What- what is this?” Jimin’s voice is so hushed. So quiet, like he’s worried about disturbing the dust.

- Namjoon comes up close behind him, putting his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “It’s a sunroom.” Namjoon clarifies. In the afternoon light, Namjoon’s skin looks honeyed and golden, horizontal shafts of light stretching across his face. Namjoon pulls Jimin close, nose running along his hairline and near his ears, nuzzling into them. His back the perfect place for Jimin to rest his heavy shoulders. 

- “Is it okay if I- can I stay here and not the other room?” Namjoon’s smile is reassuring and gentle, “probably, but let's ask.” Of course, Namjoon would know Jimin needed explicit permission right now- needs the sureness of a yes or no from you.

- The sight that awaits Namjoon and Jimin in the living room is one that warms both of their hearts. You and Yoongi sitting side by side in front of the television. you’re listing into Yoongi sleepily head on his shoulder. Your eyes fluttering against your cheek adorably. Yoongi sends Namjoon a panicked look which means “please save me from her she’s being needy” but at least Yoongi isn’t shaking and going all panicky.

- With a word from Namjoon you wake, sitting up straight and yawning, taking in Jimin hovering on the steps, your smile sleepy and a little dopy. Your eyes still half-closed still looking soft and an inch from resting as you need.

- Namjoon’s hand rubs up and down your swollen exposed ankle. His voice honeyed like he doesn’t really want to wake you up. Hell Jimin would carry you up the stairs to let you rest in your own bed and not the couch even though it's barely 5 pm. It's been a long day for all of you. 

- “Hey, can Jimin take the sunroom instead of the other room?” Yoongi gives a little surprised noise, eyebrows lifting in question, you seem to share his confusion. Jimin realizes that you must have already talked about which room would be his, and whole new warmth floods him. “Are you sure? That room’s a little small.”

- “I’d like to stay in there if you’ll let me- I mean- I can go back to the barns too” maybe he’d go to the girl side this time- he’s sure they wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the male hybrids. Namjoon and Yoongi look upset that he’d even try to suggest that. “Take the sunroom Jiminie,” you say, Namjoon and Jimin watch as Yoongi’s hands shake when he reaches forward before he slowly draws his hands through your hair, and you arch into he touch. If you were a hybrid Jimin thinks you’d be purring.

- Namjoon does actually end up carrying you upstairs, despite your protests that you could do it yourself. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Jimin finishes it for him saying, “we’ll make dinner, you should rest.” Namjoon pauses on the lower step with you in his arms, and Jimin feels something in him settle. There isn’t a little bit of you that doesn’t want him to stay here, the way you so easily give up space for Jimin to be accepted into your routine- your home.

- It’s good; it feels good to knock shoulders with Yoongi in the kitchen, the craziness of the day calmed as the cat hybrids bring the food down to the barns for everyone. 

- Taehyung stops by briefly to have a word with Namjoon- telling the elder that they have a rotating watch figured out for tonight to make sure nothing else happens. Taehyung empties out with the other cats, leaving just Jimin and Yoongi. It’s harder than it should be, but Yoongi instructs Jimin on how to do the chopping with a careful and slow demonstration while he starts on the stew.

- When Namjoon reappears a few minutes later he puts on the radio- switching it to something a little bit more his style, not kitschy pop or idealistic  questionable country music, though Jimin doesn’t like it at first listen, he hears Yoongi humming along and figures- it’s enough to have them enjoy it. Especially to see Namjoon try and fail to shake his ass. 

- The night gets even better when Jimin goes to get you from your bed, calling your name so you wake up with barely a huff as you blink at him. You look so soft Jimin can’t resist it, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your forehead. 

- You eat dinner on the porch, and the night gets better with every moment. every second Jimin realizes that he always should have been here. The love filling Jimin up just like the fresh bread and Yoongi’s stew, Namjoon and Jimin go inside halfway through the dinner to get blankets for you and Yoongi.

- Dinner reinvigorates you four, and though Jimin protests “I can just sleep in the other room tonight it’s really not a big deal” Namjoon and Yoongi shake their heads at him, though you're left out since you really can’t lift anything. 

- After dinner Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin pull down the attic stairs from the hallway, and go up to the third floor to find a bed that will fit in the sunroom. You shout and pull yoongi out of the way when Namjoon and Jimin lose their grip and the soft mattress clangs down the stairs, sliding with a soft thump. They’re more careful with the box spring.

- They shout and huff with joyful frustration when the couch gets stuck in the doorway of the sunroom. The kind of happiness that comes with a problem that you can fix- and like who you fix it with. And finally, when you fit the double bed into the space it just barely fits. You set the bed up with pillows and sheets asking Jimin again and again if he really doesn’t mind just the single bed while Namjoon and Yoongi put the green velvet couch outside in the hallway nook, just across from the bathroom.

- The first morning Jimin wakes in the sunroom is the most peaceful morning he’s ever gotten. The light comes in so early that it’s hard for him to sleep past sunrise. From all the way up here, he can see the way that the dew on the grass makes the whole field sway and sparkle like the ocean. He taps his toes against the wall as he sits up and looks out, and hears a knock at his door. A soft rap on the glass. 

- The sounds he hears below say he’s not the only one awake in the house. And still, the sight of you in your extra-large sleeping clothes and your robe makes him surprised. Though the tangled mess of your hair says you’re barely awake. Jimin slept so well that his ears hang nearly in front of his eyes, soft little floppy things that you push out of the way, Pushing back his wild hair as you do it. You have two cups of hot coffee in your hands. One, which you sit on the shelf that rings the room, and the other that you press into his hands, the warm ceramic a welcomed weight.

- Jimin helps you sit, a hand on your lower back to ease the ache. Without really thinking he guides you to sit back against his chest. It’s quiet and it’s lovely. And Jimin trails his nose down your shoulder and holds you loosely around your waist. “I forgot how nice this room is.” You say after your cup is halfway gone, Jimin’s cheek rested against your shoulder.

- “It’s so bright- I love it.” when Jimin closes his eyes he can still see the dark garage where he used to sleep- was it barely 4 months ago? Is he okay now? Is it okay to hope? Can he really count on things to be okay? To count that they won’t get bad again?

- With you in his arms, Jimin feels like it’s okay to hope for more good things.

- It feels like the right time to say it, the light spilling into the little yellow room, his tail thumping against the bed. The soft comforter that you picked out for him last night encircling you both like a halo. 

- The words are gentle, and they’re the truest Jimin’s ever said, “I love you” you smile over the edge of your coffee cup, lips soft and pink like two bright petals, happy little flowers like happy moments blooming with frequency. Every soft thing that Jimin’s ever wanted or dreamed of. Every way you could love a person- that's the way that Jimin loves you. And it feels like an unbreakable promise when you smile up at him. “I love you too Minnie.”

- And that’s how it happens. He says it again over breakfast and Namjoon barely lifts his eyebrows in wonder. But his tail betrays his attention, His tail kicking up a happy rhythm. Now that he’s said it- he feels like he doesn’t want to stop. 

- Yoongi pays the revelation a little more attention, making prolonged eye contact with jimin and stumbling around the kitchen half asleep like usual. But isn’t Yoongi the one who had taught Jimin how to love like this? That love is not really about saying it- but showing it. Yoongi- who he’s still never heard speak. and Somehow it doesn’t bother Jimin as much anymore.

- The next morning goes much like that- as does the next and the next. You spend the late nights all cuddled up together on the couches watching movies or sometimes you’ll retire to your small study room on the first floor to do some work- typing away on your computer. Calculating monthly costs, balancing your budget, submitting your paperwork on time to get funding from the state- the endless budgeting.

- Sometimes Yoongi helps, and you dictate numbers while he adds them up. Namjoon and Jimin sit on opposite ends of the couch, Jimin’s feet in Namjoon’s lap. And Jimin gets to watch the way Namjoon looks at you and Yoongi. “You really love them don’t you?” Jimin asks, worried about sounding jealous, but how could he really be jealous of that? Namjoon’s dimples are the most beautiful thing- Namjoon is the most beautiful thing when he’s happy. He nods shyly on the other edge of the couch. “Yes, so come here.”

- The aborted whine that tones out is enough to grab Yoongi’s attention when Namjoon clutches Jimin to his chest. The snake hybrid’s head appearing over the edge of the couch. The huffing sound that all of you associate with Yoongi’s laugh makes Jimin blush as Namjoon curls a strong arm around his waist. A deep rumbling in his chest similar to a purr as Jimin settles there. He can hear Namjoon’s heartbeat and ends up falling asleep to it.  

- Other evenings you’ll make smoothies with them or root beer floats, teasing Yoongi for the foam on his upper lip. Jimin finds himself sinking into this easy happiness. Now when he wakes up in the morning. He doesn’t have the ire of the others to contend with. Though he makes sure to keep up his friendships. 

- he follows Taehyung around more often now that he sees the four of you every waking moment. Taehyung and Jimin spend a few days together helping Seokjin and Hoseok clean out one of the unused barns together.

- He comes upon the two of them; that is Hoseok and Seokjin, sitting in the grass one day. The older hybrids hand laced in Hoseok’s curly hair. Taehyung murmurs to Jimin that they should just make it official already.

- He’d caught Hoseok sneaking out of the barns to head to Seokjin’s room more than once when he still lived in with the others. Since Seokjin is the only hybrid besides your little group that doesn’t stay in one of the main barns. And there were only so many places that Hoseok could be trying to go at that hour.

- They do make it official - though it takes a few days.

- It was early morning- just after breakfast and the three of you’d been buzzing with happy energy, Namjoon already half of the way out the door. Almost crashing into them where they’d waited unsure on your porch. “oh! Jin hyung! Hobi hyung!”

- Your morning plans for the usual gardening had been put on pause, Seokjin and Hoseok sitting hand in hand at the prep table while your hybrids try not to listen in. Namjoon doesn’t even bother - just stands behind you and rubs your shoulders while you listen. Their hands bound over the top of the table.

- “We’d do all of the work ourselves, and you know I wouldn’t ask you for any money for it- we want to do it on our own” Jin smiles, and you’ve never seen such a gently happy expression on his face. Next to him- the otter sits closer. Looking up at Jin like there isn’t anything more precious than he could hold in his hands. And while their love hadn’t completely escaped your notice- this is still a surprise.

- Seokjin makes a fair amount of money selling his yarns and other knitted goods from the alpacas and the sheep. You’d always been firm that he should keep the money he makes from it for himself and not give it to you to put into the farm. The same way you let the bear hybrids keep the money they make from harvesting the honey. You don’t own them- they’re their own people.

- One of the first things that Seokjin had bought with his money was a cellphone, and he and Hoseok excitedly show you ideas for tiny homes on Pinterest, boards of colorful little new England style cabins, loft beds, and micro-fridges. “We already have one in mind- you know the little cabin by the river?”

- Namjoon pipes up “you mean the old chicken coop? We can build you something nicer- the roof of that one is shot though- you’ll need an extra hand,” you look at their plans, careful doodles, and color swatches, nodding. “we’ll help you, of course, we’ll help you both.”

- And that’s how Seokjin and Hoseok had started work on their home. A separate place away from the rest of the farm for just the two of them to get some privacy. Though it's still on your property; neither of them has any sort of desire to ever leave the farm or each other now that they’ve found their mate.

- The house isn’t more than 200 square feet. And the roof does need a fair bit of work. But it’s not just a chicken coop like Namjoon had said, it’s got nice bones and a good foundation. It’s close enough to the animal barns where Seokjin will still be able to check on the animals every morning, but closer to the river.

- You don’t realize the significance of this until you’re helping them one day, Namjoon, Yoongi making quick work of some loose floorboards and the one wall that needs to be replaced. While Jimin and hoseok watch on- deemed a little too clumsy to help with some of the work. They look for wood-burning stoves on craigslist and other things that they’ll need to make the house complete. 

- Seokjin takes a moment, coming to your side to get some of your offered lemonade, his hair tied back with a bandana. Sipping at it as he looks at Hoseok and Jimin. their feet dangling over the edge of the streambed. “He finds it calming- he can’t sleep without the ocean. That’s how I first noticed him- I caught him sneaking out one night just to listen to the running water.” Seokjin had confessed to you, watching Jimin and hoseok giggle at paint names as they flip through a color swatch book. A far cry away from how they’d once been. 

- This little cabin is certainly close enough, a mere ten feet from the shore of the stream. And with all the windows open you can hear the babbling brook and the sound of the birds in the forest. Before they retire to Seokjin’s room above the stables. Both Hoseok and Seokjin stand in the cabin, taking their shoes off to feel the floor below them and think- this is it- this is our home. Holding each other close while they listen. Even if it will take another few months to get it truly in livable condition- to set the walls with insulation and electricity. This will be their home.

- But first, they cleaned it out. The whole bottom floor filled with dusty jam jars and weird bottles that Seokjin thinks must have been for moonshine. The next day- Jimin finds a few of the glass bottles have made the way into his new room. As Namjoon struggles to put together his new dresser, and Yoongi takes It over after Namjoon lets out his 5th frustrated sigh. They’re cleaned and polished, a small little rainbow of glass, filled with water and flowers that you pick with Jimin. 

- Every morning you bring him coffee in his room. And it slowly progresses from there, sometimes you just leave it and let him sleep. Other mornings. Jimin gets to wake up with you in his arms. Watching him or cuddling him close. He Wakes to a press of lips against his forehead and your hands in his hair. 

- His body always knows before he wakes. He’ll wake to find himself nuzzled close, or pulling you closer with greedy hands. He feels greedy with you now that he can have you every morning, though Namjoon gets the evenings. 

- And when he falls asleep at night his sheets smell like you, like peaches and cream. And then one morning he wakes pressed chest to chest with you. Your baby bump taking up significant space on Jimin’s tiny bed. And without thinking, He tilts his face forward. Kissing you softly and simply. Pulling away, whispering good morning. The pink in your cheeks says you’re shocked, but you pick up like it’s nothing The same way you took his confession.

- Kissing you is nothing like kissing Yoongi- at least not at first. It starts slow- just the simple press of softness against softness, lip to lip, and breath to breath. Until Jimin gets the hot feeling in his mouth and both of you open your lips and start to get a little lost in each other.

- The kind of kiss that makes Jimin want to reach out and hold onto you and never ever let you leave this bed. The kind of kiss that takes both of you apart gently and slowly and so carefully. Has him growing hard in his pants more than once. But you’re both shy- both so scared of pushing this any farther before the timing is right.

- Sometimes, Jimin will wake to you in his bed and Namjoon smiling softly at both of you from the door. “You know- you could always just sleep in our bed.” and Jimin knows that Namjoon might be just the tiniest bit jealous. Jimin has been stealing you away in the mornings after all- and it must be hard for him not to snuggle his mate every goddamn day especially with how soft and needy you smell. It’s so hard to leave the bed some days.

- There are more kisses after that before you go up to bed at night. Yoongi and Namjoon stretched out on the couch, Namjoon prattling on about how inaccurate a movie is while Yoongi indulges him and nods along. You kiss Jimin on the steps, winding your arms around his neck so sweetly, Yoongi wolf whistles and Namjoon chortles, “get a room!”

- But when Jimin looks over Namjoon just winks at him, and keeps talking. Like it’s nothing to kiss you so sweetly and normal to do it in front of them. There are no secrets between the four of you. Maybe there are things that are left unsaid and uncommunicated- but there are no secrets. 

- And that’s how Jimin first starts to fall into you. Easy and simple, like kisses and coffee in the morning. And Jimin loves everyone. Loves you so much sometimes it feels like his heart is going to break with it all.

- Jimin wishes his wanting stopped with the kisses, but it doesn’t, if anything it only grows. An ache in his jaw that wants to bite and consume like that moment with the kisses and Yoongi- he wants to kiss you deeper and deeper but it never ends up going that way. Not even when your bare thighs brush him in the morning and Jimin can tell you’re only wearing underwear underneath the shirt that smells so much like Namjoon.

- Jimin smells you on Namjoon, smells Namjoon on you, and wants and wants and wants. It’s worse on the mornings that you’re a little late coming to Jimin’s bed, and on the ones where you come in smelling undeniably like Yoongi too. And Jimin can’t fathom what it means and isn’t brave enough to ask.

- He asks Taehyung what it could mean- confessing it all in a rush one afternoon while they process some of the honey. Heating up the wax in the kitchen. Tae just laughs at him. “Are you sure they’re not all together? I mean- they are your pack Jiminie and he’s lived there longer than you have.” Yoongi has lived in your home longer. And it stands to reason if you and Namjoon have invited Jimin to your bed, that you might have invited Yoongi too.

- But Jimin doesn’t know for sure until one morning he wakes restless, his bed vacant. He can hear soft steps in your room. But when he peers down the hall, he’s shocked to find Yoongi softly closing the door behind him. His hair looks a little ruffled, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he slinks off to his own bedroom.

- You’re not the only one bed-hopping. And Jimin thinks about what it might mean. Yoongi hasn’t come to Jimin’s room. And he thinks back to the way Yoongi kissed him like it was the best and the worst, the sweetest but most forbidden thing. Maybe he’s just too nervous.

- Yoongi stays up late with Jimin, and they can both hear and smell the arousal that shoots down the stairs from both of you. Jimin has smelt it more than once by now, on you or on the air that bacons them- as members of the same pack to the same place. Jimin wonders how Yoongi handles it. Because it has Jimin growing half hard in his pajama pants, shifting on the couch needy. Yoongi’s too from the looks of it- but the snake never makes a move. Your moans echo from upstairs, their sensitive hybrid ears can hear every word that you share. And Jimin can almost taste you on the air.

- Namjoon’s gentle teasing growl is faint as is his words, “do you want them to hear you, my love? is that why you’re being so loud?- or is this” Namjoon pauses, and a wet sound fills the silence, “just too much for you?” 

- At night, when you’re not there, Jimin bites the pillow and lets his own hands wander. Feels guilty and not guilty at all when you end up in bed with him the next morning, and he licks at the hickeys on your neck left there by Namjoon’s mouth, tasting his alpha on your skin and on your lips. 

- Jimin goes to bed one evening alone, and lies listless for a moment before he realizes how much he wants to fall asleep next to you too- Namjoon too. How many times had Namjoon invited Jimin to stay in your room? How many times had he woken up to you by now? He knows the other room isn’t off limits and right now. His body shivers with need, for touches and touches, any that you’d give him. He tells himself he’s just looking for a goodnight kiss as he gets up and walks to your door, the house quiet so late in the evening.

- It shouldn’t feel so tremulous when Jimin walks to your room, to see the warm yellow light leaking through the door. Already cracked and open a few inches letting the noise of you and Namjoon spill out. The giggles he can hear, your voice, sounding the way you do when you smile. And then, a bitten-off moan.

- Jimin can’t stop himself from looking through the crack in the door- even though he knows it’s a private moment, that he really shouldn’t. You’re sitting in-between Namjoon’s legs on the edge of the bed. Jimin’s alphas mouth is firmly attached to your neck, licking and biting and sucking in a way that has Jimin riveted.

- But what really grabs his better judgment by the balls is the way that he can see the silhouette of your body through the large white shirt of Namjoon’s. The shirt so thin and well worn that jimin can see the shadow of your nipples and the hard outline that Namjoon’s hands smooth over, teasing them to a stiff peak. it has Jimin’s mouth-watering. Namjoon’s deep voice crooning as his hands pull at the hem over your baby bump, “let me see you, darling.”

- You’d complained to Jimin the other day that this far into your pregnancy none of your clothes were fitting comfortably anymore, and he can see the supple swell of your stomach and the generous curves of your body. Jimin can’t help but drink in, and stare at hungrily, swallowing thickly. A low whine of want building in his throat.

- He knows it’s wrong to be jealous, but he can’t help it. The feeling growing in his gut as he watches Namjoon pull you back to bed despite your protests. Namjoon looks deliciously good too; miles of his golden skin on display, his rippling thigh muscles exposed. Hair sleep or sex ruffled (Jimin can’t tell the difference)

- “Love I have to pee” you whine, Namjoon’s arms still ensnare your waist and he answers only with a playful growl as he hides his head in your shoulder. His hands roaming those curves like Jimin dreams of doing, Namjoon’s tail thudding against the plush comforter.

- You sigh, your head tilted up, one of your arms back behind you to tug at Namjoon’s hair, swollen pink lips parting in a sigh. He shouldn’t be watching this- this isn’t meant for him to see, this is intimate. He backs up and immediately hits a warm wide chest. “Yoongi!” Jimin squeaks, conscious enough to be quiet, his cheeks flaming as he’s caught.

- The snake hybrid raises an eyebrow in question. Yoongi looks ruffled, his hair messy from sleep. And it seems Jimin isn’t the only one who had plans on sneaking into your room so late at night. Yoongi’s cheeks are pink in the half-light.

- Yoongi leans in, nose so close to Jimin’s throat- where his scent is the strongest and Jimin almost flinches when he realizes how strung out and aroused he smells. Yoongi’s rippling growl makes Jimin’s legs week. 

- You’ve suddenly fallen silent in the other room; exchanging soft words that Jimin can’t hear. “I was just going to…” Jimin searches for a reason, to remember why he was here in the first place. His cheeks absolutely flaming, but before he can find a good reason to why he’s listening in and being quite the voyeur Namjoon speaks up from inside your bedroom. 

- “Jimin, Yoongi” not a question, but a command. Yoongi reaches around Jimin to push the door fully open so that both of you can see the two of them. “You can come in,” you say.

- Jimin has never been redder than he has been right now. Seeing you and Namjoon in your bed, obviously, about to- Jimin gulps audibly. “You don’t have to watch from the hallway” Namjoon teases. “You can watch from in here” Jimin is actually going to pass out, and you sense this, smacking Namjoon lightly on the arm. “Don’t tease him Joonie.”

- “Is it really okay if I-“ Jimin feels tongue-tied, his mind hazy with the smell of both of you, the pheromones that his sensitive nose can pick up on the smell of your slick, and Jimin’s mouth is suddenly so so wet. “I don’t want-“ Jimin breaks off; trying to keep his gaze averted, but can’t resist peeking. “I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”

- Jimin sees out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon’s hands rubbing up and down your waist, and he wants to look, wants to see- but can’t. Keeps his eyes averted. “You don’t Jiminie- I” you break off when Namjoon’s hand travels further south. Your other puppy has absolutely no problem trying to distract you. Jimin can’t see exactly what Namjoon’s hands are doing but your chest jumps. And he realizes he’s staring again. 

-“If you’re going to look- you might as well help me take care of her too” Jimin has never heard Namjoon’s voice sound so guttural, and a look at Yoongi reveals his pink cheeks too. “unless you just want to watch like Yoongi does, that's fine too” 

- Jimin sends yoongi an accusatory glance, and the snake hybrid just shrugs at him. leveling him with a dedicatory look. well, Minnie- which are you going to choose?

- “I want- I want” jimin cant get the words out. He knows he doesn't want to leave. but is it really okay if he- is he really allowed to touch you? to make you smell like him the way that Namjoon does? Claiming you in that way. “jiminie- you can- I want you too-” your words are so quiet, face so warm. And it makes Jimin whine- looking to Namjoon for guidance. Imploring him to make the choice- to take the hint because Jimin just needs a little push. And from the looks of it so do you. 

- “You’re both obviously too shy to get it done- so let me take the reigns okay?” Namjoon counters to the silence. Yoongi is still standing behind Jimin, a step closer than should be necessary, and you give them both a shy, wide-eyed look. Like you’re checking to see that this wants it too. Jimin nods, short, jerky, unable to tear his eyes away from your face to see Namjoon’s expression until the elder shifts.

- Yoongi crosses to the other side of the room where a green velvet chair sits, stretching out and making himself comfortable. Whereas Jimin and Namjoon are always a little too soft looking to be threatening. Yoongi eyes the three of you like he’s some sort of predator. Tongue flicking out to lick at his lip. Like he can taste what Jimin can smell- the four of you- the smells of your arousals mixing together. Something satisfying and musky and undeniably pack that makes Yoongi's every instinct sing.

- Jimin has always appreciated Namjoon’s body, the strength there. In many ways he’s the stereotypical alpha; the strength in his arms and in his chest, his collarbones strong and chiseled, but he’s anything but cocky. There is someone so genuine about how unconcerned Namjoon is with his own body, and jimin can’t help but find his confidence attractive. 

- Namjoon lounges back against his hands, And the way he watches Jimin watch both of you lets Jimin know that it’s okay to look his fill. Yoongi too, the low rippling growl he lets out fills the room, makes you feel hot all over as his eyes roam you, Namjoon, and Jimin- the pretty picture you both paint.

- You sit between Namjoon’s legs, his hands on either side of your inner thigh parting your legs gently to show your wetness to Jimin. You make an aborted noise as you realize what he’s doing. All of you swollen and bear for him and nothing to cover you but Namjoon’s shirt and that just barely hiding the tone of your skin behind the creamy white fabric. You’re not wearing any underwear.

- Your pink core trembles a little, your hand gripping Namjoon’s forearm as he grins, drunk on the feel of you in his hands as he squeezed your thighs. Namjoon goes a step further Reaching down to glide a thumb across your wetness. Making you jerk in his hold as he hits the little sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your cunt, glistening wet and ready. 

- “Can you believe it?” he says, his voice a blown-out growl. “So full and still ready for us?” beside Jimin, Yoongi’s pupils are blown, his body jerking as he shifts in his chair, hips on the edge.

- You’re wet and dripping. Your face is hot as you look at him, standing there in the middle of the room, fully clothed while you and Namjoon are intimately bare. Jimin can’t tear his eyes away from you. You smell so ripe and for the taking.

- “You can come closer- you can touch Minnie, it’s okay,” Namjoon says it that way, but his eyes are on Yoongi, gliding down his hips to the bulge in his pants. Namjoon knows he won’t come closer- even if he really wants yoongi too. And Jimin sees that pain him- just for a moment before he puts his chin out in his direction. It’s okay- anything that Yoongi wants, whatever level he feels he can partake in this- it’s okay. Jimin wonders how Yoongi can handle it and hold himself back; how he can handle the dizzying rush of pheromones and not come closer.

