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jawllines · 4 years ago

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“You’re really gonna go in there?” Y/N queries gently, and Harry only nods his head in response, reaching for the door handle. An urgent, delicate touch of Y/N’s hand startles him, looping around his wrist and dragging his attention toward her, “Shouldn’t we have a game plan if something is behind the door?” She asks, her hold on him tightening just a little, and Harry notes how soft her palm feels against his skin, “Like, let’s say we open the door and a behemoth is standing there, what do we do?”

“The only behemoth that could fit in this tiny room is the band from Poland, Babe, and I reckon they have better things to do on a Thursday night,” he retorts, clenching around the knob and tilting it down, “Now unless you want to hold hands in there. . .”

She lets go before he can finish, and he doesn’t have to look back at her face to know she’s irate. A small smile quirks at his mouth as he pushes his shoulder against the heavy door to aid him opening it, bracing himself to see something potentially horrid. . .

And there’s nothing.

Harry and Y/N are witches, they hate each other, and something’s coming

19K+ words

(A/N: Hiii!! So, I’ll be honest I know absolutely nothing about real witches at all, so what is in this story is not fact! it’s just an AU and doesn’t speak toward any of my real witches out there unless i accidentally got some things right. Happy reading, I really liked writing these guys I hope you like them just as much!!)

It was dark.

Both in the state of the sky and the feeling that slithered through Y/N’s body while she tended to the Brugmansia finally flowering in her garden. The shift in the air could have easily been inculpated by the cool breeze that blew past her face, shepherding clouds thick and heavy with autumn rain, but Y/N knew better than that. Those feelings typically bring her peace; the rattle of thunder soothes her aching bones while fat drops paint the pavement, wet the dirt to mud, and feed the drying grass.

This feeling made her bones rattle. It crawled beneath her skin like billions of tiny beetles unearthed within her vessels; her stomach churned, her shoulders were weighed down, there was a gnawing pain at her temples, so fierce she held her hand to them. The cold brass of her ring cools her heated skin. This feeling was vile, it was awful, for fuck sake what was causing it?

She stood from her crouched position and slid back into her store. Technically, she’d closed about three hours prior so she should have been home well by now, but when she’d finally gathered her things in her duffle at 12, she looked out the back window and noticed some of her moonflowers had begun to bloom. There was a small part of her that had been reluctant to step outside at all, but she needed to greet them and water them, no matter the odd, unfamiliar troubling sense that had initially confused her. She ignored it -- she thought maybe she was just nervous to say hi to them, sometimes she was.

(Flowers and plants hold a special connection with their caretaker, from a tiny seed to a flourishing garden, they place their lives in the care of the earth or a human. If not properly nursed, their wilted petals appear so quickly, a silent plea for water, or sun, or even a little attention -- Y/N found that plants liked a little attention. That’s why she spoke to them, she cooed and gave them well-wishes when she left them alone. They felt just a part of her family as any blood relative had, from the moment she had sliced the tip of her finger in a torn brush and the petal she’d touched afterward fused together her tiny wound. Her nan had always told her that maybe she was a bit closer to plants than others were, so she probably shouldn’t share this with kids in her class because they might be jealous of her (Y/N knows now her nan just didn’t want her getting picked on.)

It was clear to her now that this feeling was a bit more than that when her goose pimples sunk back into her skin after stepping into the warmth of her store. Though it was not just because she had been keeping her shop pleasantly warm as the nights grow colder and longer; she kept herself protected in here. In between these walls lied a sanctitude that kept all evil out, in all manners, of all species, besides two.

One of which is her bunny, Thumper, who in all ways but emotionally was her familiar. He was a ghostly white Holland lop, with big dopey ears that she slid her fingers beneath and flipped up and down in spare moments. She accuses him of being evil because he’s always nipping at her fingertips, demanding food with a stomp of his foot, and gives the silent threat that he’ll nibble on her plants if she really pisses him off (he stands by them, twitches his little nose and shows his two front teeth until she gives him what he wants -- it’s usually more hay). He’s nothing but a little, greedy nuisance that showed up on her step one day and hadn’t left since.

The other. . .well, the other was Harry Styles.

Y/N liked most witches, no matter their point of interest. She knew that there could be a certain level of distrust amongst the syndicate -- hexes, and curses placed upon one another, but she tried to stay out of that -- she held no disfavor toward most of the others either. Everyone connected with things very differently, what she may connect with might not be that of what her neighbor connected with and that was okay. Her nan’s emotions had been in accord with the sea, and even though Y/N spent most of her life fearing water, she bore no judgment.

What she does is done in the mind of good favor, of bettering oneself with the world around them in a way that would beneficial to not only them but the people in their lives. Open up otherwise closed eyes to the beauty of the spirit and soul they possess, and the beauty and soul that the world around them held. The town she had moved to at 20 was so rich in natural beauty, ponderosa pine and hemlock trees grew tall in an extensive, juniper green forest almost always clouded with thick fog, the soil was soft and fertile, the air was crisp and clean. She felt happy here and wanted the others around her to recognize how lucky they were to be in an area so free of sordidity.

There was an empty shop up the brick road of the older part of town, that had been crowded in cobwebs, leaves that had blown in from the broken window, and animal droppings. Her nan came to help her clean it up (her mum had too, but she was dog tired after her workweek so spent most of the visit asleep on Y/N’s couch), and did something short of absolving the land so that she could grow a garden behind the store, in the clearing of 200 or so meters before it meets the mouth of the forest. She sold herbs, people came to her for intricate, meaningful bouquets with flowers that could not be found in just any store (and she was good to her plants, so if she asked very kindly, and sent them with a packet that produced a very special brew when dumped in the water, they would live very, very, suspiciously long), plants that would liberate people of their aches and pains so long as they tended to them, journals of reused paper, scrubs, oils. . .there were many things. She offered classes too, to help people learn how to better cater to their flowers.

That had been a year ago, so she was still finding her footing, but not six months into this happy reality she had created for herself, Harry Styles had come to town. It took nothing but a few minutes of coming to contact with him that he was a bad apple, and when the once sweet-tempered town had begun mottling with dark splotches, she knew for sure. Harry was like her, but his book of shadows had pages filled with wicked words of revenge, conjuring demons and letting them wreak havoc. His business was more under the cuff -- he posed as a writer who needed a scenery change for his work, but Y/N knew it had to be more than that -- but he did his bidding in the night, seeding through clubs, in alleyways, in the forest. . .if someone knew about Harry, it was because they knew a guy who knows a guy.

And for some reason, unbeknownst to her, he refused to leave her be.

This is why it almost makes sense that the bell of her store would jingle brightly no matter the fact she’d locked the doors hours ago, and her attention would be brought to the pest himself. He wore a sweater that threatened to swallow him whole, and baggy, holey jeans he rolled at the cuff showing off his bat printed socks, stuffed into grandpa-Esque loafers. The necklace he always wears around his neck (a small pendant that she had never gotten close enough to make out) is sat atop of his sweater today rather than hidden beneath it as it usually is. His hair is getting longer, more unruly with his warm brown curls than it had been when she first met him -- she really hadn’t known he’d had curly hair until the more recent months when it had started growing out.

His eyes were always the same soft, crystal green that matched his character none, and a pawky smirk on his mouth as he dragged his fingers along the lavender jars placed on her shelves, “Shouldn’t you be home by now? I figure it’s past your bedtime.” He leans down like he is about to pick something up, and when Y/N peers over the counter, she sees him slide his hand beneath Thumper’s soft white belly and pull him up to his chest. That was another indicator that Harry was just no good -- he was the only human that he liked, and the little creatine didn’t even like her.

“Shouldn’t you?” She flips it, continuing to gather her things so she could head home for the night.

“You know these are my typical hours, Babe -- everyone wants to curse someone at 1 AM, there was a study done in the east end.” He pets between Thumper’s ears as he sets him down on the counter beside the cash register, before he reaches out for the wooden crafted incense burners, “Have these cheap little things been selling any?”

“Piss off,” she stuffs her phone into her purse, then flips through her things to make sure her wallet was tucked in there as well, “What do you want, Harry? I’m about to go home, if you wanted to come around to bother me you should have hours ago.”

Harry feigns a gasp like he does any time she curses, “Thought good little witches didn’t have such foul tongues?” He flicks the candle jar on her counter, an apple scent had been melting around the wick for the better half of the day, “I don’t want anything in particular, just passing through. You know you’re right in the way of the forest, don’t you? S’kinda of obnoxious when you’re trying to summon imps at the cave -- they hate the bloody “stench” of the flowers.”

“Good,” she retorts, “You shouldn’t be summoning around here anyway, this area’s off-limits.”

It was barely an agreement but still an agreement nonetheless -- if Harry left her be, she would leave him be because Y/N wasn’t an idiot. If he wanted a fight, Harry could start one and he would fight dirty. All she asks him is to stay away from her store and her flat, and to keep away from certain areas of the forest where the soil was always soft -- in return, he would do his activities, sometimes he would need her flowers for different spells and she would turn a blind eye to what he was doing. She does a few gentle protection spells here and there but otherwise, he’s a free man to do as he pleases, just so long as he respects her request. He’d seemed perturbed by the conditions none -- had even chuckled and said as long as he let her keep her “pretty little flowers” he could get away with murder.

A heavy, weary sigh leaves him, “Yes, I’m well aware,” he rolled his eyes before crossing his arms on top of the counter and tucking his face in his elbow, “Gimme a moment though, it’s warm in here and I was freezing outside.” He muffles into his sweater.

Y/N had almost forgotten what she had felt prior to coming back inside, but his words bring it clearly to the forefront of her mind once more. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, hearing the floorboards creak beneath her as she wondered if he’d felt it too. It couldn’t have been him -- no, he was powerful but by no means powerful enough to conjure up something like that. And she’d like to ask him, but Harry has never been someone who took her seriously -- he would just make a joke of it, probably, or tease her. It wouldn’t be worth asking.

But the feeling that she’d gotten is chewing on her memory, so she asks anyway, “Hey,” she began and the only indication that he was listening to her is the fact his fingers stopped tapping against the wood beneath them, “Did you. . .when you were outside, did you feel that?”

He picks his head up from the crevice of his arm, “You’re gonna have to be a bit more descriptive than ‘that’,” his brows are raised as he continues, “Are you talking about the new pleasant but cold breeze we’ve gained for autumn, or the gut-twisting odious one?”

Y/N looks at him impassively, “The latter, idiot.”

“Yeah, I felt it,” he ignores her insult, “What about it?”

The skin between her brows pinches, “Are you not concerned? It felt. . .bad,” she couldn’t think of a better word to describe it, “I didn’t like it at all.”

“Are you scared?” There is delight swimming in Harry’s gaze as he stands up straighter, “Don’t tell me Glinda the Good Witch herself is scared of a little frightening feeling? I thought you were tough as nails and all that, hm?”

“Never mind, forget I even brought it up,” she tried to dismiss it, as she slings her purse over her shoulder and plucks Thumper up to sit him in the cradle of her arms -- she knew better than to ask him like she might get any comfort at all from his words.

He steps up and in front of her before she could start toward the door, “Oi, listen scaredy-cat, I don’t know if you’re aware but I deal with shite like this all the time, which means I’ve got a few banishments spells up my sleeve. If it’s really something that awful, I’ll cast it back to hell, easy as that.” Harry follows close behind her as she exits the door, feeling the same shiver of fear slither through her body, “I do want to see what it wants first though.”

“Of course you do,” she utters in disappointment, “Just keep it away from my garden, please.”

“I’ll try,” he tells her just as she reaches her car before he dips into his pocket and reveals that he’d stolen a baggy of chamomile, “If I didn’t keep your precious garden safe, then I wouldn’t have anywhere to get enchanted chamomile, and it works lovely in a sleepy time tea, I’ll tell you that -- your lavender is shit though. Never puts me to sleep like it ought to.”

She pops open her car door, “Stop taking stuff from the store, or I’ll start lacing it with laxatives.”

“While you’re doing that, won’t you plant them Clathrus mushrooms? I reckon the imps would prefer them way more than the mums.” He looks serious -- not a trace of a joke laced in his features and somehow that leaves Y/N more irritated than if he were laughing at her as he spoke.

Her response is blunt, “No.”

“Listen --”

“Harry, I’m not going to plant mushrooms for the damn imps!”

. . .

When Y/N had met Harry, she was angry.

She had never been a very angry person. Seldom has someone or something truly has gotten so deeply beneath her skin that she felt the need to yell or grump about it -- mild irritation was never off the table, but true, unadulterated wrath and resentment? It was rare she ever felt the need to even make a snide comment. And that wasn’t to say she was better than anyone else, she was just mild-tempered and forbearing. . .it took a little more than a remark or two to make her angry.

But when she was angry, she was an amalgamation of vexation and fire, and there was no surer way to disrupt her peaceful demeanor than to compromise her flowers.

The day had been uneventful up to that point. It’d been a week since Harry had moved into town and Y/N was surely feeling the negativity that followed in his wake, but she was focusing on maintaining the tranquil, idyllic environment that she had around her previous. As much as she would have loved to seek him out, ready to squabble, tell him off for bringing any dark energy into such a calm place -- she had to come at it pragmatically. She and her friend Niall (who wasn’t a witch but knew about her) had both agreed that while it was aggravating, they didn’t know him. They did not understand the depth of his power, or what he was here for, nor had they understood wholly what he was capable of. Y/N had felt his presence, but Niall had confirmed it after hearing the underground chatter of a dark witch who made promises to turn glitter to gold.

She was on her way to her store. Though she was closed on weekends, she always went by to check on the flowers, water them, tell them about her day, and with her was Thumper who would be hopping around the grassy field and gnawing on the blades. It was very peaceful -- the time she spent with her plants -- so she always looked forward to it, but that day she was filled with trepidation as she parked her car. Something was off. . .not in the air, but with her flowers -- she could feel it deep in her marrow that they were in pain.

So she huffed it to the back of the store, and there she found Harry, two of her purple vervains nestled against his palm. He noticed her before she could even think to say anything, and something short of relief had flushed through him, “Oh thank fuck, you’re here,” he sighs, referencing her garden with a wave of his hands, “I cannot for the life of me remember what hazel looks like.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Y/N demanded, stomping toward him, but instead of shoving him to the ground like she wanted to, she dropped to her knees and caressed the remaining vervain, “Why would you pluck them like that? They aren’t ready!”

“Ready? They’ve flowered haven’t they?” His brows had been tilted while his mouth dipped in a frown, “I need them for an incantation, figured you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed these two. Aren’t we meant to help each other out?”

“You should have asked, you prick,” she pointed up at him, “And even if you had, I would have said no. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you’re really disturbing an otherwise pleasant place. I wish you would leave.’

Harry feigned hurt, placing a hand to his chest, “You wound me,” he mocks her, “Listen Glinda Good Witch, we all gotta get by somehow, yeah? Not all of us talk to plants or whatever it is you do. So do you want me to pay or --”

“Those won’t work for whatever it is you’re trying to do,” she cut him off, “If it’s something with cruel intent, it won’t happen -- they were grown to do good.”

“Which is exactly why I needed them from you,” he wiggles them in her direction, “Well, I need to get going. You’re awful in particular about a garden that is subpar at best. Wish you well, see you later.”

Then he left. No guilt, no apology -- he just up and left, and Y/N was livid.

(Later that night when she had explained the situation to Niall, he was nothing short of outraged, so they had tried to find out more about Harry. Anything about him, really, but he leaves a very little paper trail in his endeavors -- from public records they find that he’s 25 and from Holmes Chapel, and from a google search they find he has two books out, published online, and doing decently well. There was nothing else apart from that, he kept his socials pretty dry, and what he did post was nonsensical drivel.)

Y/N thinks about this, as she sinks into her tub, the burning water scalding against her skin. Harry had always driven her mad but he has never seemed half as angry as she was -- hell if anything he always seemed like he enjoyed it.

He was just absolutely rotten.

. . .

Harry thinks Y/N is just absolutely rotten.

There were many reasons that he had classified her as such, but namely what he was concerned about now was how she kept her shop closed on the weekends.

Who kept their store closed the entire bloody weekend?

It wasn’t so much that he wanted to see her -- Harry actually found the girl quite plaguy. Her opinions on his practice were priggish, not unlike the others like them he had met in the past. There has always been an unfaltering stigma that was carried with what he did, one that was quite hard to shake within the factions of other witches that are sprinkled across the world. He’s seen as careless, cruel, greedy, and selfish -- he doesn’t practice magic for the love of the world around him, to feel a deeper, spiritual connection with the fecund soil that covered the earth, or with the water gently slipping past rocks along a stream bank. They look at him and see someone who shakes hands with the devil and ruins lives for a cookie.

Harry lets them think as they wish, he has no patience to attempt correcting them. If they’d bothered to learn an inch about him at all before passing their judgment then they would have a clue about his true character, but the jury had already made the decision before Harry even realized he was on trial. They never really wanted to give Harry a chance, so he knew he would be hated no matter where he decided to reside. The pack mentality that they carry is the reason he has to move around so often though (more than any 25 years old was typically doing) he gets run out of a lot of areas because a group of soft witches decides he’s no good.

That’s what drew him to this place -- there was practically nobody. He could sense when there were more like him loitering around an area, and made an effort to keep a decently low profile so that he could stay around longer (but they always managed to find him), but here, he only sensed one. That had been good enough for him to know this was the right move -- the beautiful scenery surrounding them; the soft bed of dirt that Harry’s feet would sink into easily; the dense, damp fog that covered the forest floor in the early mornings; the lush, green trees and how life seemed to remain there when it was meant to be waning in the colder months -- all of that, had only been a plus.

When he’d met Y/N, he knew that she disliked him, but Harry had expected as much so it disturbed him none. If anything, he was delighted to have a purer witch than himself around, all things considered. There were no others that she could develop a hive mind with to drive him out of town, but she was no competition to the businesses that he provided, and when a decoction called for an obscure plant or an unsullied petal -- well, a Garden witch was not the worst kind to have nearby. She may be devout in her notions that Harry was a disagreeable, repugnant being, but she was good at what she did. Anything done with her plants was twice as effective as any other person’s flowers he’d used in the past, so it was necessary he bothered her often.

She refused to sell to him -- something about her doing business with a demon, or whatever she’d said -- but so long as he doesn’t go and cut them from the stem himself, she helps him out. Will give him the plants he needs, and in return, he doesn’t taint certain areas of the town and the forest that she declared were off-limits. It was a spoken commercial agreement that both of them went by and because of it, their lives near to one another were comparatively peaceful to any other situation Harry has found him in prior.

That didn’t come without its faults. They butt heads often, their bickering is nonstop, and Harry could think of many things he would rather do than have to stay in a room with her for longer than the ten minutes it takes him to get what he needs. It was fun to fluster her -- getting beneath her skin was an easy feat that he found a lot of joy in, and sometimes she gave him a run for his money. He always kind of liked making a normally mild-tempered person grump at him a little, if not for his impish ways, then so he could get to know them as their full self.

So he wasn’t mad that she was closed because he particularly wanted to see her, no, he was mad because he was exhausted. Absolutely drained. The business was incredible when you’re the only dark witch willing to do some questionable, immoral things, but that also meant long nights and incredible emotional toil -- it wasn’t a walk in the park to conjure up a bloody demon!

Ever since Harry had started this path, he’d had immense trouble sleeping at appropriate times, if he could fall asleep at all. He guesses this was what he gets in return for what he practices, and it could be worse so he doesn’t mind it too much, but it was still a hassle. It had been a good four years since Harry just had a good, peaceful night of sleep.

Up until he had moved here, of course, because the same little garden witch that thought he was the devil incarnate, made a tea he could brew that set him right to sleep. Kept him asleep the entire night too, which had always been an impossible endeavor spanning back to when he was a child, but there was something about her chamomile -- hell, it really knocked him out.

He tested his theory -- part of him thought that maybe chamomile was suddenly working for him, but no matter the brand that he tried, or the amount of tea he drank, none of it could compare to what Y/N’s did. When he visited her store, he took what he could to hold him off to the next time he came by. He hadn’t realized how low he was though when he had seen her last and she threatened to lace it with laxatives -- he should have taken two because he used his last bit the night prior to the one he’s suffering through right now.

And he could have gotten more this morning if she didn’t close her stupid shop on weekends!

If Harry were not positive that he needed to rest, he wouldn’t bother to be trying. There was nothing worse to him than the laying in his bed and waiting for sleep that refused to come...it felt like he was being stood up by a date. It hasn’t happened often, but enough that Harry could match the feeling low in his stomach, indicative of discontent and sadness while he waited. . . . .and waited. . . .and waited. . . .and waited.

It was useless -- the universe’s retribution for summoning spirits to the living world left him with what a doctor might diagnose as chronic insomnia, but none of the treatments did him any good. No mortal medicinal could soothe him of this ailment. So one would think he would be smarter about keeping a hearty stock of it at his disposal rather than one at a time, but Harry never claimed to be the best at planning ahead.

And now here he was, staring at his ceiling fan whirl, his cat at his side while he contemplated if breaking and entering her shop was against his morals (he had a few left, surprisingly).

God, she was so rotten!

. . .

“Have you felt weird lately?”

“Hm?” Niall’s face scrunches up in confusion, his mouth stuffed full of noodles he just slurpped into his mouth, “Wha’ d’ya mean?” He muffles out, reaching over to her side of the table for a napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth.

The record store that Niall worked at wasn’t too far from Y/N’s shop so if her day wasn’t too busy, she would step away from the store for her lunch break and seek him out. It was never a planned ordeal; Y/N would stop off somewhere to get them something to eat and appear at his storefront, the sharp ding of the bell knotted on the door alerted him of her presence. He was always one of two places: in the back, tuning the old guitars the owner would bid on different websites, or he was in the front thumbing through the record baskets, organizing and reorganizing them by name. Sometimes he would be sat behind the counter, with his feet kicked up just beside the register but Y/N scolds him for that (he’s always wearing a dingy, scuffed pair of shoes that have no business seeing the light of day, let alone be shown off to others).

His head would perk up, he would look toward the door, and his face would bloom into one of sheer delight as he would call over to her, “Oh, thank fuck! Thought I would go crazy if I had to listen to myself think for one more second.”

Today was no different. She brought him ramen from the place three buildings down from his own, where she bends down a street that feels more like an alleyway and the door is hidden beneath a brassy fire escape. The owners were always very kind to her, and since she came often and tipped well, they would give her free bowls if they were in the mood. Y/N never liked the idea of a one-sided relationship with a business, so she always brought them herbs, and gardenias to plant at home (they were the husband’s favorite). She takes their fliers and posts them up in high traffic areas too, and when they have their business cards made and an extra hundred or so, she slips them in the paper baggies that she gathers her customer’s things in before sending them on their way.

Niall was grateful. He did a little cheer, left his spot from behind the counter, and urged her to follow him to the back where the break room was located (if a customer came around he would hear the bell and duck his head out to greet them, but for the most part their Tuesdays were pretty uneventful). He told her he had sensed her coming so he already had two stools set out for them to sit on, and napkins placed in the middle of the table, but she’s almost a hundred percent sure they had been left like that last time she was here.

