#hate her for litterally anything else but at least she tried to be helpful in HOO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing : (College AU)non!idol!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : established relationship ; bullying ; depression ; attempted su*c*de ; major angst ; is it considered fluffy at the end or more yandere the way that Seungmin acts at the end??? ; let me know!!! Word Count : 4.6k Request : Anon : depressed reader gets actively bullied and bruised which leads to a suicide attempt. seungmin never thought it was that serious once she brought it up to him. but after her failed attempt he is now extra careful with her and maybe a bit mad at himself for not taking it seriously. A/N : PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE CLICKING READ MORE!! To the anon that requested this, I hope you're still here and you remember sending this in! I'm finally posting it!! I hope you enjoy it! The gif came from this blog!!

It rained again today… It seemed like everyone on campus knew that the storm was coming, everyone but you. Umbrellas were pushed open all around you as you quickly put your hood up, the downpour was torrential and you were soaked within the first minute of your walk back to your dorms. It didn’t help that people seemed to be purposely angling their umbrellas so that whenever you walked by, the rain from the top would pour onto your head.

You’re overthinking it… There’s no reason anyone would purposely do something like that to you. You don’t deserve that. Is what everyone else would say, even your boyfriend… And you would have believed them if not for the insults that were constantly hurled in your direction and the scrapes and bruises that littered your knees and elbows from being pushed around and laughed at when you fell to the ground. You didn’t believe them… And they didn’t believe you.

By the time you got to your building you were dripping wet, but the attacks wouldn’t stop until you were behind closed doors, in the safety of your room, at least for the next couple hours until the next day started and you got to go through it all over again. That was your life, a constant repeat of the day before, and you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

As soon as you walked through the front door of your building you heard it, the laughter of the girls who seemed to make it their job to make sure your life was hell. You weren’t sure what you had done to make them hate you so much, you had never even talked to them, but they still decided to target you.

“God, look at the shit they let live in the building with us.” One of them said, although you sure it was the main girl talking. Every clique had a leader, and it was obvious that she was the leader of the group. Everyone else just decided to follow along, and maybe it was because they were scared of being on the receiving end of the girls shit. You were done being scared though, you had simply become numb to it. “What should we do? She looks like a fucking sewer rat, dripping shit all over the entrance. Disgusting.”

You couldn’t walk fast enough, and even if you tried to, you were sure that she’d catch up. She was following right behind you, and before you could even get your foot on the first step, you were being pushed, your knee cracking loudly as it hit the edge of the stair. You didn’t make a sound, you didn’t wince, you didn’t cry, you just got back up, trying your best to focus on anything but the pain that shot through your leg as you continued walking up the stairs.

“Now she’s an injured rat, maybe she should just put herself out of her misery. It’s not like anyone wants her here anyway.” They all laughed, like your pain and your suffering was entertainment for all of them. Maybe they were just bored… It’s not like you could do anything about it. If you said anything, it would only make things worse and no one would ever believe you… You were nobody… There wasn’t a single person who would notice if you were gone.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning if you want to go out and get breakfast together before class.” Seungmins voice came through the speaker of your phone as it sat on the bed. You hummed softly, not in agreement, not in disagreement either though. It was a sound only to let him know that you were there, that you were still listening. “Did you bring your umbrella with you today? It was raining really bad.”

You hummed again, once again becoming aware of just how wet you were, your clothes soaking through to the mattress that you were sitting on. “Yeah… I’m gonna take a shower and then a nap… I’ve got a lot of studying to do… Want to be well rested.” You muttered, your voice almost robotic, but he didn’t pick up on it, or maybe he did and he just decided to ignore it.

“Alright. Don’t study too hard. I’ll see you in the morning, I’ll pick you up.” His voice was as cheerful as usual, not a care in the world… and why would he have one? He didn’t go through what you did. He didn’t know what it was like, and he refused to believe that it happened to you… In his eyes, everything was perfect. Nothing was ever wrong because it didn’t hurt him… not personally at least.

That’s how it always was… He either didn’t want to believe that such horrible people existed, or he just blew it off, assuming that you were making it seem worse than it actually was. That’s why you didn’t even tell him anymore. You were tired of wasting your breath, trying to call out for help, trying to get him to listen to you and be there for you. It was all pointless. Nothing would ever change… Not for you, not unless you did something… You were the only person who could help yourself.

Your roommate wasn’t back yet, she was always out late studying. It was the perfect opportunity, the perfect time. No one would ever know, and by the time they did, it would be too late. You weren’t going to continue being tortured, you shouldn’t have to continue suffering just to make other people's lives easier, to give them their daily dose of entertainment. You shouldn’t have to go through hell just so someone’s perfect view of the world wasn’t soiled.

Your phone was left on the bed as you went to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and taking a deep breath. It would be over soon, it would all be over soon. It’s not like anyone wants you here anyway… Those words repeated over and over in your mind as you dug through the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the razors that you had bought a couple months before. They were purchased right before your talk with Seungmin. You had wanted so badly for him to listen to you, to tell you that everything would be okay, that he’d help you… You were wrong in wanting those things, you hadn’t gotten any of them. You weren’t sure why you had even held out this long after the talk, it’s not like anything was getting better, and you knew then that nothing would ever be better.

The hoodie that you had been wearing was pulled off, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud, the soaking fabric creating a puddle where it landed. The shower was turned on, the spicket turned all the way to hot. If this would be your final moment, you at least wanted to be comfortable for as long as it lasted.

Hesitating was something you did often. You hesitated when having to pick a multiple choice answer on a test. You had hesitated a little too long when you were called to the front of the class to answer a question on the board. You even hesitated when Seungmin had asked you to be his girlfriend. Hesitation was just… your thing. Not now though, you didn’t hesitate at all as you climbed into the tub, lowering yourself down into the tub. There was no reason to take pause, your decision would affect no one, no one but yourself, and the only effect it would have on you was positive. You would finally be free, and you saw nothing wrong in wanting that.

It was much easier to sleep, to let yourself drift off knowing that you’d have no worries left, knowing that once your eyes were shut, they would be shut for good. You let your wrists fall into the water that filled up around you, focusing only on the sound of the shower, the way it felt like rain as it poured down around you. You’d be okay soon, and while you didn’t know where you’d go or what would happen next… At least you wouldn’t be in hell, at least not this one.

“I really have to go to the bathroom, stupid rain. Just wait here, I’ll be out soon.” Your roommate said as she burst through the door, the rest of her study group drenched as they filed in behind her. She knocked once on the door to the bathroom, then once more, rocking back and forth impatiently as she waited for you to give her the okay to come in. “Fuck it!” She called out as she pushed open the door, coming to a full stop when she saw you, the bath water a dark red as it inched closer and closer to spilling over the sides. “Help! Come help me! Oh my god! Call an ambulance! Fuck! What the fuck!?” She shouted, running over to the tub and grabbing your arms, holding them above your head to try to stop the bleeding.

The rest of them rushed in, some of them screamed when they saw you, your color almost completely drained. Others were pulling out their phones, trying to make the same call at the same time. The ones who screamed were ordered to come over and help, their hands shaking as they tried to help your roommate pull you out of the tub. The others who were on the phone were all trying to tell your roommate and the few others what to do to try to help, at least until the paramedics arrived.

It was strange how even with all the commotion, your mind was happy. You could hear all of it, but you refused to focus on it, scared that if you did it would bring you back to the hell that you called life, the hell that you were trying to escape. “Why would she do that? Why? Are her grades bad? She could have come to study group with us!” Someone had shouted, and if you weren’t feeling so tired, you might have actually laughed. Your grades were the least of your problems, they weren’t even on your list of problems. Of course, your roommate had never believed you either, so she had probably never brought it up to the rest of her group.

“Check… Check to see if her heart is still beating!” One of the guys shakily ordered, and your roommate pressed her fingers against your neck, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to focus on the feeling of the faint beat that came a little too slow. Time was running out, and you felt it too, it was a good feeling, to know that soon you’d gone. There would be no more suffering, no more nights spent lying in your bed crying as you wished that someone, anyone, would understand you, that they’d just listen.

Sirens sang outside the building and you wished that you had done it earlier, that you hadn’t even answered the call from Seungmin. Maybe if you had cut a little deeper… maybe you had been hesitating, a little bit of hope left that maybe now someone would help. Did you really want to die or did you just want things to get better? Would things even get better? At least you were feeling tired, no matter what happened now, you’d be so out of it you wouldn’t remember. Maybe you wouldn’t wake up, maybe it would still work. Maybe…

“Dude, have you seen on twitter?” Jisung asked, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through his phone. Seungmin was sitting across from him, more focused on his meal. “There was a freaking suicide attempt back on campus… there’s literally live updates right now.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, not nearly as impressed as Jisung for some reason was. “That looks a lot like Y/Ns building! You should call her! See if she knows what’s going on!”

The last thing Seungmin wanted to do was bother you when you had told him you were studying, but by the way Jisung was looking at him, Seungmin knew he wouldn’t let up. “Fine… But I’m not gonna force her to look at that. She can’t handle that kind of stuff.” He mumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. It’s not just that you couldn’t handle it, you absolutely hated stuff like that. You couldn’t even watch horror movies without hiding in Seungmins shoulder for the better half of the movie.

Jisung watched as Seungmin dialed your number, his knee bouncing so much under the table that Seungmin could feel it in the floor. “S-Seungmin!” A male voice came over the phone, it wasn’t you at all, and the man sounded breathless and his voice was shaky. Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type of person to jump to conclusions, but he couldn’t help but get a little worked up when he heard anyone but you on the other end of the line.

“Who are you? Where’s Y/N?” Seungmin hissed through the phone, his fist already balled up on the table as he awaited an explanation. Knowing you it would probably be a good one, one that would have Seungmin feeling foolish while laughing about it later with you. You probably just left your phone at the cafe that you always went to… But that wouldn’t explain the urgency in the person's voice… This was someone who knew something or had done something and it wasn’t good. “Where is she?” Seungmin asked again, and he could feel Jisungs eyes on him, eating up the drama without a word, enjoying it far too much since he wasn’t the one personally involved in it.

“Hospital… Ambulance… Lia found her… Come fast…” The man said, and then the line went silent, leaving Seungmin to put the pieces together. He reached across the table to grab Jisungs phone, still open to the twitter feed about the attempted suicide, and as he scrolled through the pictures it became quite clear to him. Your room, with the yellow tape making a big X across the door, your bed that was still made just as it had been this morning. Your bag sat on the floor next to your nightstand where you always left it… And on the nightstand table was a picture of you and him together.

“H-Hey! Where are you going?!” Jisung shouted as Seungmin pushed away from the table, his chair falling back and crashing against the floor as he ran to the front door and pulled on his shoes. The trip that he and the guys in his club had gone on had him miles away from you, of course that’s how it would work out, why wouldn’t it be like that? He needed to be with you the most right now and it would take him hours just to get there. “What is going on?! Come on, dude! Tell me!”