- Yoongi settles, his eyes hazy and his legs spread to make room for his hands that touch with purpose. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- at him, his hands slowly smoothing up and over the bulge in his pants or at you. The way you drink in every line of Yoongi, stretched out in his tight pants. A simple hand at your throat, Namjoon rolling his fingers down from your chin to your collarbones. “Let's put on a show for him yeah? Is that what you want Yoongi?”

- Yoongi’s tongue is pink as it swipes across his lips, he nods. In a moment, Jimin feels a little unsure, but that instantly dissipates as Namjoon gestures for him to come forward.

- He’s never been touched or touched another in this way- not with love anyway. All of the small touches you’ve given him, hands on your shoulders the small of your back, felt nothing like this. His fingers reaching out, rounding on the edge of your knee experimentally. Waiting to see your reaction to make sure what he’s doing is okay. Namjoon’s tail starts up it’s wagging behind you. his hands shake with too warm palm smoothing over skin he’s never seen let alone been allowed to touch. He looks at you and feels positively ravenous, licking his lips.

- Namjoon trails a kiss down your neck and Jimin can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to sink into the skin there too. In a moment- he’s not sure if he’d rather be you being bitten or be Namjoon biting you on the neck. You probably don’t get the significance of it quite yet but Jimin- Jimin wants to be on the receiving end of that mark. To bear the mark of an alpha means to be under their protection.

- He wants all of it- all of your sweet looking soft and supple swells. Your body that’s accommodated the life within you so well and deserves a little appreciation. Anything, everything, Jimin and Namjoon will gladly provide. And Yoongi will be content to look. Not ready quite yet to be apart of this the way Jimin is. But it makes you feel hot all over, his piercing eyes on every movement. Barely even blinking.

- Jimin doesn’t know how to be the same sultry tempter that Namjoon is- but at the very least he can follow his lead. Jimin hasn’t had many sultry kisses- the ones you’d shared in your bedroom done with less intent, but he hopes that these can be just as satisfying. He leans in close to you, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to steady himself as he leans down. 

- The kiss is a gentle thing that Jimin knows won’t hurt. You’d never hurt him- because you’re like him. His softness and sweetness is just like yours. Both shy and honest- the genuine passion that overflows too easy. Like a hurricane filling a teacup.

- You know to go slow, and Jimin lets Namjoon- his alpha, (a whole rush goes down his spine at the idea of it) take the reigns. Feeling a comforting protective feeling wash over him as your lips play together. You suck on one of his lower lips, plush and soft between yours, and hasten a soft bite that has Jimin gasping, jerking forward to rest both hands of his on your upper thighs. Namjoon lets them go- lets you settle in between both of them.

 - He pulls away with a start. “I want both of you- please just- please- let me” you’re already pulling at the edge of his shirt. You’d seen his softness here and there too, but now, having him underneath the palm of your hands feels even better. Jimin has gained weight since he got to the farm yes- but he’s also put on more muscle than anything else, enough protein and hard work has left him soft but with clean edges, lines on his hips that point invitingly south. Dimples that you sink your fingers into.

- You hover there, skimming your hands along them, Namjoon reaching out from behind you to press a flat hand to Jimin’s pelvis, his flannel pajama pants still on, but still, even you can feel the way his abdominal muscles clench at the slightest touch. Even as you tug, give a pleading little whine, Jimin is so so weak to all of you. Jimin takes off his pants so quickly that he almost trips and falls into you, and a quiet chuckles and quick look says that Namjoon is equally as endeared by Jimin’s eagerness as you are. Even Yoongi is grinning.

- Yoongi makes a noise too and all of you look over, he’s got his pants pulled down his hips too, hands slowly teasing at the head of his cock hidden by his boxers. A wet spot there that makes jimin lick his lips. One-day Jimin will earn Yoongi’s trust enough to get his mouth on that length. Yoongi juts his chin out- an invitation to continue.

- Jimin wonders how often you’ve done this before with Yoongi- if this is only the second or third time. The question hovers on the tip of his tongue, struck out of his mind when you put your hands on him and touch him properly. Behind you Namjoon shifts, finally showing that he’s bare too- not even wearing underwear.

- A first look says yes, Namjoon is a little longer than Jimin is. But he’s far thicker than Namjoon and that small blessing in itself has a whole new kind of heat thinning in his gut. Especially when Namjoon stands and measures, going hip to hip with Jimin so that the head of his cock touches Jimin’s stomach. The older hybrid reaching out to skim his large hand over his head. Jimin’s already wet and sensitive gasping at how Namjoon’s hands- so big, fail to cover all of him.

- “I really shouldn’t call you puppy” he hastens with a chuckle, tugging at jimin’s erection, and Jimin can’t help but whine and pant. Namjoon’s mouth skims down and over Jimin’s shoulder, the contact lighting sparks under his skin with how sensitive he feels, and yet- it's still not where he wants it, Jimin feels vacant his mouth unclaimed until you stand too.

- This time you tug Jimin down with a hand in his hair, running your fingers over his ears the same moment that Namjoon bites down on his neck and pulls, teasing over the head of his cock. and it’s too much- too much so soon- making Jimin go soft and pliant as Namjoon sucks jimin’s skin between his teeth. Jimin doesn't know why the edge of a high rises so quickly only that it does and leaves his knees weak- almost giving out at the weight of all the pleasure. 

- To Jimin’s credit- he only cums a little- maybe not a full orgasm from just that. The shame and humiliation of Cumming so early makes him want to hide his face in you and hide he does. Especially when Namjoon lifts his hand up to look at Jimin’s release, chuckles, and licks it.

- He collapses into your front, breathing heavily already. The waves of your sweet arousal washing over him, his nose feels so sensitive he wants to bury it in your heat and breathe in deep, his whole body feels sensitive as Namjoon- now behind Jimin, smoothed his hands up and down his sides, somehow knowing he was a little too overwhelmed by so much so quick.

- He hopes that’s not weird- he has a feeling he’s just a little too touch starved not to get wound up. He doesn’t want this to be over that fast, wants to savor every moment. “I’m sorry,” he squeaks out, but you and Namjoon are quick to soothe him.

- “It’s nothing to be ashamed about Minnie baby, you’re just a little sensitive” Jimin loves that- that nickname falling from your mouth as your touches get slower. more sensual and loving so they don’t overwhelm him so fast. He can tell you and Namjoon and maybe Yoongi are sharing a glance, communicating silently about Jimin- but it doesn’t make him feel annoyed. It just makes him feel cared for. 

- Jimin knows he could go again, isn’t finished, he’s still rock hard, cock bobbing and twitching against his stomach. He just needs a moment to calm down. 

- You guide him to sit back up against the bed and he lies, half in your lap and half to the side. Shifting closer to you with his nose pressed to your neck, licking and sucking to his heart's content. Leaving his bruises right next to Namjoon’s. 

- You’re used to the way that Namjoon gets after an orgasm, his more animal instincts closer to the surface. Sometimes he even fails to speak with words, instead favoring whines and growls. It doesn't surprise you at all that Jimin would fall into a similar headspace the second he got overwhelmed. He laps at your skin, tail thumping as his ears twitch. His nose drawing small circles. The instincts in him pulling him lower as Namjoon rubs up and down his back soothingly.

- Jimin doesn’t realize where he’s ended up until your soft laugh and Namjoon’s chuckle join in tandem. “I take it back- you’re a puppy.” Jimin goes absolutely bright red as he opens his eyes and realizes that he’s been nosing at your breasts, the origin for your milky sweet scent.

- “Can I- have a taste?” he asks. And you turn hot for a whole different reason. you push him off a little, and Jimin wants to whine before he realizes that you’re finally taking off your shirt. and /oh/ you’re so soft looking. Your chest ample and swollen- you look absolutely perfect.

- “Sure but- uhm- I’m- just don’t be surprised if I-” you’re stuttering and shy and Namjoon just leans over, pulling lightly at your sensitive nipples so that Jimin can see for himself. He really is good at making sure you guys don’t get too shy to continue, he’s a good alpha.

- At the sight of a small bead of milk tugged forward by Namjoon’s hand Jimin growls, He tugs a little more and a single droplet travels down your sternum. You exhale as you feel the full heavy feeling that your breasts have taken on these past few weeks starts to ease a little.

- Jimin notices your discomfort the way you shift and doesn’t think- his instincts taking over before he leans forward and hastens a lick. taking the droplet from your skin into his mouth and licking up- so that he doesn't waste a drop. his plush lips melt around your nipple and he closes his eyes- savoring it. It only takes a small suck for your milk to really come in, and you shift instantly under Jimin's hands, throwing your head back with a sigh as the ache eases. Jimin growls and pulls you forward by a hand underneath your back, jostling you in his eagerness.

- You taste so sweet, the fatty liquid sliding down his throat as he suckles eagerly. Namjoon buries his fingers into your hair, pulling you up to kiss him but Jimin isn’t paying attention- can’t concentrate on anything other than the smooth taste of you sliding over his tongue as he sucks and sucks and sucks. the taste of you- the cream to your peaches and cream scent sliding like ambrosia over his tongue. 

- Jimin may not be talkative- brought down to his lower basic instincts- but he does make noise. His tail wagging behind him Hitting Namjoon’s, a whine mixing with a growl. Eyes rolling back into his head- he can’t help it you just taste so fucking good. 

- You can’t concentrate on Namjoon’s kiss either; your mouth open and a little sloppy, Namjoon levels you with a hot look. “What do you say lovely? Does she taste as good as she smells?” Jimin is so drunk on you that he barely even hears Namjoon. His teeth nip a little, you hissing a little.

- Namjoon tugs on Jimin’s hair and the other hybrid growls. It’s a Feral and angry sound- anything that would take him away from your sweet taste would have jimin angry. It’s so unexpected- that he would be so possessive- that Namjoon actually laughs. 

- You do too, though it’s quickly interrupted by a moan when Jimin pauses his sucking to lave a lick against your nipple. Namjoon holds him too far away for him to properly suck. “Gentle puppy” Jimin’s hands grip underneath your breasts, possessively clinging to you. whining at Namjoon. begging his alpha to let him go back. Namjoon lets Jimin tug his own hair before he guides his head back to you. 

- Namjoon keeps your eye contact until the second he lowers to suck too. Having both of them at the same time overwhelms you. Especially when you look past their heads and see Yoongi licking his lips too. Stroking his red cock slowly and carefully. The head is already red, and you can tell from the way he pulls off that he’d edging himself. Hips shaking every time he senses his touches. And you wonder if he wants to cum with you. His throat bobbing every time his tongue darts out.

- Having both their mouths on you makes you keen. And when Namjoon guides Jimin’s hand to your cunt you lose it- moaning, panting their names and gripping at their heads, pulling their hair. Jimin’s hands are sloppy as they grip and touch. Hungrily exploring your thighs. Namjoon’s a little more guided, paying special attention to your entrance. When he realizes Jimin’s gotten distracted feeling up your thighs and ass he guides Jimin so finger you, smooth fingertips rubbing at your walls in time with his sucks, while Namjoon rubs smooth circles against your clit.

 - You time the rolls of your hips with Yoongi’s as he shallowly fucks his hand.

- You cum like that, both their hands on you, and Yoongi’s growl, Namjoon’s head snap up. “You can cum Yoongi” Namjoon commands, with a fucked out chuckle. Your milk caught in one of his dimples. Yoongi’s hands are tight around the knot at the base of his cock, cum dripping down around his wrist, his head thrown back. Lazily spread out, his limbs turned to jelly.

- To Yoongi- it doesn't feel awkward to have cum so soon. If anything the sheer intimacy of it all- knowing that he can be vulnerable and fucked out in front of both of you- makes him feel even hazier. And just because he’s cum- doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the sight of you three all tangled together.

- Jimin’s hardness pokes at your thigh as he straddles it. Rocking against you in time with his sucks. hands returning to their appreciation of your thighs once you’ve cum, head a little clearer. Namjoon is equally as hard and waiting. Namjoon groans as one of your hands finds his cock. 

- You’re used to the way he likes it by now, concentrating your attention on his head. Your other less dominant hand still makes Jimin jerk. Fucking into the tight circle of your hand that can’t fit around the entirety of his cock but is more than enough to tease his head until he’s throbbing.

- Jimin gives one last bite as your milk peters off; no more left and your other breast rightfully as drained, pulling away and licking at his lips. He’s so high on the taste of you, the smell of you, all of you that he barely realizes he’s grinding against your thigh or into your hand. Namjoon stills your hand against him when he gets close. Your thighs shake as Namjoon guides both of you to sit back; pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jimin’s, and then your tummy.

- “Why don’t you watch and see how it’s done puppy” Jimin gets off, sitting on his knees to the side and resists the urge to touch. Namjoon gives him a look and you look up from where you lie against the bed, grinning at him. but he’s obedient, doesn't touch, and just watches to learn. 

- “Would you cum again if I called you good b-” Jimin flushes, scrambling to get a hand over your mouth and stop you from finishing that sentence as his cock twitches and dribbles pre-cum onto the blanket. Face flaming as you laugh against his palm. “Yes- so please don’t I just want to-” Jimin whines. the humiliation making him hornier somehow. Yoongi’s rueful grin and Namjoon's expectant expression that says Jimin is just the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

- It’s somewhat of an honesty thing too- because you know Jimin- you know him so well enough to tease him and have it not be awkward but arousing- knowing just the right words to say to get him riled up. To prove to you that he can be good- can learn how to fuck you well without cumming (again) “why don’t you help me hold her Minnie.”  

- Namjoon’s smirk is happy and a little fucked out as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed by your ankles, your laughter turning into a giggle. Knowing how Namjoon loves to man handle you. And you’d be lying if his strength- the fact that he can still lift you without issue even this far into your pregnancy wasn’t a little bit of a turn on. 

- Namjoon gently manhandles you into the position he wants, you stretched out against the sheets, your nipples all puffy and pink from the way Namjoon and jimin mercilessly handled you earlier. A bruise forming where Jimin was a little rough, half-circles from his mouth. 

- Namjoon guides you to hold your hands above your head, guiding your wrists into Jimin’s to hold you there, his hands lacing with yours, bending down to kiss you. You gasp into Jimin’s mouth at the first push of Namjoon into your dripping cunt. The push and pull of his hips. It’s as erotic as it is sweet, Jimin presses his hips to the bed to relieve some of the aches but does not rut forward. And a look from Namjoon tells him to be careful- he’ll allow that- but the next time Jimin cums Namjoon wants it to be by his command.

- “You see Minnie- she’s not the biggest fan of a rough fuck- we’ve got to be gentle with her see, but as long as you make them deep and long she likes it” Namjoon shows Jimin and below Them, you moan. Lacing your fingers with Jimin's. 

- There is a certain unspoken dominance between Namjoon and the other hybrids. You too- though that has less to do with scent and the instinctual pull that you feel to be good for him. Jimin can’t get a good handle on why exactly he wants to do everything the elder says only that the idea of Namjoon being upset with him right now sends a jolt of fear all the way to the end of his tail.

- When Namjoon cums it’s with a low groan, and you squirting weakly around his cock. Your thighs are shaking and Namjoon leans close to kiss you through you high, then leans up to kiss Jimin too in reward for being patient. 

- You’re panting, body humming with pleasure as you feel namjoon’s knot press just outside your entrance, bulging so much that his rocking rubs against your clit. Namjoon is careful to fist his knot in his hand, meant to lock him and his partner in place to ensure a pregnancy would take place. If you were a hybrid you would be keening for his knot, probably crying for it. But as it is you’re a little glad he didn’t decide to stretch you out on it today. 

- You’re sure that the next time you cum your eyes are going to roll back. And you might pass out. It’s happened before. The first night you and Namjoon ever let Yoongi watch you. Namjoon had so thoroughly put you through your paces that you’d collapsed, and come to with two very panicked hybrids standing over you.

- Especially because it would have taken several long minutes to go down and Jimin is hard and aching for you. Namjoon is a good and patient alpha; he’ll let Jimin knot you tonight. Namjoon gives his knot one final squeeze before he gestures for Jimin. He lets go of your hands unwillingly, joining Namjoon at the edge of the bed.

- Namjoon pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, the movement so sudden that it makes you giggle. You’re a little fucked out, but it only makes your hybrids endeared. You close your eyes as Namjoon manhandles you into place, sighing out a “fuck” as he sees you below him. god- Namjoon loves you so much and you can feel it in every touch. 

- He hitches your legs up and asks you to hold them, hands gripping underneath your knees. Keeping you bare for all of them. Jimin’s mouth waters when he sees your wet and messy cunt, a little bit of Namjoon’s cum dripping out of your entrance.

- Fuck just getting his mouth on Yoongi; Jimin wants to get his mouth on all of you. Huh- maybe he has some sort of oral fixation. Jimin is so caught up in imagining it he barely processes Namjoon stepping away, tugging jimin in close and positioning himself behind the other dog hybrid, Namjoon’s knot and wet cock presses up against Jimin’s ass as Namjoon uses his hands to guide jimin into your heat. 

- Jimin is so thick. So big compared to your entrance, the stretch doesn't burn after Namjoon but you do feel full- so deliciously full that it makes you gasp and grip jimin's shoulder, letting your leg fall against his hip. 

-  You're so wet and warm; Jimin has to slow down immediately. whining loud in the quiet room. “Alpha- I can’t-” namjoon's hand forms a vice around the base of his cock, keeping him from cumming. “You can- and you will Jimin” Weather it’s your wetness or Namjoon’s cum that makes the slide inside of you so slick. He can only thrust forward so far before his stomach makes contact with your baby bump, and the slide, the simple push of your hips against his makes him feel tingly all over.

- “Fuck you feel so good,” Jimin pants out, and you smile, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face and over his ears, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down to his tail. Maybe it’s because he’s been wound up so much, or because you’re still tightening with the last thrum of your orgasm that makes Jimin come so easily. 

- He’s only been trusting inside of you for a few minutes before he feels his knot start to swell, pulsating against namjoons fingers and ready to spill inside. namjoon lets him go and Jimin can barely keep himself from getting rough with you. though he won’t- would never dream of hurting you. It feels nice to be filled by him, and you feel yourself brought to the edge again by his gentleness- he doesn’t have to thrust quickly for it to feel good- just being this close- as close as you two can get to each other is enough.  

- It’s not Jimin’s first time having sex. But for all intents and purposes. You’re the only ones it matters for. He sends a panicked look in Namjoon’s direction, unsure if he’ll be able to hold off. His hands shaking where they sit, entwined with yours. Body crouched as close as he can to you. Through the entirety of it- Namjoon has been stroking up and down his back, and he grips his hips now- guiding him through each thrust to make them less sloppy.  “Alpha- alpha please-“  

- “You can cum Jimin, make sure you knot her.” At his alphas command Jimin cums with a shout. Namjoon pressed to his back and Yoongi hissing over his shoulder. Watching every thrust with baited breath. namjoon pushes jimin’s hips inside at just the right moment and you twitch as he knots you. feeling him swell inside you more than should be possible entrance pulsating in time with his twitches. jimin cumming into you with squirts and squirts of warmth as you milk his knot.

- You squirt weakly- and it drips down around his cock and makes it even wetter if that’s even possible, no doubt leaving a puddle against your bed. you hold jimin close and he wants to collapse against you but doesn't because of namjoon holding him around the middle, guiding you to safely sit to the side, giving your little baby bump a little loving rub. “Gotta keep the bun safe minnie” namjoon chides. “Sorry hyung just- so good” Jimin slurs. eyes still rolling back in his head as he just keeps Cumming. 

- “Can I call you good boy now?” you tease, and jimin whines again predictably as both namjoon and yoongi nodd. Jimin’s knot does not stay inflated as long as namjoon’s does. starting to shrink after a few minutes once he stops cumming really. though the occasional spasm of your walls around him has him tensing again. 

- When its gone down fully he makes to pull out but namjoon catches his hips again, and tells him to wait. A shiver goes down his spine as yoongi walks over to watch. your leg flopping to the side, open so that he can see, though you grumble and cover your flaming face. it might be a little embarrassing- but it’s also really fucking hot- the way they like to see how much they’ve wrecked you- claimed you in a way they only could.  

- jimin doesn't understand until he sees namjoon and yoongi’s ravenous expressions, the way they lick their lips. it’s only then that namjoon carefully guides jimin to pull out. 

- the rush of cum is immediate, forced out of your entrance by your lingering orgasam makeing you clench and force their cum out of you. there's so much of it, dripping down your thigh thick and viscous and so so messy. 

- jimin is so overwhelmed, as his cock keeps dripping. he flops back onto the bed after a second, close enough to you to be wrapped in your arms, both of you huffing with labored breathes, Namjoon gripping hard around his waist and guiding him into the comfort of the bed and your arms. Hands splayed wide on Jimin’s trembling stomach. Pinching at Jimin’s knot for a moment. And the whole room spins.  

- Jimin is so pretty when he arches his back to try and get away from the over stimulation, especially when your hand joints namjoons and you both squeeze- head thrown back in ecstasy, his plush lips parted with his pants. “Stop fuck- too much” your hands are off of him the second he says it. Jimin’s eyes are closed, as you lean in and kiss at his neck. “Sorry puppy” he hears the older alpha chime- Jimin whines, his whole body turned to jelly.

- You’re barely sighing and settling back into the sheets, head tilted to get a sloppy fucked out kiss from Namjoon. Yoongi lingers. And you look up at him expectantly. His cock is still hard and curving against his stomach.Somewhere between jimin and Namjoon in thickness and length but ribbed with veins that stick out like the ones on the back of his hands.

- You think he’s going to mount you too (your deepest darkest fantasy’s hope that he might. You have to admit that you like the idea of one of them going one after another, Cumming in you, making you feel full and well fucked. You’re certain that one day- if they still want this- if they want to keep doing this with you. You’ll have that, each of them knotting you and filling you up- breeding you and making sure they knock you up again. human hybrid pregnancies are so rare they’re practically non-existent, but you know if there where any that would manage it it would be these three.)

- jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull when he smells yoongi closer, nostrils flaring, “gotta help us breed our omega yoongi” he slurs. clutching posessively at you. The words so unexpected but so right. Namjoon can’t take his eyes off Yoongi. While in his arms. jimin tries not to dose- thoroughly spent. 

- It’s the kind of language that Namjoon’s used with you before- calling you their omega- though you’re human you know what it means. To be theirs, taken care of and knocked up and fucked out. You and Namjoon- for the amount you bicker like an old married couple. Also communicate a lot,

- Though talk of your fantasies has mostly been pillow talk. Both of you spoke of wanting this before it happened and of your feelings for the others too. Namjoon had squealed almost as much as you had when you’d told him of jimin’s confession.

- You’d done your best to learn all you could about hybrids. So it never struck you as strange when Namjoon had come to you and confessed that Yoongi would one day be apart of his pack. Namjoon’s alpha instincts choosing Yoongi- spreading protectively over the snake hybrid. Namjoon hadn’t had much control over who was accepted into his pack- much in the same way that you have never have control over who you fall in love with.

- And maybe it was through you- that Namjoon and Yoongi eventually found a way to connect beyond the touches. Because Yoongi looks at the utter mess of your entrance, splattered with jimin and Namjoon cum and growls. His hands barely brushing your skin as he guides you to spread your legs and bare yourself to him. You dont understand what obsession they have with looking at your cunt- but there has to be something. 

- Namjoon ever insatiable even snakes his hand around to spread you out for Yoongi. Teasing at your outer lips before his thumb presses against your clit- making your legs tremble. His touches so slow and firm, enough to make you absolutely desperate for another orgasm.

- Yoongi won’t touch you, he won’t make you cum- you know that enough by now because as much as Yoongi loves the intimacy you have it’s still too much for him. But one of his fangs hangs out over his lip when Namjoon starts to finger you. Rubbing their cum into your clit. And like you could read his mind, Yoongi starts up his stroking above you. 

- He never breaks eye contact with you. Beside you, Jimin shifts to watch. His sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. “I’m not going to stop until you’re squirting,” 

- “Why do you always want to- ah- make me messy?” you tease Namjoon- bickering with him even now. “Who knows maybe dirt is just my kink.” 

- Jimin snorts, “You hate gardening Namjoon-“ you laugh, but you’re also squirming in overstimulation, as Namjoon’s thumb teases and teases until you’re trembling, and you want to gasp say that you can’t possibly cum again- but a look over your shoulder tells you that Namjoon knows you can. Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours when you look back, and you see the sweat on his temple, Namjoon’s hand speeding up when his does.

- Cumming after a few minutes with a gush that makes your cheeks flame. Hips jerking up and off the bed as you squirt- pussy clenching so hard that it forces their cum out to drip. Timed with you again- the intimacy of it all- of Cumming together, Yoongi’s cum spurting all over your stomach before he directs it to your clit. Mixing with the other hybrids cum. 

- You’re thoroughly spent, legs falling open with no shame to hide you from the painful friction that would surely arise if anything touched your clit right now. Reaching out for arms that gladly take you. Ready to have them close.

- Jimin sits up, brain finally a little clearer as the pheromones in the room start to dissipate, leaning forward to hasten a lick Over your entrance tasting all of you intermingled makes his tail wag. But you’re a little too sensitive even for that- and you pull Jimin away before he can give a second lick, and he curls up close to you in the next second, face buried in your shoulder. 

- He’s just as fucked out at you are, wrung out and hung to dry by all of this intimacy and pleasure making his body feel satisfied and settled. Unwilling to move from this bed. speaking only through whines and grumbles. Practically non verbal- and brought low into his hybrid headspace. Jimin and Namjoon don’t mind the mess on you. To them- it just smells like pack and home.

- He’s dimly aware of Yoongi going to the bathroom to get a rag for you- because as much as you love the feeling of all of their cum filling you up you really don’t want to have to change your sheets and luckily for you- most of the mess of your lovemaking has been well contained On you skin and your well placed blanket that can easily be exchanged for a fresh one.