Try as she might to let her mind flee from the dark, hazed feeling that had overcome her last week, she couldn’t. Even as she listened to Niall prattle about some Gibson Les Paul custom that the owner purchased a while back, she struggled not to wonder what it was that was worming itself into her brain; slick tendrils of dismay overcame her. The true, unadulterated, execrable feeling only truly hits her in the night if she is outside the safety of her home or her shop, but otherwise, it was memories of this haunting aura that struck her throughout the day.

She couldn’t place her finger on it though, what it could be. There are feelings she garners when Harry summons certain spirits, but she can typically tell when he’s doing that, and they’ve never felt so. . .evil, before. What Harry deals with is evil, sure, but this was so smothered in turpitude that she couldn’t make it out. Like spilling black ink over a letter written in blue.

That’s why she asks Niall -- it feels too strong for it to be something only felt by her and Harry. It would also soothe her mind if someone had felt it as horribly and heavily as she did, considering it wasn’t affecting Harry enough that he would try to banish the damn thing before things went sour.

“Like, do things just not feel. . .off, to you?” She didn’t want to feed him any impressions of what she might be speaking about -- she would like to know if it were true to him. Niall is sweet as he could be, but not always when it was appropriate; he would tell her he did just to spare her from feeling foolish. It’s why she thought berets were her thing for about a month when really she looked like a washed-up indie artist trying too hard (Niall had agreed they weren’t her best fashion venture, but he certainly didn’t think they were that bad).

His face contorts in a pout as he mulls it over in his head, stabbing his fork into the noodles and catching a bit of pork on two of the pronks, “Hm, let’s see. . .” he looks like he’s spinning through a Rolodex, “I have not for the life of me mustered enough energy to have a wank in about a week, that’s some cause for concern,” when she responds with a blank stare, he holds his hands up, “Okay, fine -- Butternut was biting at the air when I took him on his walk the other night -- like. . .chomping at it, I was actually gonna ask you what that might be about.”

Now, don’t get Y/N wrong, any other time Niall would have told her that his great Pyrenees puppy was yapping and chomping at the wind, she would have brushed it off. “Niall, you’re just going to have to accept that he’s going to be a big, sweet dummy when he’s older.” But she was so desperate for something, anything -- because if something felt it other than she and Harry, then she wouldn’t feel quite as crazy.

“Sometimes it feels a bit like something’s watching me,” he tacks on at the end, taking the brown napkin from the stack in between them and dabs roughly at his mouth, “At night, when I’m walking Butternut, I get these chills but there’s no wind around.”

Y/N leans forward, thankful, “Yeah?” she presses, “Is it like -- describe it. What does it feel like?”

“Y’know, I do forget you’re a witch until times like these,” he leans back in his chair, a heavy sigh slides from his lips before he closes his eyes like he’s trying to place himself back at the moment, “I’ll tell ya what, it’s fuckin’ -- it’s a bit like I feel it right down to my bones, but then --” he opens his eyes, raises his closed fists and flicks his fingers out at her, “Poof, s’gone as quick as it came and I forget about it. My nan used to tell me that was the devil patting your shoulder, but if it went away quick s’because an angel kicked his arse out of there.”

It’s enough, Y/N decides, so she nods and relaxes back in her seat, “Okay, good.”

“Good?” His brows furrow, as he reaches for his can of soda and the aluminum can crinkles beneath his fingers, “Tell you that I get chills and you’re relieved? Should I be relieved too, or worried?”

“It isn’t anything to concern over, I don’t think,” she explains to him, “If anything changes I’ll let you know.”

Niall uses one of his fingernails to dig the dirt from beneath the other, “Did that Harry bloke muster some horrible demon up again?” His voice is laced with vexation. Niall wasn’t a hard guy to get along with -- he was loud and Irish, could chat up a storm about anything and everything, and while he could be scrappy at times, it was for all the right reasons. He was equanimous in most situations, even-tempered to a fair degree; if Y/N were in a situation where a cool, calm collected head would be the best approach then Niall was definitely the person she wanted on her side.

(Like when they had to drive home from a day trip to the massive lake just north of them, but the roads hadn’t been pretreated for the icy sleet that gripped the pavement. He drove them the whole way on the windy roads with little traction from the tires to the road, and was still bobbing his head and singing along to Ed Sheeran on the radio).

But Harry Styles? Oh, the mention of his name could dig right beneath Niall’s skin. Y/N would like to think that it was because he was so cruel to her, but she knows that there are two main reasons Niall is not too fond of him nor his craft. One of which is the fact that he slept with Liana (she happened to be one of Niall’s flings at the time -- there were plenty, but Y/N only remembered this one’s name because she shared it with a woody stem rooted to the forest soil that made for easy climbing), and the other, the fact that he had helped the captain of the opposing summer footie team with one of his enchantments to make them win. There are few things Niall cares for so deeply that he would dislike someone, but his sex life and his footie were two things a person just couldn’t mess up for him.

“No, it wasn’t him this time,” she clears her throat, pushing the rest of her ramen around idly, “It’s a bit too strong to be his doing -- more sinister too. He conjures mostly petty demons; the little ones that don’t have much better to do anyway. This is something. . .I don’t know, it just feels different.”

Niall sighs heavily, “Well, thanks for that, reckon I won’t be sleeping tonight,” he pushes the container away from himself to signify he’s done and when she takes a peek inside and sees nothing but a few noodles limp along the sides, “I like that you keep me in the loop, but sometimes I wish you would let me live in ignorance.”

“You know, I would apologize, but you’ve gone into an in-depth description of your arsehole to me so I thought any boundaries and forms of secrecy were long gone by now.”

His brows furrow features contorting into that of the same desperation he had come to her with two months ago, “Ugh, c’mon! You’re practically like a witch doctor or somethin’, I thought you would have a cream or something for it.”

“You had a hemorrhoid, Niall, for fuck sake! Even if I were a “witch doctor” then I would never let you put anything that came from my plants on your filthy bum.”

Niall stands, gathering their trash from the break room table but using his free hand as he passes her, he swats her shoulder, “You better be nice to me, or you’re gonna have to start eating lunch with Styles.” He steps on the level for the waste bin, throwing the trash in the bag, “Though I think you two would just end up hate fucking and the food would go cold.”

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “I would never let that Gremlin near my naked body.”

“Listen, I’m not saying I want the guy anywhere near your naked body,” he plops back down in his seat, “What I am saying is that you lot have such unbridled sexual tension it is practically palpable when I’m at the shop with the both of you. Maybe it’s ‘cos the two of you are the only witches, and opposites at that.”

Y/N snorts, “Maybe if we were in some enemies to lovers film, sure.”

After they finish their break, and Y/N realizes that she’s been with him for a little over an hour, they make plans to meet up tomorrow for a movie and she heads out. The air was cool -- when she had made her way over here the sun had been glittering rays down that bathed the world in gold, but it was now hidden beneath an overcast of thick clouds. Rain always carried a familiar scent just before it started to pour and Y/N had forgone a jacket, so she huffed her way back, breathless by the time she made it up the hill and saw Harry leaning against her door.

The sight of him makes her exhausted, but not in the usual way it does. He looks awful -- and typically he doesn’t! Y/N could admit that Harry was gorgeous; his hair always appeared soft, loose curls dispersed along the brunette strands, his eyes are a sea green, tender in his gaze when he wasn’t being an absolute prick and always bright (even when he was). His lips were pink, shaped perfectly, and his skin is typically smooth but even when he grows out his facial hair it still manages to look good. He had dimples. . .hell, Y/N would place a bet that he’d made a deal with the devil to look like that.

But today, he just looked worn down, and exhausted, like he might not have slept the entire weekend. His eyes were closed, his hands were in his pockets and his chin was tilted down towards his chest. If not for the way his head perked up immediately when her foot crunched into the gravel pathway leading up to her store from the small parking area (that was more so a beaten down, once grassy area now just dirt with tire tracks in it), she would have thought he was asleep standing up. There’s relief in his eyes when they meet her own, which she isn’t used to seeing from him, “Thank fuck.”

“You look horrible,” Y/N slides her hand into her pocket, pulling out her keys so she could unlock the door, “Budge over.”

“I feel it,” he rubs tiredly at his eyes, “Go on and open up quickly then. Why the hell do you keep your store closed on weekends?”

Y/N fits her hand over the knob, twisting it and shoving the door open with her shoulder. Thumper greets them at the door, nudging the top of his head against her ankle, “Do you work every night?”

“No --”

“I keep it closed on weekends for the same reason why you don’t work every night,” she heads toward the counter, settling her things down and reaching in for Thumper’s hay stash so that she could give him some, “What’re you here for? You usually come around to bother me later.” She chances petting at Thumper’s head for a moment, and since he was preoccupied with his hay he would allow it.

“Fuck!” Y/N startles, popping up from behind the counter, looking back up only to see Harry with wide, disgruntled eyes, “Where’s your chamomile?”

Her brows dip, “I’m out right now, so --”

“How the hell did you run out? Shit, what am I going to do now, hm? Shouldn’t you keep up with shite like this?” He’s going a mile a minute, he’s walking closer to her, distress was written all over his face and Y/N is alarmed to a fair degree -- Harry’s always seemed very collected and calm, it was seldom she ever seen him have more emotion than pure elation to fuck with her or displeased with her presence.

“ -- so I’m going to make more today. What’s going on with you? Why are you so pissy over it?” She finishes her previous thought, watching as he leans against the counter, propping his face up with his hand and she could now more clearly make out the bags beneath his eyes.

He rubs at his temple with the finger closest to it, “The only way I can sleep is with your bloody tea,” he grumbled, “That’s why I come around all the time -- well, that and to fuck with you, but mostly the tea.”

“Oh?” She reaches down, plucking Thumper from where he’d been positioned by her feet and setting him on the counter. He thumps his foot at her once but eventually makes his way over to Harry, sniffing at his chin before resting right before him. Y/N wasn’t necessarily doing it to be nice, but the energy he was exuding could really dampen the growth rate of her plants, and Thumper had a soothing way about him that drew all that negativity out. It was one of those odd little familiar powers that went unexplained for the most part. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged his shoulders, but the tension in them begins to dissipate as Thumper snuggles beneath his chin, “Reckon I pissed off some demon or summat -- usually it isn’t this bad. Without your tea, I can at least get to bed for three hours before waking up and catch cat naps during the day, but nothing was working this weekend. I think I’ve slept a total of two hours?”

“Christ,” she tuts her tongue, but her brain starts churning, “Do you think it has anything to do with that. . .with that thing, that’s around? That feeling?”

Harry huffs a sigh, “Fuck, here you go again -- Babe, listen, I can barely keep a coherent thought, so why don’t I just give you some money and you make that tea for me, alright?”

“That’s no way to ask,” Y/N chastises him, and though she is already beginning to gather the supplies she needs so she could go out and harvest her leaves, she taunts him, “You’ll have to say please, or I might just decide to wait on this batch.”

“Please,” he wastes no time in saying, “Pretty please harvest the chamomile so that I can sleep and I promise I’ll sit and theorize with you over whatever the fuck thing you’re feeling.”

Y/N could go through the trouble of doing a blood binding with him to ensure that he wasn’t lying to her, but she felt that was a little on the extreme side so she took his word for it. She could easily harvest her chamomile here at the shop -- she had two doors behind the counter, one that led to her garden, the field, and the forest outside while the other led to a backroom that was made into a little kitchen area. It was easier for her to do things here rather than at home and have to risk tainting them in transport; for the best results to any enchanted item, one has to seal it immediately and it should only be reopened prior to use.

She wouldn’t allow Harry to hover over her while she worked, so she sat him behind the counter and told him to not speak to any customers if they come through (“Wasn’t planning to,”) while she went to work. Y/N gave Thumper a look when he had started to follow her, and with a small thump of his foot (his way of saying Fine!) he hops himself into Harry’s lap and settles there. The tension once again eases from Harry’s features, soothing the pinch in his brow and the way his lips had been pursed in a frown.

It was silent as she set to work, and save for a few customers who filtered in and out (at least a dozen of them, only eight purchased something but her Mondays were always pretty slow so that was expected), there wasn’t much to disturb what appeared to be a dozing Harry. He looked much more peaceful than she’s ever seen him, and for a brief moment she contemplates sending Thumper back home with him, but she shakes her head physically as if to expel the thought from her brain. What was she going on about? She would give him his tea and send the heathen on his way. No matter how empathetic she felt for him (she had struggled with issues sleeping when she was a lot younger), there was no need to go out of her way. . .even if she could admit that the sight of him cuddling with a bunny was a little too sweet not to be documented somewhere.

She’s finished drying the leaves and carefully stirring them in the fine powder that she still had leftover from her last batch (there were many flowers from her garden ground up and enchanted with an incantation, which sounds like a simple enough task but the entire process took a little over a week -- the magic had to be purified several times, and the potential adverse effects had to be mollified. . . if she didn’t, instead of pleasant dreams of floating in clouds, her customers would be in an unsolicited astral projection) in a little over an hour. Y/N takes care to bag them delicately, adding a little extra in the two bags she would be giving Harry so that he would bother her less over it.

By the time she’s retreated from the back preparation room, she finds that Harry is awake now, eyeballing her Intimacy and Romance section. When he sees that she’s returned to the front, he holds up the small, cardboard parcel, “I didn’t know you doubled as a Pulse and Cocktails.”

“That’s a natural aphrodisiac,” she tells him, walking over to her empty chamomile shelf before she begins to fill it, “You might want to take some so your partners will actually desire you for once.”

“Oh, Honey,” he shakes his head, a look on his face almost like he pities her, “Don’ know a thing about how people desire me. Barely have to take my cock out for them to be gagging for it -- kind of how you are, but won’t admit it to yourself.”

Y/N kisses her teeth, “Alright lecher, come and get your chamomile then,” she plucks the two remaining bags from the box she brought them in and holds them out for him, “You should look into some spells to combat that though -- if a demon is purloining your sleep, then it’s probably still hanging around and like deluging your flat with negative energy.”

“Dunno’ if you know this, but I work with demons often, I’m always surrounded by negative energy,” he plucks the chamomile from her grasp, before reaching in his pocket and producing a small wad of cash that he places in her palm-- Y/N opens her mouth to decline it (she felt that his money was earned in a dishonest way and would not accept it for her flowers, because it felt as if she were disrespecting them. . .she would much rather give it to him for free), but he cuts her off, “Oh, hush and take the money. This is from a care package my Nan sent me, so it wasn’t earned in any rotten way, you spoiled brat.”

She sighs, clutching the money in her hands, “You still better keep your end of the deal,” Y/N tells him, “I want to talk about this. . .whatever that feeling is, around here lately. And I want you to be serious about it!”

Harry was already retreating, waving his hand up at her, “Yeah, sure thing, I’ll have my secretary get in contact with you --”

“Harry --”

“M’only joking. I’ll come around Friday.”

. . .

Later that night, with Thumper snuggled in her lap snoozing, Y/N looks into purging a home of sleep stealing spirits.

She’s only curious.

. . .

Sleep comes gradually, then all at once, like the shift between summer and fall.

Wind whistles past window sills singing shallow songs of change, while red apples ripen on their branches in the orchard during harvest season. The air grows colder in the mornings and at night, the day is still steeped in the sun’s benevolent kisses of heat at first until even that begins to wane. An aesthetic of reds, oranges, forest greens and golden hues occupy the minds of many as the leaves start to stain with color. Everyone waits with bated breath for true autumn to come around the corner.

And when it does, it’s with a cold slap of air against the face when they step outside. The air carries that distinct autumn smell, the world is chilly enough for thicker jackets and long socks, rain comes in sheets during the evenings, and the colorful leaves that had drooped from the trees adhere to the concrete, or in matted piles on the forest floor. Suddenly, the warm drink in everyone’s hand is a little less for the excitement and impatience for fall to begin, and more so to warm their cold palms from the onslaught of biting wind.

It isn’t autumn, and then it is -- just like sleep. Harry’s awake one minute, and then he’s passed right out.

Well, with Y/N’s help, bless her. Sure, she had been rotten before, but she made him a new batch and sent him off with two hearty bags full of tea that would soothe his worries and put his arse to bed. Plus, he had cuddled with her sweet little bunny Thumper for a while and he had a feeling the little bugger was exuding some sort of her soft magic unto him in the form of calming waves. When the rabbit sat in his lap, all the tension eased from his muscles and he sank into an otherwise uncomfortable chair like it was the softest mattress he’d ever been privy to. So by the time he came home, started the kettle, drank a mug full, and hot tailed it to his bed, he was asleep before his head could even quite hit the pillow.

It was so good. His dreams were pleasant, his sleep was heavy, and deep, and lasted around fifteen hours -- which in the grand scheme of things, made him feel a bit like a sloth, but he knew he needed it. He still couldn’t quite pinpoint what had happened that he just couldn’t sleep even a little bit, but he has no interest in investigating now that he had a full night’s (and partially day’s) rest. Plus, there was no time to do any exploring when he needed to make up for the work he’d missed in his time exhausted -- his powers are nowhere near as strong if he is tired, and it’s incredibly dangerous to be working with little sleep. He could mess up, and a mess-up could mean someone would likely end up possessed and -- albeit how interesting they are -- Harry’s intrigue with exorcisms ended after the seventh one he performed.

After he woke up, showered off, and ate brekkie, he sat down with his kitten and they cleaned his crystals and a few amulets before he set on preparing some of his finer elixirs, that he always waited until he was down to the last drop to begin making more canisters of considering how extensive the process was. It would be easier if he had someone else to help out, but the only other witch within 160 kilometers of him, he wouldn’t label as the type all too willing to help him break into a blood bank.

But he did have his kitten Oat. He was his little miracle -- Harry had been so sad when he learned that witches could have familiars, but the animal would come to him and he was supposed to just know. At that point, he’d been practicing for three years and the only feelings he could sense from any animal around him were fear and disdain, so he had thought that maybe he just wasn’t meant to have one. Which felt horrible. . .he loved animals.

One day, when the chill in the air rosied his cheeks and the cardigan he sported did little to shield him from the cold, he was taking a walk in the forest nearby. He’d left the trail, but not because he was working. . .if he were honest, he thought that the garden that Y/N kept out there was quite magnificent. It flourished even in the winter, a meadow of flowers that’s petals never frost, and the ground never grew hard. There was an air around it that made him feel warm and pleasant, so he visited often without letting her know. Which was what he was doing, walking through the small path that she had created so that she could tend to them (he’d seen her water them once when he’d come unknowing that she was there to cater to them).

And one moment he was looking at what he believed to be an oat grass, he heard a rustle from the bushes to his left that he looked toward (it was a bird flying away), and when his gaze returned to where it had once been, there a small kitten was laying. She was the kind of small that made his heart ache, with her eyes barely open as she yawned and stretched very wide -- she wasn’t there, and then she was. Harry always liked to say she was born from the soft soil of Y/N’s garden which was why her grey fur felt like clouds and she always smelled sweet as heliotrope. . .and, well, she smelled a lot like Y/N too. He may not be all too fond of the girl, but she did always smell nice.

She hadn’t grown bigger than one of his boots, the tiny little thing, but not because she was malnourished in any way (Harry always made sure she was well-fed), he just thinks she’s finished growing. He couldn’t tell her breed, but if he had to guess she was some mix between a munchkin and a ragamuffin cat. Harry knows all familiars have their duties and special abilities, but he wasn’t quite sure what hers was -- he just knew that he loved her to bits and pieces, and couldn’t ask for a better little ball of fur to sit on his shoulder while he made coffee in the morning.

What Harry did know, was that none of the demon’s he had ever conjured had ever bothered her, and she loved to be rubbed behind her ears.

So Thursday night, when the town grew quiet and the air was still, Harry ventured out with his tote bag slung over his shoulder. It was easy to move about relatively unseen in a place like this, that wasn’t so big there were people constantly looming around the corners of every nook and cranny, but wasn’t so small that everybody knew everyone’s business. It was a pleasant in between, where he could snake through the mouth of the forest, walk a trail and end up on the other side of town without having been seen by more than a few critters. He typically made this journey relatively late, without a worry or stressor in sight -- it only took him about an hour and a half to get everything done.

Today though -- today, he felt off. It hadn’t been immediately when he’d stepped outside, but after some time in his walk, goosebumps prickled his skin and the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. He couldn’t quite decipher what was making him feel like this when the wind hadn’t rustled the trees in a few minutes, but it put him on guard. He disliked the feeling and had only truly sensed it to this degree that night Y/N had originally questioned him about it. It was an unsavory sensation, and for it to even make him feel uneasy was saying something tremendous.

He attempts to ignore it, even though it only grew stronger the closer he was to his destination. He weaves through the trees, stepping over the thick roots, crunching over fallen leaves, and appreciating the scent of autumn as he goes. It was a nice night, despite the chill that ran just beneath his skin. . .it was the kind of night that he might go out on his balcony and sip on his tea until he grew weary enough to step inside. Oat liked to sit outside with him, curled peacefully in his lap and resting without a care in the world (she made him feel not so lonely all the time, which he appreciated immensely).

Harry was thinking about how that was precisely what he was going to do as soon as he returned home after he had emerged from the trees and walked through an expansive field, toward an old road that led him back into town and entered the blood bank (after melting the lock with one of his crystals). Though he sensed something strong when he was walking down the cold, dark hall. . .or someone that is, who -- before he could register their presence -- ran straight into him as they were peeling around the corner and nearly knocked him on his arse (but definitely knocked them on theirs).

“Fuck sake!” He cried out, steadying himself, looking down at the assailant, “Watch where you’re going, mate, or you’ll -- oh, Y/N?” He pauses, confusion laces through his brain as he recognizes her, “What’re you doing here so late?”

Y/N was on her bum, scowling at him as she gathered herself before flattening her palms to the cold, white tiled floor and pressing up to a stand, “I could ask you the same question.”

“It would be a silly one if you did, ‘cos you and I both know what I’m doing for a living,” he watches as she swipes her bum of the dust adhering to her sweatpants -- he had never seen her so dressed down before, in a dark-colored hoodie that just about swallowed her whole. She appeared much less ferocious this way -- not that she appeared very ferocious before, but he is always intrigued to see typically put together people in their sleep clothes. . .he thinks it says a lot about a person. From Y/N’s choice of pajamas, he could tell that she probably kept her flat on the side of too cold because she liked to bundle up. . .she felt safe that way, he would guess, and he would bet 50 quid that there was bunny hair all over it because -- despite his grumpy tendencies -- Thumper loved a good cuddle.

“I felt it again,” she says after a moment, her voice only above a whisper, though there was no security here -- or anyone, for that matter since the place closes at 7 PM, but her eyes still shift around like she’s a high schooler ditching class and the headmaster's down the hall, “. . .that thing, y’know, while I was getting ready for bed, so I followed where it felt grossest and came to check it out to see if it led me anywhere.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, “Well that was stupid,” he derides her, fixing the tote around his shoulder and shifting weight from one heel to the other, “What were you going to do if you found something, hm? Fight it off with your bunny and rose petals?”