“It was her!” Seungmin shouted to Jisung, although nothing would stop him from moving forward right now. He was on a steady track and it led only to you. He wasn’t crying, not yet, for now he kept the tears at bay with nothing but anger. Anger towards himself for not being there to stop it, anger with you for doing something so stupid. Did you even know what that would have done to him? He loves you, and you were going to just take yourself away from him like that without a word? Why didn’t you talk to him? Why didn’t you tell him? What was going on that would make you think to do something like that? He didn’t get it, and that was only pissing him off more. Right now he just needed to get to you, make sure that you’d be okay.

~~~

“She lost a lot of blood, so we had to do a transfusion. She’ll be okay, we just need to keep watch over her, make sure everything stays good.”

“Can I see her? Why aren’t you letting me in her room? What’s going on? Let me see her!”

“They would like to talk to you first… Before you see her…”

He sat in the lounge room, his hands folded on the table as he looked at the officer across from him. He didn’t know what it was about, but he tried his best to keep calm even though all he wanted to do was get to your room and sit beside you. “Kim Seungmin… You were her boyfriend, right?” The officer questioned and Seungmin narrowed his eyes as it set in that he was about to be interrogated for this shit.

“I am her boyfriend… Present tense…” He responded, quite snarkily, but this felt like a complete waste of time to him. “Is there a reason why you’re doing this? Do you guys think someone else did this to her and set it up?”

The cop shook his head, leaning back in his chair as he looked over Seungmin. “Where were you tonight? How did you know to come here? Seems like you came pretty fast too… Like you knew this was going to happen…”

Seungmins eyes went wide and his jaw was slack as he stared at the officer. How could someone even insinuate that this was somehow his fault? “I was three hours away with my club. I’ve been out for almost a week going to different high schools trying to get people to apply to the university. I called her because my friend saw a bunch of posts on twitter about something happening… I didn’t know it was her until some random guy answered and told me.” He ran his hand through his hair, his teeth gritted as he closed his eyes, his composure slowly wearing thin. “I came fast because she’s my girlfriend… I’d like to think that anyone else would do the same thing. I broke a lot of traffic laws to get here as fast as I did.”

“Do you two ever fight? Does it ever get physically violent?” The officer rapidly tapped his pen against his notebook, the sound going straight to Seungmins head, driving him absolutely crazy. The assumptions were absolutely preposterous, only fueling his anger towards the entire situation.

“Look man, I don’t know what kind of information you’re fishing for, but I didn’t do anything. I’ve never laid my hands on her. I love her… And I really want to be with her right now. Can we be done with this?”

“So you love your girlfriend so much, you never laid a hand on her… Yet she’s covered in bruises? If we didn’t know any better, it looks as though someone might have mistook her for a punching bag.” Seungmins stomach dropped as he listened to the officer, and while he knew that he himself hadn’t been the one to cause those marks on you, a certain rage built inside of him as he tried to think about who would hurt you like that. “Do you know of any accidents she might have been in to cause her kneecap to be entirely shattered? Do you know anything at all?”

His head shook as his tears finally began to fall. You had never told him anything… What had happened to you while he was away? “I… I don’t know… I’d just really like to see her… Please…” His head dropped into his hands as he sobbed quietly, his body shaking with ragged breaths.

Seungmin was no help to the investigation, and the officer quickly realized that, helping him out of his chair and then leading him out of the room, motioning towards the closed door that would soon open and reveal you to him. Were you awake yet? He had so many questions that he wanted to ask you, but the biggest question of all was why… Why would you do something like that? If you answered that one question, he’d have the answer to a lot of his other questions too.

The nurse let him into the room, and seeing you, it had his heart breaking. You looked so weak, so fragile, your arms were completely wrapped up in gauze, your leg had been casted and hooked to a strap in the ceiling to keep it elevated. “Are you sleeping?” Seungmin whispered as he got closer to your bed, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stood beside you. The IV for the blood that was being pumped into you had to be inserted in one of the veins in your neck, the sight of it causing a cold chill to run up his spine. “I’m here now…”

“Do you… believe me… now?” Your voice was so quiet, and your eyes were still shut, if there had been other people in the room he would have sworn it was someone else talking, but you were the only one there, and now he was trying to think of what you could possibly mean. “Was this… enough?”

His hands held onto yours a little tighter as the reels in his mind turned, trying to understand what you were talking about, but nothing was coming up. “What are you talking about? I always believe you… What happened? Tell me, please… I want to help you… I don’t want this to happen again… Talk to me…”

Your fingers twitched against his own, yet your eyes seemed to be glued shut, and even as he was watching your face, it didn’t even look like your mouth was moving even though words were coming out. “People are bad… Seungmin…” People are bad…. What does that even mean? What do you mean? Your answers were only creating more questions for him.

“Visiting hours are over now, sir.” The nurse said from the door. He hadn’t been given enough time though, he needed to know, he needed to know what you were talking about. His head shook rapidly as he kept watching over you. He didn’t want to leave you, even if you didn’t answer any more of his questions, he wanted to stay beside you. “She needs to rest, sir… You can come back in the morning to see her. Okay?”

It’s not like he had a choice, and he didn’t want to have to be escorted out by the officer who interrogated him, so he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before walking backwards to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow as early as I can… I promise. I’ll be back.”

People are bad… He mulled over the words in his head as he walked through the parking lot and climbed into his car. What the hell did it mean? He couldn’t ask you now… And the only place he could go for any sort of answer was your dorm. Was it still taped off? It’s not like it was a crime scene… It should be open.

The building wasn’t too far from the hospital, he was there within ten minutes, and when he pulled up he could see a group of people sitting on the bench outside smoking a cigarette. You always told him how you hated that, having to walk through the cloud of smoke just to get to the front doors, and it seemed like they would purposely blow it in your direction… People are bad… He’d always tell you that it was just the wind blowing it towards you, that people wouldn’t purposely do something like that.

“I can’t believe she actually did that. What a fucking drama queen.” “She didn’t even write a note. It’s like she was looking for attention.” “How embarrassing for her boyfriend. He’ll probably dump her. Nobody wants to date the campus suicide risk.” “Oh please, it was embarrassing for him to date her in general. I’m sure he only did it out of pity.” “Whatever, the bitch should have cut deeper.”

How could they talk so harshly about you? Were these the ones… the ones that you had told him about before? “Do you believe me now?” He hadn’t believed you then… If he had, would you have done this? He could have stopped them… He would have stopped them. They were still talking, loud enough for everyone to hear… And no one cared. No one cared enough to tell them to shut up, no one… You could be dead… And they talked about you like you were shit.

“Hey, at least we’ll have a couple days out of class… You know… For like… Guidance or whatever.” “Oh yeah… We’re super torn up about it…” “If she would have done it right we’d probably have a week or two. Ugh… I swear, she’s fucking useless.”

Red. All he saw was red as he got out of his car, slamming the door shut and going straight over to where they sat. “Shut up!” He shouted, and for a second, he thought they would keep quiet, but as soon as the initial shock wore off, they were all laughing. Their heads were thrown back as the boisterous laughter bounced off the walls of the building and rang in his ears. “I said shut up!” He screamed, and before he even realized what he was doing, his fist was cocked back and being thrown straight at the face of the girl who sat in front.

Now, Seungmin wasn’t a violent person, not usually, but you were his girlfriend, he almost lost you, and while some might say that a college relationship means nothing, his relationship with you meant everything to him. “Hey man! What the fuck!?” One of the other girls shouted, her hand quickly moving to the main girl's face to catch the blood that trickled down her nose. “You can’t just fucking hit people like that! You’re a psycho!”

Now it was his turn to laugh, his fists still balled up at his sides as he glared at every single person in front of him. “Really? I can’t just hit people like that but you can?!” The girl who had been hit scoffed loudly, her head rolling forward causing the blood to drip down her mouth and hang at her chin.

“Don’t worry, he’s just the bitches boyfriend. She’s too much of a loser to fight back herself, I guess she got her boyfriend to do it for her. Or maybe she’s just not alive to do it.” She stood up from the bench, a cocky smirk on her face as she looked at him. “I guess she’s getting all the attention she wanted now. I did your bitch a favor. You’re welcome.”

He completely lost it, he snapped, his hand flying back just to shoot forward, the smack that landed across the girl's face sounding much louder in the silence that surrounded them. “I find out any of you even so much as look at her… I’ll slit all your fucking wrists and break both your fucking knee caps. I’ll make you suffer, I’ll make you wish you were dead. I can and I will ruin you… Remember that.”

He wasn’t this kind of person… Not before he had met you, but seeing you in the hospital bed, knowing that he had almost lost you forever, it had sparked something inside of him. He wants to protect you, he wants to keep you safe, and if that meant having to be like this… Then he’d do it without hesitation. People are bad… You weren’t wrong, people are awful… But he’d do everything and anything to keep those people away from you, to protect you from them. He’d stop at nothing to make sure that this never happens again.

390 notes · View notes

andiv3r · 11 months ago

Text

So. I need to make a whole post about lots of things but I've decided that dermatillomania is one of them. Cw for blood and lots of skin-picking stuff below.

Story time. I remember in eighth grade, my religion teacher pulled me out into the halls to talk to me, and my first thought was, "Oh shit, another one," because the previous religion teacher had put me through hell and back for being queer (which was information I had not even shared with her). I braced to have an awkward conversation about my love life and gender identity for the second time in two years. Instead, she pointed at my arm.

"What's that?" She asked. I glanced down at my arms, covered in scabs, red and radiating heat from where I'd been picking for hours. "Your skin, I mean. Why is it... like that?"

Oh. Right. She was new. She didn't know.

"Genetic skin condition." I replied. "It's not really that bad on its own, but I pick at it whenever I'm nervous or upset or sad or bored or... just kind of whenever." She opened her mouth and I interrupted before she could say it. "I've tried to stop, and I've tried wearing long sleeves, and I've tried medicine, and I keep my nails short, but it doesn't help, so... yeah. Don't worry about it. It's not contagious or anything, it's genetic."

Her face scrunched into a frown, but she didn't say anything else and told me to return to my English class. I did.

Later that day, I had to go to Science class. The worst of them, at least in terms of places I picked at my arms. The teacher was nice enough, but I fucking hated science as a class. So, while everyone else was taking notes, I ran my hand along my arms. They were warm. Wet in some places, from the blood that had pooled around some bumps. But most of all, they were so... bumpy. So easy to just... pinch. Squeeze. Scratch.

I walked out of Science class that day with my left arm covered in bloody spots. Shit. My mom was gonna kill me.

No.

Don't think about her.

Don't do it, or else you'll get nervous, and when you get nervous you-

Too late. The fingers that had been rhythmically tapping my desk in Pre-Algebra were now tracing my jawline, searching for...

Ah. There.

Pinch. Squeeze. Scratch. Move my fingers up a bit to my cheek. Pinch. Squeeze. Scratch. Move. Pinch. Squeeze. Scratch. Move. Pinch. Squeeze. Scratch. Move, pinch, squeeze, scratch, move, pinch, squeeze, sc-

"[deadname], your face is bleeding!" I jerked my hands away from my face and stared down at my fingers, their tips stained crimson. So it was.

"Ah. Yeah. D'you have a kleenex?" I replied to the alarmed blond beside me.

"Uh... yeah." He passed one over with a frown. He knew about my skin-picking, so I'm not sure why he was so surprised. Maybe it was the blood. I licked my fingers, wetting them so that the blood would come off. It didn't.

The bell rang.

I swung my backpack onto my back and felt the fabric rub against my raw and open skin.

Well that fucking hurts, but I did it to myself, so I ignored it. I could've just stopped picking, as my mother so often reminded me. I should've just stopped.

I mean, it's not like I had some mental condition I didn't know about that was fueling this, right?

When my mom picked me up from after hours that day, both of my arms were red, both from blood and inflammation. Scabs littered every place in my skin that I could reach. The first thing she did was pull up my sleeve and her frown turned into a scowl.

"Really, [deadname]? Seriously? After all I told you about how that's horrible for your skin? Do you want to be so ugly no boy will want to date you?"

That did sound pleasant, actually, but I didn't need to tell her that. Besides, that wasn't why I was doing it. To be honest, there wasn't really a why. I didn't even realize I was doing it, usually, until I had. I zoned out as she ranted about how I'd never be able to wear a swimsuit, I would have permanent scars, and as I did, my left hand trailed up my arm, grazing the warm, itchy, painful bumps.

Pinch. Squeeze. Scratch.

#dermatillomania #keratosis pilaris #andiv3r rambles #yeah sorry guys #had to get this one out there #cw blood #tw blood

15 notes · View notes

i-can-even-burn-salad · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 41

Glass Shards

Warnings: Painful wound cleaning and quite some thoughts about death

Previous | Masterlist | Next

It was past noon when Merridy stirred. For the last few hours, Damien had alternated staring at her, staring at the ceiling and dozing off. The pain, while unpleasant, wasn’t enough to keep him from finding rest, but now he was thirsty as well. A bit of water, that was all he could think of. The dryness of his throat made it impossible to focus on anything else.

The waterskin was long empty. But besides not knowing if he’d even be able to get up on his own, Damien had neither wanted to wake Merridy up, nor leave her alone.

The way she flinched and opened her eyes, looking around in a panic before her gaze settled on him, told him he had been right about it. He would have hated for her to wake up and find him gone.

“Hey,” he said.

She relaxed, the hint of a smile on her face. It didn’t reach her eyes. They looked tired still, and full of worry.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Thirsty,” he said, with no intention to mention the steady painful pulse in his side, or how his missing hand tormented him. It burned, as if to remind him what was going to happen if the wound became infected.

Merridy turned around, feeling for the waterskin and finding it empty.

“I was just about to get some water,” Damien quickly said, before she had a chance to somehow blame herself for it. It wasn’t even a lie; he had waited to fetch water until she was awake, and she was awake now.

“I can do it.”

“I need to go out anyway,” Damien said.

“Then I’ll come with you.”

He should decline, should let her rest. Instead, he only nodded. If he collapsed out there and hurt himself further, it would be worse. For both of them.

Merridy freed herself from the blanket, wincing as she got up with the deliberate motions of someone trying to figure out which way to move hurt the least. Damien was careful to put as little weight as possible on her as she put her arm around him. Just feeling her at his side, knowing she’d be there if he stumbled, was help enough.

They left the stable and crossed the yard, consisting of mostly dry sand with a few hardy weeds littered throughout. In the light of day, the way to the outhouse seemed much shorter.

When he emerged, Merridy was standing at the well, refilling the waterskin. He must have stared at it, for she offered it to him as soon as he was close enough. Damien took it from her, gulping down half of its content without pause.

“We should eat something,” Merridy said while he caught his breath. Her tone was somewhere between a question and an observation, but she made no attempt to elaborate.

“Mhm.” Damien took another sip, slower this time. He wasn’t hungry. Exhausted, and in pain, but not hungry. But he knew she was right. He let his gaze wander over the buildings inside the trading post. “Think we can get something here?”

Merridy pointed behind her, without turning. “Kitchen’s there. Backdoor around the corner. For a smile and a few coins, we can get whatever’s on the menu that day, and some things that aren’t.”

Damien followed her gaze. The building she had pointed to was attached to the most maintained one, walls painted white between gleaming, dark wooden beams. A painted sign hung above the entrance, too far away for him to read the name.

“When did you get to know this place so well?”

“I needed some things to take care of your wound.” She shrugged. “The innkeeper is a real piece of work, so I tried my luck going directly to the source.”

Damien nodded in an attempt to not let his emotions show. They had been here for barely a day, and he had spent most of that asleep, while Merridy had taken care of everything. That would be barely acceptable if she was fine, but she wasn’t. He could see that she was tired and in pain. He had to do better. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

“I’ll get some coins,” she said before he had a chance to find the right words. “Do you want to come with me, or do you think you’ll make it to the buildings?”

“I’ll be fine,” he quickly assured her, not feeling quite as confident. But walking all the way back to the stables only to return here seemed to be an even worse idea.

“Around that corner,” she reminded him, pointing at it. “I’ll be right back.”

Walking hadn’t been this hard in a long time. Slowly setting one foot in front of the other, Damien hadn’t even made it to the corner by the time Merridy was back at his side. She put his arm around her shoulders and led him the rest of the way. Next to the back door she had been talking about, she helped him sit down on a plain wooden bench; barely more than a roughly cut board propped on two logs.

Damien let her handle the talking, and a moment later they sat next to each other on the bench, a cup of broth in hand. It smelled heavenly. Eyes closed, Damien leaned back against the wall, enjoying the warmth of the late spring sun.

“Damien! Hey!”

He startled awake, flinching as he realized he wasn’t holding the cup anymore. His hand flew over his clothes, searching for wetness, but finding none. When he raised his head, Merridy was looking at him, an expression somewhere between worry and amusement on her face—and holding both cups.

“You need to drink this,” she said, and the worry clearly won. “Then we can go back inside and you can rest.”

Not daring to close his eyes again, Damien looked across the yard. There really wasn’t much to see if one wasn’t into dandelions and dust. He was not, so he let his gaze wander to Merridy while he sipped his broth. She had bound a kerchief over her hair, probably in an attempt to not look completely disheveled when talking to the staff. Damien vowed that as soon as he could sit up without falling asleep, he’d find out if her brush had survived the ambush.

After they had finished their broth, Merridy took the cups back and helped him into the stable. Seeing the nest of hay and blankets was just as much of a relief as seeing a bed would have been. Damien lowered himself to the ground with a groan.

“No sleeping yet,” Merridy chided. Her words were light, but their tone didn’t match.