- Namjoon softly turns jimin over onto his stomach, Jimin’s red cock pressed uncomfortably to the bed as they wipe down the release on Jimin’s back too. (Had Namjoon cum there? rutting in-between Jimin’s ass cheeks as he’d been inside you? and had Jimin been too lost in the throws of his passion to realize?)

- “I love you Yoongi, thank you for letting us do this, thank you for being apart of this.” he hears you say, and it makes Jimin’s tail wag.

- He stays awake long enough to hear Namjoon switch the fan on and to feel Namjoon swallow both you and Jimin in his arms. He hears them quietly conversing. “Are you sure you don’t want to come closer?” Yoongi must indicate one way or another. Because Namjoon quietly settles. 

- The bed shifts, and he gathers Yoongi must have curled up several inches to the left of him. jimin squirms- wishing he’d come closer. but then he feels the slow trail of Yoongi’s fingers just along his spine and smiles into your hair.

- He wants to reach out, to pull him closer- but Jimin won’t know that touch is so tenuous for him. He knows him not partaking tonight isn’t anything to do with not loving you three. Jimin will respect Yoongi’s boundaries for as long as it takes for Yoongi to not feel a bit of the aching hesitation he suffers through when it comes to loving his pack. His eyes closed, he feels fingers trail along the edge of his hairline, ears flicking and nose twitching, Jimin lets out a happy little puppy grumble.

- “Love you” he finds himself whispering against your hair, “love you all so much” his words are slurry and not all there. And he’s rewarded with Namjoon muttering it back, reaching out to run a hand gently along his cheeks. A large hand knots in his hair, not rubbing through and just gripping, and jimin knows its Yoongi hand.

- Yoongi stays awake that night until all of you are asleep, wishing that for once- he felt the pull of Namjoon’s alphaness the same way Jimin did. The younger certainly seemed hazy; all of the tension in his body giving way with Namjoon’s will exert itself over him. But he’s content to see them the way they are now, all soft and vulnerable. Namjoon and Yoongi bookending the both of you curled together in the middle. So peaceful. Yoongi hopes he can make the two of you feel as safe as Namjoon makes you feel.

- Yoongi reaches out to touch your face, thumb drifting a hair's breadth from your lips, he knows he could never hurt you- never even dream of it. His mistress- owner- this mission was doomed from the start. He was yours- for all intents and purposes of the words. Yoongi didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Other than your bed at that moment. 

- And when he closes his eyes He imagines all the ways that he would touch you if he could. How he would have touched you tonight if he’d just allowed himself too. Maybe in the future- maybe in a few days when he gets used to this togetherness he’ll get to be close to you in the way he so desperately wants. Tonight was so nice, and with you smelling like all three of them. Yoongi feels like he’s apart of this- in a way that he hasn’t felt before. 

- it’s not only touches he wants- it’s the love you share too. All of the words he would whisper low in your ears where he able. He’d find out your favorite foods and cook them every day, find out everything you like- badger you even. So that he could learn your favorite things and hopefully earn the right of being one of your favorite things too. 

- He imagines the three of you holding him close in the winter and giving him space in the spring when his skin gets all sheady and itchy. Maybe you’d even make him one of those oatmeal baths that you’d started to favor towards the end of your pregnancy to help ease the shedding process. he imagines Jimin prodding at his scales and counting them. Namjoon kissing the ones behind his ear. 

- Yoongi thinks of the future you have with namjoon and jimin and thinks about you and your child. Yoongi imagines for a second even though the image hurts; what it would be like to see them. He feels his heart ache so viscerally it’s too much- he can’t think about that. 

- He can't think about what he can’t have. In the next few days he’s going to do his best to love you three and protect you and then that will be that. that's all yoongi gets. Not a life with you or a family with you. And then he opens his eyes, swallowing. And thinks that even if he doesn’t get to see all of that- at least- at the very least, he can savor every moment like it might be the last.

- And it is the last moment, Five. 

-  Four. He leaves the room to get a glass of water. If he’d known, maybe he would have looked back when he crossed over the threshold of your bedroom door. The clock ticking down to zero in an instant like a timer left unwatched. 

- Three. If he’d known, maybe he would have leaned over Jimin’s body to kiss your lips- just to kiss you once. Given Namjoon a kiss too. Touched Jimin's face to say ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the love you want, but they’ll give it to you in my absence,”

- Two. On his ways down the stairs, the house is quiet and so familiar. The only home he’s ever had, the only place he’s ever wanted to stay forever.

- One. He’s just on the landing, when he sees the car out-front, black with its lights off, but if he listens he can still hear it running, as quiet as a mountain lions purr. Then He hears a quiet knock at the door. And Yoongi pauses on the steps.

- The clock stops at zero.

- The cherry of her lit cigarette is the only thing that glimmers in the moonlight with any color. That and the red tip of her tongue as she rolls it over her teeth. Yoongi freezes in fear the second he sees his owner, standing with her arm against the doorframe. 

- A wash of cigarette smoke tainting the scents of all of you on him. He sees her farce, her thinly veiled superiority, and the tenseness in her body. Three men behind her. it’s all a lie, she’s angry and she’s afraid and she’s a devil in human skin. 

- “Times up Yoongi.” One moment- he just needs one more moment. Holds up her finger and for once, she listens. Taps her foot impatiently. 

- The house is quiet, upstairs you sleep on, unaware of what happens below. 

- The next morning you wake up to Jimin and Namjoon curled up close. Their soft breathes intermingling in the golden light of morning. Jimin nosing underneath your chin. You cuddle close for a moment letting the safety of sleep melt away, before you sigh and get up to get dressed. The heats broken over the night, and you wrap your fluffy robe around your shoulders just to feel a little cozy. You don’t know why you feel so restless, but it’s like your bones are cold.

- Things are too quiet, the hum of Yoongi’s air conditioners aren’t running, aren’t filling the top floor of your house with their white noise hum. And you realize something’s wrong the second you pause by his door. Usually, his air conditioners run through the night, and leave the space under his door and immediately outside in the hall cooler to the touch, but a look inside after a nock reveals his room is empty, his straw hat is missing from its hook too. You’d assumed he’d left after last night to sleep in his own room because yours was too warm.

- You spill out onto the first floor of your house looking for him, searching for him by the coffee maker or on the couch watching the morning news, but a small commotion, terse hush words interrupt your train of thought.

- The cat hybrids are crowded around something on the table. Breakfast barely even started. One of them turns when they see you in the doorway and if any of them notice something different about your scent- probably drenched with both all of your hybrids. None of them say anything. If you had to guess- you’d say that whatevers wrong is much more pressing than any hybrid faux pas.

- “We were going to wake you” one of them says, biting her lower lip, her torn ear twitching. “We didn’t think you’d want us to move it until you saw.”

- The crowd parts, and you pull up to the side of the prep table. a blanket is folded on the table- it’s Yoongi’s- the heated one. The one that he needs to sleep if he’s going to not wake up shaky and too cold in the middle of the night. His sun hat- the one he always wears sitting on top of it, a little note sitting there too tucked into the leather band.

- The simple note- two words that aren’t enough to soothe the sudden panic in your veins. “I’m sorry” written in his neat scrawl. The words he wants to say but can’t- had to erase and then scribble over so you can’t read them. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, I would if I could, and I want too so bad. it’s not your fault that i had to go.” 

- But there are just those two. I’m sorry. Not enough and almost visceral in the way that they shock the air out of your lungs. You gasp- almost falling with the way it hits you. You wish it wasn’t true, but deep down you know what it means.

- Yoongi is gone. 

Please Reblog and Comment! Likes are nice but they do little to support content creators! 

Kofi

[aquarii-writes]

Memories (Foolish x GN reader)

Notes: heavily implied AFAB as well as Reader being given different variations of momma/mommy. This turned out a bit sadder than I intended fuckin hell

WARNING: Death, pregnancy/after birth

Genre: angsty

WC: 1,864

Memories meant the world to Foolish. The memory of meeting you, your first kiss, and when you first spent the night were ingrained in his head. They were everything to him; especially since one-day he knew you wouldn't be here again.

Though seeing you now with his son? This might be the most special yet. Your baby boy sat wriggling in your arms. His eyes had yet to open but Foolish could already guess that they'd be green like his.

The baby's skin was already shining a gold color once all the blood was wiped away from his body. Tears fell from Foolish's eyes as he got closer to you. Sweat lined your forehead but you couldn't have been more beautiful.

"Can.. can I hold him?" Your husband's voice broke as he spoke to you. With a gentle chuckle you allowed your husband to take the baby in your arms; your precious son.

Holding the bundle in his arms, Foolish swayed to try and get Jr to open his eyes. "Common buddy. Lemme see your eyes" Foolish cooed at his son.

Puffy attended to you. Your bleeding had yet to stop but so far it was normal, just needed a few stitches to patch everything back up.

Jr kept wiggling around in his father's arms. Poor thing just wanted his momma so he cried out for them. Jr's crying broke his father's heart, did the baby already not like him?

With a swift hushing Puffy pulled the baby boy away from his father and placed him back to his momma.

"Dad?" Puffy turned to her son, a curious look settled on her features. "Are they supposed to be this tired? I know birth is hard but-"

Puffy cut off her boy. "Everything (Y/n) is experiencing is normal bubs. They'll get their strength back in due time"

But that was nearly two months ago. You had suddenly grown weaker. Puffy couldn't find a reason nor could Ponk. The two of them checked you over and over yet still found no reason why you got so sick.

However your baby boy kept getting stronger. After you and Foolish were home and got back settled into a routine Jr quickly found comfort within his father's arms. Sweet thing was passed around between aunts, uncles, and grandparents but he would cry and scream towards everyone of them till he was back in your or Foolish's arms.

Though Jr seemed the sense that his momma was getting weaker. His glassy eyes would only stop when he found you.

Time seemed to work in Foolish's favor. He tried everything he could think of but nothing seemed to make you better. Till eventually just four months after Jr was born you started to finally get better.

So everything got better. You started to become yourself again and eventually the two of you had another child. A baby girl named Fin.

Jr was around a year and a half when his sister was born and the boy wouldn't stay still as he wanted to see you. Once everything was said and done Jr couldn't wait to see his momma and sister.

His jumbled sentences calling for Foolish to let him see momma. "Calm down we're gonna see momma" papa's chuckles made Jr smile. Once finally in the room Jr cuddled up to you and asked to see Fin.

Finley was wrapped in Jr's old baby blanket and small fins poked out from her head and back. Tiny little scales littered parts of her skin and looked like freckles. She looked more like a shark than a totem, but she was very much still Foolish's daughter.

A familiar worry bubbled up in Foolish's stomach. Would you get sick again like you did after Jr's birth? Birth will always be hard, but maybe it was easier this time now that Finley was a second baby.

Sensing his worry you waved for your husband to come over. "I'll be okay love-" the sweetness in your voice could've made him cry, "But incase something happens promise me that you won't neglect the babies. They will need their father"

Foolish's kisses lingered longer than he intended. Your two children were now asleep in your arms, but Foolish still worried. Your smile, albeit rather tired, was still bright.

"Can I hold her?" the line brought a sense of nostalgia. A gentle smile rested on your face as you held your daughter out to your husband.

"Of course my love"

Rain fell in waves as your daughter slept against her father. He held an umbrella over himself and Jr. The little boy didn't understand what was going on but kept crying that mommy wouldn't be able to get up if they were in the dirt.

While somber Foolish didn't let his tears fall till well after his children's bed time. Finny was only 4 months old and Jr was almost 2 a widow in just a matter of months.

The atmosphere was somber as Puffy picked up her grandson and attempted to explain that mommy won't wake up again, but just gave up in the end. Silent tears would just run down the rams face.

Foolish wouldn't leave your grave for a while. His arms numb from holding his baby girl but she was still asleep; it was only her whimpers to the cold and rain did he think to finally return inside.

Once the children were down to sleep did Foolish finally let out a sob. Heart wrenching cries filled the living room as he poured his heart out to his hands. You had written a letter before you passed and he couldn't bring himself to read it, at least not now. Not after he had to bury you.

Memories meant everything to Foolish, and he didn't think that he could forget you any time soon. Though he could still see you from these memories and from your letter and he could still physically see you in your children.

Jr had your hair though it was much darker while Finny had your eyes. Beautiful (e/c) eyes always shined through the little girls iris'. He could see you in how Jr acted and the way he touched his sister; always so gentle just as you had taught him to be. Finny would always reach for the things she knew were yours.

It just brought him to tears however Foolish knew new memories would be made with you still in them. Your beautiful eyes and personality will always be present in your children.

After a few years, once he got a handle of caring for two children on his own, Foolish finally opened your letter. Elegant script was written on the page.

'My Dearest Foolish,

If you're reading this then I've died. Whether it be not long after I write this or after a long life I am still dead, though I have a feeling its the former. How have our children turned out? I don't know if Jr will understand and Finley will have no memory of me... Does Finny still have my eyes? Is Jr still gentle with Finny? I know little boys can be so rough..

But aside from such please know that I love you. If I held the choice I would've stayed longer, but I'm on my last life. Maybe Lady Death could give me a pass? Maybe I could come back and see my babies? Oh if I continue thinking like this I'm going to cry..

I love you more than anything in this universe and I love our children all the same. I know that some day you'll find another to love, maybe it'll be me reincarnated? Just.. don't dwell on my death too long, if not for me for our children. Jr and Finny deserve to see their father happy.

I do hope that the both of them know I love them very much.. I know memories mean everything to you so please make new ones with Jr and Finny. Let me live on through them.

Forever with love, your dearest (Y/n)'

Tears fell on the aged parchment. It had been weathered before, presumably from your tears, but new wrinkles formed. Foolish has new memories. Your children did keep you alive within them.

Finny's eyes, while hers, were still yours. Her eyes shown just as bright as yours once did. While Jr is as gentle as ever with his baby sister. Snowchester was a new home for them all when you died, but it now means so much to the babies.

Foolish covered his mouth as he leaned over the coffee table. He didn't notice the tiny feet padding towards him. Finley's small hands gripped at her fathers fore arm. Big (e/c) pools stared into him.

Acting as though he wasn't crying Foolish dried his eyes and picked up the little girl. "What are you doing here sweetheart?"

"I got cold" Finny mumbled to her father and curled into him. Her scales had turned a golden color after you had passed. It was a shame you couldn't have seen how pretty Finny turned out to be, even at 5.

"Where's bubbas then?" evening out his tone Foolish sat back with Finny. The snow outside had started back up again to add a new layer to the landscape.

"Bubba is playing with Michael still. Mr. Tubbo and Mr. Ranboo asked if I wanted to come inside, but I wanted to play with you" Finny looked up at Foolish. She was tired and wanted a nap so she cuddled further into her father.

"Well you look pretty tired, sweets, how about we just go to sleep?" Finny shook her head no and stared at the open letter.

"Why were you crying daddy?" Finny's voice was quiet. Almost like she wasn't supposed to ask the question.

"Well... I was remembering mommy and reading a letter she gave me.." squeezing his girl, Foolish rested his head on hers. Jr nor Finny had ever really asked about their mother.

"What was mommy like? Mr. Ranboo says she was really nice before she went to sleep for a long time.." Finny played with the ends of her hair as she spoke to her father. Memories of you flooded his mind. The most prominent thing was how loving you were. You gave up all 3 of your lives for people you cared for.

"Well.. mommy loved you and bubbas very much. She loved a lot of people. Mommy was also very kind and helpful.. She would do anything to make sure people were happy-"

"Do I look like Mommy?" Finley gazed at her hands. The golden freckles that glittered her skin were something she had seen on no one else.

"You look a lot like mommy, Finny" Foolish lied through his teeth. She had your eyes but looked very similar to him over all. But if his little girl is happy then what of it?

Seemingly satisfied with her prodding Finny became silent again, and soon enough her little snores alerted Foolish to the fact that she was asleep.

I don't think I'll ever forget you (Y/n), but Finny sure won't let me try

[bl--ankhaeji]

Bed of Roses

Pairing~ Emperor!Taeyong x CivilianPharmacist!Reader

Genre~ fluff,, angst,, empireau

Warnings~ smut..like three different scenes,,fem!recieving oral,,handjob,,switch?Tae/Reader,,Talks of war,,mentions/slight descriptions of death,,mentions/descriptions of extreme illness,,Taeyong has PTSD and nightmares,,mentions of blood,,Taeyong has insecurites,,mentions of rotting flesh

A.N~ This is my fic for the taeyong gallery collab hosted by @alreadyblondenow   I am releasing two days later than planned I am sorry for that. This fic is based off of the painting The Kiss by Gustave Klimt. Also big thanks to my mutual/beta reader, Xiami, @kjmsupremacist​ and the mutual who made this beautiful banner for me, Mylin, @suh-insane​ This is my longest fic so far I hope you all enjoy 😊 Oh and before I forget there is a whole like sort of surgery scene in here PSA I am no doctor, I know nothing substantial about medicine or medicinal practices. I got the inspiration for that scene from a drama so...(props if you can guess which one it is)

W. Count~ 12.5k 

The screams of thousands ringing in the air is deafening. Buildings are burning to the ground from a ravenous blaze. A vibrant haze of orange and red covers every single object in sight. No matter where he looks there is someone crying; hell, even the sky seems to be crying tonight. Taeyong’s legs give out from under him, bringing the once-strong prince to his knees as his head drops, hanging lowly in shame. How had he let it get this far? What happened to his beautiful peaceful empire full of its joyous people?

War. That’s what happened. His father had gotten power hungry and bloodthirsty, a terrifying duo. He remembers sitting in the royal meetings listening to the decisions his father would make, hating every single one but not having the authority let alone the guts to stand up to him. Hurried footsteps bring the prince out of his memories as a peasant girl, barefoot and in a tattered dress, appears in front of him.

“Prince Taeyong!” she cries, tears rushing down her face as if trying to see who will beat the other to the ground first. The prince's head snaps up at her cries, looking intently at her face. Her once-beautiful features are now horribly damaged and scarred from what looks like a massive burn. The girl opens her mouth, words making their way out until they stop suddenly and are replaced with a blood-curdling scream. 

It’s then that Taeyong notices the spear cutting through her flesh, beginning to protrude through her midriff before it retrieds back through her body. The girl’s now-limp body falls in a heap in front of the prince, her blood flowing rapidly out of the deep gash. In her place stands an enemy soldier. The soldier raises his sword and the two men quickly commence into a brief battle. Taeyong quickly overtakes the soldier, tearing him down almost effortlessly. 

The tired male stands tall, chest heaving, almost completely covered in blood before he rushes back to the girl, cradling her in his arms, even though his subconscious already knows it’s too late. “M-miss, oh my god miss, p-please please wake up,” he stutters frantically, lightly tapping her face. “MEDIC!! HELP SOMEONE!” he screeches so loudly it feels as if it’s ripping his throat. 

Countless people have died in front of him this whole time. Countless bodies lay around him–men, women, and children alike. Yet he’s hellbent on trying to yell for a medic that he knows isn’t there to help this one girl. Suddenly, he sees the girl's eyes flutter open. “My prince,” her voice barely whispers, her shaking hands reaching up slowly to softly cradle the prince’s tear streaked face. Suddenly the strength returns to her body, her hands, once gentle, now harshly gripping the side’s of Taeyong's face, nails causing what feels like permanent moon shaped indentures on his face. “YOU!” she spits. 

Her eyes, once gentle and kind, tainted with fear, now hold an anger and bloodlust so intense it is almost suffocating. “You’re the reason I’m like this! You and the royal family caused this-this WAR. And for what reason, huh? Thousands of lives lost; all of my friends and family are now dead because of you. I’M EVEN DEAD NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!!” Her hands now tightly grip his neck. “If I have to die by your hands then you have to die by mine. You made this bed of thorns, now lay in it. DIE!” 

“AHHHHHH!” An ear piercing cry leaves the man's lips as he now sits up in his bed scrambling to the headboard as if trying to get away. His clothes and bedding are drenched in sweat. His personal guard, Doyoung, rushes into the room, thinking there was a possible intruder from the emperor's cries. Even though this was far from the first time the emperor was plagued by night terrors, he could never be too certain.

“Your Highness, Your Highness please. Taeyong! Snap out of it; you’ll wake the entire empire, sir please.” Doyoung pleaded with the now sobbing man. “Your Highness, it’s okay it was just a dream, none of it is real.” The guard's large hand lands on the emperor’s back as he rubs soothing circles in hopes of calming the almost hysterical man. 

The dream may not have been real but his pain was, the war was real. His sobs are deafening. 

His people, his country. He failed them; he’s still failing them.

~

The once-cowering man now stands tall with an aura of elegance and power radiating off of him. After Doyoung’s fruitless attempts at trying to talk Taeyong into getting some help for his recurring nightmares, the emperor was due down in Neo City, sometimes referred to as N-City, the capital of the Neo Empire. At least once a month Taeyong comes down from the castle placed in the heart of Neo City and walks around greeting and getting to know the citizens of the city. Taeyong has always been very passionate about knowing the people under him and knowing how they live. He never wants to be an emperor that lets his people suffer while he lives extravagantly in the castle. 

He figures that’s the least he can do after failing them once already. 

He shrugs on his royal cloak even though he and everyone else knows that it’ll come off in no time once he joins the people. Taking a seat in the carriage across from Doyoung, Taeyong is handed his crown.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck fuck fuck. That’s all that you can think of as you race to make it on time. You’re so fucking late; how could you have let it slip your mind? The emperor always comes down around this time and you’re usually always in your spot on time, but you woke up late this morning after pulling an all-nighter preparing medicinal herbs for the elderly people down your street. 

Your rucksack flops lifelessly beside your hip as you finally come to a stop, managing to make it to the spot in the nick of time. You had to deliver the herbs this morning and it almost cost you to miss seeing the emperor. Ever since Taeyong had taken over as emperor and started making his monthly visits, you always made sure you were there to be able to see him. You had a special spot you always occupied. It was the perfect spot where you could see him but not be front and center so that he could see you. 

Indiscernible chatter and yelps of delight grow louder and more constant. The second you turn your head, an unmistakable crown floats atop the heads of an ample number of people. At that same moment you hear the emperor's joyous laugh, the beautiful sound bringing an uncontrollable smile to your lips. The crowd of people slowly thins out, finally allowing you to catch a glimpse of the handsome man, and you can’t help but to be taken aback by his beauty even though this is far from your first time seeing him. The first thing you look at are his eyes. Despite his entire demeanor radiating a bubbly happiness, you can see the truth in his eyes. 

Taking in the appearance of the royalty, you notice the dirty cuffs on his white button up that sit rolled up on his forearms. Ahhh he must’ve been helping Mr. Young plant vegetables again. Your mind conjures an image of the older male who has the gall to make even the emperor plant vegetables for him and  a small chuckle falls from your lips. Making your gaze up to his head, you take in the royal crown. You always wonder how the crown manages to stay rooted on his head despite sitting on it lopsided 90% of the time. A crooked smile that shines brighter than the sun graces the emperor's features and you suddenly feel your cheeks warm like a furnace. 

Too caught up in your trance, you don’t feel the person bump into you until you’re already on the ground. The silence that greets you rings heavy in the air and isn’t broken until you hear a gasp, while at the same time feeling warm, nimble fingers wrap around your arm, gently lifting you from the ground. “Are you okay?” an male voice rumbles, a voice you’re no stranger to, a voice you were just delighted to hear mere seconds ago. 

“I uh I-I ah-h y-y-yes-,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent words once you realize that the emperor has helped you up from the ground. 

The emperor helped you up.

The emperor has his hand wrapped around your arm.

The emperor saw your fall... Dear God THE EMPEROR SAW YOUR FALL!

“I-I uhh YES-yes, I am fine,” you rush out, keeping your head down, refusing to meet the eyes of Emperor Taeyong, terrified of the judgement that might lie in them at your embarrassing fall. You quickly release yourself of his hold, scurrying away before he or anyone else can get a glimpse of your face. With your heart pounding in your ears and tears pricking your eyes you run back to your house as fast as you can manage, cutting your time to see the emperor extremely short. Hey, at least you have more time to prepare; you’re going to make things a little bit different today. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Highness.” Doyoung’s curt voice takes Taeyong’s attention away from the retreating back of the girl he just helped off of the ground mere seconds ago. 

“Wha-–ah yes! Let’s keep moving, shall we?”  

The sound of the horses' feet clacking against the stone ground echoes throughout the carriage. “Doyoung,” the emperor starts, looking almost wistfully out of the window. “Do you think that girl from earlier is okay?” 

“I would assume so, seeing as how she had no trouble when running away as if she had just robbed a bakery,” he replied with a slight tilt in his voice.

“She did run away quite enthusiastically, didn’t she?” Taeyong can’t help the small grin that overtook his face at the memory of the girl. It was rather funny seeing her scramble away as if she had just committed a crime. 

“Your Highness, we have arrived.” The coachman speaks from the outside of the carriage as it slows to a stop. 

Despite the limited space, Taeyong stands, shouldering the heavy royal robe. The door to the carriage is opened by one of the royal guards, who proceeds to escort Taeyong to the steps of the palace. A sound of disdain falls from the guards lips and catches Taeyong’s attention. “What seems to be the problem, might I ask?” Halting his steps, Taeyong turns towards the guard and gives him his full attention. 

Realizing the emperor heard him, the guard stiffens, stuttering over his words hurriedly, attempting to make sure the emperor didn’t misunderstand. “Ah—no, Your Highness. There is no problem; not with you, at least, it’s just there’s this girl that always comes to the palace every week, and it’s just really annoying to send her away all the time.” 

Spotting a girl making her way up the palace steps, the guard and Taeyong watch as the girl encounters her first guard, thrusting the huge bouquet into his face then bowing, appearing to say something completely inaudible from this distance. Standing straight, she looks as if she begs the guard for something, a hopeful look etched onto her face only for it to fall after the guard says something in return. Seemingly giving up, the girl turns to leave the palace, only this time she hangs her head down in sorrow. 