Her scowl returns, “Piss off,” she utters before her gaze flickers to his tote and the reason he’s here becomes clearer to her than it had been before, “You shouldn’t be stealing blood. Isn’t that unethical?”

“It’s either this or siphoning it from a live vein, Babe, and while I’m aces at plenty of things, I have not been properly trained to set up an IV. I only take the blood that’s about to expire anyway,” He nods down the hallway, toward the refrigeration where they kept all of the baggies, “You might as well continue investigating while we’re here because it’s coming from that way -- plus you can make yourself useful by keeping the door propped open for me.”

In all honesty, Harry expects more fight than he was given considering how often she seems to object to every move he makes, but she merely rolls her eyes and starts ahead of him. The feeling does grow stronger the further they descend into the hallway and he knows Y/N can feel it too, from the way she shuffles just a little closer to him, and he can hear her breathing hitch to a small halt as they stood before the door and it felt like it had all been focused just behind the door. As strong as the taste of frozen orange juice concentrate, it made his face pucker just slightly as he raised his fingers toward the keypad and began punching in the code.

And there’s nothing.

Actually, as soon as they open the door, the dark, odious feeling that had been encompassing both of them disappears entirely. “Whoa,” Y/N pushes her hand against the door and keeps it open, taking one step inside of the room, “There’s a lot of blood in here.” His gaze flickers back at her, as she looks around, looking more intrigued than disgusted -- there was a lot of blood, 8 by 5-meter room just filled with it, so he could understand some of the awe. The more he returns, the less awe he feels, but he reckons that was to be expected.

“There are about five other refrigerators in this building too,” he tells her as he lowers to his knees, cracking open his tote, “This one’s computers are easier to get into though, and doesn’t say the date and time the amount was changed so nobody knows anything is missing. Easy peasy.”

Y/N nods, “Right. Stealing blood -- easy peasy,” she leans against the door, “What is it that you use it for?”

“It really depends,” he murmurs as he pulls out a rack, counting out the baggies he needed, “Some demons like blood more than ash, so they come when called and are more willing to help you out when given a little gift. There are a few spells that call for it, and elixirs are twice as potent — sometimes I have to drink it, which is...unpleasant,” he hears her shiver, “—but it makes the outcome better. All in a day's work.”

“Oh wow,” Y/N hummed, “That’s...different. I think the weirdest thing I’ve had to drink for a spell was doe milk and I felt guilty the whole time. Like I was taking it from a fawn that needed it.”

Harry huffed out a laugh — Y/N was a soft little thing, comparing drinking blood to milk — sometimes he forgets how sheltered her world of magic is compared to his own. It was easy to forget with all the spiteful words she could throw his way, but to see her out of her comfort zone. . .it’s refreshing. Not because she is less confident in her surroundings, but because she is more open to his own If someone would have told Harry they would be even remotely civil with one another in a room full of blood, he would have snorted before asking what they were snorting.

“I oughta call you Bambi then.”

He was on his last baggy of blood, checking the expiration date, and logging it into the computer when the dreadful feeling returned. Like a fly to rotting meat, it clings back to the room they were in tenfold. From behind him, a sharp clatter and Y/N’s squeal startles him to look back at her, “Harry!” She cried, pointing ahead of her, “The walls! L-look at the walls!”

Harry follows her finger, watching as a thick, black substance oozes from the wall’s coving. When Y/N had noticed as much, she knocked down a stray IV pole that had been left in here, and it lay at her feet where the same black ooze had begun seeping up from the trim of the floors. In all his time doing what he does, Harry had never seen something so odd, nor had he ever felt something this grotesque overcome his being. It makes him act quickly, and while he doesn’t speak, he does fix his tote over his shoulder and practically jog the short distance to Y/N, knocking her out of the room, grabbing the door by the handle, and swinging it shut. He had hoped to seal it in there, whatever it was, but when they look down at the floor, the goo bleeds beneath the door and they both take a startled step back, “Oh fuck me,” Harry mutters to himself, shaking his head.

“What the hell is this?” Y/N is panicked -- it’s very clear in her voice, and while Harry was a tad thankful not to be dealing with this alone, he can’t say that a soft which, who planted pretty flowers and made sleepy time tea was necessarily the backing he wanted in the event he had to exorcise a demon. He didn’t even have the proper tools for it. . .he didn’t know what he was exorcising, fuck sake -- “Harry, shouldn’t we --”

“We need to leave,” he states, pivoting on his heel and hustling down the hall, Y/N was quick to scurry behind him, though she still murmurs some protest.

“We shouldn’t just --”

“Listen, unless you have any idea what that is and how to clean it, let alone banish it to hell, I saw we have a better chance through those doors than we do staying in here for even a second more,” he told her, holding out his hands to the crash bar, shoving the heavy door open, only looking back to make sure that Y/N had made it through, seeing that the black ooze had been following them before he promptly slammed the door shut.

This was one of the back doors, so it spits them out to the graveled employee parking lot that dances along one of the many mouths of the forest that surrounded them. They’re both out of breath, adrenalin zipping through their veins in a tidal wave as their chests heave and they stare at the door. They wait for it to crawl beneath these doors. . .they wait for the building to either be overcome by sludge or combust from whatever sinister being had decided to preoccupy this space.

But nothing happens.

The wind picks up, the leaves rustle against the branches, and as if it were a gift from the Earth, the sordid feeling blew right away with it.

“What the hell was that?” Y/N asks for the second time.

Harry straightens out from where he’d been crouched, inhaling the cool air, appreciative to be in it.

“Do you think for a second, with my reaction, that I have any fucking clue?”

. . .

Y/N doesn’t have people at her flat often.

Actually, apart from Niall and a few maintenance men, nobody had ever really come over. Not for any particular reason, really, and not because she didn’t want them to necessarily -- the opportunity just rarely arose, or more so, she didn’t often allow it to. If she were going to meet someone then she would meet them somewhere else, and they would part ways after they were finished (again, apart from Niall, who would simply follow her home, kick his trainers off, and head toward her couch which he had told her was simply the comfiest he’d ever been on). Her home was her humble abode. . .it was where she came to destress after a long day, and where Thumper sometimes waited for her debating whether or not he wanted to nibble her bathroom rug to shreds.

Not to mention she had plants growing here too, and flowers that she held dear to her, and while people are more reluctant to go touching what isn’t their business at a store, they are much less disinclined to give that same respect to her plants. Once Y/N had a maintenance man over to fix her faucet and she’d walked out from her room to see that he was caressing her snake plant’s leaves. She couldn’t blame him -- the plant had a very encompassing presence about it and had a way of drawing people in if they weren’t careful. . .hypnotized by the way it made them feel. All of Y/N’s soil and seeds are charmed with special incantations and concoctions that took her years to perfect, she would be disappointed if they weren’t causing people to leave all semblance of professionalism to even for a moment feel as if they were in a room with such clear air, their lungs felt renewed and they deemed it necessary to get closer.

But then she had to apologize to her snake plant for nearly two days after! It had been so upset with her, she could feel it, so she started being even more careful about who she let in. If she was going to go out of her way to have someone over, then there was a good reason for it. . .or it was Niall.

And a demonic, gooey substance sweating from the walls of a blood bank, was well enough a good reason to have Harry over.

It took some coaxing on her part -- he was convinced that they needed to just go back to their respective flats and go to bed, but Y/N was adamant in vetoing the idea. “We’re supposed to talk tomorrow anyway, so we might as well just go ahead and do it tonight -- and you are not leaving me alone after whatever the fuck that was!”

After a good ten minutes, he finally relented as long as they could stop by his flat so he could get his kitten. Y/N hadn’t known that he had a kitten and thought maybe he would bring out some ragged-looking thing, but she was surprised to see through her windshield window that Harry was approaching her car with a small grey kitten. Her face contorts in the way everyone’s face might when they see something small and cute, “Look at her,” she coos once Harry opens his door, “What’s her name?”

“This is Oat,” he answered, holding her out for Y/N to pet, “Be careful, she’s vicious.”

Y/N pet at her head and Oat’s eyes shut as she nuzzled into her palm, “Oh yeah, what a panther.”

Apart from the nerves that had already materialized from what they had seen in the blood bank, she was a little worried about inviting him into her home. When she visualized her safe space, Harry was not typically who she saw sitting on her couch when she came in from the kitchen, holding mugs of warm tea. Yet there he was, introducing Thumper and Oat to one another (who merely sniffed each other, then immediately cozied against her olive throw blanket on the end of the couch), and Y/N is handing him his steamy mug.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, immediately nursing the mug between his palms and lifting it up to his mouth for a small sip -- the steam disperses around his face in plumes, “And it wouldn’t make sense for. . .for whatever that is to just be a demon.”

“What?” She inquires, taking her seat beside him on the couch, her body twisted so she was facing him entirely. Y/N had adjusted the temperature to something that would be a bit more suited toward having a guest -- when she’s alone, she keeps it ungodly cold so she has an excuse to bundle up in her clothes and blankets. There’s nothing like feeling safe in a cocoon of various fabrics with Buffy the Vampire Slayer on the telly.

Harry strategically places the mug between his knitted socked feet, steadying it there as he begins to play with the thick, brassy tiger ring on his index finger, “Demons are strong, sure, but if they’re gonna be that strong there’s typically two reasons for it: they have already inhabited that area, or someone is controlling them behind the scenes. I would be more inclined to believe the prior, but I’ve been going to this blood blank for about a year now and unless there were some pentagrams I’ve missed or a gruesome ordeal that never made the papers in the past two weeks -- then there’s no reason for that to have happened at the hands of a spirit. Even a blood demon isn’t strong enough to make what happened in there happen, and they literally feed off the substance in the room.”

“So you think someone summoned it or something? I thought you were the only one around here that did that?” Y/N probes, trying to look in his eyes but she keeps getting distracted by his rings -- how many did he have? She thinks he nearly has one on each finger, and he’s plucking them off and placing them on different knuckles as he speaks. Y/N wonders if it’s something he does in response to a stressor, like how she picks at her nails.

“I’m the only witch that summons things around here, but not even I could conjure something that feels that vile.” He explained, fitting the last ring against his knuckle before he pops the bones in his fingers, and Y/N watches as the skin stretches and moves around the muscles in his hands, “I think someone is trying to manifest something without the proper safeguards in place. . .the lack of protection charms, crystals, and spells can invite much more heinous creatures to the living world. They feed off shite like that -- naivety. . .thinking that any person could decide they’ll have a demon carry out a job for them. It’s easier for them to take advantage of them that way.” Harry exhales, running the pad of his thumb around the rim of the mug— she’s given him the one that has intricate, realistic drawings of beluga whales on it, not for any other reason apart from that one was her favorite and she liked to see it in use, “And with a full moon coming up? Recipe for disaster.”

“Oh shit,” Y/N holds her tea closer to her being, “That’s why the feeling is so profuse and disagreeable in the air then, ‘cos they aren’t containing it right? When I was looking into a little bit of what you do, I read that there are containment spells so the demon or spirit doesn’t have free range to do as it pleases, but the spell is dependent on the demon in question and the severity of its power.”

Harry looked pleasantly surprised, “Yeah, that’s right -- what’re ya looking up what I’m doing for?” He settles into her couch, “Have you got a crush on me or summat?”

If Y/N rolled her eyes any further back, she thinks they would have done a 360 in her eye sockets, “I fell down a rabbit hole the other night when I was trying to figure out why you couldn’t sleep,” an impish grin slides onto his mouth, “And not because I’m “in love with you” -- I just thought it would be interesting to know if your insomnia was the reason of a demon because that would mean one of my items combats against that and wins. My. . .most of my magic is based on prevention when it comes to dark things like that, not really to fight what’s already there.”

“So your flowers don’t like -- I dunno, Little Shop of Horrors it?” He teases, motioning to her Hoya plant that had just begun to bloom for her, “I reckon when I think of plant magic, I think of you snapping your fingers and thorned ivy whipping around to slow assailants.”

“No, none of that,” she laughs lightly, shaking her head, “They’re much too nice and gentle. . .they only want to help. And I’m rarely in a situation where I would need thorned ivy whipping around.” Y/N locks eyes with Oat for a moment, whose eyes close nice and slow before she reopens them and Y/N thinks she might just melt, “What do we do then? How do we stop it?”

He slides a ring with teddy bears from his pinky and spins it between his forefinger and thumb, “There’s nothing to do -- if we don’t know who the problem is, then we can’t fix anything.” Harry shrugs his shoulders, and the action makes his already loose cardigan slide down his arms, revealing more of the cream-colored shirt he wore with Smokey the Bear on the front reading Only YOU! can prevent forest fires, “All we can do is wait for the next fucked feeling and hopefully run into the person causing -- oh,” Harry pauses, motioning toward her, “You’ve got a new friend.”

Y/N’s confused, brows knitted until she feels a paw press against her shoulder and the telltale purr of a happy kitty. When she turns her head, she finds that Oat has snuck her way up to her, and is now attempting to perch on Y/N’s shoulder. She presses closer to the back of the couch so that she had a better footing, and in return Oat bumps at her cheek with the top of her head, “You’re so cute, stop it,” she murmurs, and when she takes a breath through her nose, she smiles, “She smells like my heliotrope flowers too! How are you the familiar of such a grumpy, cruel lug, huh?”

“Oi,” Harry mutters, “I resent that. I’m not grumpy or cruel, you’re just rotten.”

A retort plays at Y/N’s mouth but her phone screen lights up from where it’s sat on the coffee table and strays her attention. She’s confused -- the only person who would be messaging her this late was Niall but she’s almost a hundred percent certain that he was supposed to be out at the bar tonight. It is him though.

Fuck me, have ya looked at the news? Is this that thing we were talkin bout?

Harry is a nosy bugger, and after reading the message with her he reaches for her remote, “You told him about it?” He turns on her telly, quick to open her TV guide, “So he knows about you?”

“Yeah, he knows -- turn to 3,” she tells him, and soon enough the local news is playing out, big bold letters on the blue band stretched across the bottom of the screen.

MAN TO BE CHARGED WITH ATTEMPTED MURDER ON GIRLFRIEND

He turned the volume up, so they could hear the news reporter who was on site. There was yellow caution tape stripped around a house, police lights, cops walking around in the back, and frightened neighbors who had left the comfort of their homes to investigate what was happening. The woman on screen had long blonde hair that whipped when the wind blew and muffled her microphone feed, her face set stony as she recounted the events as the police had told her, “. . .has no recollection of the event, and is claiming the “walls” were dripping in blood and demanding that he do it. Jacobs is being taken in for further questioning and pending a psychiatric evaluation -- his girlfriend Amanda Wilson is being rushed to hospital that’s all anyone knows right now. Back to you Tom...”

“Oh, fuck sake,” Harry groaned, shaking his head, “Now this is a problem, problem innit?”

“Was it not before?” Y/N takes the remote from him, turning the volume down, “Do you -- does that sound like anything you’ve dealt with? That would try hurting someone like that?”

He presses his knuckles to his eyes, sighing, “Not that I remember -- I’ll have to do some digging. . .this is bollocks, you know how bad this is for business? Nobody wants to mess with dark magic when shit like this is going on.”

“Aish, don’t think so selfishly. People are in danger,” she tsks at him, “And we’ll need to -- what are you doing?” She asks as he removes his feet from where they had been on the couch, reaching down for his loafers like he was about to put them on.

“S’getting late,” he responded, “I was g’na head home --”

“No you’re not,” she told him, her face dropping in borderline disgust as he seemed genuinely confused with her, his face twisting, “We experience something like that, then see the news, and you not only want to separate, but you want to walk all the way home, alone, in the dark? No way, that’s too stupid, you’re staying here.”

Harry’s brows dipped in, irritated, however, he did stop reaching for his loafers, “But --”

“Listen, we may not be fond of each other but I’m not letting you put yourself in danger,” she tells him, before adding quickly, “And you are fucking not going to leave me alone after that! Are you mad?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I’d be doing you a favor without bothering ya with my presence. Never thought Miss. Good Witch of the North would want me breathing her air for too long.” He ripostes and it reinvigorates any distaste for Harry that had been easing throughout the night the more they spoke. He always did that -- always made her feel like she was some stuck up prick who never gave him a chance, but she would have if he hadn’t started out being such an arse to her. Sure, the circumstances they had met under weren’t fantastic. . .she snapped at him for taking her flowers without asking, but he could have just apologized -- could have said sorry, and they could have started over but he was immediately put off by her she presumes, because ever since he’d been nothing but cruel to her. His knocking her out of the room in the blood bank was probably the first kind thing he’d ever done for her, and she isn’t a hundred percent certain that she wasn’t just in his way while he was trying to get out.

So she glowers at him as she pushes from her couch, “Sod off. I’ll get you some blankets.”

He almost immediately replaces the spot that her body had been with his legs, stretching out as far as he could and his feet flop on the arm of the sofa, “Reckon you should make me some of that tea though, so I can sleep.” He called after her. Thumper hops off and follows after her, while Oat finds her spot at Harry’s side and cuddles into where his cardigan’s extra fabric bundles. Y/N goes to the closet in the hall that leads to her bedroom, pries it open, and reaches to the top shelf where she keeps her extra blankets and pillows. Despite how irritated he makes her, she grabs him one of her heavier quilts, because even with her heat kicked up higher than normal her flat has very poor insulation, and the night’s into early mornings get pretty cold. She’s about to grumble at him that he better thank her for this and the bloody tea, but when she returns to the living room. . .he’s asleep.

Harry just fell right to sleep.

She’s confused -- understandably, she thinks, because she remembers how much of a fit he’d thrown about her tea and how she was closed on weekends so he couldn’t have any of it. Had whined how he wasn’t able to sleep without the tea, and she had only given him peppermint tea tonight, so there was no reason that should have put him to bed.

Yet there he was, fast asleep with his arms crossed over his chest.

Tutting her tongue quietly, she unrolls the blanket she had chosen for him and strategically places it over his legs. She is careful to move Oat so that she doesn’t suffocate under the covers as she pulls them over, up to Harry’s chest before replacing her in the spot she had snuggled prior. She pauses for a moment before she leaves them, taking in a completely relaxed Harry -- not that he doesn’t seem relaxed all the time, but he’s just. . .calm. His muscles have melted against her couch cushions, his brow has soothed and his amaranth pink lips are soft and parted. Gentle, easy breaths slip through his mouth. . .Y/N thinks that she likes him like this. Not spiteful, or crass -- this Harry doesn’t seem to hate her. This Harry is warm and comfortable enough to just fall asleep on her couch.

Thumper thumps his foot against the floor, his not-so-silent request that they go to bed and Y/N snaps out of whatever hypnotic state she’d been in watching him rest. She feels creepy but shakes it off, reaching down to pick up Thumper by his belly and cradling him to her chest as she leaves the living room, keeping her lamp on for him in case he wakes up to have a wee or anything.

It’s when she goes to the kitchen to grab him a bottle of water to leave at the coffee table for him, that she can feel Thumper judging her. This is only confirmed by the way he is looking up at her when she looks down at him, his small, pink nose twitching, and she can just sense him repeating Harry’s tease of have you got a crush on me or summat? -- it’s not like he hasn’t questioned her before. She reckons if Thumper could actually speak and not just implant little thoughts of his in her head through whatever little bond they have, he would be very free with his accusations about who she might have feelings for.

Y/N rolls her eyes.

“No, I don’t,” she disagrees with him quietly, “What do you know about crushes, hm? You’re just a bunny.”

. . .

It had been a while since Harry had worked.

Though he was always hesitant to call it work, all things considered. Y/N had once described to him that what he did was lurk around seedy clubs and wait to be recognized by a sorry sap that wanted something they didn’t want to put much effort towards, and Harry can’t necessarily say she’s wrong. He preyed on the lazy; men and women who couldn’t be arsed to obtain a goal without the help of a little magic no matter how negative, and Harry couldn’t really fault them for it. One, because sometimes goals are unattainable with literally anything other than a demon's help, and two because he gets a hefty wad of cash in his pocket for his trouble. How hypocritical could he be to deprecate their usage of dark magic when he is doing the same thing. . .when he relies on that more than anything, even the silly little romance novels he writes so that nobody questions where his money’s coming from.

It was a Friday night, and since he was no longer tied to the commitment of meeting Y/N to discuss the horrible, no good, terrible thing that was slithering its way through town and apparently spurring bouts of attempted murder -- he was able to visit a club. Though Y/N had made him lock pinkies with her that morning, telling him to keep his eye out for anything suspicious that may or may not have led to the events from the night prior.

Promise me that you’ll keep informed on what’s going on there, okay? And promise me that you’ll tell me about it.

The club he’d visited was one of the more popular of the four he frequented, and within the walls, amongst the gyrating bodies in scant clothing and sweat-drenched skin, were many of his regular clients. One of which had been blowing up his phone for the past week telling him how he desperately needed help, and he needed it ASAP. Harry finally replied to his message with a simple time that he would meet him, and that they would discuss the cost once he’s explained what is being asked of him. This guy, in particular, wanted many frivolous things, and typically his requests revolved around wealth, though Harry thought he had more than enough. And while Harry could do a few simple spells that would bring the money gradually and don’t come with the dangers that a demon will, he refuses. Harry has always told each of his clients that a spell and a demon could do the same thing, but demons brought faster results, albeit potentially precarious consequences.

And when it comes to summoning, things can get a bit tricky. If the person who is summoning is the person who will benefit from the demon’s will directly, then it may come with a price, and that price may or may not be hidden between the lines. Especially when it is someone who has no clue about the actual process, offerings that could be made without including their soul for the taking, and spells that could be done that would protect them. After doing this for so long, Harry had developed and harnessed enough power that it was rare a spell every backfired or a demon ever bested him, but if Bradley Evans tried this himself, he’d be good as dead.

This is why, no matter how this man grates every open end of his nerves with a dull blade, he continues to help him. Again, Harry gets paid an obscene amount of money for what he does, so he sucks it right up -- and it’s not as if this money is just for him. He has people to take care of, his own personal gripes with the smarmy, rich, meat-headed pricks that want him to summon Clauneck for a trip to the Bahamas matter very little in the grand scheme of things.

He’s leaning against the far back corner, at a table that he’d claimed for the night and a cherry mango cocktail that wets his lips and stains them red. He really isn’t scouting for suspicious behavior like he had promised to, only because his mind had floated elsewhere entirely. Like how, after so long of only ever being able to rest with help of Y/N’s chamomile, he was able to fall asleep without the help of anything. He had asked her about the tea that she and he drank prior to him passing out unprompted on her couch, but she told him it was just a store-bought strawberry tea that was a guilty pleasure.

It perplexed him greatly. He only remembers her demanding him to stay the night because she didn’t want to be alone (and if he’s honest, neither had he after the night they had), he remembers her standing and him stretching out on her couch, and he remembers asking her for the tea that would help him sleep.

And then he remembers waking, feeling refreshed, and renewed. Confused, but reinvigorated, he had a wee before poking around in her kitchen for something to satiate his grumbly stomach. Y/N was still asleep -- he’d peeked his head into her cracked open door only to find her dreaming peacefully, relaxed, and content. As creepy as it felt to stare at her as she slept, he did watch for a moment. It was different to see her without the accompanied scowl he usually coaxed upon her face -- the blissful gleam that exudes from her now is the same that he sees when she’s tending to one of her gardens.