Damien watched through half-lidded eyes how she grabbed her things, spreading them on the blanket next to her. She pulled his shirt over his head, and unwrapped the bandages, putting them aside. As she wiped along the wound, the wet fabric was cool on his skin, but burned on his wound. From time to time she paused, prodding at something, the noises she made entirely discouraging. Damien didn’t look at what she was doing. He couldn’t. Suddenly, it felt like there was too little air inside the stable. It wasn’t enough. He dug his fingers into the blanket, pressing his lips together in the desperate attempt to fight down the nausea.

“I’m sorry. Does it hurt?” She bit her lip. “Of course it does. That was… sorry.”

How easy it would be to say ‘yes’. It wouldn’t have been a lie, but it also wouldn’t have been the truth. He couldn’t tell her how afraid he was; of the fever, the pain, the memories. Of leaving her alone.

“I’m scared,” was all he managed to choke out. His eyes were burning, and he couldn’t even be ashamed of it.

Merridy raised her hand to his cheek. “Me too,” she admitted. Her voice was trembling. “Perhaps we can pay someone to drive us to the next town. Find a healer. If it gets worse. Or before it gets worse. Or… I don’t know,” she whispered.

She knew as well as him how risky that would be. If they wanted to find a good healer, they’d have to go to one of the bigger towns—and bigger towns had guards. They were closer now to Caldeia than they had been in Dragon’s Reach. With how weak he was, there was no way for him to keep a disguise up. Faintly, he wondered what would be worse. Risking death from infection, or risking death with a rope around his neck.

“I won’t let you die.”

Merridy’s voice pulled him out of his desperate thoughts. He leaned into her palm, knowing very well how easily those words could turn into an empty promise. Her thumb moved, wiping away some of his tears. Damien focused on her touch, and on the hope that had brought him this far. He would cling to it until the end.

When he had calmed down, Merridy leaned back, giving him a questioning look.

“Go on,” he said. “Do what you have to do. Don’t stop. Just…” He looked around, scanning the pile of their belongings. “Can you give me that?”

Merridy followed his gaze, grabbing the end of a leather belt poking out under a bunch of fabric and raising it with a questioning look. Damien nodded. The last thing they needed was to be thrown out of the stables as well, because he scared the horses—or patrons—with his screams.

He bit down on the belt as she picked up where she had left off. Cleaning his wound was its own kind of torture. Damien pressed his head against the wall, tears running down his face as he fought to make no sound. He wouldn’t let the memories take over. He wouldn’t beg for her to stop. He wouldn’t do that to her.

By the time Merridy was done, Damien was barely conscious anymore. He opened his eyes as she took the belt from him, finding her face wet from tears. Speaking was too hard, but he raised his hand to her knee, resting his fingers on it.

He let her pull him away from the wall, so she could wrap fresh bandages around his torso. The stable started spinning around him, and Damien squeezed his eyes shut. He was so cold. Even after she had helped him put his shirt back on and lie down, he was still shaking.

Merridy pulled the blanket up to his chin. “I have to clean up, but I will be back in a moment,” she said, lingering with her hand on his cheek.

Damien wasn’t sure he managed to nod. He wasn’t even sure how long she was gone. All he knew was that no time seemed to have passed at all when she lifted the blanket, to slip under it.

Merridy bedded her head on his arm, facing him. When Damien let his eyelids flutter open, he found her eyes still red, but her tears dried. She smiled at him, even if it couldn’t hide the sorrow in her eyes. Sorrow Damien hated to see. He pressed his fingers against her back, lacking the strength and the range of motion to pull her closer. She huddled closer anyway, wrapping the blanket tightly around the two of them before resting her hand on his neck.

Her warmth was a blessing. Slowly, the tension left him, strained muscles finally able to relax. There was nothing he could do now but hope and rest, so Damien let himself be lulled to sleep, with her soft touch on his jaw, and her whispered promise of ‘You will be fine’.

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

@dont-touch-my-soup @starrysky-whumpfics @kixngiggles @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

#Glass Shards #whump #fantasy whump #lady whump #painful wound cleaning #my writing

22 notes · View notes

futureplayboibunnie · 2 years ago

Text

‘Exhaustion’

Dr Strange x fem! Avenger! reader

SMUT SMUT SLUT SMUT

im so tired, i’m sorry if its shit pls bare w me.

omg Stephen and you stuck in a cabin forced to get along…God knows what’ll happen.

MDNI leave nooooooow.

'Stephen,' You stifled in warning and surprise, slinging your bag onto the bedroom door, 'why is there only one bed?'

He rushed to see if you were jerking his leg, to see if you were actually telling the truth and not sneaking around like a cat in the dark. He rolled his eyes and groaned as his feet found his place in the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes rolled at the sight infront of him and he let out a low exasperated groan.

'I'm just gonna make a quick call." He whisked away as fast as he came, your heart was littered with goosebumps and a shiver ran a course between your shoulder blades. You heard the richness of his voice as he buzzed against the landline phone.

'Tony, your attempts to make me play house with everyone on the team is all in vain and a waste of time. You're not that idiotic are you?' Stephen winced as the phone was nestled against his ear, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in a fit of frustration. His patience was wearing thin at Tony, trying to make him play nicely with everyone on the team just to torture him.

'I'm going to ignore the fact you called me stupid because I'm that generous. This all started with your inability to get along with any of us, so therefore you're reaping what you're sowing thus it is actually not my fault. See the equation?' Tony snorted back at him.

'Here's what I don't understand,' Stephen let out a dry sarcastic laugh, 'for all the others you've made me stay in the safehouse with so we could 'get along' there were two beds. Two. So why is there only one with Y/N?'

Tony huffed a laugh against the phone.

'Uhm, becuase you don't give goo goo eyes to anyone else but her. I have this feeling that she's the one that can fix you for me.’

'Fix me?' Stephen raised an eyebrow but he wasn't denying Tony's goo goo eyes comment.

'Dear God, you need to get laid.' Stephen could hear the humour play on Tony's breath, and it made him annoyed as well as self conscious. Way too self conscious about something he shouldn't even be entertaining or thinking about.

'You took our phones away, what the hell are we supposed to do for a weekend? '

'Sex. Hate-sex. ' Tony stated briefly before hanging up, Stephen heard the death of the line and felt his eye twitch after hanging up the landline.

He was frenzied and stormy, Stephen was fiddling with his fingers which he never usually does probably because he was alone in a cabin with you. He never worked in a team, never due to the pompous demeanour of his ego and his inability to harbour empathy for people he didn't like but you were more than willing to challenge him, play at his final game. The others just moaned and groaned in frustration at him and his ministrations but you playfully insulted him, no holding back, going right for the jugular when he least expected it. He couldn't help his feelings be hurt a little and he didn't like that you had the ability to do that.

And now he was here alone with you, he hadn't really dabbled with the idea of fucking you, he was slightly intimidated if anything but you could see right through him; the flaws that he was too blind to see. Tony lodged that thought into his head now and he couldn't shake it no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his mind.

Stephen went back up the stairs and he found you sitting at the edge of the bed in the bedroom. You were absolved in your own thoughts, quiet in a way he'd never seen and it stunted him. You were chewing at your lip and it piqued his interest. You were rubbing your hands atop of your thighs as if you were...impatient. He cocked his head to the side and psychoanalysed you as he does with everyone else since he had full view of you now.

Pretty. Really pretty. Pretty eyes, magnetic eyes. Lips. Kissable lips.

No. Not now. Not ever.

You were knocked out of your daze when you saw Stephen's frame by the door.

'So what'd the asshat say?' You quipped with a monotonous tone.

'One bed, gave no reason as to why.' He lied and again he feared you saw through him once again. He feared that a sweat was about to break free from his forehead when you squinted your eyes and raised an eyebrow.

You gazed up at Stephen with big doe eyes, your thoughts were running rampant with all of these outcomes. Sleeping on the same bed? No way.

'Ever slept with a real life woman before?' You crossed your arms as you questioned playfully, pondering upon socially forbidden grounds when it comes to a man you don't consider even an acquaintance.

'Yeah, lots. Made them cry in pleasure and die from exhaustion.' His mouth was forming words on their own, he didn't mean to have his voice sound as low as it did but it just happened.

You recoiled an inch until an awkward smile appeared on your face due to the misinterpretation of your question, of course he thinks he's the shit in bed. You secretly didn't expect anything else.

'I meant sleep as in sleep next to a woman.' You clarified. Stephen should be embarrassed but if anything he was feeling confident, he didn't know where this sudden surge came from but he was tapping into it.

He hadn't given in that easily, ever.

'No, no woman has ever interested me enough for me to actually stay the night.’ A massive dumbass smirk encased his face and you wanted to kick it in.

'You sure you even like women at this point Strange? Is it because you constantly lose to women such as myself?' You played your hand at flirting by disgusing it as an insult. It was fun playing this game, it's the most fun you've had with another Avenger and you were feeling your oats.

'You're unbearable.' He shot back at you with creased eyes.

'And your insults are lukewarm at least. It's almost as bad as your Avenging. Come on, what happened to you being the cold and mean big bad of the team?' You teased, mimicking the same facial expressions. You stood up and finally made your long awaited way to him.

On a whim, he immersed himself in that goal. He cqn play at the insulting game.

'I think you're a spoiled daddy's girl who doesn't take no for an answer and expects every man to sleep with her, sorry I mean fuck you because spreading your legs are easier than admitting you have no real asset or skill whatsoever.' Stephen's sly cheshire cat smile and the roaring insult made your breath halt.

Damn, but playing along is easy for you too.

'Misogyny, Doctor? Well, I think you couldn’t tell your face from your ass even if it was plastered in Times Square. " You inched closer, ‘'I think the Sanctity of Life means nothing to you, you only share your gospel of goodness onto other people so you can convince yourself that you own the moral fucking highground and that your moral compass is more intact than any of ours.’' inching closer again, ‘'You've killed people but you try to convince yourself that you're still a Doctor that wants to save people from death well guess what..? You're an Avenger now- casualities happen.’’ You inched for the final time. '’You wave around your doctorate as if it means anything to anyone, if anything I think your doctorate is compensating for something that you lack.'’ Your eyes cast down to where his dick was, you were so close to him your eyes connected like an unbreakable chain. An unbreakable bond.

'Hm.' He smirked as he let out a short exhale from his nose, staring down at you as if you were gratifying him of sorts which confused you.

"Struck a nerve?' You questioned lowly, he wasn't sure if it was rhetorical or not but it made his mind whirr in ways he hadn't stretched out before.

"Teach me then.’

'What?'

'Teach me to be a good Avenger then since you're so good at it.' He responded in an abnormally soft tone and it internally stunned you as well as confused you. He was asking you to teach him, the man that was furiously independent wanted your notes on how to be better.

You jumped at the opportuntity to give it to him.

'Fine.' You swiftly made your way past Stephen, giving him incentive to follow you down the stairs, and like the 'obedient' man he was he traced your steps along with you. He hated the way you hypnotized him, your smart mouth was something admirable as well as annoying.

'I could really hurt you, you know." He sucked at his teeth in prolonged frustration as you both found yourselves in the living room. Swivelling around, your eyes radiated a dangreously playful yet warm and welcoming glow.

He knew a plan was devising in your head, the cat chasing after the mouse.

'You're pretty shit at combat Stephen. Let's not sugar things up and beat around the bush.' You voice was laced in blatant sarcasm; this man was so full of himself in every aspect in life and you decided to make it your own pesonal mission to knock him down a peg or seventy two.

You had noticed his small smirks when he thought you weren't looking and you found it very odd considering he despised every single member on the team, it perked you up a little. Maybe he was bringing out a new side of himself. And it was towards you.

'You wound me.' He pouted in faux mockery, you were stunned by his playful attitude and the fact that he was finally beginning to loosen up, the knots binding his ego were starting to unwind. If you said that to him infront of the others he would have started yelling at you and you would have both butted heads with steamed ears entertaining a screaming match.

Without hesitation, you swung at him with a fist and he instinctively ducked.

'Show me then, show me that you can't get your ass beat by me." You breathed with a smug smile splitting your smug face in half. He hated that you were so pleased with yourself and so ready to prove yourself right, but what he hated the most was how hot you looked doing it.

'Your own stupidity is gonna get your ass beat actually.' He tutted at you like a condescending parent.

He swung a fist at you first this time and you dodged it with ease. You grasped at his outstretched fist and twisted his arm enough that made you travel to the back of him, your front facing his back. He winced in pain and to top it all off you kicked the back of his knee and he dropped to his knees on the floor.

'Fuck.' He groaned softly and under his breath, to say that it caught you off gaurd was an understatement. His voice. So deep and...attractive. Your surroundings went blurry as your eyes unfocused, you grip on him loosened.

He lit up at the feeling and stood up and elbowed you in the face a lot harder than he meant to.

Your pained grunt snapped him back to reality and he felt an overwhelming wash of guilt course through him. Stephen turned to console you and absolve himself of fault. Your hands covered your nose and the skin of it made your groans buzz and muffle.

'Oh shit, I'm sorry I did that way too hard. Let me see, is it bleeding?'

He said softly, his eyes pleading blue. His hands were placed on the sides of your arms

Annoyance haywiring through you, you shook his hands off of you and you started mumbling as you made your way to the bathroom to check if you had broken it or not. Without warning, you felt a latching and a quickfire tug on your waist. Stephen conjured an orange fuzzy Eldreich whip with a quick quirk of his fingers and made it latch onto your waist, he tugged it back a bit and it made you clumsily twirl back into his arms.

In a swift daze, the world went blurry until the only thing you could view was Stephen's stern yet worried face. It took you a while to notice that your hands rested up on his forearms to steady yourself. A surpised exhale exited your mouth, your eyebrows creased and knitted in confusion.

Your heart dropped into your lungs as his hands were placed on your waist, the whip finally dissapating into thin air to whence it came.

'I said let me see.' He clarified with the same stern tone as his same stern face. Stephen lifted his hands to touch tenderly upon your face to inspect your injury. You weren't sure if you were red because of the hit or red because of the heated blush that was readily expectant on your skin.

'It's fine Stephen.' You tried to wriggle your way out of his hold but you were stifling against him, as you felt his stare boring into you…you finally made eye contact with him once more. You blinked up at him dumbly and his hands found hospice on your waist again, your breathing became more shallow and laboured. His eyes flitted to your lips and how the parted for him so readily and you began to melt into him, your body had a mind of its own.

Stephen was done fighting the urge to kiss you to make you shut up. He felt that gravity was collapsing beneath him and the air in the atmosphere felt thicker than before. Every breath, every pupil dialation was palpable by you both. Stephen's gaze darkened and you felt more seen than ever

'You okay?' He whispered.

'No.’

You had more balls than him and made that clear by leaning in first. Your lips shattered against his and no hint of finesse was found in your midst, he mirrored your eagerness and you opened your mouth for him to taste at. And like clockwork, he did. You tasted like cherries, no doubt due to your incessant chewing of gum and he revelled in the sheer sweetness of it all. His tongue discovered a new flavour, you. And it instantly became his favourite. Your hands carded through his hair and tugged slightly making him breathe into your mouth.

You ripped your lips away from Stephens to take a much needed breath. Eyes still screwed shut, your foreheads rested against one another.

'Aren't you supposed to hate everybody?' You let out an exasperated exhale, your warm breath fanning his face.

'Yes.’

Stephen didn't give you enough time to respond, his mouth crashed against your again but this time he bent down to feel up and grab the back of your thighs to hoist you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms slung around him with no time to lose. He smirked into your lips at your forwardness, you were insatiable and it drove him mad. Completely mad. Stephen walked you up the stairs and it felt like time was moving at a snail like pace, you thought he was doing it on purpose just to torture you. You tugged harder on his hair in retaliation.

Stephen kicked open the bedroom door and placed you onto the side of the bed, you were desperate for him to just rip your clothes off already but he was enjoying the slowburn. The delicious slowburn. Being between your legs was a wet dream come true for him, he was so full of pent up frustration annoyance and arousal and he needed an outlet, he needed you as an outlet and so much more it was bordering on pathetic but he couldn't deny his need for you any longer. He was fawning over you now, lips still connected, as you were sitting on the edge and he was standing.

'Stephen, touch me.' You breathed sensually, just begging for him to finally put his hands on you. Your petty arguments all had to inevitably lead up to this moment and your patience was thinner than ever.

'There's so many things I want to do to you. Say you want me and I'm yours.’ He grunted lowly at you, his eyes met yours in an animalistic daze.

'I want you.' You clarified, slightly annoyed that you had to pump up his ego.

'How bad?' Stephen smirked down at you.

'Stephen.’ You cautioned and warned in a cold gaze, of course he wanted to drag this out and inflate his arrogance even more in the process.

'Show me how bad.' He ignored your warning.

Your lips thinned into hard line. Without thinking, you aggressively undid his belt and unzipped his pants. Stephen let out a low gasp at your actions, he couldn't believe all of this was unfolding infront of his eyes. Your eyes flitted from his crotch to his face and you knew what you wanted to do next.

You couldn't control the ferocity of your fuck me eyes. You stuffed your hand into his pants and boxers.

'Woah..Easy, easy.' He whistled as he tried to tame you but he was the one who asked for this.

'You can take it.' You gritted.

You pulled his cock out of its confines and you were irritated at the fact he was...um...huge. Secretly, you dreamed it was but now he had the means to actually be full of himself. Your slender hand wrapped around him and slid up and down with ease due to the spit you slicked him up with, each quirk of your hand sent a jolt through him. You continued to edge him with just your hand before you finally put your mouth on him. Stephen's hand grasped at the roots of your flowing hair.

'Fuckkkk.' He groaned and slung back his head in pleasure.

Your mouth was so wet and warm and your saliva was just dripping out of you and onto him. It was sensational. He was so big that you had to wrap your hand around what couldn't fit. He obviously perked up at that. You suckled on his tip and your lips were becoming raw, red and swollen. Stephen could hear you gagging and choking on him and he almost felt bad. He could feel himself about to hit his peak and cum in your mouth, he wanted to wait to cum inside of you and feel at you but he physically couldn't do it. He released himself in your mouth was a gutteral rumbling groan.