Gathering what could be classified as a humongous bouquet, you make your way to the palace, even though you know you’ll probably be sent away again. Having succeeded in finally getting them to at least take the bouquet, you can only hope it reaches the emperor. Usually you just give him a nice bouquet full of roses that grow right in your garden at home with a nice little card attached reminding him to eat and get enough fluids, things like that, but this time after seeing the emperor you know he needs more than just roses. You gathered up and put together a bouquet full of beautiful red roses, gladiolus colored a light pale peach, white poppies, and a bunch of basil sprinkled throughout the bouquet. 

Each flower carries a significant meaning with it that you want to give to the emperor and even if none of your other bouquets got to him, you really wish this one will. Sitting down, you prepare to write the note that you would leave this time. 

It’s me again, Your Highness. I saw you today when you went down to town, and you looked really tired despite the smile you put on your face for us. I do hope you are getting enough sleep while also keeping yourself fed and hydrated, otherwise if you get sick, who will lead us as well as you do? 

As you can see, I gave you a little something different than the usual roses. Considering that you’re a busy person, I’ll assume that you don’t know these flowers or their meanings so allow me to tell you. 

The red flowers are obviously the roses I have been giving you for the last year or so. The pink looking flowers are called Gladiolus and they symbolize strength and get their name from gladiators who fight with strength and honor. The white flowers are called White poppies; they symbolize peace and the remembrance of war. They got that meaning because they are usually the flowers that grow atop fallen soldiers' bodies after war. Finally the little green leaves sprinkled throughout the bouquet are called Basil; although usually used in food, they are also thought to bring peace while warding off negative spirits, symbolizing good wishes, wealth, and a happy home. 

Now that you know their meaning, I hope you can understand why I gifted these to you. Till next time Your Highness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing the folded piece of paper, Taeyong lets out a breath before looking at the beautiful bouquet in his hands. He was surprised that someone took so much notice and cared so greatly about him and his well-being to do something like this. With a light heart and a small flustered grin, he places the card back in the bouquet, setting the flowers in a vase atop the vanity in his room, somewhere where he is sure he will get to see the flowers everyday. 

Back to normal again this week, Your Highness. I do hope that you were able to receive last week's bouquet, but I know there’s a good chance you did not, just like you will not this week. Do not ask why I continue to deliver these bouquets even though I know that you have not gotten a single one. It is too much to explain over a single note. I hope you have eaten well and stayed hydrated throughout this week. I also hope you have been sleeping well. If not, one way I find that helps is lavender oil. You could take it orally or drink some lavender tea before bed. You could even keep lavender in your room to infuse the area with its scent. 

That’s it for this week, Your Highness. Till next time

Closing the note from this week, Taeyong places it back inside of the bouquet, setting it down on his vanity. “Doyoung!” When you delivered today’s bouquet, Taeyong had made specific orders to ensure that it got to him this time. “Could you fetch me some lavender?” 

So after the first time, every week Taeyong couldn’t help but find himself lying in wait anxiously just to get your bouquet and read the sweet little notes you left in them. He had made sure to keep every single letter. His room was so full of roses that he had to start placing them all over the palace, but not without making sure to get the little note always cuddled inside. Not only that, he even started to smell like roses and he couldn’t be happier. He soon found himself relying on the little notes left in the bouquets’ to get himself through the week. Even if it was the simplest message just telling him to make sure to eat, drink, and sleep properly it still means the world to him.

 He would get so excited for the bouquets that he had even started to make his way down to the palace entrance when he knew you were coming. Doyoung would compare it to a dog waiting on their owner to get home. He swore one of these days he was going to stop being a scaredy cat and go out and accept the bouquet himself, but until that day came he would remain behind the palace doors. 

The resounding gong of the grandfather clock echoed throughout the room, alerting Taeyong of the new hour. It’s not like he didn’t already know, though. “It’s 4 o’clock, I have thirty minutes till my roses come.” Signing the last of the documents, stacking them on top of his desk, Taeyong stands, stretching his lithe body in order to get rid of the stiffness in his joints. Walking around his desk, Taeyong makes his way through the door.

A monotone voice laced with sarcasm breaks the silence, scaring Taeyong. “I guess it’s time for your one-sided weekly date. Or is it one-sided since one brings gifts while the other just watches like a creepy stalker?” Doyoung questions, leaning against the wall next to the entrance whilst raising his eyebrow.

“N-no! I mean, yes, it is close to time for the delivery, but it’s not a date.” A light blush covers Taeyong’s cheeks as the word ‘date’ falls from his lips. “I was just leaving to go around the palace and see how everything is going, checking and making sure things are happening the way they should–y’know, kingly duties.”

Turning to face the obviously flustered king, Doyoung gives him a deadpan expression that screams mmhm sure. “All I got from that was that you admit to being a creepy stalker.” Taeyong’s mouth flies open, unable to give a coherent response. “Oops, look at the time! You should probably start making your rounds,” he says, walking out of the room, the sound of Taeyong’s incoherent ramblings drowning out as he walks away. 

Sobering up from his conversation with Doyoung, he makes his rounds around the castle, steadily making his way to the entrance, keeping his eyes on the time. By the time he makes it to the entrance, he can see the girl making her way up the palace stairs, still a little dot in the distance. He can’t help but notice the way his hands begin to feel clammy and his heart rate slowly picking up as your face comes into view. 

He remembers the first time he came down and was finally able to see your face clearly. He swears it was as if the world stopped. You looked more beautiful than any bouquet he has received from you. He was so flustered that he couldn’t help but to blush every time he thought of you. He knows because Doyoung wouldn’t shut up about the magenta red that spread along his cheeks at random times that day. 

He was so focused on looking at you that he didn’t realize the rushed way in which you gave the guard the bouquet. All he knew was that one second he was staring at your face and the next your back as you lightly jogged away. Slight disappointment settles in his stomach as he realizes you didn’t even attempt to convince the guard to give the bouquet to him this time. 

The guard walks over, handing the bouquet to the waiting king, not wanting to be gone from her post too long; she quickly turns around, moving to head back before the voice of the emperor stops her. “Wait!” Taeyong notices the tension in her body at the sound of his voice, “Yes, your highness?” she asks, voice shaking slightly. 

“Where is the note?” 

Turning back around, she faces the emperor. “What note, sir?” 

“The note. The one that’s always in her bouquets.” Taeyong notices his voice came out sharper than he intended when he sees the guard flinch slightly. “I apologize; I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly. I just—there’s always a note that comes with her bouquets and-and there’s not one in here.”

“Ah, I don’t believe there was one in there, Your Highness. At least, I didn’t see one when she handed it to me.” Upon seeing the crestfallen look that sits on the emperor's face, the guard instantly offers to check and see if it had fallen off somewhere. 

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Taeyong replies, “No you’re fine–it’s fine if you didn’t see it when she handed it to you then it must not have been there in the first place.” Taeyong can hear how disheartened his voice was. Deciding it’s time to go inside, he sends the guard off to go do what they were doing beforehand.

“Hey Tae, how was the–What’s wrong?” Doyoung instantly notices the somber expression placed upon the emperor’s face. “You usually are about ready to jump off of the walls and now you look like the baker just ran out of those sweet potato cubes you get when we go into town.”

“It’s nothing.”

Grabbing Taeyong’s shoulder, Doyoung turns him around so they’re face to face, “That girl didn’t say anything mean in that note she leaves in the bouquets did she? Cause if she did, so help me god- no so help her I will-.”

“Calm down, she didn’t say anything mean. She didn’t say anything at all. There was no note in the bouquet this time.” 

“Oh. Uhh well, at least she still delivered the roses. Maybe something happened and she didn’t have time to write the letter,” Doyoung tries to reason, hoping he would be able to say something that would lift his friend’s spirit. Taeyong could tell Doyoung was trying his best to be supportive but there is nothing he could say right now that could make him feel any better.

“Y-yeah, maybe.” Not wanting to think about it anymore, Taeyong leaves for his room with a wave. At least he finished all of his paperwork for the day and he can just lay in bed.  

Taeyong finds himself walking through a field filled with flowers without an end in sight. It’s not until he sees the outline of a person sitting in the field that he starts to speed up, hoping he could ask the stranger where he was at. 

As he gets closer, the person begins to seem more and more familiar. It has him thinking, trying to figure out who it could be. As if the person hears him they turn around and he’s surprised to see you sitting in the field. 

“Hello Taeyong.” 

“Ahh hi.” Taeyong can feel his heart rate pick up almost as if it’s trying to jump out of his chest.

“Would you like to sit with me? The bloom is absolutely beautiful today.” Replying with a stiff nod, the usually confident emperor shyly takes a seat in the field of white flowers. Giving the seemingly flustered male a soft smile you pluck one of the flowers out of the field, lifting it up to your nose smelling the fragrant plant. 

“Smells heavenly. Would you like to take a sniff?” you ask, taking the flower away from under your nose, handing it to the male opposite you. 

Taeyong takes the small white flower out of your hand, lifting it to take a whiff. He immediately recoils as the putrid smell of rotting flesh infiltrates his senses, “Wha-” You snatch the flower away from his hand taking another whiff. 

“Smells great, doesn’t it? I love the smell of white poppies.” It’s then that Taeyong’s mind remembers the white flowers that were in the first bouquet that he received from you as well as the meaning of the flowers. Finally taking in his surroundings, Taeyong realises that it’s not just a field of flowers but a field of dead bodies. 

“Y’know Taeyong, I used to be sad thinking that I was going to have to go forever without ever getting to see these gorgeous flowers. But because of you and the war your family started, all of these dead bodies were able to sit here and grow some of the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.” By now you have picked up a whole bouquet worth of the poppies, little pieces of rotted flesh hanging off of the bottoms, “Too bad I had to die before I got to see them.” 

After hearing her last sentence Taeyong takes a good look at the girl, noticing that the white poppies she had collected were all from her body. “Y’know maybe you should die too so you can fully witness the beauty of these flowers,” you say with a slight tilt to not only your voice but your head. 

Before he can question it you’re already driving a spear through Taeyong’s heart. 

~

“Taeyong you look like absolute shit. Do you really think you should be going into town like that?” The bags under Taeyong’s eyes look bigger and heavier than the robe on his shoulders. It has been a week since you dropped off the bouquet without a note.  

“Yes, Doyoung. It’s been a month, we don’t want people to worry.” 

“Funny. You say you don’t want them to worry but you look like the living dead. They’ll worry either way.” The guard rebutts, crossing his arms sassily.

“Doie, I don’t have the time nor the energy to argue with you, just please can we go?” 

“That’s just it. You always have time and energy to argue with me! Taeyong, it’s been a week; it was just one note out of hundreds. Who knows; maybe she just forgot to put it in the bouquet, but regardless of what happened you can't keep moping around and carrying yourself like this. You’re an emperor, for pete’s sake! What will you do when she stops bringing the bouquets?”

Taeyong freezes. What will he do? He can't expect you to deliver bouquets forever, can he? At some point you’ll get tired of it, tired of him, and what will he do then? Standing straight, Taeyong makes his way out of the palace, head held impossibly high. 

“I- dammit Taeyong I didn’t mean it like-”

“No. You’re right, I can’t expect her to always bring the bouquets, that's selfish of me.” I can't always expect her to be here. It's selfish to expect her to be here. “Come on, we have people to see,” he says, climbing inside of the carriage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally done unpacking your clothes from the last minute trip you had to take last week, you plop onto your bed, completely beat. One of the families you delivered medicine to ran out suddenly and you had to rush to their house so that their child did not die. You spent the rest of the week nursing the child back to health after they had to go without medicine.  

The thing is, you got the message in the middle of making the emperor’s bouquet for that week and you didn’t have the time to make a note to put in the bouquet. Even though you know that the emperor doesn’t receive the bouquets at all, you still felt the guilt sitting in the pit of your stomach that entire week. 

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you’re woken by a series of rushed knocks on your pharmacy door. Getting out of bed reluctantly, you grab your apron, tying it around your waist and walking to the door in order to go see who it is. 

“Chamomile Pharmacy, how may I–” you start opening the door until you get sight of the person on the other side and quickly slam the door back in place. Why was Emperor Taeyong at your door?!? And why did you just slam the door in his face? Reopening the door, you start bowing and apologizing to the seemingly starstruck emperor at once. “I-I am so sorry Your Highness, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s just you caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting it to be you behind the door,” you hurriedly attempt to explain until Taeyong is knocked out of the way by his royal guard Doyoung. 

“We don’t have time for this right now. You can have your little–whatever this is later. We need you to make more of this medicine for Mr. Young immediately. We showed up at his house right as he passed out and this was on his counter!”        

Grabbing the bottle, you realize this is the heart elixir you made him some time ago, “Shit! Okay I’ll be right back. I need to go grab something out of the garden first,” You quickly tell the men, writing at the speed of light on a piece of paper. “Here, while I’m getting that I need you two to look and find these in that cabinet over there. I need everything ready for when I get back so I can quickly get this to him.” 

Rushing out into the garden, you quickly sort through various plants until you find the two you’re looking for. You barge back into the pharmacy to see that Doyoung and the emperor got a little over half of the ingredients down. “Okay, even though everything isn’t down yet I’m going to go ahead and get started. One of you, continue to look for everything while the other comes over here and gives me a hand. We have to hurry.” You are so focused on getting the medicine done that you don’t even notice Taeyong handing you the supplies. 

Finishing up the elixir and gathering all of the utensils, you stuff them into your rucksack and run out of the door. “We rode horses over here, it’s faster than on foot. Hop on Taeyong’s; we have to go,” Doyoung all but commands as he mounts his horse, already taking off. The adrenaline pumping through your system helps to keep you calm about the fact that you now have your arms wrapped around Taeyong’s waist and are currently on a horse with him. 

In no time you’re riding up to Mr. Young's homely brick house, the one that he and his late wife built back when they were younger. Pushing your way into the house, you see the old man lying on a cot on the floor. Taking everything out, you lie it on a towel next to you on the floor and pull on a pair of gloves. 

Quickly checking the old man's pulse, you let out a breath in relief that it’s still there but very faint. You take a pair of medical scissors and cut his shirt open. Grabbing the bottle containing the green elixir and a needle syringe you urgently but carefully extract some of the liquid from the bottle. At this point the silence in the room is deafening, but you’re only able to hear the white noise buzzing in your ears, blocking out any and all distractions. 

You check and make sure that it’s the right amount before giving the syringe a slight squeeze, pushing a few drops of the liquid out of the needle. Taking a deep breath, you harshly stab the needle into the man’s chest, forcing the liquid through the needle, unknowingly garnering stiff gasps from those who are watching. You immediately retract the syringe only to place your hand on the same spot, firmly yet softly massaging it. 

After massaging for a couple of minutes you sit back, bated breaths falling from your lips. “You can take him to his room now, he needs to rest. I’ll go make some tea for everyone.” Gathering your supplies, you take them to the kitchen to disinfect and sterilize them. Behind the doors of the kitchen you finally feel yourself calm down and it’s then that you notice the intense way in which your hands are shaking.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was going fine, and he was almost done making his rounds with everyone. One of the last people he had to meet with was Mr. Young, the sweet old man who always made him help pick things out of his garden, and that’s when the day took a turn. Was it for the worse? Taeyong didn’t know yet. Walking in on the man passed out on the floor shook Taeyong to his core. When he and Doyoung finally noticed the empty bottle on the countertop, they read the label which stated the pharmacy where the medicine was from. 

From there, they took two of the guard’s horses and were off to find the pharmacy. It’s there that Taeyong found you, though the circumstances were less than great. He still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him, but the moment was over after Doyoung realized what was happening. Now that everything had calmed down and Mr. Young was okay, the fact that you were just a few steps away in the kitchen was eating at the emperor. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t go in there and talk to her.” Doyoung spoke suddenly, sounding bored with his life after noticing the way in which the king fidgeted in his chair, eyes constantly flitting to look back and forth from the kitchen door to his feet. 

“I mean, it’s not like she can do anything; you’re an emperor for god’s sake. Unless you want to continue being a creepy stalker, I suggest you go in there and tell her that you’ve been receiving her bouquets and you like them or some shit like that.” 

“I-I can’t just barge in there and–”

“He only had jasmine tea in his cabinets, so I hope there’s nothing wrong with that,” you say, walking into the living room with a tray of tea-filled cups in your hands. 

“Jasmine is fine,” Doyoung replied, simultaneously leaning down to pick up his cup. Taeyong suddenly couldn’t speak as you looked at him expectantly, wanting to make sure he was okay with jasmine tea. All he could do was look up at your glowing face with eyes that might as well be in the shape of hearts. “Ah jasmine is good for him as well. Forgive my liege, he's still a little shaken up from the situation.” 

With a soft nod you turn around, moving to make your way back into the kitchen. It was then that Taeyong’s mouth and mind decided to move as one. “Wait! Where are you going?”  

“Oh, uhm, I was going back to the kitchen. I figured you two would want to be alone,” you say, almost cradling the board to your body, gesturing awkwardly towards the door. 

“You don’t have to.  Why don’t you sit in here, with us?” 

“I mean, if you’re fine with that.”

“I’m fine, I’m more than fine.” The words were out of Taeyong’s mouth before he could even process them fully. You move to sit on the other side of the loveseat beside Taeyong. 

The sound of purposeful slurping provided by Doyoung barely sufficed at cutting the tension in the room. “I just remembered, we never seemed to have gotten your name?” Doyoung asked, ending the silence that layered the house. 

Quickly swallowing the tea in your mouth, you reply “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me, my name is Y/n. I’m the owner of Chamomile Pharmacy.” You add a bright smile at the end.

“Owner, huh? You must really like medicine.”  

“Hmm, I guess you could say that, but not really. I mainly just like flowers, and growing up I realized all the medicinal benefits they hold, so I figured why not make money and spend my life surrounded by what I love?” You sit back in the seat, seemingly comfortable now that you’re talking about a passion. “I get to help people while surrounded by plants all day; it’s a win-win.” 

“Mmhm, that sounds lovely. Oh, Taeyong.” The king’s head practically snaps up at the mention of his name. Spotting the mischievous look in his best friend's eyes, his stomach practically dropped to the floor. “You love flowers as well, specifically roses. Don’t you, Your Highness?” 

“I–”

“Yeah, I distinctly remember your love for roses starting after receiving a bouquet full of them every week.” Doyoung had no idea that this was the flower girl at first, but Taeyong could tell by the way he had been acting ever since you came around that he had come to piece it together–especially after you blatantly declared your love for flowers just a few mere seconds ago. 

At his words, your mouth fell open in pure unadulterated shock. The emperor had been receiving your bouquets?! And he liked them? You had no idea how to feel with all of the mixed emotions flowing through you. 

Wide eyed, you ask, “You’ve been receiving my bouquets, Your Highness?” 

Taeyong is flustered when he replies, “Y-Yes I have, they are very… nice. Thank you for them.”

“He really likes the little love notes you put in them,” Doyoung adds, deliberately putting the word love in front of notes. At his words, Taeyong throws the harshest glare he could at the other man, wishing he could strangle him with his eyes alone. 

While Taeyong was glaring daggers at the knight, you couldn’t help but feel sheepish. You thought you were giving those flowers away for nothing, only to realize that the emperor had been getting them and he liked them. Then you remembered that you had forgotten the note in your last one. 

“Ah, I just remembered that I forgot to put a note in the last one.” You speak bashfully, lowering your head. “Well, I didn’t forget, per say, I just didn’t have the time–an emergency came up while I was making it and I had to hurry. I didn’t think it would matter that much since you weren’t getting them, but now I know you were, so I feel bad.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. There’s no need for you to feel bad, things happen.” Taeyong finally speaks, not liking the obvious way in which you blame yourself. Standing up, he motions to a door, stating that he has to use the restroom.

The room sits silent at Taeyong’s absence. You still feel guilty, but before you can think too hard about it, Doyoung shocks you out of your thoughts with a  question, “Y/n, why do you always give roses?”

“Hm? Oh, why roses? Well that's easy, because he’s The Rose Emperor .” Doyoung lifts an eyebrow in question. “Ah, I forgot that I’m the only one who calls him that,” you explain quickly. “Well, one of the reasons is because he has this beautiful rose-shaped scar right under his right eye. And I mean, he’s like a rose. Pretty and elegant and practically harmless to the unsuspecting eye, but he has thorns, which he uses to keep people away, thorns he uses to hide things from everyone, even those closest…”You trail off for a moment, thinking. “Hmm, if you think about it that way, wouldn’t that mean we're all like roses?” You speak nonchalantly, looking somewhat deeply into your cup of tea. “So that would make this world a bed of roses, wouldn’t it?” 

Standing but a few feet away, hiding behind a wall, the man in question couldn’t help but overhear. The way you talked and the words you used to describe him made his heart pound. You sounded so sweet and genuine, and he couldn’t help but believe every word you said. His hand uncontrollably caresses the scar you mentioned. He never noticed that it looked like a rose. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Doyoung, I need to borrow some of your clothes.” Busting into the guard’s room, the emperor pants quickly, garnering the man’s attention. 

“Wha–for what?”

“No questions, I just need them,” the young ruler says, walking into the man's wardrobe. “Oh and if you have a hat and mask, I’m going to take those, too.”

Taeyong’s presence in the shop is known as soon as he walks through the door, a bell ringing upon contact. Hurriedly pretending to scan the shelves as if searching extremely hard for something, Taeyong hears you enter the room through the back door moments later. 

“Sorry for not greeting you as soon as you came in. I was doing a little gardening in the back. Is there anything I can help you with today?” you ask, simultaneously washing the slight dirt off of your hands at the sink.

Knowing it would be rude to not acknowledge you, Taeyong turns to face you, self-consciously tugging on the mask resting on his face, not knowing if he wants you to know it’s him or not. You walk over after drying your hands, ready to help the customer, finally getting a good look at the man’s mask-covered face. You freeze in your spot, not knowing if you are just delusional or if Emperor Taeyong is actually standing in the middle of your pharmacy. 

“Uhh Your Highness..?” you question slowly, giving the stranger room to deny if needed. 

“I–uhmm yes,” Taeyong stutters, taking the mask off of his face, revealing his apparently not-so-secret identity. Despite breathing just fine a few seconds ago, Taeyong seems to not be able to when you give him a dazzling smile. You ask him why he’s here and if he needs anything. “Yes, I’m here because I, uhh, need something to help with… headaches! Yes, I get headaches, y’know, from reading papers all day.”

“I have just the thing to help with that! I get headaches myself, and I find that the plant Feverfew helps a good bit. The plant itself can be a little strong and could cause irritation to the mouth if chewed, so I just grind it up and make a nice little diluted concoction with it, and it does wonders,” you say, grabbing the bottle containing the liquid, placing it on the counter, and making your way to the other side so you could bag the medicine.

“I must warn you, though–it can have very light side effects that can cause nausea, digestive problems, and bloating.” Finishing up you place the now bagged medicine on the counter sliding it over to Taeyong. 

“Ah, how much do I owe?” 

“Nonsense, you’re good, consider it the Monarch's discount.” Thanking you, the emperor grabs the bag, making his way out the door, “Bye, come again.” 

After the first time, Taeyong continued to visit the store, each time for a different reason. He stayed a little longer each time he visited, finding himself wanting to indulge in your presence more and more. Even when you would go to the palace to deliver your weekly bouquets he would come out now just to start a conversation with you. You both would end up just sitting on the palace steps talking for hours on end. 

Now was one of the times when you would sit outside the palace talking with the king.  

“Your Highness, word was just sent in from the WayV kingdom, and there are forms to be signed urgently.” Doyoung addressed the young emperor, throwing an apologetic look at you for ruining your time together. 

A breath falls past your lips as you push yourself up. “Oh well, I guess that’s my cue to leave. See you later, Your High-” 

“Wait. Why don’t you come inside with me? This shouldn’t take too long.” 

You and Doyoung gape at the emperor, both in shock. Wanting to hurry and get things settled, Taeyong passes both of your almost statuesque bodies. Doyoung offers to show you around while Taeyong does his work but the emperor quickly refuses. “I’ll do it when I finish.”

Grabbing your wrist, Taeyong all but drags you to his office. There are so many twists and turns that you have no idea how Taeyong didn’t get lost. “You can sit over there on the couch in the foyer. I have some books on the shelf over there you can read if you want. I'll be right here behind this desk.”  

Taking in the extravagant office, you can’t help but notice how roses cover almost every single open surface possible. He really did keep every rose he got from you. Just that thought alone makes your heart pound so hard that you can hear it beating in your ears. Deciding you should do something before you look weird, you walk over to the shelf, surveying the books available to you. 

You pick a book that looks good enough and sit down on the couch.You try to focus on the words in front of you, but the room is warm, and the couch is comfortable, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. You didn’t realize you fell asleep until you felt Taeyong gently shaking you awake. The sun had started to set, casting a beautiful warm golden glow around the room. 

 Taeyong sat beside you on the couch, still grasping your shoulder as you both stared intensely at each other. You felt yourself slowly leaning towards the beautiful man, almost as if you were in a trance. Taeyong couldn’t help but take in every gorgeous feature on your face as it was surrounded by a golden halo.

Moving his hands from your shoulder to the nape of your neck he pulls you in, no longer able to hide the attraction he has for you. Your lips mingled in a dance only privy to them. Leaving the one on your neck the other moves to the side of your face, Taeyong positions you just how he wants and you couldn’t help but to give in to him.  

It was as if his entire being consumed you and you had no choice but to follow his lead. Removing his mouth from yours he steadily transitions his lips lower splaying damp kisses all around your jugular. “Y-your highness, m-maybe we should stop.”

“Call me Taeyong darling and I don’t want to stop if you don’t.” he says, eyes flitting up to look at yours. “Do you want to stop?”

Feeling a fire burning in your stomach setting your lower regions ablaze, you know you can’t give him anything but the truth, “No, I don’t want to stop Taeyong.” Taeyong’s satisfied hum rumbles against your collarbone, “That’s my girl.” 