He brewed two chai lattes in her Keurig with Oat on his shoulder like a bird and she woke as he was taking the second mug, setting it on her kitchen counter, “G’morning,” she yawned, Thumper hopping behind her, looking just as sleepy, “Did you sleep through the night? I made you a cuppa and kept it in the microwave in case you woke up.”

His heart had lurched. . .a genuine clench that Harry had not felt in a while.

“Oh,” he blinked at her owlishly, “I slept just fine, but thank you.”

“Mm, good,” she was so sleepy still, Harry remembers wondering if she was even fully awake speaking to him, “I have sliced fruit in the fridge if you want, for brekkie.”

It was a domesticated scenario that Harry had not been privy to.

Had it been her flat? Maybe the plants that she had strewn about the room were all enchanted, singing sweet songs of sleep that lulled him to sleep without him knowing. All he could recall was feeling so unbelievably comforted and no matter how cold it was in that damn flat, he felt so warm. . .so warm, and it smelled so good, and Oat was snoozing happily at his side. Plus she had wrapped him in this quilt that was heavy and smelled nice -- he thinks, in that moment, he finally understood why babies liked feeling contained in a swaddle blanket. Regardless of what happened at the blood bank, and what they found out on the news, Harry felt safe in her flat. And he probably wouldn’t have left either, if he didn’t have to work.

He’s so caught in his reverie, that Bradley’s arrival truly startled him. A clearing of his throat catches his attention, dragging his unfocused gaze from the crowd of dancers to Bradly, dressed in a Lacoste polo that thought was ugly but he would never say it aloud, “Oh,” he straightened up, bringing the rim of his glass to his mouth and taking a small sip of it, “Right then, what can I do for you? Another trip to Barbados?”

Bradley shakes his head a little frantically, and it's only then that Harry takes in the actual appearance of him, that surpasses the Lacoste and zeros in on the panic that decorates his face, “I need like -- like a demon protector or some kinda spell or -- I don’t fucking know, or something.”

“Oh --” his brows dip, “What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”

He starts to nod, then switches it to a shake of his head, and that morphs into a shrug of his shoulders, “I don’t know man, I just don’t feel -- I don’t feel safe. I wondered if one of those demons from before were like. . .after my soul or summat.”

“Not possible,” Harry dismisses the idea, setting his glass down on the high round table, “When I work with them we make a spiritual, contractual agreement that they are bound to. If your soul was not on the table, then it will never be on the table -- it must be something else,” he thinks for a moment before a slither of realization stokes the fire in his brain, that sets the coals aflame and heats the cogs to a churn, “What -- explain to me what you’re feeling?”

“Like something is watching me,” he blinked, crossing his arms on top of the table and leaning most of his weight onto it, the scent of liquor wafts over Harry’s face when Bradly breathes, “It’s heavy and. . .it’s like swimming in ink. It’s horrible and frightening, and I’ve never -- I’ve never been one to rely on vibes, but mate, they were bad. . .they were like -- vile. Vile vibes, man.”

Harry thinks, while his description is repugnant, he knows exactly what he’s talking about, but there wasn’t much he could do. Harry can make protection spells that are generalized but he doesn’t believe that any of them are strong enough to fend off whatever this thing is. In cases like this one, sometimes dark magic is not good to fight dark magic, it can only make it grow and fester like a nasty, infected wound. He really did not want to try that out on Bradley. . .he may not be fond of the guy, but he didn’t wish anything ill on him.

“You wouldn’t come to me for a protection spell, for something like that,” Harry begins, “You would need --” You would need Y/N -- is what is about to leave his lips, but it drops away. As much as it’s true -- as much as Harry knows that the reason he felt the safest he’s ever had in Y/N’s presence was whatever protection spells she had put in place and strengthened -- he couldn’t. The thought of sending someone like Bradley to someone like Y/N, makes him feel sick. “Give me one second, yeah? Stay here.”

Y/N gave him her number that morning, telling him that it was silly for them to be unable to contact one another. Harry saved it into his phone and sent her a picture of Oat so that she would have his, but left it at that -- he had assumed, until this moment, that he would never have a reason to have her number. If he ever wanted anything from her he would just show up at her store.

But here he was, scrolling through his contact list to find her, pressing her number and holding his phone up to his ear. It only rings twice before she’s answered it, “Hello? Is everything okay Harry, did you get a lead?”

Harry laughs in disbelief, “What’re you, a detective?” He cleared his throat so he could speak over the music clearly, “I need you for something, and I’ll give you half. And before you get all high and mighty, it isn’t for anything bad -- one of my regulars is experiencing the same fucked thing we have only it’s more vile vibes opposed to blood seeping from the walls. Need a protection spell -- whatever you use for your flat and store.”

She’s quiet for a moment, long enough that Harry questions if his service dropped, but her voice reappears.

“Where are you?”

Fifteen minutes later, Harry is flagging Y/N down to his spot in the club where he stood next to Bradley whose friends kept coming around wondering if Harry was his pull for the night. Her jumper with a printed bunny right in the center made him chuckle to himself -- it was more than clear that she had not planned on coming out tonight, and if not for Harry, he thinks she would have spent three more hours at her store tending to the garden there if not for him. When she sees him, noticeable relief makes her shoulders slump, and as she gets closer, she reaches into her pocket, “Thank god,” she called over the music, “I’ve been in here for three minutes and if I got knocked into one more time I was going to lose it.”

She produces two things -- one is a tiny vial, with an unidentified green liquid, and the other is a small baggie of her tea. Harry takes both from her hand, “Thank you,” he murmurs, before dipping down closer to her ear, “Go over to that empty table near the bar, I don’t want this guy seeing you clear enough that he could ask you for anything ever again.”

Though she was confused, she listened to him, slinking her way over to the table while Harry turned to Bradley who had been looking at his phone, before both were placed in front of them, “Thank you,” he tells him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. How much?”

“850,” Harry says without batting an eyelash. Typically his business runs closer to the thousands but he cuts the guy a break since he’s scared.

“Each or what?” Bradley asks as he fishes his wallet from his pocket, flipping the leather open and beginning to thumb through his bills.

“No, just 850,” he takes the bills from him, folding it between his fingers, “I shipped your crystals last week, did they come?”

Bradley nods, a big grin on his face, “Oh, fuck yeah dude, I almost forgot! I already transferred you the money for them right?”

Harry thinks it’s a shame that he doesn’t keep track -- he could really scam him if he wanted to, with these black crystals bathed in the water of Asmodeus (they increases stamina and aids them in not being shit in bed; it was a fucking full-day event to get Asmodeus to recognize the clear stream water, in an incubator that he checks every 15 minutes or so to see if the water has been touched red) “Yeah, you sent double the amount ‘cos your buddy wanted some too, right?”

“He loved them, mate, he’s way less narky too now that he’s getting his dick wet.”

Harry holds back a grimace, “Alright then, stay safe. You know how to contact me if you need anything.”

Bradley bids his goodbye and Harry seeks out Y/N, who is picking idly at her fingernails and bobbing her head slightly to the music. When he gets close enough to her, he starts on his spiel as he waves the money toward her,

“Listen, Babe, you used your plants to help him, honestly you deserve way more than this -- a fucking Nobel Prize probably,” he holds it out to her, “Here.”

She shakes her head, but not in the way she would if she were refusing it because she was disgusted by him -- no, instead she closes his hand around it again and presses it closer to his body, “No, no, you keep it, he’s your guy or whatever.”

Harry tilts his head, brows knitted, “But they’re your plants.”

“Yeah, but I would just feel guilty taking it from you so --”

He sighs, counting out 450 of it, taking her hand, opening her fingers, and sliding the bills into her palm, “Even split then. If you’re going to utilize something precious to you to help someone like that fucker, you deserve a little compensation for it. “

Y/N must realize that he wasn’t going to let it go, because she finally folds it in her hands, slipping it into her pocket, “What’s with that guy then? Why do you not like him?”

Harry can see it clearly; the image of his childhood self, his family struggling to make ends meet but going to primary school with the wealthier kids. The ones who laughed at his faded shirts, and holed winter coats -- who would ask him to their birthday parties and talk shit about the gift he’d scraped up coins for doing miscellaneous work around the neighborhood. He thinks about how he knew they would go home to kitchens full of food, and bountiful dinners that they would never appreciate, while Harry never took seconds because no matter how hungry he was, he made sure their bellies were as full as they could be. And Harry remembers how the headmaster did nothing to quell his worries because those kid’s parents could buy out the school if they wanted to.

He sees it all, and he hears it all, and for a moment -- selfishly -- it makes Harry wish he had never given Bradley the protection spell at all.

But he only shakes his head, “He’s just a prick,” he answers simply, before nodding his head toward the door, “Reckon we should get out of here, it smells like piss.”

It’s always a little easier to leave the club than it is to enter it, so they’re out in the cool air soon enough. A small line had formed outside since Harry had been in there last, and as they step out, a group of three is let in through the rope chain that the bouncer is policing. This part of town is always bustling late into the night, so neither feel the cold brush of fear they have been when they’re out in the dark -- or at least the relaxed way Y/N is looking around tells him that she’s pretty content.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” She asks him, pointing at the 24-hour diner right across the street, that had been strategically placed there because people who are drunk and high who just sweat out half their body weight love greasy food, “I skipped dinner today.”

“What a coincidence -- so did I.”

They got a booth in the far back corner, where the white and maroon tilted floor glistened wet from a recent scrub from the mop, and the air smells of lemon pine-sol. This along with the fact that the black leather seats were dusted of the crumbs that usually mottles them, Harry would assume that they had come just in time for their 12 AM clean up, where the first batch of besotted clubbers had left a mess and they were waiting for the second wave to come through. He didn’t miss the eye that the waitress had given them, looking them up and down like she was trying to decipher what state they were both in, but when neither of them wobbles in their stance, or slur through their words asking for a table, she relaxes and asks them where they’d like to sit.

After they get settled and order their food (Harry convinces her to get one of their malted milkshakes with him -- his favorite was strawberry and after she confessed that she never had their strawberry malt, he was insistent on her trying it), Harry’s curiosity is suddenly piqued as he thinks of something he hadn’t thought of before, “How did you make it over to the club so fast, hm? Do you just have jars of this stuff made laying around?”

Y/N sticks her clear straw in the icy glass of water she’d been poured, stirring it like there was anything to mix, and the ice cubes clink together soundly, “No, no, I actually don’t make protection spells unless I’m asked directly -- or usually that’s the case, but I was already in the middle of making some for you and me, so I had a little leftover.”

“For me too?” Harry inquires, genuinely surprised by the concept that she would make him something to keep him safe. She nods though, like it was silly that he thought she wouldn’t have, only this time she reaches into her purse and retrieves two much larger vials with little cork tops, and one bigger bag of the dried leaves, accompanied by a smaller one tied with red ribbon.

“I was doing some research while I was at work --”

“You do a lot of research, don’t you?” He cuts her off and she nods.

“Mhm -- and there’s this like. . .there’s this elder witch who lives an hour or so drive away from us who I think might be immortal, but that’s beside the point. She has this blog that I was scrolling through and she linked her email, so I messaged her and she sent me her number and told me to call her immediately.” She slides one of the vials over to him, along with the tree leaves, “When I did, she told us that we were in a little more danger than everyone else ‘cos like -- whatever this thing is could start trying to feed off of us, especially you. Said that we needed a potent protection spell, and I told her about mine. You feel safe in my store and in my flat right? Like -- like whatever that thing is couldn’t get to us?” He nodded, eyes fixed on hers, “So this is a version of that suitable for our bodies. The tea leaves are for your flat, and then this little bag here --” she points at the one tied closed with the small strip of red ribbon, “-- this is a tea version of it safe for Oat to drink.”

Not only had she made him some, but she also made Oat some too? As much as he disliked her before, he can’t help how this warms his heart, zipping through his body and makes him feel just as safe as he did when he was wrapped in her quilt snug on her couch. Harry wonders if this is what she’s like all the time with her friends. . .he wonders if this side of her, that researches and makes protection goodies, brews him a cuppa just in case he woke up in the middle of the night and comes out in the depth of night to the seedy clubs she despises just because he called and asked -- if that’s what they get to see. If that’s what he would have seen had their meeting been any different.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking the vial and the bags, looking at them against his palm, “A lot. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I did though,” she takes a drink of the water through her straw, “I may not agree with what you do but we’re the only two witches here and there is power in unity, even if our versions of magic are different. We have to be there for each other -- Thumper agrees, and that’s a lot coming from him because he doesn’t like much of anybody. . .he barely likes me,” she holds her hand up, the index finger of her other going from finger to finger as she lists off the ingredients, “So we’ve got fern, anise, leaves from the ash tree in the forest, fennel -- the nice old woman told me to hold off on the mugwort unless we’re planning on astral projecting or doing anything with divination, but if we felt that it was necessary we could wear a wreath of it around her necks. That’s an old wives tale though, I’m pretty sure.” She wiggles her fingers, “All that and a little bit of moon water, and we have ourselves a little protection spell! I dipped my finger in for a taste test and I’ll be honest, it’s awful and plant-y but I reckon we can toss them back like a shot and chase it with a sweet drink like juice or something.”

It hits Harry that he gave Y/N very little credit for what she did, but now as he’s looking at something that she’d made specifically with him in mind, that wasn’t just a glorified sleepy time tea, it puts some things in perspective for him. Sure, she’s been a dick to him in the past, but he was a dick too, about her magic. While he isn’t going to start kissing the ground she walks on, he decides then that he’ll be more mindful of her craft. Plus, from the amount of time that they’ve had to spend together in the past two days, she’s tolerable when she isn’t on her high horse about him summoning spirits and ruining the town. She’s even helpful.

“Thank you,” he repeats, “I really mean it, I appreciate this a lot.”

Y/N smiles at him and it’s a smile that he’s never been gifted before. A smile that makes him smile back, as she places her elbow on the table and holds out her pinky toward him -- she’s big on pinky swears, he’s finding.

“We’re looking out for each other, okay? I’ve got your back if you’ve got mine. . .I swear it.”

Harry locks his pinky with hers without a second thought.

#WRITING #WOOOOOOOOO #SPOOKY #YAHTZEE #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT BECAUSE I LOVE IT LOADDS #AND I LOVE YOU LOADS #HAPPY READING :D #HARRY STYLES

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

WARNINGS: 18+ DUB CON/ NON CON? WEREWOLF BAKUGOU, THIS IS PURE FILTH JUST PURE SMUT

You were never the best at running, especially not through the woods. So it is no surprise your heel snaps off causing you to trip over a small log. Your pelvis bone connects with the thick trunk, brushing your hip as your dress threatens to expose your underwear.

A howl is heard in the distance paired with something moving through the brush at an ungodly speed, gaining on you much faster than you thought.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself, panting as branches seem to reach out. Their sharp, splintered claws grabbing at you and only catching your body con dress. Tearing it piece by piece, you are unsure if your faux bunny ears are still atop your head.It was unfathomable how wrong tonight had gone and how quickly.

But then again it was Halloween and a full moon at that. They say the full moon has the power to make people act crazy and especially so on a blue moon. Which made your panicked mind wander to the rumors about this town and what happens every blue moon. There were whispers of the older families having dark secrets. Fairy tales of beasts and mating but a second full moon in a month was so rare those murmurs and scoffs were supposed to be just that, rumors, stories.

Not actual werewolves who couldn't control their urges during this magical event. The blue moon either filling them with unchecked rage or undeniable lust should they not take the necessary precautions. Although no one would say what exactly those precautions are.

Your first hint about the rumors being true should have been the local news station. You thought it a Halloween prank when they advised women ages of 20 to 30 to remain indoors for tonight, to lock their windows and doors. To adorn their throats in silver to protect them from unwanted bonding. You had rolled your eyes as you got ready for your daily college classes, jumping into your black skinny jeans and blood red sweater.

Your second hint should have been the absence of your good friend Kirishima. He always walked you to your English class since his history course was in the same building but this morning he was a no show. He didn't even respond to your texts last night asking if he wanted to go to a Halloween party with you.

Your final hint should have been when the normally aloof, irritable and "untouchable of the big three" lab partner you had for biology growled in your direction. This would be the first thing he had said all semester.

"Don't go out tonight, got it extra?" His voice is clipped and he is acting strange, his left hand gripping onto his right forearm so harshly a bruise was beginning to bloom. You chalk it up to nerves for the upcoming exams.

"Oh is someone gonna bite me like the news anchor said?" You giggle, turning your focus back on your work only for the professor to cancel class early. You pack your things as Bakugou sits rigid, still. He fixes you a harsh glare before he stands, pulling the strap of your purse causing you to become a little off balance. His eyes dance over your frame, over your exposed neck but you do not notice, barely see his canines elongate as he snarls.

"You'll wish that's all that they did."

Looking back you wish you had noticed it before, then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you were in now.

You burst through the trees and find yourself in a clearing. Here you would a sitting duck to whatever the hell was chasing you. Still not believing your eyes and you crossed paths with a giant wolf. Fur golden in the moon light and eyes a haunting, gut wrenching familiar red. It wasn't too long after that did it give chase.

The howl behind you is too close for comfort as you barely have time to jump into a patch of briars and thick prickly bushes that sit on the edge of a creek. By some odd instinct you grab onto the ice cold mud and smear your arms and part of your neck with it, clenching your jaw so your teeth do not chatter.

Suddenly a large beast bursts into the clearing, wet nose sniffing at the air and ground before it shifts in the clearing under the moonlight. It is a haunting sight. Bones snap and grind as features twist into grotesque angels until it finally forms into that handsome familiar face. The ash blonde fur retreats until it is only on the top of his head, faded beneath while the top looks finger brushed and wild. He is shirtless and his pants are torn from the calf down, the only beastly feature he keeps is the glow of his blood red eyes. You swallow, biting your lip to stop from shaking; this is not the Bakugou you knew. Not that you knew him that well in the first place but there was some power in having a crush. You had learned his mannerisms in the first year here at University, somehow always in a class with him, with one of the three legendary "heartthrobs" of the school. He was as hot headed as the rumors said and he was just as handsome if not more so. Itching for a fight and yet oddly quiet when in close proximity to you. An action you took to mean he either hated you or didn't even know you existed.

So it's safe to say you're unfamiliar with this manic, wolfish grin.

Feral incarnate.

He sniffs the air.

"Where are you little ooooonnne?" He calls cruelly, "I can smell you."

His body goes through the motions of tensing and relaxing, another howl breaks through the eerie silence but this time much farther away. Bakugou's ears perk, his grin twisting in such a way it screams malice, unbridled rage and yet excitement.

"You must be in your mortal heat. Guess I'm not the only one who can smell it. Didn't I tell you not to go out tonight?" His voice is dark, haunting as the wind catches down from you, carrying your scent away from him.

"I knew your dumb ass would ignore me, I took a precaution to that and yet you didn't even bring your fucking purse?!"

Your purse?

Is that how that red cloth and weird silver dollar got into the bottom of your purse?

Bakugou shifts his weight, giving his back to you as he prepares for something coming that you cannot hear. In the meantime you allow your eyes to study his physic, following his scarred back, broad shoulders all the way down to his deadly hands. One of his palms is burned in the shape of a perfect circle, you swallow thickly. The sound causes his ears to twitch and look over his shoulder, making eye contact with you through the brush.

But he does not have time to react as a black furred beast with glowing ruby eyes jumps into the clearing. Sniffing the air wildly before baring his teeth towards Bakugou. The beast huffs and growls before finally shifting into his human form, a cold sweat settles in your bones.

"Where the fuck is she?" You have never heard your friend use a tone so dark as Eijiro continues to pace, keeping his eyes glued to Bakugou.

"Fuck off Kirishima, shes mine."

"I don't see a bonding mark on her yet." Its more a feral growl than anything, "You said you didn't waste your time on mortals."

"I fucking changed my mind. And you know why, her smell is…" He inhales deeply, testing to see how much of you can be sensed. The most he can tell is that you're close by but he cannot pinpoint you, he fights to keep his eyes from falling over his shoulders to see you.

He's dying to know how you masked your scent without with an Alpha's pheromones or a silver piece. But that would have to wait, at least if he wanted to ensure it was his seed that stuffed you. He bites his lip, the thought sends a shiver down his spine. First he had to deal with Kirishima then he could take his time making you his.

"Well you know how it is don't ya? Didn't know you were such a pervert, Eiji. Is that why you walked her to class? Hoping she'd make you her boyfriend or some sappy shit?" Bakugou taunts, head tilting in mock question, "Guess you can't hold back anymore can you? Dreaming about giving her your knot?"

Kirishima bares his teeth, fighting the urge to buck at another Alpha, especially one he knows he will have to fight with full force. He opens his sharp toothed mouth to retort but yet another beast finds it's way into the clearing coming from the opposite of Kirishima but to the right of Bakugou.

The beast looks wild, heterochromatic eyes glisten beneath the full moon as white and red fur clash all the way down his spine. A collar around his throat catches the light as a broken chain drags across the ground, there are shackles around his wrists and ankles as well. Bakugou smirks, adrenaline fueling his excitement over what is about to be a damn good fight.

"You watchin little slut? Look at what your scent can do." He changes his stance into that of a fight, "You've got two normally non aggressive Aplahs ready to get their asses handed to them and for fucking what?"

The three of them shift their eyes and bodies this way and that before Bakugou licks his teeth.

"God I can't wait to bury my face in that soaked pussy." He lunges, transforming mid leap into a hauntingly powerful wolf. His teeth are exposed, lip curled up in a snarl as his targets Kirishima first. Kirishima barely shape shifts in time, pearly white teeth sink deep into his shoulder before gnashing at his throat. Deafening growls and yowling surround the clearing. Kirishima attempts to kick Bakugou off of him as they tumble closer to who you assume is Todoroki who bares his teeth. He launches himself at the other Alphas. His teeth find purchase in Bakugou's shoulder, blood staining white and blonde fur a like. There is no yelp or howl, just a stomach churning growl before Bakugou turns his attention towards the two toned wolf. Snapping his jaw as he attempts to get a grip on the chained wolf who dodges. Bakugou's teeth gleam with dripping crimson, a snarl of warning before he propels himself towards Todoroki. Sharp teeth bite at two toned fur as Shoto bares his teeth, growling, snapping his jaw at his opponent. Kirishima begins to get to his feet, limping as he avoid putting weight onto one of his front legs, crimson drips down onto the chilled dirt. He keeps his ruby red eyes on the two dancing wolves.

Bakugou strikes faster than Todoroki can dodge, and angry teeth clamp down at Todoroki's throat. The collar snaps from the force before Bakugou sinks his fangs deep into Todoroki's throat.

An ear ringing yelp is heard as blood pools into Bakugou's stained muzzle, white fur marred in crimson as Todoroki begins to sway. As the hot head's jaw is locked onto tender flesh, Kirishima attacks. Biting at the nape of Bakugou's neck and yanking him from Todoroki with force, tossing him with ease. The light colored wolf flies into trees snapping the thick oaks as if they were twigs. Buying some time for the two injured wolves, any other alpha would have seen this as a win, knowing the two from rival families would retreat to lick their wounds.