He pulled you off of him and used his right hand to pinch and cradle your face upwards to stare him right in the eye. Stephens eyes were the bluest of blue but now they were black with lust, it made you spiral. He paused.

'Swallow.' He ordered softly and the wetness collecting inside of your panties was becoming increasingly prominent, your thighs rubbed together impatiently.

Your eyes didn't dare blink as you swallowed ever so obediently and stuck out your tongue to show the evidence. He completely lost it at that. Stephen reached back and pulled off his plain tee and pushed you down onto the bed harshly and all you could do was blink up at him like a surprised idiot His hands ripped off your shirt with ease and you gasped at the filthiness of it all. Your tits were exposed to the cool air.

'No bra?' He remarked like a horny teenager as he discarded the reminents of your top. Stephen pawed at the tender flesh and twisted your nipples and it made you whine into him.

'Shut up.' You kissed him to make him stop talking, you caught his lower lip with your teeth and bit down on it as punishment, he winced in pain and you smiled like a maniac.

His hands went doen to your waist to strip you of your leggings and they came off as quick as ever due to the sheer need of his to get you naked. Your body was magnificent, a temple and he wanted to worship it every day not just for tonight. Your underwear was barely visible and he bit his lip at the sight of your unclothed long legs and clear torso, he thought he was akin to that of a child at Christmas. He ripped down your underwear and the elastic burned against you.

Stephen felt his pants tighten at the mere sight of you. Your hair was strewn delicately over the pillows and your eyebrows were knitted in tense pleasure, your eyes were glowing with desperation and frustration and it was the sweetest of views. Stephen finally kicked his pants and boxers on and his skin was in contact with yours once again. He was obsessed with the feeling.

'You look good like this.' He complimented lowly and it made you blush surprisingly.

'I want to make you feel good Stephen.' You confessed breathlessly and dear God that shit eating grin was going to be the death of you.

You moaned at just the weight of him of being ontop of you. His body was carved to such a perfect degree you where visibly mad at it, everything about this asshole was so damn attractive- even his assholery was hot. Your arms scratched at his rippling back like a carnivore, you nails dug into him and he hissed into your mouth. Your lips were so damn soft and inviting, it was like he was sewn onto them.

Stephen guided his cock through your folds and you felt your back arch into him and your skin instantly felt hotter. Without warning he rammed himself into you and didn't give you the time of day to adjust, he just needed to hammer his cock into you until all you knew and could understand was him. Your walls were beginning to clamp down on him at a faster rate than socially acceptable, any other day you would've felt embarrassed but tonight you were brainwashed with desperation- too needy to even care. Your mouth was agape in pleasure.

You felt so wet and amazing, so slippery and it was all for him. He didn't think he would've ever got you in such a situation; finally biting the bullet and fucking you instead of arguing. The scene was all so filthy. Your eyelashes fluttered as you began to screw them shut but Stephen stopped you. His hand pinched and cradled your cheeks as he continuously rutted in and out of vou at a brutal yet delicious pace.

'No, let me see those eyes.' He growled at you and as obedient as ever, you obeyed. Your eyes were connected in firey carnal passion, it all felt like something out of a dream.

'Fuck Stephen! I think I'm gonna cum.' You cried at him as your fingers intertwined with his hair and tugged harder as if that made your point get across more.

He thought that was music to his ears.

'I can't get enough of you, you're so good...feel...you feel so good." He finally spat out inbetween prolonged breaths.

Stephen bit down at your neck and that sent you spiralling into another dimension, the scream that ripped out of you was other worldly and that set him off too. All you saw was white spots as delicious pleasure and pain warped through you and as if it was fate, Stephen came alongside you too. It was all so vulgar.

He breathed into your mouth and left a quick, swift, chaste kiss on your swollen lips before ultimately rolling off and laying beside you. Mouths suddenly dry but the excessive panting. A small smug smile began to form on your face and Stephen could literally hear it.

'I think you broke me.' He quipped and you turned to face him, he tried to conceal his smirk but he failed miserably.

'You liked it.' You raised a knowing eyebrow and he hated that you saw right throuh him again.

'I'm supposed to hate you, aren't I?' Stephen's eyes bore into yours and you instincitvely raised your hand to play with his salt and pepper hair and he melted into your touch once more.

‘Well, you proved that wrong, haven't you?' You rubbed salt into the wound playfully. You finally rested your entire weight on him by slinging your leg around him and resting your head at the base of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you and you felt so safe in his arms.

'Well who am I to deny someone who looks even hotter with their eyes rolling to the back of their head.' He laughed into your hair

"Thank God you didn’t make me die of exhaustion then.’’

—————

dear god i got so lazy at the end 😭😭

#dr stephen strange #dr strange angst #dr strange fluff #dr strange x fem!reader #dr strange x y/n #stephen strange smut #dr strange smut #stephen strange

277 notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

Text

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky.

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue.

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!”

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him.

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers.

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him.

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

****************

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours, Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

larryjohnsonsbitch · 3 years ago

Text

Possesive!Larry x reader

i said it would be out tomorrow but i’m god so it’s here now haha

let me know if you would like me to make one with gender neutral pronouns

word count: 2593

she/her pronouns

Warnings: smut, alcohol, possesive behaviour, sal x reader kiss,

You had been dating Larry for a while now, he’s your first boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier with him. He always comes to your work during your breaks and even sits down at a table and orders drinks while he waits you to finish your shift, so there he sat now looking at you so tenderly it made your heart race. He had been here for around 2 hours, ordering various drinks while switching between watching you and going on his phone, the only thing you worried about was how long he had been waiting for you, and that you still had another hour ‘till knock off. So, you continued serving tables and taking orders, making sure he was okay when you could to which he’d reply “I love you enough to wait” with a squeeze of your arm, it didn’t really answer the question but nothing stopped him from leaving so it stayed like that until you finished and as you took of the apron which the restaurant made you wear you felt a pair of arms around your waist and a face nestling into your neck, you laughed. Spinning around to face him and peck his cheek. “I don’t like you talking to all those guys” he pouted “why can’t you just stay with me” he finished the sentence with a kiss to your head and you had never felt more loved.

“I would love to stay with you, Larry, but I have to work so I can pay rent” you smiled, setting down the apron, taking his hand in yours and lightly squeezing it. “lets go, love”

You and Larry walked back to the apartments, hand in hand, until you reached his room. Flopping down on the bed he opened his arms for you to come cuddle him, you happily obliged settling between his legs, your head on his chest as you listened to his heart, his hand made its way to your hair tugging on some strands as he brushed through it with his fingers. “I’ve seen all of you and your flaws ,I still love all of you so much” he said into your hair “I don’t think many others would”

The sentence sat wrongly in your stomach, you couldn’t tell why though. He was right. Not many people would love you flaws and all. So in response you lifted your head, pressed a kiss to his lips

“I know” you said lips still so close you could feel his breath.

The two of you laid like that for hours before Larry spoke again. “Sal invited me over for a movie tomorrow, I want you to come too seems its your day off. I hate when we’re apart” you agreed to go and before you knew it you were asleep, nestled closely to Larry.

The next day you and Larry were at Sal, Todd and Neil’s place snacks in hand, Larry’s arm was around your waist as you waited for Sal to answer the door. Todd and Neil were out for a date for the day so Sal had the place to himself. The front door opened revealing Sal, his hair down and mask on but with the lower straps unbuckled to allow him to eat, he stepped back allowing you and Larry through the door. “hey guys, good to see you” you couldn’t se his face but you assumed he was smiling by the way his mask moved upward. You walked inside Larry’s hand on your waist felt much tighter now.

“yeah dude, wouldn’t miss watching a horror movie with you man” Larry said while making himself comfortable on the couch in front of the tv, snacks discarded on the coffee table, the horror you were about to be watching was sitting beside them , ‘Scream’ it had been released earlier this year but you had never gotten around to seeing it. Sal came over sitting beside Larry, putting himself in the middle, you sat beside him turning to look at Larry he looked a little annoyed.

“you alright, love?” you asked, trying to make sure he was alright.

“come here” he said his voice was soft but far too stern, your eyebrows perked up as you got up going to stand in front of him awkwardly, he grabbed your hands a little too hard as he pulled you into his lap. You were shocked as he wrapped his arms around you caging you in, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“how’s your day been dude” Larry asked Sal, Sal seemed just as surprised as you were, his ears were red. He was probably embarrassed to be sitting right next to Larry as that happened.

“uh, uhm, alright I guess” he said, grabbing the movie and putting it into the DVD player. “are you guys going to that party on Saturday?”

“I mean I would like to..” You looked to Larry, you wanted to go but wouldn’t go if he wasn’t coming.

Larry obviously got the hint as he said “Yeah, it’d be cool to see everyone” and that was the end of the conversation. You each settled in, getting comfortable as Sal pressed play on the movie

The movie was great and you all ended up more comfortable at the end of it, despit the multiple scares you had.

“oh yeah! Sal you just got the Nintendo 64, right?” you said, you nearly completely forgot to ask, you had heard Larry mention it briefly and you wanted to see if Sal would let you come over so you and him could play together sometime.

“yeah, I did, why? You wanna play sometime?” he asked

“omg, yes please! I was gifted Mario Cart but I haven’t been able to play it yet” you pouted and Sal laughed “but yeah I’d love to play it together if that chill with you?” you hardly noticed Larry grip tightening around your hips as you talked.

“yeah, that’d be awesome! Come ‘round whenever, you’re always welcome” you smiled at the words and he rubbed the back his neck; that’s when Larry started lightly biting the sweet spot on your neck, your back arched and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any sounds. Your face was hot and you felt far too embarrassed to stay in the room.

“i-I-I I’m just gonna quickly go to the bath-bathroom” your words struggled to come out smoothly due to the embarrassment. You quickly rushed to the bathroom; hands braced against the bathroom sink as you tried to calm down. Once your face was no longer burning and your heart and breathing were steady once more you stood up as straight as you could and walked out hearing the hushed whispers of Sal and Larry, they were fighting. You didn’t wanna intrude but it was hard not to let curiosity beat you.

“dude, I don’t like her what the fuck, I would never do that” it was Sal

“why were you eye-fucking her since we walked through the door then” Larry was angrier than you had heard him before.

“I wasn’t, dude, I don’t know what’s going on but you can’t just embarrass a girl like that, she looked ready to cry before”

“so you do like her?”

“what! NO!” they weren’t whispering and you decided to make them stop by heading back to te bathroom and yelling back to them.

“you guys aright out there?” Larry was the one who answered

“yeah babe but I think we should get going now, I forgot that my mum asked me to help out with putting up a shelf”

“okay then” you walked back out to them, smiling, they couldn’t know that you had heard them. Sal was refusing to even look at you, you held onto Larry’s arm “thanks so much, for inviting us we had a lot of fun, right babe?” you tugged softly on Larry’s arm.

“yeah, sure” he rubbed his neck with his free hand and looked anywhere but at Sal.

“it was no problem, thanks for coming” you felt bad for leaving with Larry while they were on such bad terms but there wasn’t much else you could do. The entire walk back to the apartments Larry was pouty, stealing kisses when he could. As you got back he went to Lisa reluctantly following through with his lie to leave Sal’s. it was only an hour before he was back with you in his room listening to Sanity falls and acting like nothing was wrong.

…

You could hear the music and see the flashing lights of the party from a few houses away, you and Larry walked hand in hand, He squeezed three times ‘i.love.you’ you smiled squeezing back. It was a comfortable silence around you two, you had already talked about your days’ and what you planned to do tomorrow and your plans to move in together once you’d saved up enough money. It was nice, knowing you weren’t going to have to face all the new adult stuff you had to do now you were 20 and fully out of school, alone. As the party came into view you could see most people were already wasted, red cups littered across the lawn along with steamers and someone’s pants. You laughed at the sight; it was a bigger party than you had originally expected but you had no doubt you would at least know most the people there considering how small Nockfell was.

The music was some upbeat pop band and the house was smelt like beer and sweaty bodies. People were dancing and you and Larry had to force yourself through the crowd, it took a while but you eventually found the gang, even ash was there. You hugged each of them, complimented ash on her new hair and you all fell into conversation but the tension between Sal and Larry was obvious. Larry stopped you from drinking saying that he just wants you to be sober and that the alcohol isn’t good for you even as he made his way through his own drinks and after two hours the gang -minus Todd and Neil who had disappeared into a random bedroom earlier- and some kids you went to school with were in a game of spin the bottle. Larry and Sal sat opposite you and ash was a couple people away so far neither you, Larry or Sal had had to kiss anyone and it was soon Sals turn, he leaned forward spinning the bottle, it spun around quickly but a few seconds later it slowed. Landing on you.

The tension in the air was thick and you expected Sal to spin again, but he looked between you and Larry, once and then again; and just like that he was in front of you a hand to your cheek, he lifted his mask enough for his lips to show; you could feel him shaking through the hand on your cheek, your heart was hammering and you were to shocked to do anything but sit and desperately hope he was joking, but his lips brushed yours and then he pressed a soft kiss to you lips.

Larry had stood up, pushing Sal out of the way and grabbing your wrist tightly enough to bruise, he dragged you through the crowd of people and kicked people out of the bathroom before pushing you in and locking the door behind himself.

“Larry? I’m so sorry I was too shocked to move and i-“you were against the wall, Larry’s hands beside your head. He kissed you. It was burning, different to before, he was burning, and you would burn with him. His tongue was in your mouth exploring ever crevice of you, his knee rubbing between your legs

“can i?” despite the alcohol and anger, he cared enough to ask. You nodded

Pushed against the bathroom wall, the heat between your legs growing hotter as Larry licked a line up your neck stopping just before your ear where he softly bit your earlobe, you bucked your hips up to him trying to get any friction against your core. He chuckled in your ear his voice deep and arousing, it sent shivers down your spine as he started sucking and biting at your neck while he trailed one hand down your chest to the waist of your pants. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a hand through his hair softly tugging at strands, he groaned as he trailed his hand down further; you could feel his fingers through the fabric of your pants and desperately tried to get him to touch you more.

“such a needy little thing…” he whispered into your ear before removing your pants, he lifted your leg, holding it just under the underside of your knee. “up”. You happily obliged jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught your other leg pressing you harder against the wall to keep you up.

You could feel his length through his jeans and you grinded against it moaning softly as you did. “fuck” his hand slid upward to your inner thigh just below where you need him.

“tell me how much you need me” he growled, and the dark look in his eyes wasn’t like any expression you’d seen him make before. It was hot. So hot. Your arousal was dripping between your legs, you needed him like he was some form of drug and you loved it.

“I need you” you panted “so bad, Larry, please fuck me” you rolled your hips against his to emphasize and just like that something snapped in Larry. Within a couple movement his pants and boxers were at his ankles and his erection ready to enter your dripping sex, pre-cum leaked through the slit and tip was a gorgeous red. You stoked it lightly and Larry’s head tipped back, a moan echoing through the bathroom. His grip on your hips tightened and he positioned himself at your entrance, he rested his head on your shoulder.

“mine, mine, mine, mine, mine” with each word he started thrusting into you, your head hit the wall and you couldn’t hold back the chorus of moans that escaped you, his name fell off your lips like a prayer and he only went harder as you got louder.

His finger circled your clit, his mouth leaving hickeys across your chest. Your tears stained your cheeks at the overstimulation he was giving you. “every time I see you talk to someone, I wanna kill them. You’re mine, mine!” he hit your g-spot with each word, your fingers clawed down his back leaving marks. The knot that had developed in your abdomen was ready to burst and as your eyes rolled back you were no longer capable of words, only senseless babbles.

“I love you, I’d die without you” he moaned, as you came around his dick; And seconds later he was shooting his load inside you. He didn’t slow down though, and as you grasped onto his shoulders panting from your orgasm you realized he would continue fucking you until you couldn’t move.

“Larry” you pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing softly despite how hard he was slamming himself into you “I love you, I’m not leaving” a tear slipped from his eye landing on your chest. You knew why he was acting this way, he was scared you’d disappear, leave, like his dad and he would try and do everything in his power to make sure that you didn’t.

#sally face x reader #Larry x reader #Larry Johnson x reader #larry johnson #sally face #Larry Johnson x reader smut #sally face smut #smut

454 notes · View notes

heliads · 4 years ago

Text

Rainstorm

Y/N and Newt have been best friends ever since she arrived in the Glade. However, she might find that her feelings over the blond boy have changed, especially after the events of a rainy day.

masterlist

There’s a great clamoring around you, the tearing and shrieking of metal. You feel like your head is being pounded by an anvil, and you clap your hands to your skull, desperate to stop the pain. You realize you’re moving, the floor beneath you swaying as it is dragged up by some unseen chain. There are boxes around you, crates of something that you can’t see in the dark. The worst part isn’t the echoing din, or the insufferable darkness lit by sporadic bursts of fluorescents. The worst part is that you have no idea how you got here.

After a couple of seconds, you force yourself to stand up straight and look around. There are boxes littering the ground, yes, but you’re in a larger box yourself. Is that what this lurching, moving metal room is? There are four walls and a ceiling that seems to press in on you with every waking second. Just as you come to this conclusion, the room stops moving with a sudden jolt that sends you to the ground. Panic crests over you and you throw yourself to the edge of the room, hiding behind the stacks of boxes just as the ceiling is lifted away.