His lips find their way back to yours, an involuntary moan falling from yours as Taeyong pushes his tongue inside your mouth. He takes his time exploring your mouth as if he wanted to get acquainted with every nook and cranny. When he took his lips away this time it was as if he took your soul right with him. A small discontent whine leaves your mouth causing the male to coo, “Aww look at my precious rose, so needy already.”

He plants a small peck on your lips pushing you to lay back on the couch, “May I remove your pants darling?” Giving him a small head nod he starts to lower himself down to your now wet core. Your underwear comes off right along with your pants and the slightly cool air hitting your hot core feels almost heavenly. 

Lifting your legs on top of his shoulders Taeyong plants soft kisses along your pelvic region finally deciding to stop teasing he licks a long slow stripe up your wet pussy making sure to give a little more pressure right onto your clit. 

Taeyong’s hands move to sit in the crevice of your pelvis, tightening his grip simultaneously bringing you closer to his mouth as he proceeds to contort his tongue between your soft lips as a pianist moves their fingers across the keys aiming to hit the right notes to make you sing.

Your voice cracks almost violently as endless moans drip from your lips like sap out a tree. Eyes sealed shut you can’t help but to see stars as Taeyong makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. His soft hair rests between your fingers latching onto the strands for dear life as you attempt to somehow ground yourself. 

If he wasn’t holding you down you know for a fact that you would be humping his face akin to a dog in heat. “Fuck.” he moans between your legs sending vibrations all the way down your body. Suckling your lips between his as he looks up at your face scrunched in pleasure, “Open your eyes baby, look at me.” 

You should not have had as much trouble as you did opening your eyes but after a few seconds you finally were able to do so. “I want you to focus on me baby, watch me eat this succulent pussy of yours until you cum.” One of his hands moves, transitioning to start rubbing your clit applying ample pressure. 

His tongue starts to prod at the opening to the place in which you seemed to want him the most right now. The combination of his mouth and hands was too much and you felt your legs start shaking as you alerted Taeyong of your oncoming orgasm. “That’s it baby, cum for me. I want to see it.” 

You didn’t even know your voice could go as high as it did in that moment. Your labored breaths were halted as Taeyong pressed his wet lips to yours causing you to taste yourself on his lips. “You still up for that tour?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Highness, there have been reports of an outbreak of some sorts. For right now it’s small but we have no idea what it is or where it came from.” Doyoung says, ending his report on current events. 

“Okay, since this is something we have no prior dealings with we need to tread carefully. Get everyone who might be infected and make sure they’re getting proper care. Talk to them, see what their symptoms are and ask what they were doing before they got sick. Maybe we can try and piece together how you contract it.”  

“Should we alert the public, Your Highness?” 

“No, not for now at least. This is still manageable. We don't want to scare everyone for no reason.” Finishing up his duties, Taeyong starts to head to your house. 

You had yet to talk to Taeyong about what happened that day despite having seen each other multiple times since then. Not like you regretted it or anything you just felt bad about Taeyong servicing you and you not being able to return the favor. You were interrupted in the middle of your naughty thoughts when you heard soft knocks ring against the door not to the pharmacy but to your house placed on the side of the pharmacy. 

Answering the door you only expected to see one person on the other side of the door. “Hi Taeyong.” you breathe softly gazing at the male opposite you. 

“Hello my rose.” placing a kiss on his lips you let him enter the room. Taeyong pulls two books out from his bag and you hurriedly rush over to where Taeyong sits on your bed grabbing your book as Taeyong pulls you onto his lap. Reading for a while your mind can’t help but to go back to what happened. 

Taeyong can feel the air in the room change as you squirm on his lap. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” 

“Uhh nothing Yongie.” 

Grabbing a hold of your waist Taeyong lowers his head to your ear, “It doesn’t feel like nothing darling.” His warm breath hits your ears as he slowly lets his tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the shell of your ear. 

“I- just want to pleasure you as well. Last time you only focused on me and I want to return the favor.” you speak turning around in the male’s lap legs wrapping around his waist. You bring the male into a feverous/feverish? Kiss. You hear his breath hitch as you slowly grind down onto his semi hard dick, and you feel the grip he has on your waist tighten. 

Moving yourself to Taeyong’s thigh instead of his entire lap. You maneuver his pants off leaving his boxers on. You slip your hand between your bodies reaching for Taeyong’s boxer clad cock. Lightly squeezing while massaging his length you lean forward gingerly planting kisses along his neck swirling your tongue on each spot you kiss. 

“Shit Y/n.”

“You want me to take it out, Yongie? Do you want me to wrap my hands around your hard dick and rub you till you cum all over my hands.” you tease applying more pressure to his hard appendage, “Hmm maybe I’ll even let you watch me lick your cum off of my hands.” 

“Oh Fuck yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound like begging to me baby.” 

“Hmm please baby, please take it out and make me cum.”

You grin, squeezing his now fully hard cock harder, “Well since you asked so nicely.”  Your hand moves to the band of his boxers removing the clothing. His erect penis pops up, slapping the male’s clothed abdomen after finally being released.

You let a few drops of spit fall onto the palm of your hand before giving Taeyong what he wants, gripping him. You slowly start to work your hand up and down his stiff cock fluctuating the strength you use to grip it.

“How does that feel Tae? Are you enjoying yourself sweetheart?” you whisper in his ear speeding up your ministrations. A broken moan falls from the semi pouted lips of the emperor. The feel of your hand gripping his cock felt like heaven he could barely think. 

The slick sound of your hand going up and down his dick was all that could be heard throughout the room. Taking your other hand you begin to not only stroke his length but also fondle his balls. “Ah, Y/n I’m not going to last much longer please make me cum.” Wanting to give him what he wanted you run the pad of your thumb along the underside of him and slowly massage the bundle of nerves just under the head. 

As soon as you do, a whimper leaves Taeyong’s lips as his head falls forward resting on your shoulder. His mouth starts sucking on any pieces of exposed skin he can find and you feel him mumble against your shoulder, “I’m cumming.” His warm release falls onto your hands covering them as you try to squeeze out every last drop. Raising your hand to your mouth you lick some of the cum off of your hand tasting him. 

“Fuck sweetie you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Taeyong. It’s gotten worse. The illness has started spreading; our attempt at keeping it contained was a failure. While it did slow the spread, it did nothing to stop it.”

Slamming his hand on the desk Taeyong couldn’t help but to curse, “Fuck! Did you at least figure out how it’s contracted and its symptoms?” 

“Yes, after questioning the patients it became pretty clear that it wasn’t contracted in any specific way. Almost all have reports of having been in public settings surrounded by a lot of people and said a few days later they caught a pretty nasty cold. Instead of it going away like a normal cold does, it started to get worse, pretty soon they couldn't move at all, not even lift a finger. After developing hot flashes, they start to lose the ability to speak, and you know they are about to die when they start to have rashes appear upon their skin.” 

“Have you asked the doctors if they can find a cure?” 

“Yes, we have already put them onto it, but for now there is nothing.”

Thinking about what he should do, Taeyong's hand comes up to scratch his jawline. He knows that he has to alert the public of the outbreak now. “Okay, since there is no discernible way in which they get it, we can assume for now that it is passed from excessive human contact. Doyoung, I need you to release a statement stating that there should be no excessive contact between everyone. If able to avoid big crowds then stay away.” 

Writing the commands down in a notebook, Doyoung asks, “Anything else?” 

“Yes, since it has gotten a lot bigger now, the public must be alerted, even though by now I am sure they have each heard their own variations of what’s happening. It’s better to tell them the truth than lie. We need everyone to be fully informed with correct information so that they don’t make things worse.” A tired sigh falls from his lips, “Release a doctor’s statement. I want the royal doctor to make a statement that will tell the public all they need to know about this new illness so they can protect themselves.”

“On it, Your Highness.” Doyoung says, turning around and quickly heading out the door. You were supposed to come visit Taeyong today. He's glad he gets to see you. You always make things better for him. You walk into Taeyong’s office to him writing something in a notebook. He was so involved in what he was writing that he didn’t hear you come in.  

“Hey Yongie.” Walking over to the male, you see him raise his head from the paper, looking at you with a dazzling smile. 

“Hello, beautiful.” Taeyong pulls you into his lap, “How was your day, my rose?” You start rambling on about what was going on at the pharmacy, and Taeyong finds himself zoning out looking at you talking animatedly about a customer you had today. It’s times like these where Taeyong realizes he could never live his life without you. 

Taeyong has been really busy lately, dealing with the disease outbreak. You guys have hardly seen each other. New word had been put out about the disease after one of the people who are believed to have gotten it first were found. Sadly they were on their last string, but their family said something about them eating a strange fruit some odd days before they had gotten sick. 

Business for you has practically skyrocketed, people hurrying to get all types of medicines just out of plain fear that they might contract the disease. Even though there is no cure yet, they still think that arthritis medicine will somehow help them. 

You had secretly been working on your own attempt at creating a cure, wanting to help Taeyong and get some of the pressure off of his shoulders and wanting to help the people affected by this disease. Of course it has gotten nowhere, but at least you try. 

You had asked Taeyong what the fruit that their family said they ate looked like in hopes of being able to find it and base an antidote off of that. He gave you the same description they gave him, but it didn’t lead anywhere. Noticing how empty the pharmacy had become, you felt it was the perfect time to go pick up some bread. 

Flipping the sign and locking the door you head towards the bakery. Ever since the decree had been made for people to not group together, the streets had been the emptiest you had ever seen. Walking in, you couldn’t help but notice the other people that stood around talking waiting on their baked goods. Putting in your order, you stand off to the side. 

“You know, they say that Emperor Taeyong has caught the disease.”

“What?! You can’t be serious.” 

“Why would I joke about something like that?” the first lady says, looking well over offended. “I have a friend who has a cousin who has a brother who has a boyfriend that works in the palace.” 

“Woah, so you basically know the emperor.” 

“Exactly. I swear on it, the emperor has the disease.” You proceed to tune out the gossiping women on the other side of the room. You know that there’s a good chance the lady is lying, but what if Taeyong has the disease? He hasn’t come to visit in a few days. You feel your chest constrict at the mere thought. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t hear the baker telling you your order is ready until after she walks up to you and hands you your bread. “Oh, uhh thank you.” Giving the lady a small nod, you walk out of the bakery.

When you get back to the house, you check for mail and find some in the mailbox next to your door. Picking it up, you notice the royal insignia on the envelope. Figuring it’s from Taeyong, you instantly start to tear it open.

Hello my rose, I don’t know how to say this to you, but I’m sick, really sick. I got the disease. I’m so sorry darling. Worst of all is I can’t even see you. I absolutely forbid you from coming here. Do you hear me? From now until we meet again, we can communicate by letter. I love you so much, my rose. 

Love, Your Yongie

As your mind slowly starts to register the note, your knees instantly give out, bringing you to the floor of your living room. You can barely register the sting from the impact. You couldn’t help but let out a broken gut-wrenching cry. Your tears feel like fire as they run down your face. You clutch your heart; it’s as if you can feel it breaking. 

Everyday Taeyong sends you a letter and everyday you put it in the pile with the others. It broke your heart every time you would put the letters unopened together with the others and never wrote a response back, but recently you had thrown your entire being into finding a cure for the disease. You couldn’t risk another breakdown like when you first found out, because every single second matters. 

Every second you spend trying to find a cure brings you closer to a forever with Taeyong, and you couldn’t risk that. You still open and run the pharmacy like normal, but even then you spend all of your time asking customers everything they know about the disease and whatever anyone they knew who had it was going through. 

Lately, the way you’ve been going at it was to find the fruit that supposedly started it all and find out why the human body reacts so badly to it. You just managed to find it yesterday while you were out in the forest for the third time hunting for it. You were planning to do some tests and see what you possibly can do. 

A series of harsh knocks rain upon the pharmacy door and the irritation at the possible customer shows on your face. “I’m sorry but we’re clo–” Your sentence stops abruptly as Doyoung harshly shoves past you, the anger and tension in his body evident.

“You know, you have some fucking nerve. Taeyong is literally dying right now, he is fucking dying yet he still manages to write you everyday. And on days when he can’t muster the strength he gets someone to write what he says.” Whipping his body around he faces you, face scrunched in a horrendous snarl, “And you can’t even take the time to write a fucking letter back. All you do is sit in this pharmacy and play in your stupid garden all day.”

It’s then that he notices the pile of letters sitting neatly on your desk, a scoff pushes its way past his lips, “Oh my fucking god, you didn’t have the decency to even open them. Have you ever even loved him? Tell me. Honestly.” He stares directly into your eyes, the fire in them seemingly endless. “Or was he just some toy? A part in some plan you had to get rich and become an empress or some shit. Did you just use my best friend for your own selfish reasons?” 

Your mouth opens, preparing to say something only for it to close again. Repeating that process multiple times you find out that there were no words you could say that would satisfy him. “And it’s funny because if that was your plan, then it worked. I know you don’t know but Taeyong planned to propose, he wanted–no, wants to spend the rest of his life with you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but oh well.” At his statement, your mouth falls open again, leaving you utterly speechless. 

A moment of silence passes and a heavy sigh from the male fills the air. He stares tiredly at your desk, exasperated. “He’s dying, simple as that. Doctor says he doesn’t have much longer before the rashes start popping up. His estimate was at most two weeks.” With his face angled away from you, the tears that streamed down his face weren’t visible. “Do what you will with that information. I don’t have the time for this.” 

Turning his body, Doyoung walks out the door, leaving a chill in the air. You don’t even have it in you to cry. Your sorrow runs farther than any river in the world, yet the thought that kept you from breaking down was Taeyong’s smile. Then you realized you would never be able to see it again if there was no cure. Swiping  away the tears that managed to fall, you get back to work. Taeyong wasn’t going to die on your watch. 

Your chest felt so tight, like it was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs. You could barely feel the shock of your heavy footfalls on the pavement as you ran like your life depended on it. The steps to the palace have never seemed longer as you ran, hoping you made it in time. Passing guards all were blurs as you swore you were running at the speed of light. 

Making your way to Taeyong’s room, you see a distraught Doyoung crouched outside of the door. His silent cries cued your heart to fall to your aching feet. Barely able to get the words out you ask, “Am I too late, is-is he g-gone?” Your voice broke as you spoke those words. Doyoung doesn’t say anything as he silently raises his head to look at you. “I can’t be late. I-I found it, I found the cure. I have the cure to save Taeyong.” 

Not able to withstand Doyoung’s gaze, you burst through the king’s bedroom doors, instantly spotting the palace doctor at his bed. Taeyong lays lifelessly on the bed, chest barely managing to move up and down. This was not the Taeyong you knew, not the man you fell in love with. This man was just but a shell of him. You had never seen his skin so pale, his face sunken in to the point where you can easily see his cheekbones you loved to rain kisses on. 

“Doctor.” Your gaze shifts from the sleeping male to the doctor beside him, “He’s not… dead, is he?”

“No, not yet, but I do recommend you give your last goodbyes.” 

Walking up the man, you forcefully push the vial containing the cure into his hands, “Here, this is the cure.” Broken stutters leave the man's mouth as he questions the integrity of your statement. “Listen, we don’t have a lot of time; just trust that it will work. I have tested it on five different people, all of varying ages, and four out of five of those people survived. The only reason the fifth didn’t was because they were too far gone.” 

You update the doctor on what the antidote is and what it does. “The antidote is not a cure per say, it doesn’t get rid of the disease. I studied the fruit that the disease stems from and something in the DNA of it, let's just say it doesn't agree with something in our DNA, which causes basically an allergic reaction times 100. This antidote soothes the part of our DNA that reacts so badly, and that in turn stops the allergic reaction so that it doesn’t kill us. Now that I’ve wasted time explaining that to you, can we please get the antidote in his system?”

All of your talking caused the sickly emperor to awaken to your voice in the room with him. “Y/n, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to not come here. I-” 

“Taeyong, calm down, baby, please. I am here to save you.” You nod to the doctor giving him the go for the injection. “The doctor is about to inject the cure for the disease into you, then you’re going to get better for me, okay?”

After administering the shot, Taeyong had fallen asleep again from lack of energy. It had been 10 hours and you sat every single one on his bedside, wanting to be the first to see him. In those 10 hours, you told the doctor how to make more of the cure so that he could get it to everyone, and Doyoung finally came into the room after hearing what you had done, and gave you a proper apology for snapping at you. 

You feel a hand grip yours, and you snap your head up to see Taeyong looking back at you with a smile as big as he could conjure right now placed on his face. Quickly handing him some water, you start to question how he feels. Telling you he feels the best he has in weeks was good enough to satiate you for now. 

When Taeyong had finally convinced you to lay in bed with him, you chose this moment to give him his answer. 

“Yes.” A look of confusion covers Taeyong’s face as he wonders what you are saying yes to. “Yes, I will marry you.”  

You and Taeyong decided not to have a huge wedding, instead choosing to hold a ceremony with just a few of your closest friends, but you did have to present yourself to the empire now as the new empress.

“Are you ready, my rose?” Taeyong asks, walking up behind you in front of the mirror, enclosing his arms around your waist. You turn around to look at him directly, taking in his attire. 

“Why do you have such a heavy robe?” you question, noticing the heavy piece of clothing. You’d always wondered that whenever you would see him out of the palace. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Taeyong plants a kiss upon your cheek, “I-I don’t know it’s just customary, I never thought to change it.”

“Well, for my first decree as empress, I declare that you get a new robe, a lighter one.” you say, dusting the imaginary dust off of his shoulders. “You don’t need to have such a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can tell it weighs you down. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Will do, my empress. Come, we have to go now.” 

It was getting to the last leg of the parade the citizens held in your honor. You felt so welcome by everyone. You were expecting people to hate you because you weren’t already a royal before you married Taeyong. “How are you holding up, darling? I know these things can take a lot out of people.”

“I am fine, my love, just slightly tired.” You can’t help but wave at every person you see, feeding off of their enthusiasm. Overcome with emotion, Taeyong can’t help it when he cradles your face in his hands, lowering his head whilst tilting yours to give him room, and plants a loving kiss upon your cheek. Your cheeks were on fire at his public display of affection in front of everyone, yet you found yourself fully indulging in the kiss, closing your eyes in hopes of savoring the moment. The kiss caused an uproar within the crowd, the citizens ecstatic at the relationship between you both. 

“Taeyong, what was that earlier today? Why’d you kiss me?” 

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it when I saw you and how happy you looked waving at everyone,” he explains pulling you into another kiss, but this time on the lips. Slowly the kiss becomes heated and you start pawing at each other's clothes, almost ripping them off. Taeyong plants kisses along your neck as you begin to fondle his soft manhood. 

You feel Taeyong’s hand slide to your cunt rubbing your clit, “Looks like someones already ready for me. I wonder who made you this wet sweetie.” he taunts, slowly pressing one finger inside of you then a second curving them up and spreading them out in order to stretch your tight hole. Your low breathy moans fill the room bouncing off of each and every wall. 

Pretty soon you both are ready, blindly walking yourself to the bed you land on the soft cushion with an oomph. Taeyong slowly grinds his now hard cock up and down your slit puposely prodding at your clit. You wriggle your hips silently begging the male to hurry up and put it in. 

Giving into you because he was just as excited Taeyong finally slides himself in, his stiffness getting completely engulfed by your wet hot cavern. “Mmm, I’ll never get used to how well your needy pussy takes me in baby.” His slow thrusts simultaneously scratching that itch but just enough to make it come back for more.

“Harder Tae, I need to feel you wreck me.” Granting your wish taeyong stops the gentle loving strokes, swapping them out for a harsher more unforgiving thrusts. His hips smack yours as Taeyong puts what feels like all the power he has in his thrusts. You close your eyes and see stars as Taeyong fucks your soul out of you. His hands have an unforgiving grip on your waist, one going up to massage your breast, teasing your nipple.

Taeyong starts laying kisses along your body leaving purple spots in his wake. “ I want everyone to see that you are mine and I am yours forever and always.” Whispering in your ear, “Go ahead and cum for me baby, let everyone know what we’re doing so they can see who you belong to.” 

You all but scream Taeyong’s name out in pure ecstasy as you cum the hardest you ever have to date. It felt as if you had been transported to another world. Taeyong cums right behind you filling you to the brim with his seed. “It’s a little too late to say this now but I think it’s about time we start thinking about children.” He says pulling himself out of your now swollen lower region. 

“Oh my god shut up, I hate you,” you cry, out rolling your eyes

“I love you too, my rose.” 

[blueskrugs]

Turning Out | Jack Hughes

long story short: I made myself extremely emotional with this song, told @nazdaddy about it, and together we made it worse. over two months later, this fic was finally born. title from the AJR song of the same name. (are we really surprised it’s a song fic at this point?)

tagging:  @marcoscandellas​ @stlbluesbrat21​ @dembenchboys​ @poltoncarayko​ @robthomissed​ @letmeplaytheblues​ @troubatrain​ @ayohockeycheck​ @blackwidowrising​ @aria253264​ @antoineroussel​ @starswin​ @glassdanse​ @ch-ristiane​ @majdoline​ @nazdaddy​ @hockey-more-like​ @thebestoffanfiction​

length: 3.6k

I thought I'd recognize when love was true But I'm confused

It was summer in Michigan, and you were laying in the hammock in the backyard with Jack. You could feel your nose getting burned, and you were sure his was already on its way to burnt, too. School was out, the summer stretching endlessly before you. 

Well. There was the matter of the draft. It was only a couple of weeks away now, and all conversations led back to it.

“I’m proud of you,” you murmured during a lull in conversation. Your head was on Jack’s chest, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other behind his head.

He laughed. “Wait until I actually get drafted by someone first, eh?”

You scoffed and twisted to look up at his face. He was blushing. “Okay, sure, whatever, Mr. Hotshot Top Prospect,” you teased, reaching up to poke Jack right beneath his arm where he was ticklish. He flinched, and the hammock swung wildly.

Jack grabbed onto your hand and wrenched it away from his side, tightening his other arm around your shoulders.

“You’re so mean to me,” he complained, but he was grinning at you. He didn’t let go of your hand. 

“I mean it, though,” you said.

“God,” Jack groaned. “Stop it.”

It wasn’t that the draft was a sore subject, exactly, but you knew Jack was getting more than a little tired of hearing about it constantly. You just couldn’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Are you gonna forget about me once you’re off in some big city, being an NHL star?” you asked. 

Jack scoffed a little and wrinkled his nose at you. “I could never forget about you, Bug,” he said softly.

Bug. You called each other that, had for years, but you’d mostly grown out of it. It was nice to hear it again. You poked Jack again, for no real reason, just to get him to squirm, maybe.

“You mean it?” you asked, just as softly. The birds and cicadas were loud around you, but you two were in a little bubble of your own in your hammock.

Jack scoffed again. “You’re my best friend. We’re gonna be together forever,” he said.

Forever was a long time, but Jack sounded so confident, so sure of the future, that you let yourself believe him. 

Am I ready for love Or maybe just a best friend

You might’ve cried a little as you watched Jack get called first overall, but you were still in Michigan while they were all off in Vancouver, so there was no one to call you out on it. Jack texted you almost immediately, just a row of exclamation points, which made you laugh. He called you later, too, but you couldn’t hear much over Turcs and Cole yelling. 

With the craziness of it all, you ended up having to wait to have a real conversation with Jack until after he was back in Michigan, and he ended up at your front door, looking a little like he hadn’t slept since before the draft. 

“Hey, you,” you said, but Jack was already stepping forward and pulling you into a hug, burying his face in your neck, despite the fact that he was definitely taller than you. “Wanna go on a walk?” you asked him. 

Jack grinned and nodded eagerly at you, which is how you ended up strolling through the familiar streets of your neighborhood, not really talking, just a comfortable silence between you. 

Until you got to the local park and Jack flopped down in the grass with a sigh. You laid down next to him, looking up at the white clouds skidding across the blue late-June sky. 

“I thought I’d feel different for some reason, you know?” Jack said finally. “Like being drafted first would change me somehow or something.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our Jacky,” you told him, just for the way he rolled his eyes at you. Still the same Jack, same blue eyes and floppy hair, same kid you’d known for years. Jack was still looking at you, serious in a way he never was, and you just wanted him to smile again, because then everything still would be the same. “Jack,” you said, made him look at you. 

“You know I love you, right?” Jack blurted, and the words you’d been about to say died on your tongue.

You were going to say that nothing had to change, but maybe you were wrong. You’d fallen in love with your best friend a long time ago, but you’d long since resigned yourself to being nothing more than a best friend. It was easier to keep him in your life that way, rather than risk ruining everything.

“Duh, you’d be lost without me,” you joked instead. It made Jack smile, just for a moment.

Jack sat up then, leaning his weight back on his hands so he could keep looking up at the sky. “I wish you could come with me,” he said quietly.

You sat up and mirrored Jack’s pose. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” you tried to joke. It fell flat. You weren’t really sure you knew how to get through life without Jack by your side. Maybe it would be a good thing to get some distance, actually. 

Jack was staring at you. You couldn’t read his face. It turned out that you didn’t need to, because the next thing you knew, Jack was leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. It was a quick kiss, and you’d barely had time to react before Jack was pulling away again.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, but he looked more apologetic than regretful. 

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

“It’s not fair,” Jack said, and you weren’t sure where this conversation was going anymore. “We’re gonna be so far apart, and you deserve better.”

You were at a point in your life where you were expected to be more grown up, but Jack had never looked younger. You had never felt more lost. 

“I just don’t wanna break your heart,” Jack said. It was a little late for that, you thought, but you didn’t say that. 

“Yeah,” you murmured finally, which didn’t really make sense, but Jack accepted it. 

He laid back down in the grass next to you, and after a minute of watching him yourself, you laid next to him again.

You say I turned out fine I think I'm still turning out

The first time you visited Jack in New Jersey was over Christmas his rookie year. He picked you up at the airport, wrapping you up in a hug like no time had passed at all. He took you back to his apartment, and it was like you were in high school again.