But Bakugou was no normal alpha. This gut clenching fight taught you as much. Todoroki struggles to keep consciousness, his throat dripping an insane amount of blood. He falls to his side huffing almost wheezing before he shifts back into human form, shackles shrinking to readjust to his wrists. Kirishima whines nudging at the unconscious, possibly dead man. All the while crimson red eyes peer through the unsettled dust before soaring through the air, landing on top of the black wolf. Pinning his back onto the ground as dark paws claw at bared teeth. Trying desperately to keep him at bay but with one fucked front paw it is a futile attempt. Quickly Bakugou overpowers him, sinking his teeth too deep into his friend's throat and keeping his muzzle there until the whining and yelping stops. Until he too shifts back to his human form.

You fight to keep your own whimpering in, still hidden in the brush while you hoped, prayed that he somehow got disoriented. That he forgot where you were.

His head snaps towards you, mouth dripping saliva and thick red blood. His eyes glow as his stalks closer. He stops just before the underbrush shifting back into that devilishly handsome face. He is soaked in blood, scratches line his face and chest. He wipes at his mouth but not once does his fist wipe away the cocky smile he holds.

He scares you but what scares you most is how your body is reacting to such a gruesome sight. A muscular man dripping in sticky red, droplets tracing the outline of his abs and a smile of triumph as two people lie wounded, possibly dead behind him. It made your pussy throb, the strength, the raw need and want to win and for what? For you, for your essence and the promise of a futile womb.

He can smell your fear as he yanks you from the bushes and thorns.

"Don't worry, it's not my blood." He grins, pulling you closer to him as you try to push away. Just like you're trying to push away these odd feelings that swirl in your chest, in your stomach; of a weird pride and arousal. It was of no use, like pushing dead weight up a forty five degree hill, this too was a losing battle.

"K..kirishima." Your eyes are glued to his unmoving body, causing a deep rage to form in Bakugou's chest. He grips your chin forcing you to look at him his other hand goes straight for your sex, cupping the underwear allowing his fingers to swipe over the damp fabric.

"Don't you ever say his fucking name while you're wet for me. Got it?" His fingers are causing divots in your cheeks as you whimper from his contrasting touch. Harsh grip, soft strokes. As if reading your mind he takes a deep breath, not meaning to inhale so much of you.

"They ain't dead, you're worth the trouble. But not that much trouble. Now focus on me." He let's go of you, drinking you in smirking when he sees your costume. Or what's left of it anyway.

Thick irony that you would choose to be a bunny of all nights. He fingers the fake ears with earnest.

"Fitting." He purrs before taking both of his hands to the front collar of your dress, ripping the fabric from your torso. He growls audibly mumbling to himself "Much better." As you stand with your tits exposed, your lacy underwear catching his attention beneath fishnet tights. He bites his bottom lip, pulling you to him as he buries his face into your tits. Nipping sucking and biting as he eases your buckling legs towards the ground.

"Fuuuuck." He groans, pressing his cheek harshly against yours, trying to scent you as best he can without claiming you fully. It's hard, fuck is it hard. It always has been, since his first class with you.

You weren't a beta nor an omega. Hell you were of no wolf relation and yet you reeked, oozed of pheromones that drove him and apparently the others mad. He had tried to protect you, he really had, scenting a piece of an old t-shirt and even burning himself on silver.

He wanted you, he needed you, his cock ached for you. Weeping now at your arousal making his canines ache with an even greater pain.

But you were fucking mortal and he was betrothed. Technically all three of the aplahs in that clearing were betrothed to omegas. It was evident your smell seduced them as well.

He brings himself to your shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood, claws, stuck halfway between human and wolf, rake down your back and ass making ribbons of the flesh. Still you moan and he occasionally swallows those whole as he kisses you. Letting you taste copper as his tongue placates yours, he subconsciously secretes soothing and lustful hormones and they are strong enough to make even you high. His hand finds your nipple and when you arch into him he loses his shit. Breaking the kiss to sniff you, nosing and biting until he finds that sweet spot. He opens his mouth, salivating at the thought as his teeth and cock beg for relief. He freezes, squeezing you to him for a moment. The action causes your ribs to creak in protest and yet you feel warm, safe.

His mouth hovers over your pulse point, the salty sweet taste of you, breaths away from the exact spot he would need to sink his aching teeth into to make you his.

In a quick motion and a test of will he shoves you onto your back, ripping at the fabric between your thighs after he forces your legs open. You do nothing to stop him, not that could.

Not that you would.

He slips his tongue between your folds and licks up, swirling the wet muscle when you buck against him. He hooks his arms around your legs gaining control over your hips and eats.

See Bakugou is a glutton and he will not stop until he is satisfied. It would be a gift and a curse for you.

He works his mouth against you thoroughly as the coil in your stomach snaps over and over again. Your hand fisting his hair as you cry out in hoarse gasps, legs shaking around his head, thighs squeezing his skull as he coaxes another high from you.

Your entire body is shaking, worn out already from however long he sucked, nipped and lapped at your core. Finally he seemed to come up for air but only to watch your sex convulse. He looks up to you causing your heart to skip a beat. His hair is that much more wild, his intense gaze glowing red in the low light and his face glistens with your slick.

"Fuck!" You cry out, letting your head fall back into the ground.

"What's wrong bunny? Can't handle a little head?" He shoves two fingers deeply into you making a come here motion. You ride another body quaking high as he tries to stretch you to accommodate him. His breathing becomes frantic, as he chases a smell you're emitting. Thrusting harshly into you as his other hand abusesyour clit until that deliciously addicting smell he's chasing crescendos. Your scream echoes in the woods as clear liquid shoots over Bakugou's forearms, all the while you held fluttering eye contact, practically melting in his hands. His fangs grow and he cannot hold himself back any longer. He shoves his pants all the way down, even off of his ankles as he sinks his lengthy girth into you in a snap of his hips. A mixture of pain and pleasure shoot through you like a live wire as you begin to mewl, needing him to move.

"More, more." You whine, tears prick your eyes as he smiles a deadly smirk.

"You're such a talkative cock sleeve. You want my knot that bad? Then take it." He thrusts into you setting a deep harsh pace. Alternating between quick succession and slow deep throats. Biting at the skin of your chest and shoulders, torturing you in such a way.

Punishing you for being mortal.

"Why?" It's a guttural growl as your mind is lost on another plane, "Why do you have to be mortal?"

He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips earning him a lovely raspy moan from you.

"I want to...to fucking mark you. Make you mine. The thought of any other alpha or even fucking human touching you…." His thoughts have him chasing two very dangerous highs, snapping his hips so he comes closer to your throat.

"Please...please Bakugou." You whimpering encourages him.

He breathes you in, tasting you without even a flicker of his tongue. Your arousal, your damp hair sticking to the column of your throat, the faint scent of your shampoo.

Somehow he reigns himself in again. Teeth elongated enough they almost scrape your skin. His breath comes out hot and heavy as you squirm beneath him for friction, wanting nothing more than to be filled. If he does this, if he makes you his mate, it would surely complicate everything.

"You have to tell me you want it." He's panting, vulnerable as he looks at you, your heart shatters from the look. Deafening reason and logic as it screams how badly you want to be his and he yours.

"Not just because it feels fucking good right now." His voice is husky, rasped as he fights the weight of his instincts, "Not because I'm fucking hot or a novelty to you mortals. If I mark you, you'll always feel something for me and vice versa. We'll be tethered and attracted to one another even if we fucking hate each other."

Slowly you nod, again he grabs onto your chin, sliding it down to your throat as he squeezes.

"This isn't some good acid trip, this isnt some fucking dream. You'll have to meet the elders. You'll have to deal with my ruts." Again he's panting, shaking from holding himself back, having half a mind to just kill you. Still you do not move away from his touch.

"My jealousy. My rage. My need for territory control. I'll come home dripping in blood. I'll kill other Alpahs." He breathes your name in such a way you clench around him. He growls from the sensation. You struggle to speak beneath his grip, head floating but some how in the right spot.

"I...I can handle it. Mark me Bakugou Katsuki. Fucking make me yours, fill me use me. Just…" He stares into your eyes until he can no longer take it. Pounding into you in a harsh pace, finally giving in

"You'll take my knot like a good slut won't you?" His eyes watch you nod before they fall to your breasts. Watching them bounce from the force of his thrusts. His hips turn sloppy as your high builds again. You claw at his back and his smells your high as he tries to time it right. He sinks his teeth into your throat, keeping it just a hair above a marking.

You feel a growing pressure as his tip stretches you even more until he finally sinks his teeth into you with a grown. His thrusts stuttering as hot ropes paint your walls. Your cunt flutters around it as all you can do is become limp in his grip. His arms are fully around you, his mouth still to your throat as he slowly eases up. His body giving off a bonding hormone so strong that even your moral senses can pick up on. It you drown in a high scented in spice caramel and heat. He pants heavily, his arms shaking as he kisses you fiercely, teeth bumping into yours before he pulls back.

Weakly you claw at him to hold him as he whispers praises. He lifts you, pulling you towards his chest to keep you safe as you begin to drift. His mouth is pressed to your ear and you can hear the cocky smile in his voice.

"Get some rest while you still can mate." His hand snakes around to your stomach, his fingers lightly caressing the skin.

"We aren't done until you're carrying my pups."

Tags

@katsukisprincess @avellanagamer100 @bakugotrashpanda my number one fan

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #dub con #non con #werewolf bakugou #werewolf bakugo #alpha bakugou #bnha alpha

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

Text

♡ — pairing: jumin han x reader

♡ — tags/warnings: fluff overload <3

♡ — a/n: This is part of @mysme-rbb ‘s event MysMe Reverse Big Bang! I had the opportunity to work with Maryellen, this great artist. Please check her work here, it goes along this story! <3

♡ — length: 1.8k

♡ — masterlist

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

You looked back at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Of course, honey. You said you wanted to experiment new things with me, right?” you asked with a smile.

“I know and I do, my love. I just don’t know if a roller coaster is the way we should do it.”

You sighed and put your hands on your hips, looking up at your husband. A couple of days ago, you had commented on the photos Yoosung had sent to the RFA chatroom. There, he was at the theme park, a wide grin on his face as he had his arm around his girlfriend. He talked on and on about how much fun they had, how many things they ate and that it had been an incredible date. Everything was fine until Jumin dared to ask what Yoosung's girlfriend was holding in her hand.

“Cotton candy?” Yoosung replied.

“Is it derived from cotton? That’s actually interesting.”

The rest of the RFA erupted in laughter, mocking Jumin’s question. You were sad Jumin wasn’t there with you in that moment as you could have avoided that awkward moment.

“I actually have never tried cotton candy either,” you stepped in but the other members were far kinder to you, explaining what the candy was made of and how it tasted. “No, I know what cotton candy is,” you corrected them. “But my mom never let me have some as a kid. My nutritionist was against it.”

After Saeyoung’s joke about both you and Jumin having nutritionists since you were babies and how “rich people were just different” and “you and Jumin were made for each other”, they moved on to another subject.

Usually, you would have let it go. Coming from an accommodated family like Jumin and being a heiress of a company you had very similar experiences as your husband and found comfort in that. But Yoosung’s picture roamed around your head the entire day and it was so obvious Jumin asked what you were thinking about as you brushed your teeth in front of the bathroom mirror.

“You know me too well,” you chuckled, mouth full of toothpaste. You spat on the sink and then washed your toothbrush as well. You left it on the small vase and then took your night face cream, putting a small amount on your fingers and then massaging your cheeks with it.

“You’re my wife, of course I do,” he replied. You handed him your cream and he imitated you, applying it to his face as well.

“Don’t you ever feel jealous about not having the same childhood as everyone?”

Jumin paused, considering your question a couple of seconds before shaking his head.

“No.”

“I do,” you sighed as you massaged your forehead. “Sometimes I wished I didn’t have to learn Economics when I was eight. It would have been fun to be a kid at a theme park, you know? Eating cotton candy and trying out the different rides.”

“Is this about Yoosung’s photo?”

“Yes,” you admitted, drawing gentle circles on your jaw with the cream until you were satisfied with the result. “I just think when you’re a kid, even if you’re rich, you should get to enjoy things more, you know?”

“I don’t know why but if you say so, then I agree,” Jumin said, leaning over and kissing the top of your head. You smiled sweetly at him through the mirror. “If you’re really upset about it, I can accompany you to the theme park.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly.

He nodded. “I told you long ago. Be as greedy as you want with me.”

Jumin was deeply enamoured with you. He couldn’t picture his life without you in it and if there was anything you wanted, he would find a way to give it to you. He knew you were more than capable of buying yourself pretty things but there was nothing else he adored more than to see your eyes sparkling as he handed you a new present.

But he had miscalculated when he offered to take you to the theme park. Even with two security guards following you, for the first time in many years he was unsure for his safety.

“I just don’t think it looks safe.”

“Jumin, it’s just a rollercoaster. It’s the smallest and shortest one here- look, even five year olds are allowed,” you said as you pointed at the sign, “And with these VIP bracelets we can avoid the line, c’mon. Please?” you asked, sticking out with lower lip,

It worked like a charm.

You could see how firmly Jumin grabbed the handles as the roller coaster got faster and faster. Your arms were firmly looped around Jumin’s right arm, screaming gleefully during the first fall. In retrospective, sitting on the front line hadn’t been your brightest idea but you wouldn’t have changed it for anything. You were surprised you didn’t hear him scream so you looked up to him, holding back a laugh when you saw his lips pressed in a thin line as he had his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay!?” you asked loudly but he just nodded.

When the ride was over, you stepped away and did your best not to comment on Jumin’s wobbly legs as he led the way, holding your hand tightly in his. His hair was a mess and you pulled him closer, stepping on your toes and grabbing his face sweetly.

“I love you so much,” you grinned, pressing a small kiss on his lips. Despite his shaken state, he accepted your touch and leaned into you, his muscles visibly relaxing.

“I love you too.”

As you walked around you decided to wait before you asked Jumin to jump into another ride with you. Never letting go of his hand, you walked to the different stands and were delighted when Jumin and you bought matching cat ears. You made sure to take several selfies of you both to share with the other RFA members.

You kept on looking at the different stands, being amused at magic tricks and children playing along with the parents to win different prizes. You got your eyes on a pink stuffed bunny and once the competition was over, you walked to the young man as you took out your wallet from your purse.

“Hello, how much for the stuffed bunny?”

“Those are prizes for the game, Miss. It’s not for sale.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jumin interjected. “It must have a price.”

“It does, but…” the man paused, slightly confused. “That’s how the game works. You shoot three cans and you can get the bunny.”

Jumin and you looked at each other with a confused expression, trying and failing to understand how this worked.

“You pay $3… and you get three shots. If you take down three of those cans,” the man said, ponting at a tower of cans behind him. “You get the bunny as a prize.”

Jumin handed him the money and was given one of the guns. You smiled as the CEO of C&R wearing a pair of cat ears held a gun, squinting so he could get the cans.

But he almost hit the man.

Nevertheless, Jumin was a relentless man. Before you could notice he was trying out his luck for the fifth time but hadn’t managed to take down a single can. As Jumin paid for three more shots, you put your hand on his arm gently.

“Honey.”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t we let John try out his luck?” you said, leaning your head towards your bodyguards. Jumin shook his head.

“I think I’m capable of doing this for my wife.”

“Jumin, this is you taking photos again. Your hands are a little shaky,” you chuckled. “How about we try together?” you offered. Jumin’s silence gave you the green light to stand closer to him, holding the gun with him and pointing it to one of the cans. “Okay… shoot!”

Jumin pulled the trigger and one of the cans fell to the ground.

“Yes!” you screamed in excitement, jumping up and down.

Two more shots of teamwork and you held your stuffed bunny in your hands. You grinned widely as you walked with your husband across the theme park. A warm feeling crept on your face as you watched him eat cotton candy at a slow pace. You had already devoured yours faster than you wanted to admit.

“Thanks for coming with me here,” you said.

Jumin squeezed your hand gently. “Of course. Anything for you.”

“I just think it’s important we get to experiment these things, you know?”

“I’m not quite sure about that,” he confessed. “But if it makes you happy, then it is important for me as well.”

“But didn’t you have a good time?”

“I did,” Jumin nodded. “I just don’t understand how this experience is vital for our lives.”

“How are we supposed to try and give our son or daughter a normal childhood if we haven’t experimented it beforehand?

Jumin chuckled. “We’ll have plenty of time to worry about that.”

“What if we don’t?”

“What do you mean?” he asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“What if… we have to worry about it right now?” you continued, a timid smile forming on your lips.

Jumin stopped in his tracks, forcing you to do so as well.

“Are you… Do you mean you’re…” he asked with an uncharacteristic quiet voice, his eyes darting from yours to your stomach.

“Four weeks,” you beamed, feeling tears forming in your eyes as you broke the news.

Jumin’s lips parted and you watched him struggle as he chose his next words. You waited in silence, giving him the time he needed as he took all the information. It had been a week since you had been late and after an inconclusive home test, you had gone to the doctor, wanting clarification. After an ultrasound, she had confirmed you were pregnant and since then you had been planning out the perfect way to tell Jumin the good news. Initially, you had decided on telling him later during dinner but your feelings got the best of you, not being able to refrain yourself any longer.

The next thing you knew is that Jumin was dropping the cotton candy on the floor and pulling you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, burying your face on his chest with a wide smile as you let happy tears stream down your cheeks.

“Thank you,” Jumin whispered against your hair. “I promise I will do my best. I will give them everything they need, I will- I will come back from work earlier, I won’t accept as many business trips. I will let them be themselves, I don’t care if they’re loud or quiet or popular or shy, I just- I will let them be happy. I swear, I will do my best.”

You nodded pulling away from his hug a little to press a kiss on his trembling lips.

“I know you will. That’s one of the reasons I chose you,” you reminded him.

Jumin wiped the tears from your face as you laughed again, overwhelmed by the knowledge you were about to start a family with the man you loved the most.

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han #jumin x reader #mysme jumin #mm jumin #jumin x mc #jumin fluff #jumin han fluff

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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Family (5/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / here

Had no idea how to connect with Aizawa. Hopefully, this works. Sorry about my hyperfixation on this.

Warnings- some swearing

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

I get ready for yet another day of babysitting Eri. Thinking back on the festival yesterday, the uncomfortable feeling between the two men is something I’d rather not experience again if possible. They’re together as well, so why did Hizashi put me between them? I could have sat on the other side of him if he wanted me beside him so bad. Don’t think Aizawa was too happy about it either with the narrow look he gave me, now that I think about it. It’s best to try to avoid those situations in the future.

While in my mind, I didn’t notice my friend in front of me and bumped into them. Ryo doesn’t look too good. They have bigger eyebags than I’ve ever seen and are frowning with their arms crossed. “Glad to catch you. I stayed up all night waiting for you.”

“Ryo, whatever it is, you could have just texted or called me.”

They frown deeper. “I’ve been trying to stay happy for you, I really have. I and a few of the others really miss you hanging out with us. We’ll even blast your favorite song the whole day and night. Just… Please join us for a whole day once again.”

I knew what they were getting at. Damn it, guilt is really starting to rise in me. I desperately want to hang out with them, but that stupid dinner I’m pretty much forced to go to this Sunday… Ugh, why couldn’t they wait until next Sunday!? “I’m sorry, Ryo, but they want me to babysit the kids again this Sunday. I told them I’m not available next Sunday though! We can hang out then!”

Their frown goes deeper than ever seen by me. “Come on, Y/N! We haven’t had a day to hang out properly in like, what? Months? Every time you return you’re too tired to join us. Those damn kids can go ONE. DAY. without you taking care of them. Don’t you think you’ve done enough for them yet!? The only day we had was Sunday, but for the last few you’ve been stuck with them AGAIN. For how much you take care of them, the adults shouldn’t even HAVE them!”

I nearly snapped at them for the last thing they said. They seem angry though, so I try to not let it get to me too much, or it could end badly for both of us.

It’s easy to tell they all care for each other, and taking one of them away from their little family would be greatly unethical. What also holds me back is remembering Ryo doesn’t know the story of the kids, or that the adults are heroes and teachers. Man, I wish I could tell them. Surprised they haven’t made the connection themselves yet of at least figuring out they’re teachers. “Their jobs are highly demanding. Trust me, they’d much rather be with their kids if they could. I’ve seen how they act towards them.”

“That doesn’t mean shit. For all you know, it could just be a front!”

I shake my head. “Don’t think so. Pretty sure one of them would be incredibly bad at acting.”

They glare at me. “Whatever you think.” They then storm off, leaving more guilt to eat away at me. Ugh, I feel like crying out of frustration.

The mold-quirked male comes up to me when Ryo leaves. “Sorry about them. They’re kinda in a bad spot with the police right now. They got a little too drunk and spat at an officer yesterday.”

“Again? I thought they learned their lesson last time from me scolding them.”

“Sadly, no. I think they’re losing control since their impulse control is gone.”

Now I’m more annoyed than guilt-ridden. Ryo is a few years older than me. They shouldn’t be such a child about it and need my help when they decide to drink too much. “Thanks for informing me, uh… sorry, I don’t think you ever told me your name.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Right! Just call me by my first name, Tadao.”

First name basis off the bat is a little weird, but he says it, so sure. “Right! Tadao, Can you keep an eye on them for me still? I’m still rather busy as you might have noticed.”

He nods. “I can do that. Just do me a favor, and try to take it easy for yourself one of these days. You seem a little worn out yourself recently.”

I shrug. “It’s more of what’s happened lately, and what’s on my mind I think.”

He seems unsure about my answer if anything about his dark brown eyes is to go by. He just nods again though and goes to follow Ryo.

I push what just happened to the back of my mind and head towards their home again. After the Ferris Wheel yesterday, Hizashi gave me a key and told me to use it to enter their house from now on since they might be too busy to answer the door. They haven’t had trouble answering the door before, but I’ve learned by now to not question Hizashi’s sporadic way of mind. It doesn’t ease the discomfort that I feel like I’m intruding by randomly entering their house though.

I unlock the door and enter to see a rather concerned Eri hugging the new stuffed animal with the dog and the bunny. “Hey, Eri. What’s wrong?”

It looks like she’s torn from being happy to see me, to having great worry. “Dad’s sick.”

Aizawa’s sick? He was just fine yesterday. I think she calls Aizawa “dad” and Hizashi “daddy” if I’ve noticed correctly. Sometimes it’s really confusing having same-sex parents and trying to know which they’re referring to. “Is Aizawa okay?” I ask, just to be sure it’s the right one.

She nods.

Hitoshi comes into the living room. “He’ll be fine. It was a quirked villain from the ambush yesterday. It’s not contagious, but he’s not allowed to go to the school for twenty-four hours. The principal said he’d have the other teachers kick him out if he enters the school. Even Recovery Girl and no one wants to deal with her wrath.”

“Recovery… Girl?”

He looks like he wants to slap himself. “Right. Uh… She’s the healer after our fights basically.”

“The name makes sense then.”