Bright, overwhelming sunlight flows into the room like a wave. You squint, careful not to make a sound even as your eyes water from the sudden light. You can see the dim silhouettes of a group of people standing over the room, looking in on you. They must not see you, because you can hear dim snatches of conversation being tossed back and forth in the space above you. “Shouldn’t there be a greenie? Where’s the new kid?” You have no idea what a greenie is, but you do have a sickening feeling that they’re expecting someone, someone who will turn out to be you.

After another moment of indecision, a boy jumps down into the room, causing the floor to shake slightly from the impact. He peers between the crates. Your breath comes harsh in your chest as you realize he must be looking for you. Your hand closes around something in an open box, and as you pull it out slowly, you realize your fingers are clenched around the grip of a knife. It’s not much, but at least you have a weapon.

The boy calls out to you now. “Hey, we know you’re there. There’s always someone in the Box. You can come out now, we’re not going to hurt you.” He takes a couple of steps closer, and you realize there’s no getting out of this. Might as well use the advantage of surprise while it’s still in your court. You stand up suddenly, stepping away from the shelter of the boxes. You point your knife towards the boy’s throat. For a second, the two of you stand there- you with your blade, him with a look of surprise coating his eyes.

Now that you’re both standing in the sunlight, you can see more of him. This boy has light dirty blond hair and warm brown eyes. His hands rise by his sides the second he sees your knife. “Hey, there’s no need for that. We’re not trying to hurt you.” Then his brow furrows and he takes a step forward, surprise overwhelming his previous hesitation. “Wait. You’re a girl.” You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be a girl?” The boy glances up at the silhouettes of the others still standing over the box. “Back off, guys. She’ll be fine.”

He looks back at you. “Let’s start this over. My name is Newt. You’re in the Glade now, with a few other shanks. I’m just surprised because they’ve never sent a girl up before, that’s it. Now, can you please put down the knife? What would you do with it, anyway?” You keep the blade up, feeling slightly defensive. “I could use it.” Newt lowers his hands, humor outweighing any sense of self-preservation. “For what?” You gesture with the blade. “To, I don’t know, stab someone. It’s a knife, what else would I do?”

Newt grins. “Maybe not stab me? We’re going to be here for a while, I’d appreciate it if you didn't kill me immediately.” You lower the blade at last, reaching over to put it back in a nearby box. “I’ll consider it.” Newt offers you a hand to help you out of the Box. “Can I help you up? You can trust me, you know.” You consider him for a second, taking in everything you know about the boy. He looks at you encouragingly, smiling with all the peaceful freedom of a dove, and you relent. After a second, you stand blinking in the sunlight, turning in a slow circle to stare at the massive walls surrounding you. “What is that?” Newt comes to stand beside you. “That’s the Maze. Keeps us all stuck in here. Once a month, the Box sends up some new sap. This time it’s you.”

You glance around you at the other boys pretending to do their work. “There’s not that many people here. How long has this been going on?” Newt shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe six months or so? Alby’s been here longest, he’ll have a better answer. Alby’s in charge here, by the way. I’m second in command.” You nod. “And you really don’t have any other girls here? That’s awful.” Newt laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling you’re going to fit in just fine around here.”

Newt, as it turns out, is right. You talk and laugh with the other Gladers like you’ve known them your entire life. Conversation flows freely that first day, and after a few hours, you already remember your name, taking joy in turning it over in your head like a smooth stone from the river. You make fast friends with Minho, the runner, after he hears the story of how you nearly stabbed Newt back in the Box. Alby talks Glade politics with you, Gally seems to tolerate you far more than the others. However, your closest friendship will always be with Newt.

Maybe it’s because he was the first friendly face you saw, the reason you ever agreed to enter into the Glade at all. Maybe it’s because Newt hands away his trust like a gift, free of charge. You couldn’t stray from him if you tried. You exchange quick chats and stupid jokes in between shifts, and you find that you look forward to every minute shared with the blond second-in-command.

One day, Newt and his track-hoes are forced to give up their gardening to retreat underneath haphazard awnings from an encroaching rainstorm. Even the builders have hurried away, trading in their bricks and wooden slats for the dry cover of the few buildings in the Glade. You lean against a tree conveniently growing underneath a cloth shelter, eyes alight as you watch the rain pour down over the Glade. A faint smile plays on your lips. Newt walks up beside you, an eyebrow raised as he takes in your peaceful expression.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone look this happy over a bloody thunderstorm. We’re all forced indoors and we can’t do anything, and you look like someone’s just won you a million pounds.” You turn to face him, grinning. “I just think it’s nice. You’re the track-hoe, I thought you’d be happier about it. If it doesn’t rain, all your plants die. Honestly, we should both be celebrating.” Newt shakes his head in horror. “You’re ridiculous. I mean, look at Gally. He seems like he’s going to kill somebody just because of a few clouds.”

You reach out a hand, feeling the burst of the fat raindrops against your palm. “You want me to be like Gally and hate everything in the world? Not a chance.” Newt watches you, an amused expression entertaining itself on his lips. “I’m not asking for that, I’m asking you to stop looking so excited about a rainstorm. You’re making the rest of us look like miserable downers.” You grin at him. “Maybe you are. Have you considered that?”

You crane your head out from the awning, gazing up as the drops rain down upon you. “I’m going out there. Come with me.” Newt scoffs. “And be soaking for the rest of the day? Not a chance.” You look at him, a mock pout tainting your eyes with incredible sorrow. “It’ll be fun. Not everyone has to be a miserable downer, you know.” You reach out to grab his hand and pull him into the rain, but Newt dodges your grasp. Instead, your hand darts down to his pocket, and you steal his prized pocketknife, holding it up teasingly before him. Newt lunges for it, but you run out into the rain-drenched clearing, forcing you to run after him.

Newt’s carried this one knife around with him for what feels like forever. He uses it for everything- gardening, threatening greenies, lending it to Chuck for the boy’s latest carving project. It won’t rust in the rain, but it will be important enough to him so that he’ll follow you out into the storm, away from his shelter. You sprint through the clearing, Newt chasing after you. You can hear him shouting. “You’re a terrible friend, Y/N, you know that?” You risk a glance backwards, feeling a laugh bursting on your tongue when you realize he’s only a few feet away from you. “That’s just mean!”

Eventually, he catches up to you, reaching out an arm to stop you in your tracks. You come to an abrupt stop, still doing your best to hold the knife away from him. Newt laughs to see your last-ditch efforts. “You’re insane, you know that? Absolutely insane.” You beam at him, feeling the rain pour down over you. “Maybe so.” Newt lunges for the knife and the sudden shift in balance makes you slip on the soaking wet grass. Newt leans over, catching you, and for a second you feel like you’re frozen in that moment, his arms around your waist and the rain pounding around you.

Then he’s straightening up, knife held triumphantly in his palm. “Told you I’d get it back.” You grin at him. “That wasn’t the point. We’re both out here now.” Newt looks up, as if finally realizing that you’ve goaded him into leaving the tent. He tosses a playful glare your way. “I thought we were friends.” You laugh. “We are. That’s why we’re having such a good time.” You tilt your head up towards the sky, taking in the crisp, clear freshness of the rain. Newt groans, but you can see the smile he’s unsuccessfully trying to hide. “Maybe it isn’t that bad. Not all of it.”

When you look back, you see his smile, the rain pressing his hair against his face. You can feel your own breath coming sharply in your chest after the running, the cool of the rain against the heat in your cheeks. You’ve never felt this way around him, and you can’t figure out what it means until that night, when you lie awake for hours, mind still turning around the storm from earlier. The truth comes to you after a while, letting itself in without so much as a knock. You love Newt, no matter how much you’d like to hide it.

The only problem is that Newt would never feel the same way about you. He constantly refers to you as his friend, even his best friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be. The fault lies solely with you, for falling in love with such a sunbeam of a boy and expecting that he’d look back at a matchstick of a girl, someone who’d light up only to die out seconds later. The only thing you can do is try to get over your little crush, hoping you can snuff it out like a candle.

This proves to be more difficult than you’d thought. Your first attempt is to just forget the whole thing ever happened. This plan runs into the ground as soon as you look at him the next morning, and feel all of your heart’s pounding rush over you. Your only idea after that is to edge slightly away from him. Maybe the distance will keep your mind from turning to him, from falling in love so easily. You still sit with him at mealtimes with all your other friends, but you don’t run to him at every break. Honestly, this is for the best. He probably thought you were too clingy anyway, this is just making things even better.

Yet it still hurts when you feel his absence, like a phantom limb that should have always stayed by your side. Maybe you’re just kidding yourself, but you could swear that Newt looks for you when you’re not there, like there’s a one in a million chance that he just might feel the same way. After about a week of this, you’re sitting in a quiet, empty part of the Glade on a rest break when Newt approaches you. He doesn’t say anything at first, just sits down right next to you. From the second you saw him, you noticed the crease in his brow, the look of unhappiness that seemed to permeate his every movement. Whatever he’s about to say, it won’t be good.

Newt fixes you with a quiet stare. “Why are you avoiding me?” The question, so blunt and straight-forward, demands an answer. You’re not sure that you want to provide one, so you try to steer away from his interrogation. “What are you talking about? We sit at the same tables at meals. We talk all the time, actually. We’re talking right now.” It’s a nothing answer, and Newt knows it. “We’re talking now because I came up to you. We used to spend a lot more time together, and then you decided that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s not what I thought at all! I-” You break off, wishing you could hold your tongue for once in your life. You almost gave it all away. Newt sees this sudden silence and presses it. “You what? I was closer to you than I was to anyone else in the Glade, and now I barely see you a couple of times per day. There’s always a reason, Y/N, and I would like to know why.” You sigh, but keep your mouth shut. Maybe he’ll hate you right now, but it will be better than the disappointment and even disgust when he finds out that someone he sees as a sister has fallen in love with him.

Newt’s voice is quiet. “I guess this was a mistake. You what, regretted all of this? You’re trying to pretend that we were never friends?” Your eyes flash. “I never regretted a thing. I loved you, and it was a stupid mistake that I’m trying to fix. Is that what you wanted to hear?” There’s silence for one heartbeat, two. You look away, furious with yourself. Then there’s a hand on your cheek, guiding your face back to his. Newt’s lips are on yours now, and you stifle a gasp of surprise.

At last, he breaks away, a smile dancing across his face. “You could have said that a lot earlier, you know.” You stare at him. “You liked me? You actually-” Newt chuckles softly. “Have for a while. I was trying to tell you, but you made it so bloody difficult sometimes.” You feel like you can’t think straight. “I can’t believe I never figured that out.” Newt’s smile is intoxicating. “I’m glad you know now. Makes it a lot easier to do this.” When he kisses you again, it’s even more breathtaking than the first.

#newt #newt imagines #newt x reader #tmr #tmr imagines #tmr x reader #maze runner #maze runner imagines #maze runner x reader #tmr newt #tmr newt imagines #tmr newt x reader #maze runner newt #maze runner newt imagines #maze runner newt x reader #scorch trials #death cure #thomas brodie sangster

664 notes · View notes

raggaraddy · 3 years ago

Note

Idk of I/someone else has already asked this but how would the yanderes react to having a mute s/o

Mute

A/N: Hi Hi. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! 💜💜💜

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, abuse, unhealthy relationships, blood drinking, descriptions of medical care.

Line: Mini-Rap Line (Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin)

Alpha! Namjoon

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Namjoon asks, trying to mask the genuine irritation in his voice.

It's been 8 days and you haven't said a word to him. Now, if you weren't talking at all that would be one thing, but you were specifically not talking to him, and would talk to other people with no problem. Trying to make it as pointedly obvious as possible that you were avoiding him and him alone.

The blatant disrespect of this was driving him mad. But he had never set a rule that directly stated that you have to talk to him or reply to him, and he knew that you would only fight it further if he instituted the edict now.

For you though, you were having the time of your life making him suffer. It was rare for you to have so much control between the two of you, and you were abusing it to the fullest. Especially given the reason this all started.

A week ago you were whining because he wouldn't let you go to the town fair without him. An unreasonable decision he made. Because as you tried to point out, you were going to be surrounded by the pack anyhow, and the excuse he gave for not going was a very unnecessary border run that anyone else could do in his place. While he wants to deny it, you know the real cause for his refusal though. It's because you sounded too excited about seeing your new friend at the fate and he was jealous. Even though she was another girl, for whom you had no romantic feelings, he was still jealous. And petty. You could see it in the way he mentioned her name or his face when you spoke about her.

But even with all that, it was his injustice that really made you snap. The exact words he said to you as you tried to reason your point, were; If you're going pout I don't want to hear another word from you. Basically, he told you to shut up just because he couldn't come up with any valid rebuttals and he didn't want to lose. So fine, if he wanted to be a dick, you were going to simply take his own instruction and hyperbolize it.

And his frustration was worth every moment of silence.

While he was hoping not to further blow this out of proportion, Namjoon was trying to break your silence by being strict towards all your other undesirable behaviour. Disciplining you for each and every rule you broke. Hoping to wear you down, or at the very least provoke you into another argument so that he could claim victory.

He was giving you time outs, taking away your electronics, making you hold quarters to the wall, refusing you junk food and sweets, making you stay by his side the entire day and so on. Fully running through all of his most infuriating and childish punishments. But no matter what he did, you remained defiant. And he was at the end of his rope.

Sitting in the kitchen, you were talking with the Gamma and two other wolves during a patrol break. As Namjoon was putting lunch together, you were happily observing his clenched jaw. However, the aggravation their Alpha was exuding was putting the wolves on edge and they were trying to include him in any way they could. Asking his opinion on topics as trivial as shoes, in the hopes to offset the irreverence you were showing.

When they asked him which of two brands he prefered, you interrupted, sick of their transparent attempts.

"No one cares what he has to say." You snip turning your back to him. For the first time in days, you were referring to him, and all the attitude you had stored up was pouring out in those words. You didn't take a second to think about what you were really saying though.

With an almighty crash, Namjoon smacks his hand into the benchtop, catching the side of the plate causing it to shatter. All three wolves and you jump. Quickly the words replay in your head as you see their wide-eyed gawking. Then the realization hits, you were safe being underspokenly disrespectful, but being outrightly so... he had rules set about that, and now you'd just given him the right to punish you in the way he had been itching to.

Grabbing your arm before you can protest he drags you upstairs to your shared bedroom. With weak shoves and refusals, you stay determined not to utter a single word. But as Namjoon pulls onto the bed, dragging you over his lap, as he lifts up your dress and tears down your underwear, you recognise that it's not time to play anymore.

Ignoring your shouts, your foul language, and eventually your cries for him to stop, he holds you down and smacks your ass raw. After about 20 minutes and once he's reduced you to tears, he finally lets up.

"Apologize," he demands. Still crying, you're too out of breath to reply at once, and that pause costs you. His hand comes down on your bruised ass again making you scream. Your cries turning into whimpered hiccuped apologies as you cling to the tear-soaked duvet.

Satisfied with your change in attitude, Namjoon at last stops. Not letting you run away like you want though, instead he has you straddle his lap, his legs carefully spread so your bruised butt doesn't have to sit on anything.

"Do you understand why I did that Y/n?" He asks softly pulling you into his chest. His hand running over your back.

You know why he did it, but you're too bitter to answer him and can only muster a grunt.

"Still not speaking to me, huh?" He smiles knowing he has already won whether you wanted to admit it or not, "Because if you're going to continue being disrespectful, I don't care if your ass is still glowing, I will bring you back up here."

You can only grunt again. Hating him, while you nevertheless cuddle in closer not wanting him to stop comforting you. He chuckles feeling your energy. Fiddling with your clothes and hair to realign and neaten them.

"Beautiful," he purrs in your ear, "If it really means that much to you, I will have someone cover me this Friday so I can take you to the fair." He consigns, kissing your forehead. You finally look up to him, head tilted and mouth slightly open. "Do you want that?"

Looking down and away, you're pouting a little but you push the word out. "Yes,"

"Okay, I will. But you have to be on your best behaviour from now until then." Namjoon winks.

You lost, but you still got what you wanted in the end. So maybe you can chalk this up to a draw. And at the very least you've found a way to get what you want in the future. So maybe that can be considered a win.

Assassin! Yoongi

Because of your disrespectful outburst, Yoongi had told you that you were not allowed to speak until he says. So far you were 4 weeks into your 5 week deadline.

Initially, it was an unyielding torment to have to be silent. A few times you had slipped up and spoken. Each and every time, Yoongi was quick to respond. He would lock you downstairs for as many days as words you spoke. Luckily, the most you said at one time was 5 words. And he still fed you while you were down there. So while it was horrible, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

Steadily though, you found it became easier. While you weren't allowed to speak, you still needed to be able to communicate with Yoongi, so he allowed you to nod and shake your head, and smile. It was restrictive, but strangely enough, you found it becoming comfortable. Because you couldn't speak Yoongi expected less from you. You didn't have to search for words when he spoke to you in an attempt to make him happy and overall, it made your interactions less stressful.

With you not speaking, he was speaking less also. So for the past few days, you have been enjoying a wordless dialogue that you and Yoongi were having. And at this point, you were feeling more relaxed and not missing talking at all.

Although waking up this morning you came downstairs to a horrible sight, that made you wish you could scream.