You went to the game the next night, and meeting everyone else was mostly a blur of names and faces.  It wasn’t until you were all heading down to the family room after the final buzzer that you realized that you didn’t know who Isabella, who’d been talking to you all night, was dating. You never quite got the chance to ask, either, but it didn’t matter in the end. Jack emerged from the locker room and made a beeline for you and Isabella. He gave you a quick hug before turning to Isabella and giving her a hug and a kiss.

Ah, so that’s how it was. You felt your heart stop in your chest, but you forced on a smile and let Jack wrap an arm around each of your shoulders. You’d been expecting this, you could handle it. 

You loved Jack, and he loved you, just not in the same way. He’d fall in love with someone else, and you’d get used to it eventually.

When Jack called you a few months later and told you they’d broken up, you comforted him, tried to pretend that you weren’t a tiny bit happy. You just reminded yourself that there would always be someone else.

I hope you stick around We're gonna figure it out Who can I turn to now?

Your phone was ringing. It was late, and there was only one person your phone rang for after midnight. You fumbled for it in the dark, eyes still heavy with sleep, and answered it without looking at the screen. 

“Hi,” you said, or tried to say. Your voice hadn’t quite woken up with the rest of your body yet. You rolled onto your back, blinked up at the dark ceiling.

You heard Jack let out a sigh on the other end of the line. “I woke you up,” he said. He sounded tired.

The Devils were somewhere on the West Coast, and you’d fallen asleep before the game had ended. You probably didn’t want to know.

“I hadn’t been asleep very long,” you lied. Jack made a noise like he definitely didn’t believe you. 

It was quiet for a moment. Then, “Did you watch?” 

“No,” you admitted. 

Jack huffed. It might have been a laugh, except you knew your best friend, and he was fighting to keep his voice from breaking. “Good,” he told you.

“You should stay off Twitter,” you said mildly, and this time Jack did laugh at you, but there wasn’t any humor behind it.

You’d seen the comments, the tweets, the articles. You know Jack saw them, too, stayed up too late reading them, even when you all told him not to. Jack Hughes: first overall draft pick, USNTDP scoring phenom, underdeveloped, too small, and, well, a bust. 

“What if they’re right, though?” Jack said quietly. You wondered if he was in his hotel room, curled up against his pillows, trying not to wake his roommate, or if he’d wandered out into the hall, found somewhere to be alone. 

“Oh, Bug,” you said. It slipped out really, but you heard Jack’s shaky breath. You didn’t know the last time you’d called him that. 

“I miss you,” Jack blurted. You wiped at your eyes. The Devils had hit Detroit just before healing west, and you’d made the trip down to see them. It had only been a few days. But this was more than not seeing each other for a while. It was growing up too fast, the world changing whether or not you were ready for it, not realizing that everything was different until it was too late. 

You missed Jack, missed seeing him every day, trying to help each other with homework and then laughing too hard to actually get anything done. You missed hockey games and the certainty that you’d be friends forever. Forever was a long time when you were young and naïve. 

You tried not to think too much about forever these days, or how you’d still turn to say something to Jack, even though he hadn’t been by your side in a long time. He didn’t need to know any of that.

“I miss you, too,” is what you said, feeling it aching in your chest. Your eyes burned, and it wasn’t because you were tired. 

I'm a little kid, and so are you Don't you go and grow up before I do

He was always the first person you called. When you failed a test, when you were sick, when you got your heart broken.

You hadn’t stopped to think about where Jack might be, and you panicked a little when the phone rang endlessly. You were about to hang up and give up when Jack answered, just before it went to voicemail.

“What’s up?” He sounded like he’d been laughing, and it was loud around him. You were pretty sure you could pick out P.K.’s loud voice.

He was out with his team, having fun, and you were crying alone over a broken heart. You shouldn’t have called.

“Never mind, you’re busy,” you said, already pulling the phone away from your ear to hang up. You didn’t need to bother Jack with this, not now.

“Wait, wait,” Jack stopped you. He paused, and you heard a door close, and then it was quieter. “I always have time to talk to you,” he said, and you cried harder. “Hang on, are you crying? What happened?”

You took a steadying breath. Tried one last time to get the tears under control. “He broke up with me, Jack.”

Jack swore under his breath. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he told you.

It hadn’t been a great relationship to begin with, you’d always known that. There was no real future in it, but it had been fun for a while, something to distract yourself from the fact that the guy you really wanted to be with was on the other side of the country. But it had fallen apart, just like it always did. Somehow it had still blindsided you, in spite of the missed calls and blown off dates, which is how you found yourself shattered on your bedroom floor now.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could rely on Jack to pick up the pieces.

“Talk to me,” Jack said quietly, and you choked back another sob.

“I hate this,” you murmured. Hated being so far away from your best friend, hated crying over a guy you didn’t even love. “I miss you so much,” you added. You felt like you’d been saying that more than anything since Jack had been drafted. 

Jack hummed, distracted. You could still hear his teammates yelling somewhere on the other side of the door. “You should come visit,” Jack said after a moment. 

You laughed. There was no way you’d be able to drop your life and fly out to New Jersey, no matter how badly you might’ve wanted to. It just didn’t work like that.

“I should let you get back to the guys,” you said instead of answering. Jack made a protesting noise on the other end of the line, but you hung up before he could get a word in. 

I'm a little kid with so much doubt Do you wanna be there to see how I turn out?

Your cap and gown hung on the back of your bathroom door. You stared into the mirror for a minute before you reached to tug them on. It felt strange to be graduating college. You still felt out of your depth most days, and now you were being let loose upon the world. Supposedly you were ready for it now. You weren’t sure you’d ever be ready, really.

You searched the crowd for your parents as you made your way to your seat. You had hoped Jack would’ve come, too, but he’d hit you with some excuse about how he’d still be stuck in Jersey. You tried to pretend like it hadn’t hurt. 

The graduation itself passed in a blur. You hadn’t tripped over anything when you’d gone to collect your diploma, and honestly that was all that mattered. 

You were searching for your family in the madness outside when you heard a voice yell, “Hey! Bug!”

You spun around, clutching your cap to your head so it didn’t fall off. There was only one person who’d ever called you that. Jack was making his way towards you through the crowd, hair windswept and smile bright. 

“Jack!” you yelled back, already launching yourself at him. He caught you easily, sweeping you up in a tight hug. You buried your face in his neck, no longer caring if your cap fell off. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Jack pulled back to give you a look. “You didn’t really think I’d miss your graduation, did you?” You shrugged, and Jack frowned a little at you. He bent over to pick up your fallen cap. “You dropped something,” he said, but when you reached to take it from him, he just grinned and shoved it on his own head. It was crooked, and the tassel was falling in his face. “C’mon, your parents are over here,” he told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you along with him. 

“I’m proud of you,” Jack said later that night, laying next to you on your bed. The TV was on, but neither of you were really watching it. 

“I’m supposed to say that about you,” you said, poking him in the ribs. The Devils had had a good season, led to the first round of the playoffs by Nico and Jack. (They’d gotten their asses kicked, but they’d made it.)

He squirmed away and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and resting them both on his chest. “Whatever,” he scoffed. “You’re all smart and graduated now,” he told you.

It was your turn to scoff. “That doesn’t mean I know what the fuck I’m doing.” Jack turned to look at you, one arm behind his head, and you were suddenly reminded of a moment just like this, so many years before, with the summer and the rest of your lives stretching out before you. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” you admitted. With life, but also right here, lying in bed with your best friend. 

Jack turned fully, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His hair flopped in his face, and you reached up absently to push it back. 

“You should come to New Jersey,” he said, face dead serious. It was far from the first time he’s said that to you. You’d always laughed or brushed it off, unwilling to admit that, while terrifying, back by Jack’s side was the only place you’d dreamed of being for years. 

“I-” you started. You didn’t know what was going to come next. Jack was still staring down at you. You reached up to poke the mole next to his mouth, just to see if you could get him to smile.

He did, but he batted your hand away before you could do it again. “I mean it,” he said. You rolled your eyes. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you said. You tried to roll away from Jack, away from this conversation, but he grabbed your wrist, settled his weight on your legs so you couldn’t escape. 

He was frowning at you. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Jack’s frown deepened, and the crease between his eyebrows was frustratingly adorable. “I’m your best friend. And that was enough while I was in school, and you were still trying to figure out the NHL.” Jack did let you roll away from this time, and you curled up against the wall, not meeting his eyes. “But I don’t think I can be in the same city as you, watching as you find some pretty girl to fall in love with until you leave me behind. I don’t think I can watch as you become everything I want for someone else.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” Jack said slowly.

You huffed out a sigh. “Not now, maybe. But there will be.” There always would be, for you and for him. 

Jack rolled his eyes at you, and that hurt a little. “There hasn’t been anyone else for me but you, not for a long time, not really,” Jack told you.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry. You were pretty sure he’d had a girlfriend at the beginning of the season this year. It had been years since that day he’d kissed you in the park, long enough that you nearly forgot about it. You didn’t think his feelings had really changed after all these years.

“Don’t give me that look,” Jack said, flicking you on the leg. “I mean it. It just- we were still kids and then I was off in Newark, and one of us always seemed to be dating someone else, and I could never ask you to just fucking move across the country for me-” Jack was rambling, and you cut him off by poking him with your toes. He grabbed onto your foot and looked up at you. “I’m not sure I know how to love anyone else but you,” he admitted.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” you asked. You reached over to grab a pillow so you could hit Jack with it. He spluttered and looked offended. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Jack.”

Jack’s face softened. “Did you listen to anything I just said? I had reasons!” he tried, but he was grinning at you now.

“Please just come here and kiss me,” you said.

Jack didn’t need any convincing, and then he was leaning forward and tangling a hand in your hair to pull you in for a kiss. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours to catch his breath; you whacked him with the pillow one more time for good measure.

“Hey! What was that one for?” Jack asked, already trying to wrestle the pillow away from you.

“Got a lot of years to make up for, Jacky,” you said.

Jack gave up on getting the pillow away from you and settled for pinning you to the bed with his hands on your wrists. You kneed him gently in the ribs. 

“I hate you,” Jack sighed, but you knew him too well for that. The look on his face was just fond. You’d seen that look a lot over the years, and now you were realizing that there was something else to it. Love.

“Nah, you don’t,” you said.

Jack smiled at you and bent down to kiss you again. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I could never.”

[suneatersupportsquad]

red handed; colby brock

request:  im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons​

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.” 

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

.x

[henqtic]

learning- d.m

- summary: one where Draco learns how to do your hair, you being a poc- more specifically a black girl with curly hair :)

- word count: 1.4k

- warnings: mentions of being insecure about your hair

- more works with black/ poc readers → Hat & “just one more hour”

- masterlist | gif creds | taglist form |

——

“Draco I love you but— just not that much,” you said through a grimace, only making him roll his eyes again.

Draco was always one to offer you help on wash days, knowing how much time it took you to do all of that on your own and honestly, you appreciated that.

But today as the conditioner was getting combed through your hair, he brought up the idea of doing it for you— And no he didn’t mean the basic task of combing a product through your hair, but he meant actually doing it.

And it wasn’t that you thought he could... Of course not. And as dramatic as it sounds, you didn’t want to take the risk. What you mean by that is that Draco is someone you would classify as a mom friend.

Being called a mom friend wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it was one of those good titles that any person would want to have in a friend group. And even though Draco didn’t seem like the type, he was always that person to make sure everyone else was taken care of— even if it was in his own way.

It could vary from making sure everyone’s assignments were done in time to them eating enough and the really surprising one— comforting people.

And you could tell that he wasn’t completely comfortable or familiar with it but he tried his best when he needed to.

You had caught him many times in some corner trying to comfort some first year Slytherins a few days into the school year because they missed their parents and when he did see you, he’d give you a look of ‘this never happened’.

But being a mom wasn’t an easy job, there were times where’d they’d get angry because a kid had the great idea to draw on the walls instead of on the paper right beside them. And to say Draco fit that role perfectly was an understatement.

He once not only scolded Daphne for forgetting her sunscreen when you went on a trip to the beach but he also provided her a lengthy lecture on how she could’ve easily have gotten sunburned and we would’ve had to drive around with a flaky friend.

You couldn’t lie that it was amusing to see an adult get scolded by another adult like a five year old but to be on the receiving end didn’t sound too fun.

——

And you had to admit that sometimes you did miss that routine you had with your mom on early Sunday mornings.

She’d tell you to get the bucket of hair supplies and you’d take your place to sit in between her legs, allowing her to start combing and brushing your hair into whatever style she saw fit for the next few days.

The small conversations that were held between you and her weren’t important in any way— you couldn’t remember half of the words spoken now but it meant a lot to you in the sense that it was a calm- ish period for you and her to talk about mother and daughter things.

But every good thing just had to have a downside and this one was a shared experience amongst many people in your community.

Uncooperative hair.

And it seemed that you had one of the most. You tried, really, but you could never keep your head still or neck at a specific angle for too long, and that only led to hair tugging and you in almost tears.

And maybe thinking was a little flawed. But you were still scared that Draco would do just the same if you allowed him.

And that’s exactly what you voiced and of course, he said that wasn’t a good enough argument and continued to go on and on about all of the reasons you should let him and how it would have benefits for the both of you.

——

“You know, it would show how much I care,” he said, providing yet another reason as to why you should let him do it.

“You’re showing how much you care right now— I promise,” you assured, eyes skimming the bathroom to find the heated shower cap.

“But what if there’s a day where you’re too tired to do it and then I could do it all by myself?”

He was close to convincing you but he failed to remember the fact that there actually were days where you were too tired to do it but you still woke up very early just to do some style that you had set in your mind.

And even then, your eyes were barely opened so if you had to do it now, you would be too phased.

“What about our future kids? What’s supposed to happen when I have no idea how to do their hair?”

Kids. They weren’t something you actively talked about but it was for sure something you wanted to have in the future. And he was right, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

Even if the hair type that he had was far from many black people, it wouldn’t make sense for a child’s own father to not know the basic needs of their hair— including how to do it.

“Fine— but if I feel one tug I won’t hesitate to get up and leave,” you threatened, pointing a comb at him and playfully narrowing your eyes at him to add effect. He only snatched it out of your hand while smiling in success and happiness.

“You won’t regret it.”

Deja vu; it was the only term that could describe what you were feeling at this moment of finding yourself in between someone’s legs, waiting for them to do your hair.

And while Draco was a little clueless, it was cute. You really didn’t mean to laugh when asked what happened to one of the combs that were missing a third of its teeth, but the look of pure shock on his face was too funny for you to resist the laugh that bubbled out.

And telling the truth, the experience wasn’t half as bad as you expected it to be. There weren’t too many snags or tugs along the way or rough actions— it was calm and gentle. And having to assist him on what product to put on your hair and when to do it was rare.

It was heartwarming really, knowing that he had actually been paying attention when he’d sit there and watch you in the bathroom for an hour or so after your hair had been washed.

That he had been listening when you’d rant about how hard it was dealing with your hair and how it would never look the right way even though there is no right way for natural hair to look.

It was the pure knowledge that he actually meant the words he spoke to you that made you so happy; how he’d hold your face in both of his hands and tell how beautiful both you and your hair were and the only reason you should ever think about relaxing it was if you wanted to do it for yourself and not because it would be more accepted by judge full eyes.

It was nice to know that he wasn’t just saying those things because he felt some sort of obligation but that it came from the heart.

——

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you were looking at now; not only did your hair look moisturized but the style had come out somewhat good.

You were a little surprised and Draco noticed that too. “You look surprised,” he pointed out in a smug tone, eyes finding their way to look into your wide ones through the mirror. “I’m not surprised, I'm just— how did you do so well?” You questioned, body turning to face his.

“Love don’t tell me you— Di- Did you really doubt me?” He gasped, dramatically placing his right hand over his heart to further feign his ‘hurt’.

“Okay, I did doubt you in—”

gasp

“In the beginning, but now that I actually saw how you did, I regret it. And thank you for being willing to learn,” you continued, this time not getting interrupted by his dramatics.

“It was the least I could do for you,” he assured, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Me and your mum weren’t talking about your abnormally sized head for nothing.”

“Hey! My head is a perfectly normal size.” 

“Yeah alright,” he said unconvinced, cracking his knuckles and shaking his hand. “My hands had to pay the price too.”

“You're an idiot Draco—”

🏷 @90smalfoy @eunoniaa @dracosaccount @ambi-doo12 @sw33tgirl @ang9lic @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines​ @willowmores @turn-to-page-394-please​ @clownybrit @callmesasha @aguamvnti @dracosathenaeum​ @fives-cup-of-coffee @dracomalfoys-wh0re @lovecroftreads @sfdlm @marrymetheonott @becgggg @gwlvr @oh-my-mphfpc-fanfic-heart @draco-malfoys-significant-other

[ if I couldn't tag you, you need to check your privacy settings !! ]

Click here to be added to my taglist 

[amethystdarkwolf]

Broken

AU: X Ship: Poly of Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and Hitoshi Shinso (This was easier than typing out all the pairings) Prompt: X Requested by: X Warnings: Internalized Acephobia, mentions of sex, non con like elements (Nothing happens though it is mentioned), insecurities and fears of breaking up. If I missed any please let me know! Summary: Eijiro loved his partners. He loved them more than life itself. They were more than accepting of any eccentricities of each other, which is to be expected from a poly of seven different personalities. But he didn’t know if they would accept him when they realized he was broken. F/A/H-C: Hurt/Comfort POV: 3rd, following Eijiro. Word Count: 3,735 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Side Note: Hi, I’m finally back to writing fics, even though it’s for a different fandom now, it’s still something lmao. I may come back to writing Sanders Sides eventually but we shall see. Let me know what you think of it! And I hope you enjoy! 

They are all 3rd years and about to graduate UA! I wasn’t sure if that was considered an au or not but they are of legal age! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijiro knew there was something about him that was different from his other classmates. Originally he had just blamed all the weirdly delayed interest in any girls, moreso any talk of ‘hooking up’, on him being gay once he finally figured that out. 

But then the thoughts he thought he should have about guys, about doing things with guys never came either. He knew that he found guys attractive, obviously, he developed the biggest crush on two of the most powerful students in his class incredibly quickly after seeing both of their strengths, but whenever he thought about them, about being with them. Nothing sexual came from it. He’s a teenager he should be having these thoughts right? 

He heard Denki talking about some of the guys in the class at one point, saying how hot a few of them were. And, well, Eijiro could agree, however when Denki started going into more detail about what he saw in the locker room, the redhead went silent. He couldn’t see anyone like that, not even two of his most prominent crushes. Was there something wrong? 

He was not able to figure it out until their third year of high school. Now in a relationship that consisted of seven total. Polyamory was a thing introduced to him by Izuku once they had started dating and Eijiro realized he still had feelings for Katsuki after quite some time. He was overjoyed that Izuku had shown him that, moreso that he and Katsuki both agreed to it. 

Not too long later, Izuku realized his feelings for Shoto, and Denki. Eijiro came to these realizations himself later. Denki then had feelings for both Hanta and Hitoshi. After quite a while of this, everyone in the poly was dating everyone. Which made things both a little less complicated and a little more complicated. 

Eijiro loved his partners. He loved them more than life itself. They were more than accepting of any eccentricities of each other, which is to be expected from a poly of seven different personalities. 

But he didn’t know if they would accept him when they realized he was broken. 

He didn’t start off thinking like that. He just thought he was taking longer than everyone else to develop these kinds of feelings towards the others. Denki and Hanta using obviously suggestive flirting with one another while the group was together was to be expected. Then Hitoshi joined in, then Katsuki, Shoto, and eventually Izuku was making remarks that can and were meant to be taken in a not so innocent way. 

Eijiro laughed along with these jokes, he understood them and was fine with them. So he thought there was nothing wrong with him. It wasn’t until the words turned into actions that he came to the realization about himself. 

Katsuki and him were both incredibly physical with their fighting styles. So it’s only natural that every once in a while, their very playful spats would turn into wrestling matches in one of their rooms. 

It was later into the night, a majority of the students were either asleep or down in the common area. Eijiro smirked as he managed to pin Katsuki down onto the floor, his hands grabbed his wrists keeping them pinned beside his head, using his quirk to ensure they stayed there. Both of the boys were a little out of breath panting in eachother's faces. 

Eijiro wasn’t thinking about what position they were in. The fact that he was on top of Katsuki, kneeling on either side of the others lower body was lost on him. Until he realized Katsuki wasn’t continuing to struggle. As the pairs of red eyes met one another, Eijiro noticed the look in his partner’s. They were slightly darkened yet hazy. A look that he recognized instantly. 

The same look he had given Denki before he had pinned him against the wall, marked up his neck so much that the bruises were left for at least two weeks. There was probably more to that story that he hadn’t quite heard, or had subconsciously tuned out due to the nature of it. 

A sickening feeling of panic bubbled up in his stomach, along with a feeling of near disgust. The second he realized it, he jerked away, scrambling off of his boyfriend with a nervous laugh. “Ha! Gotcha, man!” He prayed Katsuki wouldn’t pick up on the tremble of his voice. Katsuki’s expression immediately changed from the look he had before, to one of confusion. He was silent as he seemed to examine the redhead. 

Eijiro had gotten really good at reading Katsuki’s expressions, but there was one he was never able to quite pinpoint. Katsuki’s blank expression. None of his normal anger that seemed to constantly reside on his face, no annoyance, no smugness, absolutely nothing. That was the expression most of his partners tended to worry about when it showed up, just because it was so unreadable. 

That was the expression Kirishima was met with after the confusion seemed to fade. 

“Right.” Katsuki mumbled. 

Eijiro glanced around the room quickly, looking for anything to change the topic or clear the awkward air around them. His eyes caught his bookbag and he grinned, “Oh hey, would you mind uh, helping me study again? I’m getting a little hung up on how some of the equations work.” Please work, please work, please work. 

It did and it didn’t. 

Katsuki hummed, the annoyance finally reading on his face once again. He knew something was up, but he knew that Eijiro was trying to hide it, he could tell. But despite that, he nodded, “Fine. What is it?” 

There was going to be a talk later. It was going to be asked, Eijiro could tell. But now it wasn’t happening. He could only hope that he would have some explanation once the talk did happen. 

---- 

He did come to an explanation. A much worse one than he hoped he would come to and in a much worse way. 

He thought he had it figured out. That he was just awkward about it since he had never tried it, the position he had gotten Katsuki in was weird and that’s all it was. Maybe it would stop being like that once he was prepared to take that step with his partners. They had all waited for one another to be ready before trying anything at all so he figured it would be fine.

That’s all he thought it was. 

Like Katsuki and Eijiro’s playful wrestling matches, Denki and him had something very similar. Only, they were often brought on by Kirishima winning in whatever game they were playing, and Denki tackling him, which led to more of a tickle fight than anything. Both laughing and giggling as they rolled around on the floor. 

Golden eyes met red ones once they calmed down, the electric boy was now above him. Easily Eijiro could push him off, but he was still too giddy from the childlike roll around they had just had to even think about it. Denki leaned down once he caught his breath, placing a small chaste kiss onto Eijiro’s lips. Another small laugh leaving him before he repeated the process. 

Eijiro was fine with this, this was sweet. He returned the kisses gladly, not at all complaining even when it progressed to a full makeout session. This didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. This didn’t make him have that feeling of panic and disgust. Maybe he was better now! Maybe he’s finally over whatever that was! 

He should have known not to be so hopeful. 

He leaned up on his elbows a little, feeling like he couldn’t get enough of his boyfriend’s kiss. He didn’t stop Denki when the other’s hands began to wander down his chest. This felt okay, this felt nice. This was just Denki being touchy. He was used to it. 

Until it wasn’t just that. 

Denki’s hand wandered down, down further past Eijiro’s stomach, as it made its way closer and closer, that feeling came back. Bubbling up much worse than last time, the thought came too quickly, the thought of any of his partners touching him like that, made him immediately tense up. Finally he was getting those thoughts he thought he should have been getting, but now instead of getting aroused by them, all he felt was that gross, uncomfortable and panicky feeling. 

He finally snapped out of his own thoughts when he felt a small shock course through him. He blinked a couple times, feeling hot tears falling down his face. His body was shaking, and in front of him, he saw those golden eyes again. Looking at him with so much worry. 

Eijiro drew his hand away from Denki’s wrist quickly. When had he grabbed him? “Eijiro!” He managed to register that his boyfriend was talking to him. It took him a moment longer to gather his voice enough to respond, “w-wh… what happened?” 

Denki looked even more confused, “You tell me! I-dude I would’ve stopped! You were just suddenly shaking and crying and you jerked my arm away from you! Are you okay?” 

Eijiro nodded after a moment, “Yeah, Yeah sorry, I just kinda freaked out I guess?” That was the only way he could explain it, though it was obvious enough that Denki knew that much. Denki’s expressions were much easier to read than Katsuki. Which only made it that much easier to see the confusion and worry now be joined by hurt. 

“Did… Did you not think I’d stop?” He sounded just as petrified as Eijiro felt currently. Eijiro shook his head immediately, “No! No! I mean-Yes! I knew you would have stopped! I trust you! I just wasn't thinking, I guess…? I don’t really know.” 

Denki nodded, seemingly content with that answer. “Okay, dude. Uh, do you wanna keep playing?” Gesturing over to the forgotten Switch. Eijiro smiled a little and nodded, “Yeah! Can’t wait to kick your ass again!” He said hitting his fists together. 

The blonde grinned, immediately returning back to his normal happy self. “Oh whatever! That last round was a total flub! Doesn’t count!” 

-- 

That night, Eijiro rested his head against his pillow, his mind racing through the events of the day. Something that hadn’t quite clicked in his head finally did. “I trust you” was what he had said in reassuring Denki. Which was true, he trusted all of his partners, he couldn’t have a relationship if he didn’t. 

But, if he couldn’t even bear the thought of the people he trusted with his life, he loved with all of his heart, to touch him like that… Then that wasn’t the problem. Being awkward and nervous wasn’t the explanation. Not being ready wasn’t the explanation. 