He nods. “In his shape, he can’t take care of Eri though, so we didn’t tell you to not come.”

“Sounds good,” I smirk, though internally I’m cringing at the thought of being alone with the quiet man. “So, you guys want me to check in on him a few times today as well I’m guessing?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “If you wouldn’t mind, that is. It’s obviously not something you’re hired for.”

I shrug. “It should be fine. I don’t think he’ll be very demanding of me doing things for him if I know him well enough by now.”

Hitoshi smirks in reply to me. “He’s too stubborn to even take cough medicine.”

“I didn’t expect anything different.” Seems rather childish though for a full-grown man. Not like I’d ever say that to his face though.

Hizashi comes out of what must be their bedroom and sees me. “Heya, little lovesong! Did these two fill ya in already?”

Love… song? What’s with the sudden nickname? He always seems to call people “listeners” or whatever, so maybe it’s just a more friendly type of thing?

He also makes his arms go outstretched and looks at me expectantly. He wants me to hug him? Again, this is really sudden.

Screw it, it won’t hurt anything, right? It’s just a hug. I hug him.

He squeezes a little too tightly and wouldn’t let me go for an almost awkward amount of time, even when I try to pull away.

I pat his back to try to get him to let go. “That’s long enough I think. You might want to go before you and Hitoshi are late for school.”

He lets go. “Right! C’mon, little Hypno-man!”

“Little? I’m almost as tall as you.”

“But you’re not yet!” He shouts as he bolts out the door. Hitoshi quickly goes after him. It just leaves a silence between Eri and me. I shake my head at their antics and look at Eri. “Do you think they even left him a glass of water or something before taking off?”

“Daddy gave him water before. A long time ago.”

A long time ago probably means a few hours at most. I sigh. Better check on him then. I go towards the door of their bedroom and knock on it. He doesn’t answer. Oh well, he must not need anything that badly. No, I’m not just trying to stay away from him as much as possible.

I go to walk away, but Eri gently grabs my hand and leads me back to the bedroom door.

“Why do you keep staying away from dad?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to play dumb. She doesn’t need to know about adult things yet, such as not everyone will like someone. That should be their job to teach her. “Toshi and daddy notice you avoid him. He’s not mean though!”

Do I really have to tell her? Her questioning eyes are begging me to answer.

“It’s just… I don’t think your dad likes me very much. There will always be people who don’t like a person for one reason or another. I don’t know why your dad doesn’t like me, but I respect his decision and want to let him keep his space.”

“But dad doesn’t hate you!” She huffs.

That's a surprise to me. “Unless he tells me otherwise, I’m going to keep believing he does. And honestly, your dad kinda scares me.”

She looks away. “He can be kinda mean sometimes,” she looks back at me. “But he really cares for people!”

A part of me doubts it, but another part can kind of see it, especially with how he acts with Eri and Hitoshi.

I decided to try changing the topic. “I’ll check him in a bit. He probably doesn’t want to be bothered right now. Let’s go play with your stuffed animals for now.” I try to walk away again.

Yet again, she grabs my hand and drags me to the door. She opens it without knocking and makes me enter as well. I noticed the rather large bed before anything. It couldn’t have been a king. Definitely something bigger than that. It has a light red and black blanket covering the whole bed, including the paler-than-usual man under it. His eyes are open and looking at us, but surprisingly, he’s not glaring. I thought he would be from an interrupted entry…

I notice the empty glass on the nightstand next to him. “I’ll get you more water.” I then grab the glass and go to the kitchen. Eri stayed in the bedroom. While filling the glass, one of the cats rubs their head against my leg. The white eyebrows make me know who it is instantly. “Hey, Oreo! Why don’t you come to help your dad?” I ask him and shut off the sink after the glass is nearly full.

I pick him up with my free arm and carry them back into the bedroom. He immediately jumps out of my arms and goes onto the bed. Aizawa almost seems to grow a weak smile at the sight of the cat. I set the glass down back on the nightstand.

“Thanks.” He rasps, catching my surprise. I really wasn’t expecting him to thank me for it. He didn’t strike me as the type. He drinks some of it.

It’s quiet between us, and I want to do nothing but leave him be before the awkwardness gets worse. Plus, he needs all the rest he can get to heal faster. Or is the quirk he was struck with a time-based thing regardless?

Eri suddenly gets up from sitting on the floor and tugs me so she could whisper in my ear. “Talk to him!”

“I don’t think he…” I lock eyes with Aizawa who is surprisingly still not asleep and sigh. I have no idea what to talk to him about. What do you talk about to someone who has hardly ever said a word to you?

I then remember the explosive kid and nearly being hit. It’s worth a shot bringing him up I guess. “Had a close call with one of your students yesterday. Don’t know his name, but he nearly blew up my face if Midoriya wasn’t there.”

Despite his state, his eyes widen a sufficient amount.

“Toshi isn’t happy with him.” Eri pipes up with her arms crossed.

“No harm was done though, right? At least he didn’t hit me,” I shiver remembering his expression. “I’d rather not be in the line of his wrath again though. It’s terrifying to the point I almost feel bad for anything he goes against.”

“Bakugou.” He’s able to hiss it with annoyance. Okay, glad he doesn’t seem annoyed with me the same way he is with that kid.

Bakugou? Isn’t that one of the kids Midoriya told me causes the most problems in his class? “So he must be one of the kids you like to call “problem children”. Midoriya told me you call him that as well. Don’t know how he’s one, but I know if you call him that, you have a really good reason, so I’m not going to comment on it.”

“You seem rather… connected with Midoriya.” He says ��connected” like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Oh yeah! He’s a good kid. He comes around frequently with Togata,” His eyes narrow and my fond mention of Togata. He better not be getting the wrong idea, I don’t see either of them that way for obvious reasons. “It’s so great they’re able to wear dresses so comfortably. Well, Midoriya is still a bit uncomfortable, but we’ve been working on his self-esteem with Togata. I also still have to thank him for saving me from the Bakugou kid. I don’t think that could be fixed with him though from the feral energy he gives off.”

“Still have to-” he coughs. “Work on that then. He won’t be able to get anywhere if he keeps nearly injuring innocents.”

I smile at him. “I wish you the most luck with him then. You’re definitely going to need it.”

He replies with a slight nod and closes his eyes. Oreo climbs onto Aizawa’s chest and starts purring. He brings one of his arms out of the covers and pets Oreo. The cat’s purring gets louder in appreciation.

Eri lights up. “I’ll go get Mochi and Sundae!” She bolts out of the room. No! Come ba- and she’s gone.

For one stupid reason or another, I feel like confiding with him right now.

“You know, I hate to admit it, but I’m rather envious of you,” He quirks an eye open to look at me. “You have such a lovely family and a significant other that greatly cares about you. I can only hope to have a relationship like you and Hizashi in the future. It’s going to be so strange when I leave your family.”

His other eye opens to fully look at me. His eyes flash some sort of emotion I can’t read. Maybe I overstepped a boundary or said too much about myself? Shit…

“Uh… Sorry about that, Aizawa. That’s probably something stupid to go off about or to bother you with...”

“Shouta.”

“Huh?” I question, just to be sure I was correct in hearing him.

“Shouta. It’s-” he coughs again. “illogical for me to be the only one not called by my first name,” He looks at Oreo, then back at me. “You’re a part of our family. Even Oreo likes you. Sometimes not even I can pick him up.”

“A part of?... No, you’re thinking too much into it. I’m just a sitter that likes taking care of Hitoshi and Eri.”

He slightly shakes his head. “Same thing with Hitoshi. He’s never let anyone but us call him his first name. You’re different.”

I’m having a hard time accepting I’m special in any way. They must just be slightly delusional or something from having multiple bad sitters before. “I’m sure if you got a sitter similar to me, he’d have done the same thing with them.”

“Doubtful. For one, you’re the first that’s not us to not fear Hitoshi for his-” he coughs yet again. “quirk.”

Maybe I should make him stop talking so he can rest before more damage can possibly be done to his throat.

“I found Mochi!” Eri yells from somewhere outside of the room. She enters the bedroom, waddling like she did before with Mochi in her arms. He’s nearly being dragged on the floor, but only seems uninterested in helping her move. She seems to be having a slightly easier time than before carrying him. Not sure if he’s lost some weight, or if she’s gotten stronger. Maybe even both.

I laugh and go over to her to help her carry him. He’s still rather heavy. Heavy enough to cause a rather large dip in the bed when we place him on it. We place him down by Shouta’s feet. He doesn’t even move. Just flops onto his belly where he’s placed. I go over back by Shouta’s side, since that’s closer to the exit of the bedroom. I still feel like I’m intruding in their bedroom.

She immediately takes off again out of the room.

“Eri! I don’t think-” I’m interrupted by Shouta gently grabbing my hand. His hand is rather rough- probably calloused- and rather clammy. Most likely from him being ill. Uh… This is weird.

“It’s fine. The cats are a good distraction,” He lets it go before I can try to pull away. “That’s another thing. Even Eri bonded with you rather quickly. I’ve never seen her so happy to see someone besides us or Midoriya and Togata.”

I shrug. “It’s the previous sitters’ faults for not caring for her. She’s beyond adorable, and I honestly had the thought if something were to happen to her, I’d kill everyone in the room, then myself on my first day.”

He exhales his breath, almost like a chuckle. “Zashi says the same about you.”

I have no idea what to say to that. Oh! He must mean Hizashi would do the same thing for Eri, his mind is just mixed up on his words from his illness. Sounds a lot more logical than someone admitting they really like an adult they just met back then.

Eri comes in with the last and final cat, Sundae. He seems a little more uninterested in being in here than the other two. At least until Eri places him on the bed, and he sees the other two. He jumps onto Shouta’s stomach and tries to push Oreo off to take his spot on Shouta’s chest.

I can’t help but laugh. “You need a little help there?”

He grows the tiniest smile again. “No.” He pulls out his other arm from under the blanket and uses it to pet the other cat as well. That seems to do the trick as he stops trying to push Oreo off.

He coughs yet again. I feel rather bad he has to deal with it. “Would you like some tea maybe? It’s not cough medicine, but it might help your cough a bit more than the water is.”

He turns his head back towards us. His eyes again showing that unreadable emotion. “That's another thing. You’re caring. You’ve respected us the most. You didn’t even try pushing me to tolerate your presence, just accepted it.” Okay, that’s enough talking from you, you need to rest more. I swear, if he’s the type that suddenly has the urge to clean the house when sick… I’d do absolutely nothing. I obviously can’t do much against a man with years of grueling training, even when he’s sick. Might have Eri help me scold him though.

“I’ll get the tea. And do us both a favor, stop talking for now. It’s honestly great hearing you talk more for once, but now is really not the best time.”

“No promises.”

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

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, other than checking up on him a few other times. With how frequently he talked, I started to wonder if he and Hizashi somehow swapped minds. He must be one of those odd people who seem to be more talkative when sick, as clearly found out.

Leaving their house, my body freezes at the familiar feeling of being watched. For a moment, I wonder about going back into their house and asking them to bring me to my home. No, I can’t do that to them. They've already had a long day.

… At least, that’s how I felt at first. But the farther I walked, the more I wished I did. Fuck, the feeling won’t. Leave. Taking out my phone, Hitoshi is the first one to come up in my contacts.

“Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you around here. Heading home, huh?” Asked a familiar voice behind me. That feeling was still around, but just knowing Tadao was with me helped. I turn to face him. His hair was… Glowing green? It made him look like a glowstick, and made me wonder how I’ve never seen his hair do this before. Never met him in the dark though.

He laughs at my expression. “Mold isn’t the only thing my body can absorb. It can also do the same with fungus. Found out years ago I can make my hair glow from the bioluminescent fungus. Cool, huh?”

I smile at him. “Definitely! But you know I now have to call you glowstick, right?”

He groans. “Man, was really hoping to escape that, but I guess it’s deserved, huh?”

“It really is your fault if you don’t naturally have it.”

Because of his glowing hair, it was easy to tell he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, wanna walk with me back to the apartments? Just got off of work myself today.”

“Well, it would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Yep.”

We start walking.

“How’s Ryo holding up?”

He sighs. “Not well. Really starting to question their mental state. They told me this morning they don’t even want to talk to you for a few days.”

My face quickly becomes a frown. “Seriously? They’re going to act like this now?”

He shrugs. “Try not to let it get to you. We both know they can be overdramatic at times.”

I sigh. “I hate that you’re right.”

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Tag list-

@angelicblackwolf

here ya go. hopefully it works!

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 (𝐈𝐈)

Authors Note: You'd have to read part (I) of young and beautiful for this one. Where Harry meets y/n, their beautiful future together after that incident, pregnant y/n, helping harry during the birth of their babies and most awfully heart floppin' dad!harry.

The door knob jiggles making your silent gasp drone into leeway around and your eyebrows rockets to your forehead when you find a gold fishy eyed Harry slippin' outta his shoes, two coffe cups, a brown bag and a lil white stuffed bunny clutched in his large hands. He gives you a weird eye 'yeh okay?' ones when you gnawed him with parted lips moreso from the fact your nose's clogged, shaking your head when he gives you another glance while puting things down on the marble coffee table infront.

"Thought I left yeh'?" His voice melfious of that of mornin' dew and when you nod confirming, he takes two strides towards you placing the back of his calloused soft hand against your forehead. His touch causing your breath to hitch unlike the last night when you were too sick to consider anything else.

"Could never darlin'. No' when you're like this. brought some donughts and caramel coffee, then ye'll 'ave your medicine."

You peer up at him and he's already gazing down at you with a glint that's hard to catch. "Thank you Harry." Your voice comes out as a whisper, neitherless He smiles at you genuinely handing you the cup of coffee. His knuckles brushing your finger tips and you swear the nebula in your brain bursted to million stary dust particles.

After making you take your dose of medication he cleaned around quickly tripping onto your suit case which made you cackle sweetly and Harry's heart blossomed with flowers of new-found happiness. You're guilty of gate keeping him to yourself and at the same time you're seekin' comfort in his presence. Your arms falling in your lap when you tried to brush stubborn tangles of your hair with a huff and Harry offers you his help scooting behind you, his fingers carefully tugging the knots while he expertly brushed your hair. He braids your hair and all you could do's stare him from the tall mirror infront of the bed.

"You're so good at this, Harry." He giggles when she admires her braid with a shocked expression and giving a squeeze to your shoulders he stands up leaning down to take a look at some books scattered at the oak dinky desk.

"If we were villains, the night climbers, the raven." He mouths the name of books tracing the instrinsive letters carved onto it, "can I read one of 'em?" He asks politely and you bob your head.

"'Course y'could." He gets comfortable against the headrest and the pillows swallows you beside him. Your body's itching to snuggle into him. With hands under your head you watch him giving all his concentration, his eyes raking along each line, cherry lips murmuring the words and jaw ticking whenever he would lick the pad of his finger to turn the page around. Carelessly he slides his arm under your figure and you're gaping at him until he looks down at you and realizes what he has done. He tries to apologise but stops when you cuddles into him with a non-sexual moan. Three pages after you've litreally crawled up his torso like an insect but he's lovin' it. He missed this warmth. This calm. When for the hundredth time from the morning he looks down at you it causes both of your hearts to flutter.

On an instinct he attracts towards you. Your eyelids slip shutting when his hot minty breaths fans your cheeks, his knuckles pudging into your flesh, book flopped open onto his chest. When his temple rests against yours, your heart found your home.

"We can't. Don't want you sick bub." You grog out stroking the corner of his lips and he whines but nods smauching an affectionate kiss to your temple. You could cry from the proximity. Minutes passed by as you stayed like this at last startling when a loud knock echoed in the comfortable silence you were enjoying.

It was your friend asking about you and apologising that he was so hungover that he forgot about you. Harry felt a twitch in his heart. He's jealous. He gets jealous very easily. He stands up when your friend assures him that he'd take care of you.

"You can take it with you...if you want to." You points to the book and he just gives a curt nod.

"I'll return it tommorrow, jus' call meh if yeh wan' me kay?" Your friend becomes like a ghost at the moment and you feel like a shining star under his piercing gaze. "We're going back tomorrow." Harry felt something cracking inside him at the information.

"Oh." He says monotonely pinching his lower lip, "then I'll bring it back to you next mornin'." He gives you a timid smile knowing damn well he just needs an excuse to see you even if it's for the last time.

"I'll wait for you."

You waited as you promised but he never came. Then you found yourself in clinical seats of airport and Harry's tumbling through the lobby of your hotel, he asks for you from the receptionist groaning when he gets to know he fucked up.

Sighing you stand up, rolling your suit case when the lines calls for passengers and you glances back last time but didn't found him. Those were your lasts. You thought.

Then his beautiful voice billowed to your heart in the admist of crowd and you spin on your feet leaving your luggage behind. He's waving the book atop his head, chest heaving, eyes sheened and when you flight like a dove in his arms his breath hued with happiness.

He corners you. Cupping your cheeks genially. He admires you for a complete moment before he speaks kissing your eyelids.

"I want you, it's bad." He announces the severity. The lump forming in your throat and not giving two fuck, becoming a selfish asshole you slotted your lips against his's. He doesn't retreats back instead deepens the kiss and tastes your mouth ignoring the bitterness of medicine on your tongue. A huge grins dances at your lips when you pull back, you take his hand and writes down your address. "Return me this when you reach back and complete it." If were villians such a good excuse for two soumates.

When you were really about to depart from him he tugs you back from the wrist and squishes you close to his heart, pecking your lips for last time.

"Will meet ya soon."

Week passes by and he's back in London the first thing he does is drive to your place and your flatmate told him you went back home. Harry's knees weakened, and tongue tied with a wrenching heart. How could she! He mutters furiously pitying himself.

Two weeks and daily visits of Harry but you're still not back.

"Hm. what's with this book loverboy, is it magical?" His mother teases him and he shakes his head timidly. The book's always in his hand, sometimes he's tucking a jasmine bud from his mum's backyard into the spine of book another a ribbon of silk somewhere between the lost pages. He lost you. Can't do same to words you devoted to him.

Then one morning a package was laying at his porch. He gives it a stink eye but takes it inside. Gemma's chewing onto her pancakes watching him with the corners of her eyes as he unboxed the maroon box. The note resting atop the kashmiri shawl and the Bullah Shah's poetry book makes Harry gasp loudly.

"And what if I say even at home, I missed home? I'll be waiting for you. Yours Y/N."

His eyes brims with glossiness when he sees that 'yours.' He takes the note close to his heart as he grabbed the leather copy. He sucks his bottom lip inside his mouth when his eyes fell over the writing and it matched the ones on the note. You translated a whole book of poetry from Punjabi to English, for him.

The sprinkle of black ink on the gruff yellow pages so precious to Harry.

He wastes no time leaving a clueless Gemma. His knocks are furious at your door and when you appear from behind it his heart stopped. You smile against his lips when he greeted you with nothing but a kiss he was longing for ages.

He has completely fallen in love with you. He despises the distance you both have in between.

"God knows 'ow much I missed ye'. wanna be mad at ye' but can't when I could finally love ye'."

✰𝑨𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕✰

You're changing sides again and again onto king size bed in your deep slumber. Coddling into Harry's arms, your bump practically resting heavily atop his tummy and he couldn't be more cheeky for it, you tangle and untangle your legs several times making him groan in his sleep when you rolled to other side of bed in your sleep. In the wee hours of dark night he blindly tries to find you to pull you back in his arms when his hand soaked wet pressed agaisnt the sheets.

Red alarms going off in his brain and he shots up quickly. He brings his shaking hand infront of his face and blinks the splotches in his vision. Your water fucking broke.

His breath wavered as he rolls you to his side. You grunt when he strokes the apples of your cheeks and kisses your forehead. The babies weren't supposed to come at this time, your due date's two weeks.

"Lovie'." He whispers trying not to frighten you at all and when you hissed loudly mistaking a contraction with braxton hicks panic rises into his chest and all over his face.

Shoving down his anxiety he cradles your face lovingly. He could do this. They could do this. They've been waiting for this precious day for eight and a half month. He can't wait to meet his two angels. He gives himself a pep talk and smiles down at you with whole courage when you frown at him.

"What's it Harry. 'M too tired, go back to sleep." You didn't felt anything while breaking your water unlike it happens in movies.

"Look meh in eyes puppy, yeah?" He smoothes down your frown and kisses the tip of your nose. "Take deep breaths fo' me." You look him in confusion as if he's gone mad and when you tries to sit up with his help an agonising yelp leaves your lungs. Your first painful contraction.

Harry grabs your jaw instantly and wraps his strong arm around his babies inside his bunny's womb, "baby stay calm. yer water broke. no biggie kay?" He wraps you in his arms when you shake your head in disapproval both of you sitting on wetness. As if he gives two fucks.

"No. They weren't supposed to come, yet. I'm not prepared for this. no." He wipes your tears doing anything in his power to be there for you, if you'd zone out mentally for him it would get so difficult for him to handle the situation.

"Yes. You're. We're. C'mon puppy my sweet woman our babies couldn't wait to meet us, please." When he adds a please you cry more but bobs your head and Harry sighs in relief carefully getting down on floor. "Don't leave!" You squeak when you literally felt your spine breaking.

"'m not baby, 'm not just taking the baby bag that's all." He quickly rushed inside the wardrobe and snatches the bag from cabinet, his heart beating so fast he could feel it pulsing in his ears.

He squats down slipping your feet into the socks he knitted for you at Christmas, he kisses your soles and you close your eyes latching onto his shoulders screeching painfully when series of contractions kept on crushing you.

"S'okay. 'S okay." He says more to himself bunching your white nightgown to your thighs, your whole weight on him and you grip the stares railing with wide eyes.

"It's impossible. Oh my lord."

"I'll carry you downstairs."

"No. No." You panic because what if you both trip. You know he could carry so much weight than imaginable, he built his arms so strong—but.

"Trust me please, I'd never let any harm touch the three loves of my lives." You nod and gently he snakes his arms under your knees and your back, hands protectively holding you close to his chest. He smiles through the anxiousness when you continuously prayed in his ear.

"You're such a minx." He laughs on the top of his lungs in amusement as you sucked the plastic spoon against your tongue. Halfway through the hospital ride your contractions stopped so you demanded Harry to buy you frozen yogurt.

"Your babies are! Always want to have sweets, went on their daddy." He shakes his head ducking down to kiss your lips then the puckering belly button of yours.

"Fuck I love you so much it's hard to put in words." A second later he adds with a beaming grin, "and my two lil smol beans."

You offer him yogurt with big eyes but he refused. He's sweating down his damn arse to eat anything at the moment.

"Distract me, please." You whisper to him turning to face him as the nurse brought your injections. He quickly lulls your face in his warm palms from all your clutching. "Um. Wha' d'ya think which one will be Suri and which one Roselena?" His thumb's continuously running in circles under eyes.

"The elder one will be—Ah! fuck." You scream grabbing his wrist when an electrifying jolt shrivelled inside you. The doctor just went after checking your cervix and it's almost there.

He tries to make you breath doing the action an it's no use. You roll your eyes, sweat dripping down your forehead even in such a wintry month. If he would know what it feels like.