Yoongi was collapsed on the floor. Stretched out on the kitchen tiles in a puddle of his own blood. Covered in bruises and cuts. His torn up T-shirt soaked in blood.

3 nights ago he had left for a job. With the ease between the two of you, Yoongi didn't lock you up when he left, although he didn't downrightly state that as the reason. He must have come home sometime last night, but clearly, you didn't hear him.

Rushing to his side, you're looking down his unconscious battered form with no idea what to do. This is nothing you know how to deal with.

With how long you have been without speaking it feels wrong, unnatural even when you think about doing it now. And you can't bring yourself to release a single word. So you do what you can to try and get his attention, and to wake him up. You shove him, clap over his head. Lastly and desperately smacking his face a few times, sighing in relief as it pulls him back to consciousness.

Groaning, his eyes look to be spinning from light-headedness. Stiffly he tries to get himself upright against the wall. Seeing his intent you help him. Pulling him, you slip a little in the puddle of blood. Your hands and feet are already covered in it. Your limbs trembling as you hold your hands away from your body. Looking down at him with pleading eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Medic kit," he breathes, each puff heavy and wheezed.

You nod, spreading a trail of blood through the house to his bedroom. Collecting the duffle bag in his closet that is filled with a surgeries worth of supplies and running back downstairs, you drop the bag at his side, unzipping it for him.

While you were gone he's torn his ripped shirt off. Among the cuts and scars that already litter his pale chest, he has a deep long cut that runs diagonally down his torso. It looks like basic first aid was already applied, blood-drenched gauze stuck on the worst and deepest parts of it.

"I'm gonna talk you through this," he pants, with a struggled smirk, "Maybe wash your hands first, cause if I die of infection, I'll be pissed." His playful banter feels so out of place, not just for the scene but for him. Although, you're not going to question how he wants to deal with a life-threatening injury, and the ridiculousness of you being the one that needs to help him. If he wants to joke to cope, fine.

Nodding and wide-eyed through the whole run-down, it takes everything you have, but you stay calm and stop yourself from crying.

Thankfully time has seemed to stop the bleeding. As you remove the bandages the lacerations have somewhat clotted. Going step by step, you follow Yoongi's every word. First, you clean the area with a bucket of water and a cloth. Then apply an antibiotic ointment, that smells really gross. Washing your hands once again, you lower beside him, and realize you've only just gotten to the worst of it.

While the bleeding has stopped the cuts above his belly button and his hip are deep enough, the fat is exposed.

"You gonna be able to do this?" Yoongi asks as you hold the needle and thread with a tremble in your hands that is painfully obvious.

You nod, taking a deep breath. But even after 3 more of them, your exhales are still coming out shaky. You are in desperate need to calm down and your sure he can't get mad at you in this circumstance, so you're going to try what you've seen on T.V. Standing, you rummage through the cupboards and pull down a bottle of whisky from the top shelf. Watching Yoongi closely as you open the cork, giving him the chance to stop you. But he doesn't so you gulp down a few mouthfuls, shivering as the taste flows down your chest.

You're not sure if it helped your hands, but you feel a little better. So that's enough.

Returning to his side, slowly Yoongi talks you through suturing the openings. A traumatic experience you hope to never repeat. The sensation of the needing pushing through the layers of skin will surely never leave your head though.

During the stitching, you were surprised that Yoongi didn't flinch or react in any way. You're unsure if it was because the area was numb or because he was restraining himself to not freak you out. But in any case, you were grateful.

After everything and nearly 2 hours, you finally move onto bandaging.

Both of you are now able to slump back, thoroughly exhausted. For the longest time after the final step, neither of you move. You're still horrified, leaning against the wall looking over the armature medical aid you've given Yoongi's chest. Almost feeling a sense of pride through the unrelenting urge to vomit.

"You know," Yoongi grunts, shuffling back, lifting only his head to rest against the same wall. "If you wanna finish early and talk now, I think you've earned it." He chortles dryly, with a straight line smile.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist, you laugh uncomfortably. Honestly, after this, you'll be happy to have the next week without speaking.

Vampire! Hoseok

You couldn't take much more of this.

It was endless and he was ruthless.

Night after night Hoseok was coming to you. Drinking from you, hurting you in so many ways, and leaving you. If you were lucky, he'd remember to feed you his blood before he left. If not, he'd let you remain broken, making you suffer through the day.

With everything that you had to endure, you were tired of being tired. Exhausted of being exhausted. Scared and sad all the time, and hating a life from which you had no means of escape. But even with all of this, you were still holding out hope that there had to be some way to lessen your suffering. You had to believe that if you wanted to keep your sanity. You just had to figure out what he wanted.

So far you had seen no depth to him. All you had learnt was that he enjoyed your misery too much. It was like a game to him. Every sound you made, every cry, every time you begged or screamed at him, or fought him, it would only encourage him. He was trying to coax a reaction, to draw out your fear. And with no other form of control, you wanted to see what would happen if you took that away from him.

You theorized that if you did he would get more vicious, but then he would get bored. Best case scenario; he would let you go. Worst case; he would kill you. And somewhere in the middle; he would keep you only for your blood. But any of these were better than the hell you were living in now.

So partly with a plan in mind, and partly out of sheer exhausted terror, you stopped speaking. It was going to be impossible to stop all sounds. There was no way you could stop yourself from screaming or crying or reacting, but you could control the words that came out of your mouth.

And for over 2 weeks now, you haven't uttered a single word.

With the sun high in the sky and being ready to sleep, you come back to your room, jolting as you open the door. Seeing Hoseok sitting on the bed.

In an unnatural flash, he's behind you, goosebumps prickling on the back of your neck. Grabbing a chunk of your hair he jerks and twists you, moving you to face him. His other hand comes up pressing his fingers into your cheeks harshly enough to make your mouth open. Keeping your jaw spread, he moves and tugs your head inspecting inside at all angles.

"Hmm, I was just checking if I cut your tongue out and forgot. But it's there." he uses his hold on your face to throw you back. Crashing you to the floor. "So you're choosing not to speak to me." He chuckles eerily.

As soon as you hit the floor, you scramble to your feet. Struggling to do so with an injured leg, but knowing it's safer to not let yourself remain on the ground or he'll most likely stomp on you.

You croak quickly silence yourself, forcing yourself to not speak and maintain your desperate strategy. Bracing yourself instead like you're facing a wild animal.

He marches forward, grabbing the arm you hold out. You'd rather he break your limbs than your organs. But he uses the arm to yank you forward, his right fist hooking broadly, your head snapping to the side, blood flying from your mouth. "Still not going to speak baby?" He yanks you back, hitting you in the exact same way. And a third time, your mouth gushing blood inside and out. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings?" He laughs switching his target, this time aiming at your torso. Each time dragging you back into place so he can properly hit you again.

Smacking the back of his hand into your head, he lets your fly into the floor this time. Clicking his tongue as he squats, hovering over you. "Baby, it's not as fun when you're not begging me to stop," he says icily. "Maybe I'm not hurting you enough."

Finally, he's giving you the assurance that you were right. Which means just like you thought, he's threatening to become more vicious. So you can endure that, or you can try something extra and see what happens when you outrightly give him everything he already takes.

Gently and so very carefully you lift your arm to his chest, gradually and painfully getting yourself onto your knees. Watching you do so with such difficulty and while you're trying to maintain eye contact with him, Hoseok is too amused to interrupt you.

With the taste of blood flowing from your mouth, you lean in nervously, expecting at any moment to have your body broken in two. Your heart thumps enough to hurt as you lightly kiss him. Leaving a stamp of your blood on his lips. Too scared to even blink as you monitor him. With a curious expression in his eye, he licks lips clean, a trace of a smile raising the corners of his mouth.

Not receiving a negative reaction you continue. Hoisting yourself up again you begin to kiss him slowly, your tongue flicking his lips encouraging him to open his mouth. Deepening the kiss the moment he does. Kissing your blood between the two of you.

Your hands are shaking, your legs are trembling, and you feel sick with fear, but he seems to be stable. And it seems to be working. As tenderly as you kiss him, he is kissing you back the same.

After several minutes and as the pain of holding yourself up gets to be too much, you lower down, terrified that any movement could evoke a change in his response. Keeping your eyes fixed on him, you tie your hair back into a messy bun.

The smirk on Hoseok's face is fully grown as he watches you with complete intrigue. You've never been the one to initiate anything and he is beguiled by your actions.

Coming back to the same height you don't return to kissing him, instead you press your chest to his, clinging one hand into his shirt to keep you balanced, and the other wrapping around his neck to bring his mouth down to your shoulder. It's a wordless invitation that he accepts eagerly, sinking his fangs into the slope of your neck. Too sore and tired to cry out, you can only pant through the bite.

As he drinks, your hands drop and his tighten around you to keep you up. But the second he's done, he releases you and lets you fall to the carpet.

Your eyes open as you hear the bedroom door. However, you see Hoseok stall. Pursing his lips while looking over his shoulder at you. To your surprise, he turns back and in a delicate manner you did not think possible from him, he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed.

Tilting your head up, he presses his lips to yours and your first thought is one of dread. Assuming that he's not finished and he only came back to have sex with you, thinking how much it's going to hurt in your condition.

Pushing his tongue into your mouth you can feel right away that the blood pouring into your mouth is not yours but his. His tongue lapping yours, feeding you his blood the same way you did to him. Healing you in a way he never has before.

Steadily you can feel all your cuts and breaks startling to heal. Clarity returning to your sight and your breath again flowing easily. As your energy returns you begin to reciprocate the kiss. Both out of a feeling of success and clinging on to the taste of his blood, which has come to trigger a feeling of relief within you. Having attached the flavour with the sensation of having your pain taken away.

Abruptly, Hoseok pulls away, getting up without another word or look. Leaving you alone, laying in shock.

It was a reaction unlike any you had expected, but for the very first time, he was damn near humane. So you would have to try that again and see if lightning strikes twice.

Playboy! Jimin

"Ta-da" Jimin bursts into the bedroom with a small black paper bag in his hand and a massive smile on his face. He jumps on the corner of the bed snatching the remote from you and turning the tv off with a click over his shoulder. "Look, Angel." He hands it over, putting the gift in your lap.

Looking down at it, you sigh internally, leaning back you choose to pointedly ignore it. Resting your head against the headboard, you close your eyes.

Lifting the bag by the handles Jimin swings it between his fingers over your head trying to place it in your eye line. "Look, your favourite." He shakes the brand in your face, the joy in his eyes gently fading into guilt.

For 5 days now, you had been stuck in bed. During an argument about your job, Jimin was once again trying to convince you to quit. His points were the same as always. That you didn't need a job because he could pay for you. That you lived with him, and he would buy you heaven and earth. He meant it in a sweet romantic way, but you couldn't help but take it in a 1910 housewife kind of way. You knew that mostly the reason he wanted you out of work was that he was very greedy with you and hated you being around other people. He didn't like that you weren't there to keep him company and entertain him at all times.

Honestly, those 8 hours out of the house, even though you were down to 3 days a week, were so revitalizing. Jimin could be a lot of work. And he was getting more and more controlling about who you saw and when you could see them. Apart from work, it had been 3 months since he last let you go out or see any of your friends by yourself. And you were fighting to hold onto this last little bit of freedom.

However, you will admit in the attempt at making your point solid, you said something incredibly stupid. He said he paid for everything, and you said you needed your own money in case you ever wanted to leave him. And he took that about as well as you'd expect.

"Come on, this isn't fair." Jimin pouts. "I said I'm sorry."

What really wasn't fair was that he hit you, kicked you, and screamed at you. Demanding you apologize and promise to never leave him. But you were coughing up blood, too dazed to even comprehend his words at the time. And when you didn't answer he growled you can't leave if you can't walk as he threw you down the stairs.

It's only by a miracle that you weren't injured as permanently as he intended, but still, he had done plenty of harm. Your ribs and stomach were black and purple. Your face was cut up with your lips split and your jaw swollen. Your arm and hip were also deeply bruised and sore. But with all of this, you truly have no idea the full extent of the damage because Jimin refuses to let you go to the hospital.

So, due to your injuries and your own principles, you hadn't spoken to Jimin since you woke up.

The first day he was remorseful and apologetic. He pleaded and begged for you to forgive him. He tried to hold you and love you and take care of you, but despite the pain and the fact that you really couldn't take care of yourself, you refused him at every turn. On the second day, he was already becoming annoyed that you wouldn't let him near you and kept ignoring him, and on the third day, he yelled at you for being difficult, trying to put the blame for his reaction on you. Yesterday, when he saw that gaslighting you wasn't getting him what he wanted, he went back to being sweet and doting, having had better luck with guilting you in the past.

This means today when his presents don't earn him your forgiveness, he should be right on track to getting pissy again.

He pulls a small box out of the bag, flicking it open. "Ta-da," he smiles. Only to be met once more with your active avoidance. "Look," he whines holding the ring box up but your eyes are closed. "Y/n look!" He barks.

You're not going to, though. He always does this. Buys you something to resolve his guilt. And if for even a moment you express gratitude or pleasure in it, he takes it as complete forgiveness. Then when you haven't actually absolved him, he accuses you of being difficult or a spoiled bitch. Even ignoring him you know he's going to make a problem of that too, but at least this way he will have to keep suffering in his shame.

During the last few days, you've been thinking hard about why you're with Jimin. For a moment, you even thought about packing your things in the middle of the night and leaving him. Moving back in with your old housemate, returning to full-time work and picking up your life where you left it. But thinking that, even with everything bad Jimin can do, it hurt your heart.

He's yours. And out of all of the people in the world, you're his.

Really there weren't too many times that he freaked. And he only did it because he loved you too much, or because you said something cruel like you did this time. No, most of the time he was so sweet. He listened to you, and he really cared about everything you had to say. Even the smallest problems he wanted to help with. He was normally so kind and gentle and he treated you like a princess.

No matter how hard you looked you would never find anyone who treated you like Jimin did.

So even when he lost his temper, you knew you just needed to hold out, because soon everything would return to regular.

This time he just overdid it. And that's why you were punishing him by not speaking to him. Because you knew it was important to stand up for yourself.

There's a flurry of sudden movement and a hefty bang across the room. Your eyes jumping open, Jimin has thrown the ring and the box into the wall. His frustration exploding in a rampage as he attacks your makeup table. Sweeping everything off it, stomping on anything fragile that hits the floor. Throwing the table over he hurls it into the wall, finishing it off by booting his shoe into the mirror over and over until it cracks.

Turning back to you, his hands curled up by his side, it's unnervingly apparent that he is fighting to restrain himself. Even now, as you lay in bed broken, in his rage he is still considering hitting you again.

But you're pretty sure he won't.

Jimin has just never been good at dealing with consequences and he is worse at dealing with the guilt that comes because of his actions. Without you pardoning him, he's going mental. Which is good, because that means he's learning.

"Whatever," he yells, "just fucking forget it." Barging out of the room he slams the door ferociously behind him.

He may be acting harsh, but you know that more than likely he will be going out to replace everything he just damaged. And he'll buy you something even better than a ring to say he's sorry.

And as long as he doesn't hit you again, you'll know that he really is sorry and in a couple more days when your mouth is healed, you will be able to forgive him. Then the two of you can move on from this and it will be as perfect as it can be.

299 notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 4 years ago

Note

Lmao Levi being irritated because reader, his roomate, who he still hasn't confessed to yet, gets a cat.

The cat hates Levi but loves reader and reader loves the cat too and it's basically Levi vs the cat someone help

note :: very rushed and not proofread i only wrote for fun because once again i am bed ridden with sickness ha ha the perks of always being sick i suppose T__T

lord, does levi despise the way you act without thinking sometimes

he’s legitimately appalled at how you can manage to always do shit like this

even more appalled at how he lets you get away with it every time

now, what is the shit you have done this time?

brought a cat home a CAT

first things first, you are allergic to cats so he does not understand how that predicament will fix itself

secondly, cats shed EVERYWHERE

as much as he enjoys cleaning he is not going to clean that up every day

thirdly, cats will ruin furniture and claw at it

as well as the curtains!!!!

and levi loves the curtains in the living room because the both of you picked them out together

though it was a struggle to get you interested enough to pick a pair you liked.

maybe that’s why he’s looking at you irked by this all

you’re holding the kitten in your arms playing around with her

“peek... a... boo!”

playing fucking peek-a-boo with a cat? he questions himself in his head

“y/n. we are not keeping the cat.”

at this you innocently look up at him through your lashes

god, there you go again doing that

he doesn’t know if you’re aware of the impact you have on him when you do that

he’s good at holding his composure but that look ignites something in him

but he always has to push that something down his throat

“c’mon, you’d be the best roomie ever if you let me keep her!”

his eyes narrow at the word roomie

is that all he is to you?? a roomie???

you’re holding the cat up alongside your face and are fake pouting

“you. are. allergic. to. cats.” he punctuates every word clearly

“how do you know that?” you ask reasonably shocked he knows something that obscure and random about you

“you like talking about yourself when you’re drunk.”

a memory of him helping you throw up whilst he carefully holds your hair out of your face flashes past

if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have got anywhere near them if they were throwing up

but it was you,

it was always you.

“you rambled on and on and on about wanting a cat as a kid but not getting one because of your allergies.”