Finally he accepted it as tears came to his eyes. “I’m never going to be ready for it…” he murmured to himself. “I’m never going to want that.” 

It made sense, he had never liked the idea before, never thought about it before, and now that it was almost thrown in his face (On accident, Denki of course didn’t know he felt like this and Eijiro couldn’t blame him). He panicked. He wasn’t afraid of it. It didn’t make him nervous. It made him uncomfortable. 

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, as a sob left his mouth. He wasn’t like any of his partners, he wasn’t like anyone in the class, hell he didn’t even know if there was a possibility of anyone like him being at the school. He’s Broken.

 Quickly remembering that Katsuki was right next door, he grabbed a pillow, biting it in order to muffle himself. 

He was broken, he didn’t feel the things he was supposed to. He didn’t want the things his partners wanted. What most people consider a crucial part of a relationship he couldn’t even think about without feeling sick. 

It hurt, it hurt and ached every part of his being. His partners were all accepting, but they’ll want that. He’d be a horrible partner to deny them something that they’d consider important in the relationship. Why would they bother sticking with him if he wasn’t enough? If he couldn’t make them fully happy what was the point? 

How vividly he could imagine their faces made it so much worse. Izuku would smile softly, try to let Eijiro down slowly, probably even apologizing. Katsuki would be annoyed, thinking he wasn’t tough enough to handle it. Denki would think it was funny and ridiculous. Hanta would be confused, who wouldn’t want to have sex with their partners? Shoto wouldn’t really have any glaring expression, just a simple sigh of dissatisfaction, and Hitoshi would just roll his eyes, like Eijiro had been a waste of time. 

He was pretty sure he had torn open his pillow at this point, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He never wanted to see them like that. He never wanted to lose them just because he was broken. He was supposed to be unbreakable after all! He needed to fix it. There had to be some way to keep that from happening. 

A terrifying thought crossed his mind.

‘If I just force myself through it once, with one of them, and then it’ll be fine after that.’ 

It made him feel sick again, thinking about it. He wouldn’t want it, and he knew his partners would stop and question if they noticed how uncomfortable he was. He sniffled as he continued to debate on it, it would make him feel disgusting, gross and uncomfortable, but it would only be for a little while, and then after that, he could keep his partners, and make sure they’re happy. 

That’s what was most important. 

--- 

He made out a little plan, to try to get himself to go through with this. In his mind it was like training. Trying to think of what he thought of that day with Denki without tensing up. Or at least learning how to hide it. Trying to convince himself that ‘it’ll feel good. It’ll feel good.’ The shaking he wasn’t able to get under control, he could blame that on nervousness though, right? 

He knew which partner he was going to try to initiate this with. The one he had been with the longest. Izuku. He was so sweet, gentle and kind, but was incredibly strong and determined. It would feel safe, comfortable, right? It had to, it was Izuku. 

If Izuku said no, he would go to Katsuki, who he knew would have no problems taking the lead if he teased a little, he would be a lot more to deal with than Izuku though, but if it’ll work then he had to do it. If that didn’t work he would go to Denki, then Hanta, then Shoto and then Hitoshi. Hopefully, Izuku would say yes. He loved and trusted all of his partners, but it would be easiest to handle with Izuku. 

-----

It started off a lot like the other two mishaps. Just some playful roughhousing ending with Eijiro pinning Izuku. Eijiro tried desperately to hide any hint of feeling off, looking up to Izuku’s eyes quickly before kissing him. 

Izuku returned the kiss, and he was both a little surprised and not surprised at all that Izuku was the one to push it to a makeout session. He was hesitating a little and Izuku seemed to be enjoying this. Good. Good. He was doing good. 

He remembered what Denki did with his hands, how he touched him and tried to mimic that on Izuku as best as he could. The memory however, caused that feeling to bubble up again. As he began tracing Izuku’s thighs through the shorts he was wearing, an arm on his own stopped him. He swallowed and looked up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. 

“Ei…?” His voice was so soft and gentle. 

Eijiro pulled his hands away immediately, “S-sorry, was I-do you not want-I didn’t mean to-” Everything was crumbling. He could feel the barriers he put up beginning to crack and break. The feeling was only getting worse. He’d have to go to Katsuki. 

Izuku shook his head, “No! I-I do, want that! Just… you’re shaking…?” 

Eijiro gave a little fake laugh, “Ah! I’m just, kinda nervous, don’t wanna mess this up.” He lied through his teeth. Izuku smiled so gently again, “Don’t worry too much, it’s okay, I’m here.” he murmured comfortingly, the hand that had grabbed Eijiro’s forearm moved down to hold his hand. 

The redhead let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.” The sickening feeling only bubbled up once more once he continued. Now placing kisses down Izuku’s neck, while his hand went back to tracing up and down his boyfriend’s body. 

He could feel the trembling get worse. He tried to swallow down the panic that was trying to force itself through him as he scraped his teeth against Izuku’s neck. He reached a spot right where his neck and shoulder meet that made Izuku breathe heavier, and whine, right next to Eijiro’s ear. He had no chance. 

Hearing the sound was so different than just the touch. With the touch he could try to think of something else to keep from breaking, but with that noise it shot him right back. Making him realize exactly what he was doing. Exactly what he was about to force himself to do. It was too much. It was all too much. 

The barrier broke. 

The tears and sick feeling he had been trying to hold back now came in full force. He withdrew his hands from Izuku but kept his face in his neck for a moment as he let the tears fall. Izuku tensed under him. Strong arms immediately came to wrap around him. “Ei?” he asked again. His voice sounded so much more panicked than before.

Sounded like Denki did, concern, worry and panic.

Eijiro shook his head, “I-I’m… I’m so sorry, Izuku. I tried, I really did. But I can’t.” the words managed to get choked out between sobs. “I can’t do it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m broken.” 

He couldn’t see Izuku’s face, but with the silence he could only imagine what he had thought of when he first came up with this plan. The soft smile, ready to let him down slow. To end things with him. He deserved it anyways, for not being enough. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see it when he felt Izuku start to pull away.

Suddenly he was being picked up, and placed on the bed. “Ei… Look at me, please.” Izuku’s voice was shaking, that he wouldn’t pick up until later. But he didn’t need to. Once he finally managed to open his eyes and look at Izuku’s face. The thought of Izuku letting him down slow with that smile vanished instantly.  

Izuku had tears in his eyes too. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold him more at that moment. “Please, just breathe, okay? Then we can talk, I’m just confused.” He was more than confused. Eijiro could see it. But he accepted that for now. And slowly worked through calming himself down from the panic attack. 

He looked back at Izuku and nodded, “‘m okay to talk now…” 

Izuku smiled at him, genuinely luckily, and nodded back. “Okay, please tell me what you meant by that…?” 

Eijiro looked off to the side, not wanting to meet those sad green eyes again as he gathered his thoughts to explain. 

“I never, ever really, felt anything like that towards anyone. Whenever I’d get a crush, I couldn’t even imagine anything like that with them… This is just how I’ve been. And I just thought that eventually, I’d get those feelings. They didn’t come. And when I fell for all of you, I thought, okay maybe once I’m comfortable with them, maybe it’s just because I’m nervous at the thought of it that it was like that… But I am comfortable with all of you, I trust all of you.” 

He sniffled, rubbing at his eye as he could feel more tears threatening to spill. 

“I realized that I probably won’t ever want to do anything like that. Or be comfortable with it. Even when it came to you guys, any thought of that I felt… Gross and uncomfortable and panicky. But, I know a lot of people, most people say that that is an important part in a relationship. And-And I didn’t… Didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend. I want you guys to be happy and satisfied and content and… all of that… and if you all wanted that to be happy, then… you wouldn’t want me…” 

“Eijiro…” Izuku’s voice was barely above a whisper, in more shock than actually wanting to get his attention or stop his talking. 

“So I thought, maybe. Maybe if I can just bare it once. Then I’d stop feeling that way. But, I-I couldn’t… so…” He finally let the tears fall as he shrugged. That was the end, he was expecting Izuku to agree with him. But when he looked up at Izuku’s face.

There were tears falling at a rapid pace down his pretty freckled cheeks, his mouth was slightly open in shock. “Eijiro… Can-Can I hug you?” Eijiro barely let him finish his sentence before he practically lept at Izuku. Holding him tightly, Izuku held him just as tight. 

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you feel like that, it doesn’t matter. None of us will think any less of you for that. We love you. It isn’t about sex or anything! We love you. Please, please don’t force yourself, if one day you do feel okay to try then that’s okay! If not? Then that’s also okay. You aren’t broken, Eijiro. You’re perfect.” 

Eijiro sobbed as Izuku spoke, murmuring ‘Thank you’s and ‘I love you’s between breaths and sobs. They stayed like that until both of them fell into a comfortable silence. Cuddling and holding one another, perfectly content. 

That night Izuku introduced him to a new term. One that meant exactly what Eijiro had thought was him being ‘broken’. The term was ‘Asexual’. He wasn’t broken, he wasn’t wrong, he’s Asexual. 

Now, many years later, as a pro-hero that is married to his partners, Eijiro wears that label with pride.

[fbfh]

might have almost died but at least my crush likes me back - percy x gn!crush!reader

pairing: percy x gn bad swimmer crush reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: some swearing, near drowning, water monsters, nonsexual tenticals ever look up and wonder how you’ve gotten to this point, some general dumbassery but what did you expect

summary: was charging into battle against a water monster when you practically need a pool noodle to shower a bad idea? yes. was getting rescued by percy and finding out he has a crush on you worth it? abso fucking lutely. 

requested: yuh

song I listened to while writing this: what the water gave me - florance and the machine

Okay, jumping into the water was definitely not your smartest move, especially since you still need water wings when you go canoeing in the camp lake. In your defense, you have beef with this piece of shit monster. What are you supposed to do, not beat the shit out of it when it tries to go after your friends and sink your ship? No! Plus, will kicking it’s ass possbily impress Percy? Maybe! Is that worth it? Hell fucking yes! You jump in there with a plan; you’ll charge in head first, land on its back where its’ blind spot is, and attack while it tries in vain to reach you. The one thing you didn’t expect was for it to sink below the water and keep going further down, which is where you find yourself now. 

Okay, you think, don’t panic. Hard advice to take when you’re watching the surface recede as you get dragged further down. You’re still trying to stab the bastard, but it’s not working. You know when to pick and choose your battles - literally - and it’s time to retreat. You pull out your sword and try to jump off its back, but you don’t move. You look down, another spike of panic shooting through you, making your collar bones hot and stomach drop sickeningly. 

This piece of shit has two tentacles wrapped around your feet and ankles. 

Oh fuck.

You start to swing desperately at the gelatinous arms holding you down, but your movements are heavy and sluggish, and you can’t land a good hit. A heavy, deep dread fills you as you realize the depth of the situation you’re in. Your mind is already racing with the worst possible outcome, but you try to shove that away, and return to trying to free yourself. If you’re going down, you’re going down swinging. Plus, the others will probably realize what happened, they’ll probably come in for back up any second. 

A wall of stone and sand appears to your right, and you dare to look down at the trench the monster is dragging you down into. You haven’t been down here for too long, but the panic is making you feel light headed. If you pass out down here, that will really be the end. A shadow passes over you, or maybe your vision is going dark, you can’t tell. Either way, you try really really hard not to think about how screwed you are.

A blurry, overlapping combination of Fuck! and No! are all that go through Percy’s mind as he stares at the rippling, swirling water where you were one second ago. He can’t stop seeing the tips of your hair getting dragged into the churning blue depths. Overwhelmed with dread, he feels the water was over him before he realizes he even jumped. He follows the irregular currents from the monsters wake, never wanting so badly to vaporize this bottom feeder. A steely determination rushes through him, overpowering his fear, his worry for you, and yells louder than his racing panic about how hurt you could be; he is going to get you, and you’re going to be fine.

He had left you for one second - one second! - and you somehow managed to do the dumbest, bravest, hottest thing possible and charge after that monster. He pushes aside those thoughts. 

They’re instantly replaced with a rush of hypotheticals; the feeling of your arms around his neck, how you’ll blush when he asks if you’re okay, how he’ll kiss your forehead and tell you how stupid that was, maybe your eyes lock, your hands come up to his cheeks, and- 

He stops them again, chastising himself for thinking about that at the literal worst possible time. 

‘I have to find you first...’ He muses, catching up to the monster - and more importantly, you - a moment later.

‘And there you are.’ 

His shadow passes over you, and a bubble escapes your mouth. Another hot spike of dread cuts through him. He speeds up, drawing his sword, but hesitates when he sees the tentacles holding on to you. A new plan is immediately in mind. He’s only got one chance at this, he has to line up his shot perfectly. 

He speeds down, swings one immaculate arc with his sword, and cuts you free. He pulls you toward him with his free hand, making an air bubble around your head. His nerves calm slightly as you catch your breath, returning to your normal color. 

“Stay here,” he says firmly, helping you get your footing a safe distance from the trench. You nod, hands still clutching his arms. He can’t tell what adrenaline is from the fight and what’s from you, but it doesn’t matter. He’s ending this now. 

He turns back to the monster. 

“Hey shrimp breath!” 

The beast rises, turning to look at him. It was not expecting this. He raises his sword slowly, then races forward, slicing through its weak point. It lets out something between a roar and a shriek, sending currents that almost knock you over. He jabs the thing two more times for good measure. As soon as it starts to turn to dust, he swims back over to you, pulling you into a tight hug, and rising to the surface in one fluid motion. 

You gasp when you break the surface, mostly out of relief, but the feeling of going up doesn’t stop. It takes you a second to realize Percy is waterbending you both up, arching to the side, and setting you gently on the deck of the ship. 

“Are you okay?”

It takes you a second to process everything that just happened. Your mind replays the most terrifying - four, maybe five? - minutes of your life, ending with breaking the surface, rising back up to the boat, and having Percy’s hands on your cheek and shoulder, worriedly inspecting you for any injuries. Wait, what? You realize what he asked, and sputter out a response. 

“Y- uh, yeah, I’m totally fine-”

“What the hell was that?!”

You blink in surprise as he keeps going.

“That could have gone so wrong, why would you just- just jump into the fucking ocean without a plan b, or a life vest, or something!” 

Is he lecturing you? You hold back a smile as he continues, you don’t think he’s ever lectured you before. It’s really cute. 

He pulls you close, your cheeks heating up as he presses his face into the side of your neck. You feel more grounded in his arms than you probably ever have. 

“I… I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” He says it so softly you almost don’t catch it. His face nuzzles against your skin, taking in your presence, and presses the smallest kiss to your neck. 

Oh.

Your mouth hangs open as it dawns on you how he feels. 

He pulls away, face flushed, and rubs the back of his neck.

“Uh, do you…” he trails off, searching your expression for an answer. 

Of course you like Percy; everyone does. You don’t know one person at camp who doesn’t like him at least a little. Camp Half Blood culture is smelling like barbeque smoke, not questioning it when you find a new bruise or scar, and having at least a small to moderate crush on Percy Jackson. We’ve all had it. The giddiness from finding out he likes you feels almost fake. You snap out of your internal spiral, realizing you haven’t answered him yet.

“Yes- yeah, of course… I mean, hello, you’re Percy freaking Jackson. There’s a mile long list of people who have a crush on you.” 

He glances to the side. You’ve never seen him smile like that, it looks good on him. He pulls you close, thumb running over your cheek, foreheads almost touching. 

“There’s only one name on that list I care about.” 

Your lips meet, and you can tell how long he’s wanted to do this. He angles his head just right, and you reach a surprising new level of euphoria you didn’t know existed. You eventually pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath for the second time. 

His words from before replay in your mind. 

“... it is my name, right?”

He laughs and pulls you into a hug. 

‘I could definitely get used to this.’ 

Standing on the deck, holding you in his arms, Percy is thinking the same thing. 

[nerdypanda3126]

An Interesting Little Relationship

This was written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge.

The "rules" are three 15-minute sprints with 24 hours for light editing, which includes new writing to smooth transitions or make it feel complete. Except I broke a few rules on this one... so I used I think six sprints total (lost count a bit 😅) and in between sprints I let myself keep writing until I got stuck. 

This time around I used the prompt: "As if life hasn’t been hard enough lately…you just met your soulmate, and they’re not even human. (Supernatural/monster AU)" 

And @airi-p4​ wrote this minific based on a Julie and the Phantoms AU and it all just kinda clicked in my head. Although fair warning for those of you who know the show, I did take away the ability to handle the instruments to play more with the "can't touch real things"... thing.

Read on Ao3 

The question had been on Marinette’s mind ever since she first met Luka. Which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. For those with visible marks, it was often the first thing people noticed. Marks stood out like wedding bands—jet black for those still waiting, brilliant color for those who’d already found their soulmate, a permanent reminder of the first touch. 

Luka had three black marks like smudges across the backs of his fingers, as if he were destined to brush his knuckles against some stranger’s at some point in his life and discover what everyone hoped to. 

The problem was, Luka’s life was already over. 

He and the band had first shimmered into existence when she found their demo buried along with the rest of their things in the attic and popped it into the dormant CD player. As she’d listened, nodding her head along to the punk rock beat and appreciating the skill of the guitarist, suddenly there they were, three ghosts standing right in front of her.

She’d screamed. They’d screamed. Eventually everyone calmed down enough for Luka to explain that her attic was their old studio and introduce his sister, Juleka, and their drummer, Ivan. And as he gestured to himself, her eyes went straight to those three black marks that she’d been watching ever since.  

She rubbed at her own mark—three black streaks on the side of her neck, just below her ear—as they worked on writing a new song together. Luka was brainstorming aloud, pacing back and forth soundlessly, while she handled the pen. 

Touch was tricky for him. If he focused sometimes, he could pick up small things. He’d managed to grab a pick once and strum it across his guitar in its stand and he’d been giddy about it for days afterward. Sometimes it made her think that maybe it wasn’t all that crazy that her marks seemed to match with his. Maybe it was possible… 

“Hey, you okay, boss?” Luka asked, breaking her out of her thoughts as he took a seat next to her on the old couch and laid his arm casually along the back of her seat. She could almost imagine his weight settling into the spot, although of course he himself was weightless. She frowned at the unburdened upholstery under his thighs as if it had personally offended her. 

“Isn’t it weird?” 

“Isn’t what weird?” 

“You can sit there, and you can pick things up sometimes and you don’t go through the floor or anything, but you can’t touch… other things.” 

As if to prove her point, Luka propped his legs up on the small table she’d brought up, crossing his graffitied high tops across her notebook and smirking. She rolled her eyes and went to shove him off out of habit. Her hand passed right through him, making his feet look like a staticky TV picture for a second before they were back to normal. She frowned at them, too. 

Luka seemed to take her meaning because he moved his feet back down and leaned forward on his elbows instead, tracing lazy patterns on her notebook with his painted fingernail as his eyebrows furrowed in thought beneath his blue-tipped bangs. The paper crinkled under his touch in the quiet between them.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” he finally agreed. 

She kept her eyes focused on those three black marks. For a moment she fantasized about taking his hand and tracing them, but she knew her hand would pass through his like she was trying to hold onto air. “It just doesn’t make sense,” she started again, “if you can’t touch people, why do you still have your marks?” 

He laid his hand flat on the table, then, considering them. She rubbed at hers again self-consciously.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I guess it’s maybe because I died before I met them. You know, seventeen. I didn’t have much time. Jules still has hers, too.” His eyes flicked to her hand covering her mark. “Why do you ask?” 

“It’s stupid,” she muttered. “I’ve just been wondering if maybe… you know…” 

His eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs as a disbelieving grin spread across his face. She wished she could shove his shoulder or tug his beanie down over his nose or flick the gauges in his ears or do something to him. As it was, she tossed her pen at him, taking what small pleasure she could from it when it passed between his eyes, at least marring that grin for a split second. 

“Shut up,” she said, her face flaming as she turned away. “I told you it was stupid.” 

“What if it wasn’t, though?” he asked. “I mean, you said it yourself, I can touch other things. And who knows how these things really work, right? Maybe it doesn’t have to be a touch, maybe it can be… I don’t know, the intent of a touch, or—” 

“Luka…” His name came out half as a warning and half as a sigh. 

“I’m just saying, maybe we could try. Maybe—”

“It’s not you, Luka,” she said, her tone slipping out with more petulance than she meant it to. Which one of them was she trying to convince, anyways? “It can't be you. You’re—well, let’s face it. You’re a ghost. You're not real. Even if it was you—which it’s not, but if it was—I mean, how would that even work? I can’t touch you, you can’t touch me, and the marks only change when someone touches you for the first time. Everyone knows that’s how this works, and we—” 

She stopped when she caught sight of his face again. Only a moment ago she’d been wishing she could wipe the grin off his face and now that it was actually gone, now that his shoulders were slumping in disappointment and his eyebrows were furrowing again, now she wished she hadn’t brought it up in the first place. 

It hurt more than she thought it would. That maybe he’d thought about it, too, and wanted it as much as she did. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

She felt it when he poofed away a moment later, like a small bubble had popped leaving the atmosphere a little harder to breathe. She groaned and let her head fall against the table with a heavy thunk, then thunked it again a few more times for good measure. 

***

And he did forget about it. Or at least he didn’t bring it up again over the next few weeks, although she did catch him looking at her marks more often. Usually with the same concentration as when he was trying to write his own lyrics down using the pen he was getting better and better at manipulating. 

It wasn’t until she overheard him and Juleka arguing one night that she realized it was even still on his mind. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Luka’s exasperated tone made her pause before opening the door to the attic. 

“She deserves someone real, Jules. Her real soulmate, whoever the lucky bastard is, and I’ll never be able to give her that. I mean, okay, let’s say I do tell her, and by some miracle she wants to give up waiting for her soulmate and be with me. Our options are basically I stay here, forever stuck at seventeen, and I watch her grow old and…” 

The way he trailed off made Marinette picture him turning that focused gaze of his on his guitar as his jaw tensed, the way he sometimes did when his words failed him. It always made her think he wished he could let the guitar speak for him. 

“I mean, she can never have a family with me, we can’t share our lives together,” he continued bitterly after a moment. “Hell, she can’t even tell anyone I exist because they’ll think she’s insane. Or what if I somehow manage to cross over and she’s left to try to figure out how to move on? It’s just…” For once Marinette actually heard him sit heavily on the couch, the leather whooshing out from under him and the supports creaking under the weight of his emotion. “I don’t see the point in telling her.” 

There was a long pause and Marinette was starting to wonder if Juleka was even still in the room with him, but then she heard a sharp smack and Luka’s annoyed protest. 

“The point,” Juleka shot back with more force in her voice than Marinette was used to hearing, “is that I’m sick of watching you moping around like this. And besides, don’t you think Marinette deserves to know?” 

“Well—” 

“Look, maybe you’re soulmates and maybe you’re not. You may never know, right?” 

“Jules, I don’t think you understand—”

“But you love her, don’t you? Regardless of fate or whatever.” 

“Of course, but—”

“So tell her.” Juleka’s voice was like steel and it made Marinette shiver to think of being on the receiving end of it. 

She waited, breathless, for Luka’s response, but she only heard a small pop as one of them left. Tentatively, she pushed on the door and let it swing open. Luka was still on the couch with his head in his hands and his fingers dug into his hair as he stared at his shoes. He didn’t seem to notice her entrance until she knocked on the doorframe. His head snapped up and his eyes widened, but before she could even say ‘hello’ he popped out of the room, too, leaving her mind spinning and her heart pounding. 

***

He wasn’t avoiding her. If anything, they spent more time together now than… before, but he always managed to make sure someone else was around. Her parents, especially, because he knew she wouldn’t talk to him in front of them, but that didn’t stop him from doing those annoying ghost things that drove her crazy. 

Like pushing her plate to the side just as she was about to take a bite, or turning lights off  randomly and grinning at her when her parents wondered about the fuses, or tucking doodles and notes and lyrics torn out of her own notebook but in his scratchy handwriting into her shoes and her hair bands and her backpack and—why did he have to be so infuriatingly adorable? 

She was running out of reasons to explain why she was blushing and smiling so much nowadays. Especially since her mark was as black as ever. 

***

It took a while, but eventually he slipped up. It was a band meeting. Juleka was missing, which wasn’t surprising; she’d been gone more often than not and anytime they asked where she’d been she’d mutter an excuse and hide, blushing, behind her hair. 

So Ivan was acting as Luka’s buffer, preventing her, as usual, from asking him about what she’d overheard, until Luka mentioned a name, Mylène, and Ivan went quiet before he popped away without another word. 

Luka muttered an apology to the air Ivan had been occupying before he froze and turned those same wide eyes on Marinette. She half-expected him to poof out, but instead he picked up his pen and started twirling it nervously through his long fingers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, she huffed out a breath and dove in. 

“I heard everything, Luka.” 

He nodded, flicking his eyes up briefly before focusing back on the pen. “I know.” 

“So? What happens now?” 

He shrugged and leaned back against the couch, avoiding her eyes. “Your call, boss.” 

He was trying to look indifferent, unaffected, but she could tell by the way his pen was still spinning that he was only trying to distract himself. She rubbed at her marks, considering, then shifted closer to him. If he were actually sitting next to her, her knee would be leaning against his. Instead the boundary between them shimmered like a mist. It gave her a strange sense of warmth mixed with melancholy. She put her hand out on her knee, palm up, offering it to him.

All but his pen had frozen when she moved, but when his eyes flicked down to her hand, the pen slipped out of his focus and clattered to the floor. 

She couldn’t help her small giggle at his astonishment. In a daze, he reached out to hover his hand over hers, his fingers arched so that his fingertips were poised on top of hers, but not quite daring to close the distance. 

When he finally did, both of their shoulders fell when his hand passed entirely through her. 

Luka pulled away with a small, bitter chuckle. She flexed her fingers, wishing that they felt any different. It should feel different. It was only because he wasn’t—no, not that he wasn’t real , because he most certainly was. And she couldn’t even say he wasn’t alive either, because Luka was the most alive person she’d ever known. Or at least that’s how he made her feel. So, then, it was only because they were on two different planes of existence. Two different places. That’s why they couldn’t… 

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have,” he muttered, but when she looked over he was smiling, flexing his fingers the same way she was. 