"Fuckin' hell. 'M never letting you put your dick inside me, what the fuck!!!!" You yell squeezing his hand and the poor Harry's so lost he listen to you like an obeying kid patting sweat from your exposed chest with a towel.

"Y/N push on the count of three, you can do this." Doctor says. It's been half an hour, you've been pushing so hard that all your energy's draining. Hair sticking to your neck, hands shaking by side other almost fracturing Harry's, and he leans down to look in your drowsy eyes.

"Baby you can do this, for our babies, for us." He kisses her forehead and wipes her flowing tears. She sniffs bucking a little and pushing with her all might.

Harry feels like his heart's blossoming into garden full of roses when the doctor announces, "we can see the head of first baby. Push more." You scream loudly with gritted teeth pushing with your all mighty and the room echoes with tiny cries. You sob and Harry stares his elder daughter having a wrap of blood on her delicate skin as doctors called him to cut the umbilical cord.

They take her to nursery to give clean her and Harry's again by your now grinning widely but it soon vanishes when he sees you crying silently, you're covering your eyes with your forearm. You hiccup feeling yourself drowning to darkness. Harry removes your arm and rests his temple agaisnt yours.

"I can't do this. hurts. tired." Your words broken and Harry wishes he could do something for his love.

"I know you can, you love her don't ya. Jus' fo' her." He interlaces his fingers with yours and this time he's the one to squeeze warmly. After, ten minutes of more pushing your second daughter was in this world too.

Harry brushes your hair back smiling down at you as if someone handed him the whole world. You tries to get rid of darkness in your eyes as Harry's words floods in your heart.

"'M so proud of you baby. my strong strong wife my whole fuckin' world. It's all beacuse of you we're blessed with two healthy daughters." This time he takes his time with you instead of immediately going to cut his baby's cord. They'd change the story while telling her so she wouldn't get sad that her daddy cut his sister's cord way more quickly than her's.

"No. No. Don't sleep puppy." He glances back worriedly at the doctors who still needs to push her placenta out. "I'm not...." She whines trying to open her eyes and since Harry has read more about pregnancies than he should doctors chuckles gesturing him to calm down that they'll pull it out themselves.

While you sleep peacefully after so long from exhaustion Harry keeps on gazing you with admiration. His lips mere away from yours. His cheek smashed on your pillow as he watches you lovesick and he feels giddy counting onto his reasons of happiness, that made him peck your lips.

He's hot on his heels when the nurse carried his babies to him and he gets excited and nervous managing to take both of them in his arms. He don't wants any of them left out from their father's first embrace.

His tear lands onto the sock covered feetsie of his baby (they aren't identical still he mixed both of them).

"Hi. Bunnies 's meh yer daddy. promise 'm gonna love ye' so much. " He cooes in dainty voice lulling them in synchrony. Awkwardly he manages to duck down landing kisses to their foreheads and he pecks the corners of their lips. "S' beautiful jus' like ye'r momma."

"Wanna see 'er? She's a sleepy head." He sits beside you and you stir adjusting your eyes to light. He shushes you. When you're fully awake Harry gives the elder twin in your embrace but you ask for younger one too.

They're carbon copies of harry. Milky rose cheeks, brown tiny luscious curls drowning at their necks, pointed nose and none of you have seen their eyes so you're anticipating.

"Did ya ever thought in the past we would be here with two babies of our own?" You ask him giving a glance down to your busy bees and he shakes his head butting his finger under his chin.

"No' when ya ghosted meh for whole damn month." At this you snort letting your head fall on you shoulder, "I promised to come back to you didn't I?"

He whispers in return kissing your cheeks "and you did."

You laugh through your sniffles when the twins latches onto either of your full breasts nursing themselves to milk. Harry grins, his eyes glossy as he pets their heads while they made cute sucking noises. He's gonna be the bestest daddy. He got so much love for them. Give them their all lovin' He didn't got from his own father.

"Hi Suri my big baby. Hi Rosalena my smol bubby. It's me, mummy and daddy." You announces to them happily kissing their small heads.

This time you stroke his cheek wiping a lonely tear and he kisses the inside of your wrist affectionately.

"I promise, will love ya with dire passion even 'm their ol' guy." You chuckle softly laying back after feeding them and Harry has put them in their cot. "Love me when I'm young and beautiful, not sure what I'll look like being a nana."

"You'll be the cutest ol' peach." He grins cheekily and you swat his bicep rolling your eyes.

***

Fun fact: Both, Suri and Rosalena means red rose but in different languages.

Please, please for the love of Harry reblog this and give your loads of feedbacks it makes me happy.

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

Text

Damsels, Chapter Eight: They Don’t Want to be Found

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder calls in to work the next day, too sleep deprived and mentally exhausted to function. After sleeping until nearly noon, he gets back in his car and returns to Philly. He checks into a hotel that’s just a few blocks from the club and then spends the next several hours trying to watch TV, trying to read, and jacking off picturing Scully topless. A short time later, he jacks off again, this time imagining what he’ll see tonight.

He isn’t really sure what he’s doing or why he’s here. The best excuse he can cook up is that she doesn’t have a weapon and he’s protecting her, but realistically he knows she can take care of herself. Is it really just perversion, that he wants to see her…exposed? What will he say if she spots him? He can imagine her level of mortification if she knew he was here, that he’d seen her, and he feels guilt churn in his gut. She might never forgive him for this.

He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t seem to stop himself from going back. He has to see her again.

Scully had lay awake for hours after Angel left, thinking about what had happened, wondering how it happened in the first place. She’s on a case, how stupid could she be? What if it comes to light that she’s become involved with a witness in the case? She might be suspended. At least then maybe they’d never ask her to do something like this again. What if Mulder finds out? Would he feel betrayed somehow? Would it turn him on?

Somewhere around 6 am, she had finally caved in and slid her hand down the front of her panties, groaning when she felt how wet she was. She swirled her finger around her clit, using her own arousal as lubricant, and imagined what might have happened if Angel’s phone hadn’t rung. Would Angel have touched her? With her hands, or her mouth? Maybe both. Would she have touched Angel? She was approaching the brink just thinking about it. She stopped suddenly, remembering something, and grabbed the bullet vibrator from her bedside table, switching it on and pressing it to her clit as she plunged the middle finger of her other hand as far inside herself as she could reach. Within 30 seconds she was unravelling, images of Angel and Mulder dancing in her head as her walls clamped tightly around her finger. Finally, she had slept.

She manages to sleep until nearly three in the afternoon again, then spends the day getting her nails done, reading, and devising a plan for how she might look through the files in that closet. Without knowing what’s in them, she has no way of gaging whether Ricky is likely to notice if she takes a few at a time and returns them later. Worse still, Lexie is working tonight and that gives any risk she takes the potential to blow the whole investigation. She’s positive that given one more red flag, Lexie will sing like a canary. The silver lining is that Angel won’t be at work for the next three days, so they can get some space from what happened between them.

The evening is mostly business as usual, and she’s a bit horrified to realize that this is becoming as dull and predictable as any other job. She lets her mind wander while she flexes and rolls over horny married men, wondering what Mulder is up to, whether he’s worried about her or even misses her. Part of her wonders if he might realize that his life is less complicated without her, and that he prefers it that way. She feels an ache in her chest, a bit further north than she has grown accustomed to, and realizes how much she misses him.

When he enters the club, she’s at the bar. Half her torso is resting on the bar top as she shouts to be heard by the bartender, who’s laughing at whatever she’s saying. The position she’s in pops her barely covered ass out prominently behind her and his eyes go big at how exposed she is, and how comfortable she seems with it. Her bare breasts are smushed against the lacquered countertop and he feels his cock twitch thinking about how hard her nipples will be when she stands up. Unfortunately, it would be too risky to stick around and find out, so he tugs his ball cap lower and finds a table in the back. The dancers never seem to come back here for some reason.

He keeps his head trained towards one of the other dancers at all times, while his eyes follow Scully’s every move. If he knows one thing, it’s that Scully can feel his eyes on her, so he needs to be careful. His disguise is painfully basic and all it would take is one solid look for her to know it’s him. He watches her give a lap dance to a blushing young woman, a soft smile on her face the whole time, and he can’t decide if he’s more turned on or touched by how hard she’s working to make the woman feel comfortable. The aching hard-on in his jeans suggests the former.

This time he’s mentally prepared for her stage set, and also realizes she can barely see beyond the tip rail with all the stage lights on her, so he lets himself enjoy it. He’s known from the moment he met her that Scully is beautiful, sexy, incredible in every way imaginable, but he never could have imagined her moving like this. She’s so graceful and captivating. He lets himself block out all the other jerks who are leering at her, stuffing bills into her underwear, and just watches her. His Scully. She’s ethereal.

“Seems like you’ve found your ATF,” a voice to his left startles him from his reverie.

“Huh?” he turns to see the same waitress who’d served him last night, clad in a fishnet body suit.

“You were here last night, right? You like Desi?”

He panics. “No! I mean, yes. But, don’t send her over here or anything.”

She nods in understanding. “You like to watch. That’s cool, whatever floats your boat, man. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah, can I get a Captain and Coke?” He walked here, why not enjoy himself, right?

Four drinks for him and ten lap dances for her later, he stumbles into the balmy night and back to his hotel room where he jacks off again. Twice.

Everyone is trickling out slowly at the end of what has been a busy shift. Scully takes her time counting her tips, sharing a cut with her bird dog and the bartender on shift tonight. While she would not say that she likes working here by any stretch of the imagination, her coworkers at the club are her only source of socialization and (with the exception of Lexie) she truly enjoys their company. She’s helping one of the custodial staff, a wiry young man they called Don Juan, put up the chairs on the club floor so he can mop when Ricky approaches her.

“Desi, can I see you in my office, please?” He has a somber demeanor that concerns her.

“Um, sure, of course.” She bids the young man farewell and follows Ricky down the hall. He closes the door behind them and she feels her heart start to race.

Ricky sits down behind his desk and motions for her to take a seat across from him. She’s reminded of her first day here and the feelings of fear and anticipation.

“I need to ask you something, Desi, and I want to make sure you don’t mention it to the other girls.”

“Okay,” she responds, taking shallow breaths to obscure the fact that she’s afraid.

“Angel told me what happened.”

Her mouth falls open but no words come out. Is she in trouble for kissing Angel?

“That’s why she was so upset the other night, when you saw her in here. She told me that she’d talked to you about her past a bit,” he shakes his head ruefully. “Some gall those dirtbags have, shaming her for being sexual in any way, then coming to a titty club on the sly.”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Right, yes, the people who came in. She was very upset. “

“It was really nice of you to spend some time with her after work. Anyway, I gave her a few nights off. She needs a break.”

Scully nods. “You wanted to ask me something?”

“Right! So, Angel is my right hand gal, she helps me with a lot of stuff around here. With her being out, I wanted to ask you to kind of be her backup, if you will.”

For a moment she’s afraid Ricky is asking her to perform some kind of sexual favor, but she recalls that Angel had said he’s gay. “What did you have in mind?” she asks hesitantly.

“Well mostly, I wanted to give you a set of keys for the club. Angel has one, in case something happens to me and I’m not here to open and close the doors, stuff like that.”

A set of keys? Scully feels a flush of adrenaline. “Of course, I can do that.”

“That’d be great, Desi. I know you haven’t been with us all that long, but you seem pretty trustworthy, at least compared to the other girls. Like I mentioned, I’m hoping we can keep this between us, just so there are no hurt feelings from anyone who’s been here longer than you.”

Her heart is pounding with excitement at the opportunity to gain access to those files. “Is there an alarm code or something I should know about?” She recalls a sign on the door for ADT.

Ricky dismisses her concern with a flick of his wrist. “No, nothing like that. I should get one, but I just pilfered those signs from my buddy to scare off vagrants.”

She nods in understanding.

“Ninety-nine percent chance nothing will happen and there’ll be no need, but thanks for being on deck, just in case,” he says as he hands her a playboy bunny shaped keychain with a single key dangling from it.

Scully smiles at him. “I’m more than happy to help.”

After she leaves the club, she first goes home to stash her tips and change into comfortable, dark clothes, and then gets a big cup of coffee and a disposable camera from the 7-11 near her apartment.

By the time she’s lurking in the corner of the club’s parking lot, watching the door, it’s nearly 4am and there’s still a light on inside the foyer. She sips her coffee and waits, shuffling her feet to keep warm. Finally at 4:50, Denny and Ricky emerge, locking the door behind them. After they leave the parking lot, Scully waits another 20 minutes before she creeps around the perimeter of the lot and approaches the door. Glancing around to be sure no one is watching her, she turns the key and steps inside, locking it behind her.

The quiet stillness is eerie in contrast to the throbbing hive of activity it had been earlier in the night and she flicks on her flashlight, making her way to Ricky’s office. She fits the same front door key into the lock and sighs in relief when it turns. Ricky’s security standards aren’t incredibly high, apparently, but in this case it’s to her advantage. She tries the key on the hallway closets just in case, to no avail, and returns to the office. Navigating to his desk, she pulls open drawers quickly, scanning their contents. Nothing is of interest, and she’s disappointed though not surprised that his keys to other areas of the club aren’t in here. That makes things more challenging, but not impossible. She’s spent her days off at the library researching how to pick locks, including buying a lock picking kit and some padlocks at the local hardware store to practice with, and she feels relatively confident she can get this door open without a key. She might just have to be the one to pick the lock next time she and Mulder have the need. She smiles to herself knowing how impressed he’d be.

Back in the hallway, she pulls the small lock picking kit out of her back pocket and kneels in front of the door, the pen light perched between her teeth. She studies the lock and then inserts a torque wrench at the bottom, turning it slightly to put resistance in the direction it will spin when unlocked. From the kit, she selects a straight, flat pick and runs it from back to front at the top of the keyhole a couple times. Next she exchanges it for a pick with a curved end, pushing it as far back and high as she can reach as she holds her ear close to the lock in the stony silence of the hallway. Bumping against the pins inside the lock, she listens and feels for a small click or give that indicates the pin has settled in its unlocked position. She continues this until she counts five pins clicking into place, then removes the pick and turns the torque wrench.

The lock releases with a soft click and she laughs out loud as the door swings open, beyond pleased with herself. Stepping into the closet, there’s enough room for her to close the door behind her and she does so, pulling a cord to turn on the overhead light. Taking stock of the beige bank of file cabinets, she works top to bottom, left to right, and immediately feels her heart sink when the first four drawers she tries are empty. Would this be yet another dead end? When the fifth drawer snicks open, she sees a small set of files hanging towards the back. She quickly checks all the other drawers so she’ll have a good idea of how much material she has to review, but they’re all empty.

She pulls the files out and sits down with them on the floor, setting the disposable camera near her thigh. There are eight folders nestled inside the hanging file, each one with a set of initials on the tab. The first one is marked “G.A.” and inside she finds an intake form, a personal statement that’s filled out by hand, and a release of liability form. The intake form is sparse and includes nearly no identifying information. The name is listed as simply GA and the fields below it include “entry date,” “exit date,” “reason for sheltering,” and “responsible individual.” On the form for GA, the entry and exit date are both a year and a half prior, about six months apart. Reason for sheltering is listed as “threat of violence-domestic,” and the responsible individual reads “brother.” She turns to the second page, which contains GA’s personal statement.

Continue Reading Here

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #x files fanfic #case file #case fic

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httpswwwtbhkcom · 4 years ago

Text

I Finally Get to See You Again

[Oneshot/Imagine]

Pairing: Norman x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Summary: After Norman was shipped, you were devastated. You had grown a liking to the said boy. You and the others were having a hard time accepting Norman ‘died’. While in the naked eye, Isabella thought all of you weren’t planning to escape. The night before Ray’s shipment, half of your siblings escaped, leaving the younger ones with Isabella. It was difficult finding William Minerva and his shelter. Along the way of your journey, you found new friends that you could call family and the person you thought you lost.

Warning: Manga spoilers, some wrong grammars, some changes, mentions of death, Angst, happy ending,

Genre: Angst, Fluff, timeskip Norman, other timeskip characters, younger Norman and other characters,

Keys:

Y/n- your name,

A/n: If your asking, I’m still in hiatus. This had just popped into my mind when I was reading the manga.

This was longer than expected...

Reader: Neutral

Colored by: ???

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You and Norman had a mutual liking to each other. It was obvious except for the both of you. The whole family kept teasing both of you when your both in your separate ways. You don’t have the smarts of the trio but your grades is as almost as high as them.

You always play with your siblings when your allowed to go outside. You were a great hider and seeker, your determination never goes unnoticed by the white haired boy.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

After Conny left the house, she left her stuffed animal. You, Emma, and Norman decided that you three would give this to her before she left.

You three tried on finding Conny at the gates of the orphanage. You three first noticed a truck. Emma called for her, telling her that she had forgotten her Little bunny.

You were curious on what’s inside the truck which was covered with a curtain. Curious, you moved it and stumbled back in horror. Norman and Emma immediately rushed to you and also saw Conny with a flower sticking out her chest.

You were going to cry until you three had heard footsteps. In a flash, you three hid under the truck and decided to eavesdrop. You decided on trying to see who they are and what they look like. You almost screamed once more when you saw them. Luckily, Norman covered your mouth before you could scream.

You, Emma, and Norman escaped in time before you three got caught. Once you three were in a safe distance. You were on your knees and cried. Emma did the same and hugged you. Norman looked horrified and sad as well at the image of your dear sister now dead. Discovering her corpse is what leads to the three of you to discover the orphanage's true nature.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Timeskip to Norman’s shipment]

You, Ray and Emma had tried to convince Norman to escape or at least to pretend he escaped. But he didn’t listen and accepted his fate. You and Emma were with the others while Ray was at the staircase. You tried to stop him from leaving but Norman only pushed you away and scolded you. It was noticeable that he was also hurt on leaving his family he had grown up with. It was more painful to him to leave his first crush, you were what made him determined on escaping Grace Field.

You sobbed as Norman cupped you cheeks, making you look at him. He kissed your forehead and told you it was going to be fine. The statement only made you cry more. “It’s time to go” Isabella told him, smiling. Norman nodded and gave her a small forced smile. He looked at you one more time before letting go. “Yeah.”. He stood up, leaving you alone crying.

You didn’t watch him leave, since it only pains you more.

After they have left, your siblings tried to comfort you. “Norman.... Norman..” You kept repeating his name. You were broken. You and Norman were so close, feeling someone close leave your life pains you.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

A few days had passed you stopped playing with the other children. They told you that he will be fine and that he would give us letters and tell us about the outside world. But you knew the truth, their words won’t heal you as much as before, but their attempts made you slightly smile and nod. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Isabella smiled as she looked you and Emma who was surrounded by other kids. She had thought she have finally stopped you all from escaping.

The thought of Ray’s shipment soon after Norman’s made you panic. Emma has been trying her best to escape for the family to escape with her. She wasn’t entirely hiding it to you. You didn’t know her plan, but you hoped that it works.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You and the others (Except for the younger siblings) were now running through the huge forest. Trying not to run into demons. “Luckily we have that guide with us. It’s such a huge help.” You muttered. Emma nodded, smiling. After being underground and leaving safely, you were relieved.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Skipping to when they found the B06-32 Shelter made by William Minerva since I forgot what happened before that]

“We’re here! B06-32.” Emma exclaimed, looking at the information from the pen. “But there’s nothing here...” Someone murmured. “What can we do? This is really... B06-32.” Emma commented.

“What does it mean?” “There’s nothing here!” “No sigh of any kind... Nothing at all...” All the hope gathered from them disappeared. ‘As smart as William Minerva. He wouldn’t show the shelter from the naked eye.. So that means it’s probably hiding here somewhere..’ You thought. “So, can you see anyone in the area? Any humans?” Ray asked. “I think there’s no one...” Nat answered.

“So Minerva isn’t here after all?!” “But why?!” They cried. You tried to reassure them that it’s somewhere in B06-32 hiding somewhere. ‘We came all the way here... For nothing? What to do...’ The others who didn’t hear you wondered.

“LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIREEE!!!” The younger siblings exclaimed, making everyone flinch at the sudden loudness. “He said he would be here!!” “He told us to come visit!!” “AND WE CAME AAALL THE WAY!!” They shouted. You didn’t stop them, instead, waiting for them to tire out. Once they stopped, “Feel better now?” Ray asked, crossing his arms. “Yeah!” They exclaimed, panting.

“Then calm down and listen.” Ray said, gathering the attention of the others. “If Minerva is the one going back and forth between the worlds... Then he won’t always be on the demons’ side.” Ray added.

“And even if the demons usually avoid these deserted areas... Imagine if humans just stood around like sitting ducks, or if they left obvious signs... They wouldn’t last long, right?” You continued. Ray nodded at your explanation. “Emma, the pen.” Emma handed Ray the pen. “Yesterday, I found out about the next part. The contents of the pen go on after what we had seen.”

“And what did the next part show?” Gilda questioned. “Nothing at all.” Ray answered. “To be more precise, nothing I could see.” You sighed in relief at the second statement. You almost thought you and your family will be stuck here forever.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked. “I couldn’t access the rest of the data. I’m sure I put in the right answer, but even then... No matter how many times I tried, I could only see as far as Minerva’s message from before. Norman too, couldn’t access the data in that house. I think that’s because... The pen will only show the next part once you bring it to a certain location.”

“You mean...” “Exactly, here in B06-32.”

Once you all cracked the code. It showed a map. “It worked!!” The young ones exclaimed. “But... What’s this..?”

“It’s a map... There’s an underground entrance! As expected.” You answered. “It’s around that area! Go look for it!” When the map showed ‘Welcome’ and ‘Unlocked’, the ground began shaking. “Ray! Look! Something’s happening!” Emma exclaimed in panic and alarm. ‘Here it is...’ You murmured to yourself.

Ray opened the trapdoor revealing a ladder and the underground shelter.

“It was really here after all...” “He wasn’t lying!” They exclaimed, making you smile and giggle slightly. Once your feet was on the shelter floor, you walked with the others to see rooms with numbers. ‘102,103...’ You counted the numbers placed at the door.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Once you saw the man. You immediately thought ‘His... His manners are just terrible!!’ You grimaced completely shocked. You looked at your siblings to see the same expression you have.

“Are you Minerva?” Emma asked, in a serious tone. “Nope.” The man answered. “Too bad for you, kids. I’m not William Minerva.” He continued. “Then please call him. We came all the way here in order to meet Minerva.” Ray told him. “He ain’t here. What a shame, huh? No Minerva’s around here at all.”

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ You wondered, in a shocked face. ‘So Minerva was really a dirty liar...!?’ “Calm down.” Ray reassured. “Clearly you know of Minerva, too. We need more information. Where is he right now?” Ray asked sternly. “No idea, Man!”

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Ray interrogated. “Who am I?! I’m your senior.” He showed a pen same as the one Emma, you, Norman and Ray found. “It’s the same pen...” Alicia muttered. “Senior?”

“Yup. Well, not from Grace Field, at any rate.” He showed his mark which was on his abdomen. “I come from a plantation called Glory Bell. I escaped it 13 years ago... With my colleagues. And thanks to this pen.”