“so you would also know-” the cat tries to scratch your arm and you retract giggling

“that i really want a cat!”

“does that change your allergies? poof oh wow y/n you’re no longer allergic to shitty cats because you want one.”

you roll your eyes at his deadpan expression and pessimism

“if you knew anything about cats you would know this is a cornish rex” you now rebuttal

“a fucking what?”

“hypoallergenic cat breed! my allergies to cats are mild so it’s the perfect cat for me”

the crease between his eyebrow deepens.

“do you forget that we live in this apartment together?”

you scrunch your nose looking at your little buddy who has now settled in your lap “how could i forget that?”

he knows you see him as nothing more than a roommate

levi loves you he does but you don’t know that

but part of him thinks you do because you always give him that look when you want something

you’re doing it again.

the look.

“fuck. fine but if that thing coughs up a hair ball she’s out.”

“AAAHH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU LEVI!!!!” you’re ecstatic

his breath traps itself in his throat when he hears that

how can you carelessly say i love you??

you’re happily looking between him and the cat and hand her over to levi

“hold her you’re the dad”

“so you’re the...?” he asks

“i’m the...???” you’re clueless

he shakes his head waving it off

it takes you a moment to understand what he’s asking then your eyes widen

“ohhh the mum? yeah that would be me”

it’s so stupid, so stupid, so so so stupid he repeats it in his head the whole scenario is stupid

but it doesn't stop him from smiling like an idiot

in recent days you’ve given her the names diana, garfield and casper

sadly, none of then seem to stick because you’re too indecisive

it’s got to the point where you barge into levi’s room without asking

you’re in your pyjamas he looks at you confused as to why you’ve walked in with no permission at 2am

in a cucumber face mask...?

“name the cat please, name the cat i can’t stick to a name i’m going to rip my hair out“ you’re gripping at your hair groaning in frustration.

“edgar’

first suggestion, too ugly.

you shake your head

“candy“

second suggestion, no, just no.

you shake your head again in refusal

“zero?“

yeah, no.

another shake of the head

levi ponders and thinks hard “...angel?’

you blush, jump back and look more than startled

fumbling with your fingers awkwardly you edge closer towards the door

he just eyes you weirdly wondering what causes that reaction

well, you must like the name

“is it good enough?” he asks

you’re speechless not knowing what to actually say

“y/n...????”

you snap out of it

“isn’t that something you’d call a significant other not a cat?”

and for once in your life you actually seem kinda annoyed at him

“your cat is an angel in your eyes that’s the point” he’s explaining his point but you aren’t listening

you don’t know why levi saying that word makes your heart race

that’s why you’re annoyed right now

in fact it’s not that you’re annoyed. you’re scared that it triggers this response because this is levi.

levi, your roommate the same roommate who argues about pizza toppings with you. he’s nothing more than that.

but your cheeks continue to flush behind the cucumber face mask

“i’ll ask someone else what to name him just call him salad for now” without letting him get a word in you leave but somehow you forget the cat

salad turns to levi and gives him what can only be described as a menacing look.

“you happy you annoying shit? y/n’s annoyed because i can’t name you”

your cat jumps at him and tries to scratch at a piece of flesh but is held off easily

one cold look from levi and she stops.

“get out my room you pest.” he says as he places the cat on the floor

salad scurries away and levi rolls his eyes

he hates that cat he really does

a few hours pass levi is still up he’s always found it hard to sleep

it’s been a long day he’s just finished a thesis for his physics degree and stretches out contently

to say he’s tired is an understatement but his throat is dry and he needs to DESPERATELY hydrate

he gets to his feet and ventures into the kitchen to retrieve some water then he’ll knock out like a log and fall asleep.

the pitch of your snoring can be heard and he smiles to himself silently.

it’s all good, he’s sure you’re getting all the sleep you need.

“GRRRE”

there it is,

the little fucker, your cat is still up.

“what is it little shit?” levi asks leaned up against the surface of the counter.

salad is only staring at him blankly before turning to look over at the living room.

it’s dim the lights are switched off but levi feels something is feels off

“the hell did you do?” he asks

but salad shows no signs of breaking and revealing what it is she’s done

levi’s going to have to investigate

stepping towards the living room he flicks the lights open.

eyes survey the entire area everything looks good until he sees the way the drapes have been ripped apart

salad is picked up in one swoop she sees how levi is about to throw her out the front door and panics

meowing and struggling just in the nick of time she jumps before running away and slipping into the safety of your bedroom

groaning levi goes back to the living room to see if he’s missed anything.

well, god damn him.

scratches litter the leather furniture, it almost looks like a crossword.

salad has also conveniently taken a shit behind the sofa,

and to top it all off she’s left a dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor

levi. is. infuriated.

“you should thank her for catching the mouse”

you’re hurriedly eating some toast levi has made for you as you brush your hair out and gather it into a low ponytail

“look at the drapes y/n??” he’s exasperated and trying to make sense of your logic

“i didn’t like the drapes anyway we needed new ones.”

you aren’t taking this seriously at all and it’s getting on his nerves now

he runs a hand through his hair and glares at you “i told you taking the cat in was a bad idea”

your hair tie snaps and so do you

all the doubts from yesterday are eating you away. the question still lingers in your mind - how do you really feel about levi?

“do you have to have an opinion on everything i do? you’re my roommate not my boyfriend.”

it’s your fault for letting your anger and stress get the better of you. to be frank you have no clue why you’ve gone and said that.

if you’re honest with yourself you know he’s not a roommate. he’s not a friend either but at the same time he’s definitely not a boyfriend.

he’s more than a friend to you but you don’t think he sees you similarly.

oh how wrong you are

“roommate?”

levi’s question is filled with not an ounce of humour, the both of you know that.

oddly, he sounds displeased,

but you can’t take it back now.

and you hate backing down

“what?” you scoff

he shakes his head and makes his way to the front door not turning to look at you.

“get a grip on that cat otherwise i’m throwing it out”

SLAM!

you’ve done it, you’ve messed it up.

salad jumps up on the counter and licks your toast

maybe, he is right about the cat.

the rest of the week is incredibly busy you have an important economics presentation due today and you’ve done everything you need to prepare for it.

at least that’s what you think,

you’re stood in front of the class introducing yourself and everything seems to be going smoothly

price determination within the economic market might as well be advertised as a sleeping pill because you don’t know how you can get anyone interested enough to keep their eyes open.

but putting your best foot forward an attempt is still made.

“the buyers and sellers accept this price, and buy and sell accordin-”

you’re abruptly cut off by your professor who coughs and then proceeds to leer at you in disgust.

a few moments of silence pass and you can feel your heart hammer in your chest.

suddenly he points at the door,

he’s known for being harsh, strict and a stingy marker but it’s not as if you’ve shown up with nothing done...?

in fact this is the largest amount of effort you’ve put into your economics course since you’ve started it.

being in your usual seasonal slump has held you back but now you’re actually trying he’s saying it’s not good enough?

“your presentation. it’s awful. not enough effort put into it, leave for today.” his voice is rumbling and intimidating.

you’re stunned, you’ve worked tirelessly day and night to finish this off.

you’ve even had to cry over not knowing or understanding how to make pie charts.

interpreting data has never been your strong suit.

too embarrassed to ask for help you had to spend hours figuring out how to make it all work alongside your excel chart and spreadsheet

sighing heavily you speak up “professor i’ve spent a lot of time on this?”

“i looked through the slides. dog shit.” his response is fiery and you shudder at the boiling frustration he’s shooting right at you.

arguing in front of the lecture hall is not what you wish to do and you’re sure you aren’t going to be the only person sent out this way.

just retreat y/n

you do.

the professor is clearly in a bad mood and taking it out on you, there’s nothing you can do about it.

wordlessly you gather your belongings and leave.

as you trudge back home the feeling of not being good enough sinks in your stomach like a heavy anchor at sea.

entering through the front door is a task and a half through your glossed over eyes but somehow you manage

you’ve kept salad in your room for most of the time after your argument and she seems to actually miss levi’s presence.

so when the first thing you see as soon as you enter is salad clawing at his bedroom door begging to be let in you aren’t surprised.

thankfully for you he’s yet to return from class and hasn’t been disturbed by the sounds.

at least that’s what you assume.

you look at salad and start sobbing

you wish you were a cat.

cats don’t get shit on for fucking up economics presentations that’s for sure.

shaking you try to hold yourself up against one of the walls

frankly, school stress is getting to you.

you tried hard on that presentation only for it to fail when it was worth a quarter of your grade.

A QUARTER...

TWENTY FIVE PERCENT...

salad nuzzles herself against your leg and you lean over to pick her up

she licks at your ear, it tickles and you laugh in between sobs

“you sure are good at comforting people huh?” you’re so worn out your laugh sounds half dead.

it’s all so pathetic. you standing in your living room wailing as you hold your pet cat like a baby.

but she doesn’t mind and let’s you cry to your hearts content.

“MEOW” salad loudly squeaks and you stroke her back but she only keeps at it “MEOWWWW.”

sensing that she’s bringing something to your attention you turn around

there stands levi awkwardly waving at you and you instinctually cover your face with your arm.

the smudged mascara is none of his business.

“wanna order pizza and talk about it?”

pursing your lips at the proposition you slowly lower your arm and scratch at the sleeve of your shirt.

"yeah, i’d love that.”

“KICKED YOU OUT THE LECTURE HALL?? YOU WORKED ON THAT FOR DAYS Y/N, DAYS??”

levi is beyond pissed he hasn’t even touched the second slice of his pizza after hearing how your presentation played out.

“it’s okay, it was probably going to go bad i can’t do anything right.”

levi’s silver eyes fog up in annoyance and you shut yourself up.

“you are the most able person i have met.”

head rocking up in surprise the confession is news to you.

“really?“

“you’re great at making pad thai, somehow you convinced me to keep that cat, i remember that other time you convinced a first year to bungee jump off a building for last years charity fundraiser.”

it truly is endearing how he doesn’t call you smart or witty or hard-working. none of that basic nonsense you’ve heard time and time again from everyone else.

the fact he’s naming the most random things makes your heart swell.

you burst into laughter remembering the first year’s quivering form and you wonder why levi even remembers that.

“if salad bothers you that much i could find a friend to look after her.”

levi looks at you like he’s just come face to face with a ghost.

“no? i like her, she might frustrate me and get in the way when i want to-” he stops himself fumbling over his sentence.

“when you want to?“ you’re leaning in closer intrigued what the rest of the sentence is.

shock flashes over his face but the next second it disappears.

taking a gulp of his water seemingly in preparation he looks you right in the eye.

“when i want to kiss you.”

and that’s all it takes for you to tug him by the shirt and slam his lips against yours, you giggle into the kiss as you situate yourself in his lap. hands ghosting over your hips he’s disoriented not sure where to place his palms but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this and despite his sloppy response the fact you’re finally doing what you’ve been fearing the most these past few weeks is only filling you with adrenaline.

“settle down.” he’s panting heavy and ragged. “i was meant to initiate it and look cool what the fuck??” he’s not mad, he’s just playing with you but that doesn’t stop you from getting into the role.

“and if i don’t settle?” you mischievously ask, levi’s hands are cupping your jaw he pushes your hair out of your face and simply gazes in awe.

he makes you feel so beautiful, it’s unreal.

“meow...” salad’s dissatisfied whining can be heard and then out of nowhere in one fluid motion she jumps onto levi’s chest.

“salad if you don’t mind i’m trying to make out with your dad.” you explain with a frown.

she doesn’t budge and instead a trickling sound can be heard, then a foul smell floats into the room and levi screams.

“Y/N THE LITTLE SHIT IS PEEING ON ME???”

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi x y/n #attack on titan #levi fluff #leviiattacks #modern levi #college levi #levi scenario #levi headcanons #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader

542 notes · View notes

dudeandduchess · 4 years ago

Text

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: The Way I Loved You (Angst with Happy Ending, SFW Scenario)

Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending, Toxic Relationship, Arguing, Screaming, Fighting, Kissing in the Rain (lmao), Mild Mysoginy (since this is set in the Taishō Era)

Note: It feels so good to have written this down. Please don’t be too harsh on this piece, as I’m still not in the best condition. I just couldn’t resist not writing it down immediately. 😅💖

***

The wedding was beautiful. At least, it was supposed to be.

It was going to be the wedding of the year— according to all of (Y/n)’s relatives; especially her mother. They parroted those words over and over, until she was so sick to her stomach from having to hear it get dragged out over and over.

The wedding that (Y/n) was planning was supposed to be a big one; after all, it was her dream wedding, to her dream husband. He was so perfect, so incredible— he even got along with the most unhospitable of (Y/n)’s relatives.

Her husband-to-be was just that amazing. He was always there when it mattered, and even when it didn’t matter. She only needed to send him a letter to get him to come to her side. She couldn’t have asked for anyone better.

He was so unlike Kyōjurō.

The name sent a pang through her chest, tugging at her heartstrings in the worst of ways that left her a little teary eyed and shaky. Kyōjurō wasn’t like her betrothed at all, but she couldn’t help but still want him.

She was still so desperately in love with the Flame Hashira, that she had kept putting off her wedding— in the hopes that he would swoop in at the last second and take her away from there. Still, even after months of lying through her teeth about anything and everything that she can with regards to the wedding, she had finally given up.

Accepted that she had made the worst mistake of her life when she told Kyōjurō to never show his face to her again.

“I hate you! I hate everything about you! I hate that I let you hurt me like this; that I let you affect me this much!” She remembered screaming the words at him on the day that they had parted ways.

But, even though she tried to shake the memory away, it still played in her head. A painful memory that had her closing her eyes and rubbing the area just above her heart. “I hate that you’re never there for me! I don’t even see you, Kyōjurō! We’ve been together for years, but I’ve still yet to get a proposal from you! Am I just a good time to you? Someone not worth marrying? Because I gave everything to you, Kyōjurō; everything that would define me as a woman worth marrying.”

She didn’t know what Kyōjurō had been thinking about in that time, but it was obvious that he was also conflicted. Until he closed his eyes and sighed heavily; so heavily that (Y/n) felt her heart sink to her stomach.

It was a resigned sigh, and it told her everything that she needed to know.

So, instead of crying and begging him to marry her to preserve her dignity as a woman— as well as mend the broken fragments of her heart— she gritted her teeth and walked away from him. (Y/n) walked as fast as her feet could take her, biting back tears while on her way home.

And that was the day that she swore that she would forget all about him. Only, she never did.

The young woman hadn’t even realized that she was already crying; not until she felt the first warm tear land on the back of her hand. It shook her from her painful reverie, and had her quickly swiping at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling from her eyes.

“(Y/n), we’re going to have dinner with your husband soon. You should change,” (Y/n)’s mother chirped happily from outside her room, totally oblivious to the fact that her daughter was biting down on her bottom lip to silence the sobs that threatened to wrack through her body.

The action made her chest hurt, even when she hunched over and tried hugging herself— if only to keep herself together, when she felt like she was coming undone. She didn’t even know what she wanted anymore— the wedding of a lifetime with her dream man, or to be stuck in an endless cycle with the man she loved.

It hurt her to even think about it, to the point where she had slipped up and accidentally released her bottom lip. And that was the catalyst for all of the heartbroken and painful sobs that had her feeling so weak.

She couldn’t even breathe, let alone move from where she was. All that she could do was cry and heave, and silently call out for Kyōjurō.

But even that, she knew, wasn’t enough to get him back.

***

It was the end of the night, with (Y/n) having been the envy of every other woman at the restaurant. Men and women alike couldn’t resist turning their gazes over to her and her betrothed— but maybe it was mostly because of all of the scars that littered his body.

Sanemi was perfect for her; strong, serious, steadfast and— most of all— someone who could charm everyone with his manners and politeness. He just looked gruff on the outside, but (Y/n) couldn’t have asked for anyone better suited for her; someone who accepted her as she is.

He never made her wait, and never made her feel bad. Even when he was away on missions, he never failed to send her updates. He was everything that Kyōjurō wasn’t, yet he was also everything that (Y/n) realized that she didn’t really want.

She wanted those goofy, late night strolls with Kyōjurō, and having to wait for days for a five-page letter that was mostly apologies for forgetting to write. She wanted to feel so much again with the love of her life, instead of stewing in her hollow achievement with who is seemingly the perfect man.

A sad smile tugged up on the corners of (Y/n)’s lips as she tucked all of her things away. She was already ready for bed, but the memory of a smiling Kyōjurō as he helped her get on a stone bench played in her memory.

It was one of her most treasured moments, because it was the moment that she realized that she was truly in love with the blond.

He had wrapped his arms around her waist while she stood atop the bench, lifting her up and spinning her once just to elicit a quiet scream from her. He always had fun with joking around with her, that it had become a normal occurence for him to do it just to see the progression of her getting mad to her smiling at him as she called him a goofball.

Kyōjurō had never told her, but it was those moments— among so many more— that he treasured the most.

He loved her with his whole being, but the only problem was that he couldn’t fully commit himself to her; not when he wasn’t sure if his next mission was going to be his last.

He knew that he couldn’t do that to her; so, instead of tying her down to him, he chose to just let her go— even if it was the most painful thing that he’d ever had to do in his life.

That was why Kyōjurō didn’t know what he was doing outside (Y/n)’s house in the dead of the night, looking up at the window that he knew was hers— waiting for what, exactly, he didn’t know.

Maybe he was waiting for her to come out for him? To feel his presence like some lovers do, and just magically jump in his arms— as if he hadn’t hurt her before.

Kyōjurō wasn’t quite sure about his plan anymore. Especially since he remembered the look on her face when he chose to stay silent in the peak of her anger. He wanted nothing more than to tell her that he did love her, he just couldn’t hurt her more on the off chance that he died.

The Flame Hashira didn’t even know just how long he had been standing there— clearly trespassing— but he was past the point of caring. He just wanted even the smallest glimpse of her; one look and that would tide him over.