She nodded to agree. Interesting. That was a good word for it. 

***

“When did this happen?” Marinette asked as Juleka sheepishly moved her long hair aside to show the bubblegum pink mark across the back of her shoulders. 

Juleka shrugged and hid her eyes behind her hair. “I dunno. A week ago maybe?” 

Marinette shared a glance with Luka. About the same time she started disappearing from band meetings, then. She couldn’t help letting her eyes travel down to Luka’s hand. Juleka found her soulmate in the afterlife. That proved it was possible, right? Or what if Luka was meant to find another ghost like Juleka? What if she was actually the one standing in the way of his happiness? What if—

That strange sense of warmth passed through her and she realized Luka had come over to stand next to her and pass his hand through hers. It was a simple reminder of the other day and she got his message loud and clear. 

I choose this. 

If she could’ve, she would’ve laced her fingers through his and squeezed. Instead, she passed her hand back through his, echoing his message with her own. 

Me, too.

***

The ache to touch him didn’t fade. It was always there, tugging at her heart. But it was nice, what they had. She was getting used to his way of being with her. The way he would sit closer now, letting his shoulder not quite brush against hers. Or the way he would reach for her hand, not seeming bothered when it went through her and instead letting his intent speak for him. 

Maybe it wasn’t how she thought things would go. But it was working for them. 

She was leaning over her notebook with her headphones in, focused on writing something for him when it happened.

She didn’t even know he was there. Usually he’d give her some sort of indication that he’d entered the room. A prickle on the back of her neck or an impression of warmth on her cheek or he’d make some sort of noise as he sat down. Maybe he did and she didn’t notice, but she did notice when her hair was gently pushed aside off her neck and it fell over her shoulder instead. She did notice the lingering sense of a featherlight touch. And not the ghostly touch she was used to. An actual touch. 

She froze and pulled her headphones out and turned to find Luka standing behind her with a look of absolute awe on his face, his eyes locked onto the small expanse of skin he’d managed to bare. He’d managed to touch. 

On the side of her neck, just below her ear.  

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed. 

[earthlyyan]

Organic Antidepressants

(Slight Yandere Ferid Bathory x Suicidal Reader) originally posted on my AO3

Warnings: Ferid being touchy, suicidal depression, intrusive thoughts. Reader is of legal age

first person pov (ew)

(Originally Posted on AO3 On 1-9-2020)

The days were far longer than they were before… at least it felt that way.

I knew I should’ve died that day. I wish I had died that day. The day the trumpets of the apocalypse decided to ring gloriously over our god forsaken planet.

Anyone younger than thirteen? What a fucking joke.

The cot stuffed with hay was one of the few things that brought me comfort in the day to day. The odd number of children allowed for me to be alone. I liked it that way. More me time. And the most I wanted to do was return to it. But instead, my feet dragged down the busy streets, making my way to the blood bank.

On my way though, I could hear the guards making excuses to their superiors. Apparently three humans on the register were found dead in their terf. 

“They committed suicide. You know how they get when they’re cooped up. I didn’t touch them, honest.”

 “They got sick. Died of their illness I guess.”

Bastards took them for themselves. Everyone knew it. But were they going to confront them? They weren’t protected. The vamps just thought they could get away with it.

“Hey we have enough. Three won’t make a dent.”

Not even caring that those children had futures. Well, would’ve had futures. Those were stripped away as quick as the adults were.

I wanted to be happy. We all did.

But in this place? Laughable. You had a better chance of being an astronaut. Well… maybe not. But it sure felt that way.

You know how to be happy right?

 “First and Last name?”

I answered.

“First open table.”

No matter how many times I’ve done this already, the dread won’t leave. The feeling of their eyes. I could see the barely restrained hunger. If anyone was left alone, they’d take a bag for the rations and the kid for themselves.   

You could ask the vamp to take extra.

I shuddered and plopped myself on the medical bed. “Good morning.”

An unamused grunt was my reply. I was the scum of the earth not worth talking to, apparently.

He’s right, isn’t he?

The needle was quick. He hadn’t even bothered to give a warning. It was a pinch, a wave of nausea, and then it was over. He tossed the pouch of their nasty sustenance formula in my hands and pointed to the door.

“Thanks.” I walked out and threw myself on the floor beside the benches. I opened my disgusting capri-sun wannabe and began to suck on it. I cringed at the taste.

There were two boys on the stairs. One obviously more displeased about the situation than the other. He crinkled the full bag and threw it across the clearing. If I had the balls and the same cripplingly low amount of braincells as he did, I would probably do the same.

The other boy, far more mature than the other, stood up after chugging his to throw his pouch away. He seemed to be taking the situation much better than the other. He had beautiful blonde hair and deep blue eyes. If he wasn’t in this hell hole, he could’ve been a child model.

The thought made me sad. What could’ve been. I could’ve been somebody.

Maybe you’ll get a fresh start in the next life.

 Apparently, I had zoned out far longer than I thought because the next thing I knew, a fight had broken out.

 If you could call a young boy threatened to be chucked off the ledge a fight anyway. He was soon thrown to the side with enough force to send him reeling.

 A well-dressed vampire walked with purpose down the stairs. Shoulders back, chin up. He seemed regal.

He certainly looked like royalty.

“Lord Ferid!” The little blonde boy ran up to him. The two seemed close enough, which sent my mind reeling.

How does a kid get that close with a nobleman like him? They seem friendly.

“Ah~ Mika!” The noble -presumably named Ferid- gave him a kind smile. “What on earth seems to be the matter?”

He talked like royalty too.

I couldn’t stop staring. After a few minutes of banter, the noble took his hand from the blonde’s face and sent him on his way. He had said something about meeting at his mansion. I brought myself up from the floor and chased after the blonde.

*

Two days after the talk with Mika, I stood at the noble’s door.

“If you give your blood, he’ll give you anything you want!”

I rose an eyebrow. “Really? Anything?”

Mika nodded proudly. “Yup! Though he’s busy tonight. But the day after I’d try it.”

Maybe he can take the pain away.

 I took a few controlled breaths. This screamed danger. It’s a vampire. They kill people

Why are you so scared? It’s not like your life could get worse.

I knocked on his door.

It swung open, seemingly on its own accord. The motion invited me in. Once I was past the threshold, I gently closed the door and looked inside.

There he sat, lounging on a tasteful white couch with gold accented frames. In the dim candlelight he almost resembled an angel.

An angel of death, perhaps?

He looked up from his book and turned his attention towards me. My body froze. I felt my self-confidence leave. Not like I had much left anyway.

He called my name, somehow. Mika must’ve told him or something. Though, something nagged at me. I don’t remember telling Mika my name. Mika hadn’t even told me his. It was all overheard. Then how?

“Come, sit.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch.

 I sat down on the chair across from him instead.

“Over here, my dear.” He patted the spot next to him louder, trying to coax me over like I were an animal.

Though, that’s probably how he saw my species anyway, isn’t it?

“My dearest Mika had told me about your visit a few nights ago. I wouldn’t have thought he would’ve told anyone about the little arrangement I have going on here, but I’m not complaining.” He sighed, seemingly content. “I wasn’t expecting someone of your age to be here, how are you still here? You have me curious.”

“If I’m honest, milord, I don’t quite know.” I said, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. But the calculating feeling of his gaze made it harder. “Luck? Possibly?”

“Luck?” He leaned back and turned himself towards me. “Is it truly luck?”

“With all due respect, what’s that supposed to mean?”

You know what he means, and you know he’s right.

He smiled at me, not meeting my eyes. Ah. Okay.

“So, what are you hoping to get out of this?” He scooted closer. “As much as I’d like to think you’re here out of the kindness of your heart, we both know that isn’t the case, now is it?”

I nodded; heat crept its way up my face. “Yeah, but I suppose that doesn’t make me irregular.” I grumbled. “But I suppose that also makes me boring doesn’t it?”

He shrugged. “That entirely depends on you, my dear.”

I tugged at my uniform and cleared my throat. “Yeah I guess that’s fair.”

“Back to the topic at hand, yes?” He smiled and placed a gloved hand on my shoulder.

I suppressed a shudder. “Right. I guess I should cut to the chase.” I finally had the courage to look into his eyes.

Those damn eyes, despite the almost ravenous look in them, I couldn’t help but find them entrancing. Like shiny rubies in where his irises should be. He raised his eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

“Antidepressants.”

And I would’ve never thought his grin could get bigger. “Antidepressants? Now that’s something I haven’t heard before.”

In a place like this? Really? “I’m sure you would’ve heard everything by now.”

“And I thought I would’ve heard it all by now too. But I suppose not.” He ran his hand down my back

I gingerly grabbed his hand and put it back on his lap. “Sorry.” I mumbled.

“No~ Don’t apologize. It’s quite alright.” He folded his hands in his lap, he smiled at me. “If I were in a situation like yours, I don’t think I’d want to be touched either.”

My gaze fell. “Right. A situation like mine.” I slapped my cheeks gently to liven myself up. “Back to the deal though.”

“Actually, before we continue, what do you need them for? Medicine isn’t allowed down here unless regulated, considering how it effects the blood. Someone as old as you should know that.”

“Yeah, but why else would someone need antidepressants?”

He stared at me. His expression left no room for argument. He wanted an answer. His lips tugged into a smile. A kind looking one, but it left something unsaid.

“Why do you really need them?”

It’s not like you have anything else to lose, right? Tell him. You’ll feel better. He can make you better.

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, leaning back onto the couch. “Look, how old do you think I am?”

“Too old to be here at this age, certainly.” He shrugged and made himself comfortable next to me. Close enough to grab me, but far enough not to invade my personal bubble.

“And why do you think that is?” I looked to the wall, hoping to find a distraction to focus on anything else but how close he was. But found nothing but pristine white.

“This world’s god is cruel.” He said. “It seemed they chose to bless you instead of damning you to the fate of your elders.”

I laughed. “Bless me?” I ran my hands faster through my hair, tugging at the ends to ground me. “What kind of blessing is this? I’m stuck down here to live until old age, vitamin deficiency or illness takes me? I’d rather be with my friends and family.”

You could join them. There’s plenty of spaces to do so. You could fly like an angel.

“You could always make your situation better.” His voice softened.

“That’s why I’m here.” I took my hands from my hair and began to fiddle with my identification tag. “I thought if I struck a deal with you, I’d get the opportunity to make things better. To make things as they should be.”

“But if you were to make things as they should be, then I know the real reason you want those pills, don’t you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that I—” I felt my throat close. Tears stung the back of my eyes, I fought desperately to bite them back.

This didn’t go unnoticed.

“You did, and it’s okay.” His hand made its way to my hair. I couldn’t find the strength to fight him. It’s not like he was going to harm me if he wanted this deal to work. “You know your very existence is a burden to you. And you want to fix it. You humans were always so independent.” He whispered. He paused to take off his glove and used his sharp nails to comb my hair. “But you know it’s okay to ask for help, right?”

 “Nobody would give me help. They wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t care. I’d rather just…” I swallowed hard.

“End it? Now don’t be ridiculous.” He placed my head on his shoulder, presumably for easier access. “What if there truly isn’t a happy end if you end it? You’d lament not fixing it while you could. And suicide isn’t beneficial to anyone, little lamb.” His hand reached to touch my face. Despite his hands being cold, something inside me warmed.

This can’t be right. It isn’t right. He’s a vampire he’s just like the rest of them—

But he cares.

No. He doesn’t he just wants me to think he does.

But what if he truly does care?

“Why are you even trying to talk me down? Wouldn’t it be better for you to just give me the pills and then you get a drink?” It’s not like I didn’t have a plan B if he said no.

“How selfish do you think I am? I’m wounded.” He pulled my head onto his lap, his hands playing with tufts and braiding the longer pieces. “Who would want someone else to take their life for the sake of a meal?”

I averted my eyes. I sounded like a dick now. “I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. That seems to be a nasty habit that you’ll have to break.” He said. “And I have an idea that could be beneficial to both of us in the long term, if you’re interested.” His hand moved my head to look up. I could see his furrowed brow and soft smile. I felt the remaining fears I had slowly dissipate.

“Yeah?”

“You can stay with me. I think I would miss you if you were gone.”

“You… You would?”

“Of course, I would. You’re full of untapped potential. And I think I could help ease those pains preventing them from coming to fruition.” He smiled. “All you have to do is say yes~.”

I slowly sat up, taking in his words.

He could make you feel wanted. You didn’t need to run anymore.

“I…”

You could have someone take care of you and like you for you, isn’t that all you’ve wanted? Someone who knows how to make things better? Someone who can save you?

“I think… I would like that.”

His smile reached his eyes. “As would I, my dear.” He hoisted me onto his lap. “Now, to seal the deal.” He unbuttoned the top few buttons of my uniform and removed my identification collar. “Have you ever been bitten directly?”

I shook my head.

“Now don’t worry. It won’t hurt for long. Like a pinprick.” He gave my nose a small bop. “Like a more organic needle. Just, try not to squirm too much. I don’t want to accidentally rip your internal carotid, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that either.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay…” I tried to calm my nerves. “okay I can do this.”

He placed his hand on the small of my back and gently pushed me to his chest. “On the count of three, alright?”

I flexed my fingers, trying to ease my nerves. “Alright…”

“One…”

I felt his warm breath on my neck, making me tense.

He rubbed my head with his free hand. “Two…”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Three.”

It was much more painful than he had said. It felt like two spears digging perpendicularly into my skin. Slow and agonizing. I gripped his coat tightly. His hands continued to attempt to soothe me.

“Shhh~ The pain won’t last much longer.” He cooed. I could feel his lips moving on my skin at he talked.

The pain didn’t go away, but something arose within. The area where his fangs pierced me grew numb. I could still feel his fangs in my skin, its presence foreign. But it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It felt like warmth and welcome, if those feelings could resonate inside. My mind grew foggier. Pleasantly ignorant. I couldn’t hear anything else but the faint slurping and my own heartbeat. It was nice. I felt my eyes roll back and my body grow weaker. I gave Ferid’s coat a fatigued tug.

He pulled away slowly, and I whined at the loss. I slumped against his shoulder, the last of my remaining strength left along with his fangs.

His hand moved from the back of my head to my shoulders. He stood up with me in his arms. My eyes fought to stay open. I saw the faint image of Ferid’s face with a small stream of blood falling from his lips.

The light from the candle illuminated the space behind him, bathing him in a heavenly glow. He seemed a little livelier than before, too.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I tried to get a word out, but it came out a strangled whimper.

He smiled and shook his head, tutting softly. “I think I took too much, don’t you?” He walked down the hall with my limp body in his arms.

Ferid arrived in a large bedroom and placed me neatly under the covers and tucked me in. He sat next to me on my left side. He brushed a few stray hairs from my face and gave me a small kiss on the forehead.

“I do believe you need your rest. I’ll be back when you wake, my dear. I promise.” His hand moved from my forehead to my cheek as he gave it one final caress.

In my failing consciousness, I heard a gentle laugh

“Sleep well my lamb you’ll feel better in the morning. You’ll never feel empty again.”

And in the enveloping darkness, I saw him smirk.

[hyperbali]

Agatha Harkness Was Right, And Here’s Why

Alright. Finally had to sit down and write my way out of this quiet, internal temper tantrum, and a few people were interested in seeing what I had to say, so I present to you:

Agatha Harkness Was Right, And Here’s Why

Disclaimer: MASSIVE spoilers for the entirety of WandaVision, and I am not nice about it.

I’ll start off by saying that, for all its foibles, WandaVision was genuinely a good example of a property within the MCU/Disney umbrella that stepped out of the usual ‘good guys fight bad guys action extravaganza’ in a way that pushed the envelope. The pseudo-horror aspect of the first few episodes is something I would really love to see engaged with on a more thoughtful basis in future projects.

I would say that it proved to be more than a vehicle to promote toys, but… well…

Yeah. Anyway.

I’ll assume that you watched WandaVision if you’re reading this, but quick recap: In the aftermath of ‘the Blip,’ Wanda is left broken and alone with no one in her corner. Her biggest mentor willingly abandoned his team to get his own ‘happy’ ending (do not get me started on Steve, that’s a document in and of itself), her other biggest mentor is probably off enjoying his family while ignoring the incredibly racist killing spree he’s been on for the past five years, and her lover is dead. When she goes to claim the body, she’s told nuh-uh, that’s government property, please leave.

So she goes to a plot of land in the middle of some nowhere town in New Jersey, which Vision apparently bought despite the fact they were living a pretty decently comfortable life in Scotland, where she looks at the deed that Vision drew a heart on and wrote ‘To Grow Old In’. Very sweet. Kind of weird, considering nothing of this caliber had ever been suggested for either of their characters and they’d been actively running from specifically the U.S. authorities? But sweet.

She has a breakdown and, in her grief, contains the entire town of Westview and all 3,892 of the people in it in her own personal paradise, where nothing bad ever happens beyond sitcom hijinks, no one dies, and every problem is tied up and neatly dealt with by the end of an ‘episode’. Except we learn that this is only paradise to Wanda, who apparently shares the aspect of having to relate everything to her favourite pop culture with Tony, because everyone else in Westview is more or less being psychologically tortured by the incredible amount of pain she’s in, forced to be puppeted actors to make her happy.

Bear in mind, Westview might have been bigger at some point - we have no idea how many people survived the Blip, or how many have been brought back to life within the past few weeks of the current setting. Either way, this is a town that has already dealt with a lot of trauma being dragged into yet another awful, much more specific kind of emotional damage, thanks to ‘the heroes’. Nice.

Agatha Harkness, a witch who’s been up to who-knows-what in the 340 years since she drained the coven that tried to kill her for getting a little too ambitious into jerky, feels the massive expenditure of magical power and decides to investigate. All the while, she carefully uses her own magic to try and peek into Wanda’s psyche, her motivations, all while keeping up appearances and not letting slip that anything is amiss.

I’ll point out that she’s no saint here, either - she specifically keeps one Westview resident at her mercy, and knows what’s happening to the rest of them, but doesn’t attempt to stop it. I’ll chalk that up to her pragmatism; their ‘sacrifice’ was fine to her as long as she could figure out how Wanda could have done something so unheard of in terms of power.

What we come to learn over the course of the show is that, given everything that happened, Wanda didn’t mean to take over an entire town and tool it into her own personal slice of heaven. She very quickly became aware of it; we know that she knows it’s her own personal bubble as soon as episode three, when she’s confronting Monica about how the latter could possibly know about Ultron. Wanda is made further aware of how much damage this is inflicting on others in episode five, when Vision himself tells her that these people are scared. But still, she has everything handled! It’s okay! The outside world is worse, trust her!

Her handling of the question, ‘where are all the children of Westview,’ is one that bears some thinking - and, y’know, kind of more than a little concern. They’re allowed to walk around as part of the ‘Halloween special,’ but as Vision walks further and further out towards the edges of town where Wanda doesn’t have as much full control, people are just frozen in place, or conducting the same few seconds of action over and over. And fully aware of being trapped.

How are they being sustained? Eating, sleeping? If someone isn’t part of her storyline, is she just locking them down into a coma? What made Wanda decide that keeping the children ‘out of the way’ was somehow kinder than involving them, especially given her later argument that she’s been trying to keep the entire town safe and happy?

The fact of the matter is, she only actually starts to feel remorse for any of this after she’s confronted with the fact that, after weeks of being at her mercy, the townspeople of Westview would rather be dead than endure another moment of having to play nice for her enjoyment. She finally opens the ‘bubble’ to let them out - which leads to the ‘epic’ finale of three different entities trying to take down Wanda and her happy family: the S.W.O.R.D. military led by Hayward, the White Vision, and Agatha.

Winding back to how we got here: after Agatha uses her own trapped resident, Ralph Bohner (who, given his casting and the props in place during the last episode, I’m willing to bet is actually the missing witness protection person Jimmy was looking for) in an attempt to lure out Wanda’s reasoning - and fails - she’s pretty much done pretending. She tricks Wanda into her basement, nullifies her powers, and makes her face her own past to get to the truth of the matter.

Not going to lie, favourite moment of the show. Kathryn Hahn killed Agatha’s slightly-amused-slightly-irritated observations about Wanda’s coping mechanisms, and the whole arrangement was extremely meta. I would have paid real money dollars to see her do the same thing to the likes of Tony, Strange, and Loki. Hell, even just having her meet the rest of the Avengers? Augh. If wishes were fishes.

When Agatha comes to the conclusion that Wanda is the vaunted, nigh-indestructible force of nature that she’s literally spent her entire life reading about is the ultimate source of chaos magic and will likely bring about the end of the world, she’s pretty understandably taken aback. To that matter, the fact that Wanda… has very little control over any of it, and is using what she does understand to play housemaker? After how long Agatha has spent learning control, hiding in plain sight, just to be child’s play compared to what Wanda has at her fingertips? I’d be pretty pissed off, too!

The way that WandaVision handled both of the major ‘fights’ - Vision versus White Vision ending in philosophy, and Wanda ending up beating Agatha at her own game of deception - is excellent. A little grating that they had to go with the beat down angle before they got there, but this is MCU; punches and thrown cars had to get shoved in somewhere. And, given that this series very much played with the idea of grey morality, I was sort of hopeful that Agatha would end up in a not-quite stalemate arrangement with Wanda. She’s not as powerful as the Scarlet Witch, but she has the know-how that Wanda sorely lacks; in recompense for her own deeds, she would be able to teach what she knows while also kind of scheming on her own time.

Y’know, like what they did with rehabilitating Loki?

Except that Wanda, who has just gone through the entire rigamarole of coming to terms with the fact that she trapped thousands of people into a nightmare scenario against their will, rendering them helpless to her mercy… traps Agatha into a nightmare scenario against her will, rendering her helpless to Wanda’s mercy.

That moment actually shook me. Oh, my god. We’re supposed to still look at Wanda as a good guy after this?

This isn’t even covering the incredibly awful confrontation with her and Vision where she tries to gaslight him into believing that everything is A-OK, or the fact that the person she gets most violent with (apart from Agatha) is Monica Rambeau, a black woman who spends most of the show bending over backwards trying to say that what Wanda is doing is understandable, justified, and just needs a gentle touch to be dealt with.

That could be its own document, too - how Monica, much as she’s incredible and definitely looks to be a really exciting addition to the MCU roster, more or less gets used as the Good One to absolve and enable Wanda’s actions. One of her last lines to Wanda, after seeing how the people of Westview (rightfully) look at Wanda like she’s monstrous, is “they’ll never know what you sacrificed.”

Sacrificed what? The fake husband and fake kids she made out of her own compulsion to pretend that everything is okay? None of that would have existed if she’d been given the proper resources to actually cope with how much loss she’s had to deal with. None of that would have existed if she hadn’t caused this problem in the first place.

In the end, Wanda flies off in her fancy new gear before the FBI shows up, avoiding any real consequences to her actions - which has pretty much been the running theme of her character ever since she was introduced to the MCU in Age of Ultron. The worst kind of direct consequence she’s ever gotten was being grounded to her room for a while, then kept in the Raft for, like, maybe a day - and both times, she was broken out post-haste.

Meanwhile, she worsened the issues in Sokovia (which, I will say upfront, was Tony’s fault to begin with), unleashed the Hulk on Johannesburg, got a pretty significant amount of civilians killed as bystanders in Lagos (hey, how come Wanda keeps turning a lot of black people into casualties?), and stood back in Wakanda to let their people try to fight off Thanos from getting to Vision until it was clear that there was no other option than for her to get involved.

Great Power Comes With No Responsibility At All, Actually.

Wanda, in the several years she has maintained her identity as an Avenger, has proven time and time again that she takes on innumerable risks without any full understanding of what they mean, allows others to take on the brunt of the fallout for her, and looks sad until she’s forgiven and moves on to the next problem. She has no business casually throwing around the kind of power that being the Scarlet Witch entails, not until she’s actually made any kind of headway into making reparations for what she’s done and tried, really tried, to get a handle on what she’s capable of.

Which she’s apparently doing in the last post-credits scene, astral reading the literal Book of the Damned on her lonesome in the mountains, but… without anyone to guide her, or give her any kind of boundary?

[I ran out of images I could post, but you know exactly what image I am referring to here]

Agatha Harkness was right. And that should terrify everybody that has to deal with Wanda in the future.

(P.S. Do we know if she actually even killed that dog? We never see her holding anything but a blanket, and characters go in and out of that show all the time. Granted, she wasn’t great with the cicada-turned-bird... hmm.)

Additional Notes:

“Well, you’re a Tony Stan, of course you think Wanda’s a villain”

I like Tony because he’s such an awful mess, and the narrative isn’t exactly kind about telling him what a piece of shit he can be! He reaped a lot of problems, created practically half the villains in the MCU, and ended up dying a martyred hero. Thanks to being the tent pole by which this franchise hoisted itself into a cultural powerhouse, he will always be their golden savior. If you want to read about how he’s the true villain of this entire affair, feel free to look up any number of takedown pieces about him that are out there. He’s a dick. I will never “uwu sad baby who did nothing wrong ever 🥺” him the way people do about Wanda.

“Why are you so pressed about this”

Because something as good in concept as WandaVision could and should have been about anyone other than the whitewashed, antisemitic take on Wanda Maximoff that MCU brought upon us. They put crucifixes on her wall in Civil War, for fuck’s sake!

“Weren’t you mad about them not including Aaron Taylor-Johnson”

At this point, I am almost kind of relieved the real Pietro wasn’t resurrected for this, because god knows they probably would have killed him all over again just to inflict that much more pain on his sister.

“Anything else you’d like to tell us, turbo nerd”

This was literally itching at me all weekend to write, so it’s more or less just to get it off my chest. If you powered your way through it, uh… thanks? Sorry if I yucked your yums, but I tried to be as clear with the disclaimer as I could. 🤷‍♂️