One glimpse of her and that would soothe his aching heart.

Kyōjurō felt something cold hit his cheek then; one tiny drop, that was then followed by more and more droplets— until he was standing under a torrential downpour. Yet he couldn’t care less about his dripping clothes, or his hair that was matted to his face.

All of that seemed trivial compared to the pain that he felt when he lost (Y/n).

The rain was pelting him harder than before, yet he still stood there— waiting right by her open window; hoping that she would take the time to even walk past it.

However, (Y/n) did more than what Kyōjurō was asking for. She went right up to her open window and had begun to close it, when she looked up and saw a figure that she would never forget in her lifetime.

Her hands froze right where they were holding on to the window, and her heart practically lurched in her chest before coming to an absolute standstill.

And, before she could process what she was doing, she already found herself rushing out the shoji and hastening towards Kyōjurō. She felt every possible emotion bubbling up within her, telling her to rage and scream at him— yet also telling her to pull him close and never let him go.

So, she did both.

She stopped right in front of a wide-eyed Kyōjurō and lifted her hand up— swinging it up to slap him across the face, before she cupped his cheeks and pulled him down to finally kiss those lips that she had been missing for so long.

Kyōjurō didn’t even fight it; not getting mad at getting slapped, at the very least. He knew that he deserved that, and he also knew that he didn’t deserve (Y/n)’s kiss— yet he still found himself melting into her. His arms had even wrapped themselves around her; pulling her in against his chest as he savored the taste of her lips.

Both of them didn’t know how long they stood there beneath the downpour, so lost in each other that they paid no mind to the cold seeping into their skin. Everything else came second to each other, as both of them had been longing for that reunion.

Even when Kyōjurō pulled away and tucked a few strands of hair away from (Y/n)’s face, the only thing that he could do was lean down and kiss her again— all before hugging her as tight as he would allow him to.

And, before he could stop himself, he found the words rolling off his tongue and meshing in with the rain— yet also rising above the sounds of the world around them. “Run away with me.”

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku x reader

330 notes · View notes

highqueenofelfhame · 3 years ago

Text

fafs, twenty four

so i was definitely going to wait to post this until tomorrow or the day after but then decided to say fuck it and in the spirit of rowaelin month am just giving it to you now, whatever. who needs rules. or regulations. not me.

follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites and turn on post notifs to receive updates (i don't do taglists anymore, sorry folks!) masterlist//support me with a ko-fi//redbubble

It was nowhere near the worst injury she’d ever had, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

The living room floor of one of her smaller sanctuaries had been turned into a makeshift operating room. A trash bag was laid out beneath her, rustling with every move she made. The first aid kit that had been untouched and hidden under the kitchen sink was open with all its pieces scattered around her. A brand new bottle of vodka sat to her right, several shots worth already buzzing through her veins. It would take at least one more swig before she got started, but it was already difficult to slide the thread into the needle, so she was holding off until she was just about ready to begin.

Gods damn the agent that shot her. Aelin would bet money that it was Remelle, the blonde bitch that had been pawing at Rowan for years. Before, when she was Lilian, she’d heard a wide array of stories about the woman and her unwanted advances. Ever since Aelin had been introduced to the FBI as a criminal informant, she had shot daggers at her in every meeting, likely angry Aelin was spending so much time with Rowan. Despite how much of that time was angry banter from Rowan, no matter if Aelin was trying to thaw out his icy inner and exterior.

None of that mattered now. She could have Rowan if she really wanted him. Maybe they were already together and--

Aelin stopped those thoughts in their tracks, eyes focusing on the task at hand. There were bigger things to worry about, like getting out of the city and, most importantly, the bleeding wound on her thigh. She chewed on her lip until the thread finally made it into the curved needle, and she held back a cheer as she sloshed some vodka over the wound on her thigh. Hissing through her teeth, she thanked the gods that it wasn’t any worse.

It wasn’t even that bad, considering everything else she’d experienced. There was the time Arobynn had stabbed a dagger through her palm, and she’d had to stitch up the injury herself. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d been sliced and jabbed in training. Her list of broken bones and scars was a long one. Once she got older and was better at her job than all of the men combined, training had become more of a game of survival. They had been out for blood, shedding hers in red tears on the floor until she managed to incapacitate them enough to claim the victory for herself.

This gunshot wound was minor. It hadn’t nicked anything major, and it had taken a while for Aelin to realize she’d even been shot. The adrenaline from running from the full force of the FBI had been enough to repel the pain until she was nearly to her safehouse. She was four blocks away when she realized her pace was slowing and that there was a sharp, hot pain throbbing in her left thigh. A glance down told her everything she needed to know. She had limped straight through the front door and to the first aid kit, where she now prepared to stitch her own leg up.

At one point, there had been a numbing agent in this bag, but she remembered using it on Sam after a nasty fight with Arobynn one night when she was twenty-one. Since then, she’d seldom been to this safehouse and had neglected to restock her kit. There was barely enough of the nylon thread left over, but she would manage. Aelin made a mental note to have someone, either Nox or herself, replenish the missing items.

With a deep breath and a final swig of vodka, she picked up the forceps and shimmied the tension from her shoulders while she hunched over her leg, ready to begin.

With the first stick and the drag of the thread through her skin, Aelin bit her lip so hard she drew blood. It was a bizarre and uncomfortable feeling accompanied by a slight burning sensation. Several times she groaned while she sewed her skin back together. By the time she was finished, her mouth tasted metallic, and the trash bag beneath her was covered in droplets of blood. Her bare thigh looked grim and would leave behind a jagged, ugly scar, but she doused it once more in vodka before wiping away the blood with a damp piece of gauze. Her hands were mostly steady while she placed a bandage over the top and taped it down.

It was just another painful memory that would soon fade to silvery skin. How many more would it take until she was free?

Shaking her head to pull her from any thoughts too negative to deal with right now, Aelin smiled a bit. She was almost pleased with herself for handling the entire situation so well, but the reality of the situation was soon to crash down on her. It didn’t take long for her to get up, going about the tiny house and jerking all the curtains closed. Hardly any natural light was able to filter in through the gaps in the curtains for how tightly she’d twisted at the blinds until they were sealed completely shut. Thumbtacks were shoved into the walls to keep anyone curious from peering inside. She would move to another place in a day or two, she promised herself, after she had time to dye her hair and her wound wasn’t so fresh.

Every lock on every door was twisted into place-- seven locks on both the front and back doors. Only two of those locks could be opened with a key from the outside. The other five were inside only, a variation of deadbolts and chain locks that made her feel secure.

Only when she was satisfied that she was as safe for the time being did she go to the single bedroom and lock the door behind her. In a handful of heartbeats, she collapsed on the old quilt and drifted into a fitful sleep.

~*~

The news that it would take weeks, maybe months, of physical therapy to have his shoulder back to one-hundred percent was irritating to say the least. Rowan would be out of work for a while, but that wasn’t the most frustrating part of the situation. He would be wearing the restrictive sling for weeks, only to take it off when he changed clothes or showered. They didn’t even allow him to take it off to sleep, for gods’ sake. Rowan would be sleeping sitting up for the foreseeable future, and he was fucking annoyed about it.

The last few nights sleeping in the hospital had been anything but fruitful. Not only was he woken by the nurses coming in to check on him every few hours, every single time he tried to adjust to a more comfortable position, he was reminded of the sling. The pain was nearly suffocating. Rowan had heard from Fenrys about how bad shoulder injuries were, but this was on another level of anything he had ever experienced.

So why he was standing in the abandoned apartment of the woman who had shot the bullet through it in the first place was beyond him at the moment.

It wasn’t the apartment littered with cameras and paid for by the bureau. It was the one she’d lived in privately before her beating and arrest. It was the one decorated with opulence and taste. With artwork that wouldn’t surprise Rowan to find it had been stolen and was priceless. The one with books stacking shelves every which way, those novels bookmarked and annotated, as he had just learned. Like she loved them so much, she couldn’t help but document her favorite and least favorite parts.

The linens closet was filled with the softest blankets and nicest sheets Rowan had ever felt in his life. Silk sheets were currently stretched over the mattress in her bedroom, a thing that Rowan had thought she’d quipped as a joke once.

“Sorry, the sheets aren’t Egyptian cotton for whatever the hell you’re used to,” he’d said, a bite in his tone as he showed her the dump of an apartment the bureau had decided on for her.

“Silk,” she winked. “Feels good against my skin when I sleep naked.”

It hadn’t been a joke. He ran his fingers over the fabric and almost smiled at the memory but forced his lips into a frown instead. As he looked around the room, the nearly ostentatious yet somehow tasteful room, he missed her. He hated himself for it, but he missed her. The woman had shot him through the shoulder, but the pain in his heart was somehow worse. His first thought when he woke in the hospital from surgery had been about if they’d found her and she was safe, gods above. Everything about himself was secondary, and he didn’t really care.

But they hadn’t found her. There was no trace of her after her anklet was cut. Nobody had seen her; traffic cams had stopped picking her up like she had just… vanished. He hated that she was so good at her job, so good at being a criminal.

Deep down, Rowan knew that wasn’t what bothered him. It never really had. There wasn’t a part of her soul that he had seen and didn’t understand or want to love. Nothing she had ever done had pushed him away in the slightest. Her honesty about her life and the vulnerability she had shown him only made him respect and love her more.

He wasn’t mad that she shot him. Was he annoyed that he couldn’t use his arm? Of course. But he understood. Rowan understood that she felt backed into a corner and betrayed, and she went into fight or flight mode. In this case, it had been fight and flight. He had stepped too close and got shot in return. It was fair. She was used to fighting her way out of situations, so of course, it was the route she’d taken.

He just wanted her to slip up for once so he could just find her and talk to her. Figure out whatever the hell was going on when they’d argued before she shot him, then disappeared in the middle of the day in a bustling city. Rowan wasn’t even mad that she hadn’t been caught. In fact, he was glad they hadn’t caught her.

Rowan didn’t want her to be found. The full force of the FBI would rain down on her like a hurricane and she would be shown no mercy. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted her suffering in an interrogation room, throwing around the word allegedly like she used to throw daggers. For her to be thrown back in that dismal jail cell awaiting a death sentence that almost assuredly awaited her for what happened at the bureau.

But he was still frustrated as all hell that he couldn’t find her now, no matter how much he didn’t want her rotting in prison on the outskirts of the city.

It was while he stood with his fingers running over the silk of her sheets that he heard the jingling of keys at her front door. It was surprising, considering he’d had to pick several locks to get up here in the first place. Rowan flattened his body against the bedroom wall, listening to the front door open and close.

The footsteps that followed weren’t Aelin’s, though. They were a little louder, carrying a larger and heavier body. Rowan moved to stand in the doorway, startling the man in the center of the room. He dropped the bag he was carrying, swearing loudly as he bent to pick it back up.

“Gods above, Suit,” he murmured, dropping the bag on the kitchen counter. “What are you doing here? Getting something for Celaena?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Rowan inquired, noting that the bag he carried contained nothing of real importance. If anything, it looked like a combination of garden tools and art supplies.

“I think I stashed something here if we’re being candid and off the record, which I would very much appreciate if we were, by the way. I’ve come to collect.” Haversham -- Rowan still didn’t know the man’s real name -- began digging around Aelin’s bookshelves, looking behind and even inside some of her books that turned out not to be books at all. They looked like books, but when opened in the middle were hidden pockets. Some were empty; some weren’t. Rowan noticed a few that had different bits of identification tucked away. None of that seemed to be what Haversham looked for as he simply closed them and put them back on the shelves.

“Where is she?” Rowan finally asked, a little boldly.

“Can’t you check that fancy anklet you have her wearing and figure it out? I haven’t seen her in a week. She isn’t calling me back, either, so when you do see her, can you tell her that I…” The man trailed off after looking up from his search and seeing Rowan’s face. Rowan’s hard, unyielding face and the concern that was likely etched in his features. The wrinkle between his brow, the stiff way he held his lips. Haversham’s head tilted curiously.

“Holy gods, did she make a run for it?”

“Something happened at the bureau. I can’t find her. Neither can they. But I need to talk to her. I can’t help her otherwise.”

“Do you want to help her?” The sound that came from Rowan was nearly a growl, and Haversham retreated a step with his hands raised defensively. “Look, I’m just saying. She wouldn’t make a run for it unless it was something serious and you’re incapacitated at the moment. Which leads me to believe that she did it; otherwise, you wouldn’t be hurt at all. Celaena wouldn’t let somebody hurt you. So either you really fucked up--”

“I did, but only by not protecting her and defending her when it mattered.”

Haversham twisted his mouth to the side while he gave Rowan a hard once-over. It was like he was assessing everything he knew about his character while deciding if he would help him or not. There was a prolonged silence that made Rowan want to throw something at the man, but he waited it out.

“I’m only going to help you because you make her happy. And I don’t mean superficially. I mean that for the first time in the eight years I’ve known her, she’s been happier and more alive than I’ve ever seen her. I know she trusted you more than she’s ever trusted anyone else. More than me, which doesn’t say much considering I think she trusts me as far as she can throw me. But she trusts you more than Sam even.” Finally, he ripped a page from one of the books and began to scrawl across the page until it was nearly full. When he handed it to Rowan, he realized it was a collection of addresses. Some were in the city; some were in other countries. Some were a handful of hours of a drive into nowhere. One was practically around the corner from where they were now.

“What is this?”

“Safehouses. Those are the ones I know about. Celaena has… a lot of secrets. I don’t know even half of them. I have my suspicions about a lot of shit, but I’m letting her come to me with it when she’s ready. So I don’t know all of her safehouses, but I know those ones. Those are the ones she’s let me use in times of trouble. That’s the only help I can really offer you besides calling if I hear from her.”

“Thank you,” Rowan said softly, and he meant it. It was the biggest and only lead that he had on her whereabouts, and even if she wasn’t crashing on a bed in any of these places, it was a start. It was the only hope he had so far that maybe, just maybe… he might find her.

~*~

Rowan had decided to start on the outside and work his way in, and it was wasting a lot of time. Everyone he was friendly with at the bureau was constantly calling and texting to see how he was doing, asking what he was up to. Fenrys told him he’d stopped by his apartment a few times this week, and he hadn’t been home. Rowan replied, saying he was just taking some time to himself, which seemed to satisfy the man, and that had been that.

In reality, Rowan had been in Terrasen trying to find Aelin. She wasn’t in either of the two listed near the border of Adarlan, so now he was slowly working his way back toward Rifthold. It just didn’t seem likely for her to be hiding somewhere in the city, not when she would have to leave for food and other necessities at some point. So he’d gone as far out as he could before making his way back. So far, it had turned up nothing. Both of the cabins he’d visited in the woods had seen better days and likely hadn’t seen Aelin in years.

He was driving toward his fourth destination now, so deep in Oakwald, he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t back in Terrasen at this point. The location pinged on the Adarlanian side of the border, but he had little hope of actually finding her. There were only two safehouses left on the list, and both of them were in the city itself. Would he still check them? Of course. But did he think that she was stupid enough to be there? Absolutely not.

The energy of the place was different as soon as he made it up the drive. Halfway up, a gate that covered the driveway, and Rowan had to abandon his car and hop the fence. It was a bit of a feat, as it was taller than him, and he only had one good arm to use, but he managed. Even if it had taken him three times as long as it usually would have. Feet pounding down against the dirt so hard it caused a small cloud, he proceeded up toward the small cottage with a little more confidence than he’d had the rest of the drive.

Smoke was wafting from the chimney, and a dim glow flickered in the window. The window that a lithe body stood in, peering through the curtains and backlit by the fire. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew it was Aelin, knew he’d been spotted, and knew she was watching. How she had known he’d arrived, he wasn’t sure. Being overcautious her entire life likely meant that there were tripwires that alerted her of his presence somewhere on the driveway.

As he got closer, she disappeared, and the curtains slipped back into place. When he got to the door, he reached out but hesitated for a moment. Aelin clearly didn’t want to be found and was clearly mad at him. What if she did worse than she had the last time they’d seen each other? Part of him thought she wouldn’t, but he hadn’t ever thought she would shoot him, either. Rowan wasn’t sure how many times she had told him she hated guns, but desperate times call for desperate measures, after all.

It took more courage than he cared to admit to turn the knob. Much to his surprise, the door opened, and he slipped inside, shutting it behind him quietly. To be frank, Rowan couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to find her at all, much less on a list of places that Haversham managed to remember.

As his eyes adjusted to the room, he saw Aelin sitting across the room with a bottle of rum in one hand, balanced on her thigh. She was slumped down a bit in the chair; her hair dyed a muddy reddish-brown color. A dagger was in her other hand, being twisted in circles against her bare leg. Rowan wanted to tell her to stop, that she would hurt herself, but faster than he could register, she was moving. He was stunned further into silence by the whistling of the wind and the slight breeze by his ear. A loud thud had him whipping around to the door.

Embedded in the wood, millimeters from where his head had just been, was the dagger she’d been holding, and when he looked back at Aelin, she was smirking.

118 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 4 years ago

Text

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

909 notes · View notes