“Same as us...” “He’s like us...” They muttered in relief, and shock. “That’s right. I’m just the same as you. Ended up here while searching for Minerva.” ‘Human beings like us... Living outside the walls!!’ You wondered. “How-ever...” The word made your smile you had falter. “When I finally reached the place for real, Minerva wasn’t around. I waited for him a hella long time, ended up living here, and no trace of the man. No way around it, Man’s a dirty liar.”

“Though, I gotta say I’m grateful for this shelter, y’know?” He added. “Everything’s provided for. Hurrah for my man Minerva!!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Here you are now, standing beside Gilda. Seeing that Emma had a gun pointed to her head made you heartbroken. ‘Will she die? Please no..’ You silently pleaded as tears threatened to fall. “Hand it over. Your pen, kids. Fork it already. I’ll be keeping it so that y’all with never step in here again. I don’t wanna anyone weighing me down. Sorry, but you guys will have to leave.”

“Well then, gimme your pen and get the hell away from my face. Otherwise, every single one of you is gonna die right here and now.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Timeskip to when B06-32 was exploded and Andrew pointed the gun to Alicia]

“IDIOTS! DAMN IDIOTS! I’M THE ONE WHO IS ALIVE! HEAVEN IS ON MY SIDE! AHAHHAHAHAAHAHA!” Andrew laughed maniacally. Emma shot his joints. Andrew ran to Dominic and shouted “I’LL TRAMPLE HIM TO DEATH

DIEEEE!!! YOU PIGS! YOU ARE BEINGS MEANT TO BE EATEN!” His loud tone in his voice attracted a stray demon. The demon opened it’s mouth and began eating Andrew. Andrew shouted in pain. You were scared but you exclaimed. “Now’s our chance, Run!!!” You shouted, running to the opposite direction of where the demon is and back to the previous place all of you were in.

“No way... Even Yuugo and Lucas...” “They’re dead...?”

“It was an honorable end for them... Protecting all of us until their last breath...” Oliver mourned. The others did as well. “Uuu...” You looked at Gillian, who was in the verge of crying. “UWAHHHHH!!!!” She broke down. The others looked at her, who was also in the verge of crying. Soon after, everyone broke down.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Ray shot an owl. “This is it.” Ray said, showing the owl. “This is... An owl?” Nigel was confused. You looked closely and said “No, look closely. That’s a camera.” You pointed to the owl’s eyes. The others gasped. “How do that guy know where this place was? How were they able to weave their way through the blind spots of the cameras at the shelter? This would be the answer to those.” Ray explained.

“This thing pointed out the position of our cameras and informed them of where the place we escaped to was at?” Pepe asked. “Most likely. I should have noticed this quicker. When I think about it, this thing had been getting closer and closer and following us...!” Ray cursed to himself for his mistake. “This place is no good either. We need to leave it behind immediately.” He added.

“Oliver.” Emma called. “Yeah.” Oliver nodded. He showed the note to the others. “Everyone.” He called out. “Lucas received one last phone call.” Relief washed over everyone. “Mister Minerva could still be alive...?”

“No, we can’t know that for sure.” “It could also be conceivably be one of the ‘supporters’ that are still living...” “An ally...!”

“It hurts...! I’m so frustrated...! Do we really not have a life where we can just rest once...!”

“No, we don’t. So in order to get back, that’s why we’re fighting. Before these two months are over, we’ll definitely change the world.” Emma reassured. “We can do it. We will do it!! For Yuugo and Lucas!” She exclaimed. “So to that end, we should go! As long as there’s hope, we can make it anywhere and everywhere. Let’s go with everybody! To the place that’s calling out to us!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

??? POV: (If you have read the manga chapter, you would know who it is. If not, I feel sorry lol.... Sorry)

“That broadcast. I hope it reached the shelter.” He said. “Yes, it had to have.” A figure told him.

“Let’s get started, James.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Your POV:

“7-3-5. 9-4-1. 10-10-7. 13-11-2. 21-8-4. 150-6-3.” “These numbers...” “It’s the same as before.” “Correct! It’s the code based on Minerva’s fantasy book.”

“Page 7, 3rd line, 5th word... ‘Go’. Page 9, 4th line, 1st word. ‘To’.” Emma murmured, concentrated on the code. “Oh yeah, I remember it now! We did that when we first found the shelter!!” The kid exclaimed.

“Now we put all the words together, and...” “What’s a Jaw of the Lion?” “How do you ‘Go’ there?” “Ah! I saw that on the maps, back in the shelter! When we were looking for the temple and the golden waters!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You were surprised and happy when you saw the younger ones’ abilities for over the years. You were always with Emma and Ray that you can’t always be with them.

“We can handle this trip, no problem! We all learned from Yuugo and Lucas!!”

“Everyone, Stay here! We’ll be back!” You shouted when you heard a noise from a demon nearby. “Y/n! Now!!” Ray commanded. “Roger!”

‘This feeling... It’s demons. There are demons around.’ You murmured when you ran with Ray and Emma. When the three of you were finally in the source, you looked in surprise as you saw 2 people. ‘Huh?! People?!?!’.

‘Who are they? Why are they here?’ You overthought, you were interrupted by Emma. “We need to save them!” She shouted. You took your arrow and began aiming for the demon’s eye. Once the demons’ were dead, Ray threatened “Don’t move.” While aiming at the guy. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Ray interrogated.

Unexpectedly, one boy turned around and went to his knees and bowing his head low on the ground. “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!” He shouted. You looked at him shocked. “I WAS SO SCARED-!! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE DEAD BY NOW, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE EATEN~!! THE GUNS THAT WE HAD BROUGHT WITH US, AND EVEN THE CLOTHES THAT WE HAD ON US WERE EATEN!!” He explained in a loud voice. “REALLY, THANK YOU. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!” He clinged to your arms (Since you were the closest) and thanked you. “OI, YOU IDIOT, GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF THEM!! TO DO SUCH A THING TO THE PEOPLE WHO SAVED OUR LIVES!!” The other shouted. Then something struck them.

You looked at them sheepishly, curious. “HUMANS!?” They backed away in shock. “THAT’S WAY TOO LATE! AFTER SUCH A LONG TIME?!” Ray and Don had both the same expressions. You giggled. “WE’RE SO SORRY! WE’VE BEEN RUDE TO YOU AGAIN!” Two of them apologized once more. “Ayy...! You’re voices are too loud!” “The enemy will notice us.” Both Don and Ray scolded. “So, Who are you? What are you doing here?” Emma asked.

“Right. My name is Jin. And this is Hayato.” Jin pointed to Hayato who has a bandana. “I can’t tell you all the details, but... We are working under a certain person to achieve a goal... And because of that...” While Jin was explaning, Hayato noticed the mark on your neck. “AAAAHHHHHHH!!!” Hayato shouted. “We told you that you need to stay quiet!!!” Don whisper-shouted. “Jin!! There people. NO WAY! They’re the Grace Field escapees!!”

“We’ve been searching for all of you. Under William Minervas’ orders!!!” They explaned. “Mister Minerva?!” You looked at them in disbelief.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Earlier, Hayato and Jin (Mostly Hayato) have been talking about William Minerva (Aka their boss). Everyone was shocked and impressed at William Minerva’s doings of saving many children.

“Your Boss, Minerva told you to search for us?”

“Yes! Did you receive the broadcast? After that, knowing that the shelter was going to be attacked, the boss sent us to scout for you... The boss was heart broken. He conveyed to me that he want to help you out and needs your power as well.” Jin answered. “Mister Minerva...” They murmured happily. “We heard the broadcast, and right now we’re headed to that place he told us about.” Oliver commented.

“Then all is well! By all means, let us guide you there. To our hideaway!! Our base has food, as well as places where you can rest. And that’s not all. We also have medicine and treatment facilities. It’s ideal for treating anybody that’s injured. Let us take you as soon as possible.”

“That hideout.” Hayato and Jin looked at you confused. “It hasn’t been found out by other demons or the Ratri clan, Has it? Even though you’ve destroyed several farms already...”

“Up until this point, we haven’t been attacked by the enemy.”

“Hey Jin, About how far from here is your hideaway?” Ray questioned.

“Uhhm, and what about the ‘Neck of the Giraffe’? Is it near there?”

“You mean ‘the lion’s jaw’?”

“No. That rock is just the halfway point. From there, the hideaway is about a 2 day walk. The exact location is unknown to all but a select few within our group.”

“Sorry for doubting you. I’d like to ask you for some information.” Ray said.

“But is it okay? Taking outsiders like us directly to your hideout.” Anna asked. “Of course! It’s what the boss wanted us to do. And because you are all our saviors!”

“Thank you.” Emma and Hayato shooked hands. “I look forward to working with you.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Emma, Anna, Ray and Hayato went to one of the enemy’s base since Cristy’s condition is unexpectedly changing.

Once they went back, you noticed that there was another person with them. You smiled as Cristy’s medicine was working.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Two days later...

You looked at the trees in surprise. “I can’t believe these trees!” ‘It’s a forest!” “But way bigger than all the others we’ve seen!”

“Is the hideout in there?” Oliver asked. Jin nodded. “Yes! We’ve almost arrived.” You were excited and nervous to finally find their boss and other children like you. “I’ll go ahead first to tell the boss about you folks! Jin, Zazie, show the way to our friends and keep ‘em safe!” Hayato said before he ran faster than a normal human speed. Everyone except for the said two was surprised at Hayato’s incredible speed.

“Here it is. This is our hideout.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Jin showed all of you the places and you looked at all of them in awe. ‘They all have smiles on their faces.’ You thought, smiling yourself.

“Welcome!” “Whoa! The fugitives are here, Dude!” “Nice to meet you!�� “Welcome!” The kids greeted. ‘This is the paradise that Minerva built...’.

The other kids gave all of you sweets, which you thanked for. Hayato came back and said “The boss wants to meet the leader!” Oliver nodded to Emma and she nodded back. “I’ll be back soon!” Emma waved. You all waved back and talked to the other kids.

You are lying if your not curious what Minerva looks like.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Emma showed ‘William Minerva’ the family. “This is our family now!” She happily exclaimed. “It’s gotten quite large. What a great family!” You know that voice...

“Hu.. Huh?! What do you mean?” “Wait what?? Minerva was...” “You’re alive!? The real thing?!” Everyone started to tear up. You weren’t looking for a short while, interested in the books. Once you heard them talking, you looked at them confused. “That kid is from Emma’s pictures..” “Eh?... But that kid was.” “22194, 22194.” Adam repeated. Of course! You remember that number!.

“NORMAN!!!” The kids shouted. “I’m so happy. You’re alive!! You’re alive!!!”

You looked at the trio happily hugging each other. It made your heart melt. “Where’s Y/n..?” He asked, hoping to see you in the big crowd of his family. The others who were blocking your figure moved for him to see you. You looked at him with tears in your eyes. “I missed you Norman!!” You broke down and tackled him.

Tears also started to fall in his eyes. He hugged you tightly and both of you were in the position for a few seconds. People looked at both of you knowingly that you both deeply care for each other. “I’m so glad you’re alive..!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Norman gave all of you of where your home is. And the four of you played chess and many more. You rested your head on Norman’s shoulder, Emma was beside you resting her head on your shoulder, Ray rested his head on the bed and Norman’s other shoulder,and Norman was resting his head on your head, holding your hand.

Norman hoped he could confess to you one day. And he knows he will. He just hopes it will be sooner than later.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

E/n: I kinda got lazy with this. So please bear with me.

#norman #norman x reader #norman x y/n #norman imagine #norman oneshot #yakusoku no neverland #yakusoku no neverland x reader #yakusoku no neverland x y/n #yakusoku no neverland imagine #yakusoku no neverland oneshot #the promised neverland #the promised neverland x reader #the promised neverland x y/n #the promised neverland oneshot #the promised neverland imagine #x reader

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coconutstars · 4 years ago

Text

Walking Away Part III

Part I part II

Pairing: Stiles + reader Summary: After having ignored all his calls, reader finally decides to hear Stiles out. The inspiration for this fic came from Wilson1128

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS Y’ALL AND THANK YOU FOR THE WONDERFUL RESPONSE! I’m literally a living crying emoji right now <3. I’ve finally finished part 3. This part was supposed to involve smut but I’ve decided to post that separately incase there’s anybody out there that, you know, wants to end this story here. A little angsty, a little fluffy. Each to their own, am I right? So, to clarify, THE SMUTTY MAKE-UP SCENE WILL BE IN A SEPARATE NSFW PART.4. That is, if y’all are even interested in that?? Let me know.

_____________________________________________________

There was no escape. You needed your books and there was no way that was going to happen without Stiles seeing you. Partly because the hallway was practically empty but mainly because he was leaned up against your locker, head ducked down, anxiously clenching and unclenching his fists. You hadn’t properly looked at him since the night you walked away from him. You’d avoid his gaze in the hallway, advert your eyes whenever he walked into a room and looked in any direction but his during your shared classes. But you were looking at him now. Really looking and it struck you how vulnerable he seemed. Almost defeated. A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. Pull him close, bury your face in the familiar curve of his neck and whisper that everything was okay.

But everything wasn’t okay. And Stiles wasn’t yours to comfort anymore.

Reluctantly you made your way over to your locker. As soon as he saw you, Stiles straightened up.

“Y/N” He sounded shocked, almost like he was surprised to see you. “What are you doing here?” you asked flatly, folding your arms over your chest. For a moment your eyes met, and a wave of emotions started seeping into your system. Hurt, longing, anger, comfort. You quickly fixed your eyes on a random mark on the wall. “I’ve tried to call you” he said in a low but clear tone. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other. “I know” “yeah, course...” his voice trailed off as he started drumming his fingers against his pants. That was usually a sign that he was trying to restrain himself from doing something he may end up regretting.

“Yeah, it’s just...” he began, really trying to hold it in but ultimately failing “when someone calls like… a thousand times, they probably have something important to say, you know?” There was so much frustration, despair and anxiousness in his voice you were genuinely taken aback. “Perhaps.” you said after a moment of silence. “but they might not deserve to be heard out”. Your tone was a lot harsher than you’d intended. Stiles looked wounded but nodded his head, it was a fair shot, and he knew it. “All I’m asking for is a chance Y/N.”

You thought for a moment. He’d tried to contact you so many times through texts, calls and notes you’d lost count. Ignoring him was hard. A part of you really missed him and it hurt like hell every time you had to delete a message or ignore yet another call. Perhaps if you talked to him, he would stop. All contact would end, and you could both move on. It’d be good for you. You’d eventually heal and meet someone new. Someone who could love you as much as you loved them. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. In reality you knew getting over Stiles would be impossible. You’d given him a piece of your heart and it would always be his, regardless if he wanted it or not.

Stiles was waiting for you to reply. You let out a sigh, already convinced you were making a huge mistake. “Fine, come over at eight”

Stiles showed up at 7.54. Although, you had a feeling he’d arrived on your street even earlier. Most likely parked somewhere out of sight, tapping the steering wheel restlessly as he waited for the digits on his watch to change.

He was wearing the dark red flannel he knew you loved, and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his dark jeans. “Hey” he said simply as you opened the door. You nodded in response and moved over to let him in before leading him up the stairs and into your room. You were standing across from each other, you with folded arms by the window and Stiles with his hands still stuck in his pockets by the door.

“What do you want Stiles?” He took a step forward. “I want to apologize”. His honey-colored eyes were looking right at you, his gaze so intense you had to shift yours. “Okay” you replied shortly with a shrug, you were trying your best to sound unaffected but, on the inside, you were dying. It had just hit you that this could be the last time the two of you spoke to each other. You needed to wrap this up quickly or you’d start bawling your eyes out in front of him and that was not an option. “Anything else? If not, I really have some homework to do” You snapped, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. He took another step closer. “I know you heard about what happened with Lydia at the party and-” You heart rate skyrocketed. There was no way in hell you were about to listen to him talking about hooking up with Lydia. You’d quite frankly rather stuff your ears with gravel and superglue them shut. “Yupp, Awesome. Good for you.” You interrupted, already on your way to usher him out of your room. “I wish you a both lifetime of happiness, thanks for stopping by” you rambled in distress, grabbing ahold of the handle. He placed his hands on your arms and spun you around. “Y/N shut up!” he said loudly in your face.

You silenced in sheer surprise. “Nothing happened between Lydia and me! Nothing!” Like a deflated balloon, you let out a breath and looked up at Stiles, the panic now turning into confusion. “She kissed me and for a moment, yeah, I kissed her back-” You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again just as quickly. You weren’t sure what was happening right now. Your state of emotion had shifted way to quickly for your thoughts and mind to adjust. “-But nothing happened” Your brows knitted in confusion. How could he say nothing happened if he clearly just admitted to kissing her back? You wondered if this was some kind of poorly thought up method to soften the blow of being dumped. “That doesn’t make sense” you said with a headshake. “Stiles, you don’t have to have explain. I get it. You want to be with Lydia.” It really killed you to admit the last part. You couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to get the words out. You’d barely been able to think it, so to actually say it? You had a feeling you’d pay for it later though. You’d probably end up under the covers ugly crying until your head hurt and your skin burned from all the salty tears spilling from your eyes. “Can you please just go now?” your voice was barely a whisper.

Stiles ignored your request and shook his head in frustration. “I don’t want her Y/N. I don’t want Lydia.” This time when you looked up at him your eyes were narrowed in skepticism. What was this? What was he trying to do? “I don’t want Lydia because I want you” he clarified. Your mind still refused to understand what was going on. “No, Stiles. You chose her, you chose Lydia” His face twisted in frustration, his hands gesturing to emphasize his words. “Uh. No. You might not remember this, but you left me. I didn’t choose because there was no choice to make!” He practically yelled the last sentence. “you literally just told me I loved Lydia and broke up with me” You broke out into a laugh that lacked even the slightest trace of humor. Your emotional range now consisted solely of annoyed and angry. “So, you’re honestly going to tell me that you didn’t want to reply to that text?” Stiles practically exploded. “No! I didn’t and if you hadn’t been ignoring me for the past 100 years you would’ve known that” “I’ve been ignoring you” you hissed through clenched teeth. “because you CHOSE LYDIA”

Stiles shook his head in annoyance and turned around as if to talk to an invisible audience. “Nice, awesome. I see we’re really getting somewhere in this conversation” He took a deep breath before turning back to you. “No” he said, his tone and gestures slow and clear as if he were talking to a child. “I do not want Lydia because I want you. I love you Y/N Y/L/N” This time it was your turn to look away. You were literally screaming inside. This was all you’d wanted to hear since the two of you broke up. A part of you wanted to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until your lips hurt. But a part of you was scared. The pain you’d felt lately was something you never ever wanted to feel again. Despite if he’d meant it or not, Stiles had hurt you. He’d hidden the text from you. He kissed Lydia, and even if he insisted it’d meant nothing it still happened. And it could happen again You thought about what he just said. I love you. You knew you loved him without a shadow of a doubt, but did he really feel the same? “Are you so sure about that?” you whispered, your anger being replaced with insecurity.

Stiles closed the distance between you, his gaze practically boring into you. Letting out a breath through your nose, you reluctantly lifted your eyes to meet his. His gaze flickered down to your lips before turning back to your eyes. “yeah, I’d say so” His voice was soft and raspy, like honey spiced scotch. You loved his voice. Always had. But there was something special about this particular tone. It was so smooth it automatically sent a warm tingle down your spine. His brow lifted slightly, his face only inches from yours.

“So, are we done fighting?”

Grabbing a handful of his shirt you pulled him to you, your lips grazing his.

“You tell me Stilinski”

His arms wrapped around your waist, a grin curling his lips before hungrily crashing against yours.

“Hell yeah”

Taglist: @maggiecc @lola-bunny-00 @classyunknownlover

#Stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles imagine #stiles x y/n #stiles x you #stiles x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #imagine stiles

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casuallyimagining · 4 years ago

Text

A Normal Wednesday

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Drunk Jungkook confesses something that Sober Jungkook has to reckon with.

Part of the Long Term Couples series. Read more here.

Jungkook was drunk.

Not too drunk. He wasn’t swaying or slurring his words or anything like that. But when he spoke, he was just a little too loud, a little too honest, and a lot too talkative. Somehow, he had convinced you to take him back to your apartment rather than the shared dorm where the rest of the guys could take care of him. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Jungkook stayed over often enough that he had a change of clothes in a backpack stuffed away in your closet, and you never minded having him around.

The problem was more that it was three in the morning, and you had a meeting with upper management--his upper management--at ten. And as much as Bang PD and Manager Sejin loved Jungkook and the boys, you weren’t sure you wanted to test how deeply that love ran.

“Please, Jungkook,” you begged, a soft fourth attempt to get him to quiet down. “I know you have off tomorrow, but I don’t.”

Reasoning with a drunk. The first sign of your apparent insanity.

Jungkook giggled at you, his bunny teeth peeking out from between his slightly parted lips. His head was resting heavily against your shoulder as the two of you lounged on your couch. You had given up on trying to coax him to bed an hour ago, choosing instead to attempt to placate him with a movie. If I can sleep through his snoring, I can sleep through a movie, you had told yourself.

Had it just been the movie drawing your attention, you may have succeeded.

Shortly after Jungkook legally was able to drink, you learned that he was a needy drunk. He didn’t just want your attention, he craved it, and he was willing to go to increasingly annoying lengths to get what he needed. Which is partially how you found yourself with an arm slung around his shoulders as he absent-mindedly played with your hand and told you about his day. It was all horribly domestic, and if it wasn’t 3:05 on a Wednesday morning, you would probably even think it was cute.

“Jin-hyung is surprisingly good at table hockey,” Jungkook said earnestly, tracing the heart line on your palm. “Even after I accidentally hit him with the puck.”

“I’m glad you had fun.” You stifled a yawn and rested your head against his own. “Jin takes those games far too seriously.”

You felt him nod against you. “It was fun. I wish you could have seen how bad Yoongi-hyung is at the games. He’s like… really bad.”

You hummed, attempting to close your eyes. It seemed that, now that he was done telling you about filming that afternoon, Jungkook was starting to calm down. You could feel your eyes start to droop closed, and you prayed that whatever higher power would take pity on you that sleep would come quickly.

A few moments of silence passed between you, the tv still playing the movie Jungkook had started and promptly forgot about. For a moment, you thought maybe he had turned his attention back to it--it was his favorite, after all--but when you ventured a peek at him, his gaze was in his lap. He had stopped playing with your fingers, his own tattooed hand now solidly engulfing yours. You closed your eyes again, snuggling in. If he was going to trap you on the couch, the least you could do was get comfortable.

Hopefully, he would sleep.

Unfortunately, that was wishful thinking, as not even a second later, Jungkook was whispering your name. You hummed in response, not even bothering to open your eyes.

“I’m really drunk,” he confessed.

“I know. Go to sleep.”

He started to play with your fingers again, but now, you could feel the nervous energy practically rolling off him. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re my best friend-”

If you could bring yourself to open your eyes, you would have rolled them. “I know, Koo-”

“But you’re more than that, too.”

“What?”

“I just mean that...” You felt him shift, and he mumbled a soft ‘I’m way too drunk for this,’ before continuing. “I just mean that… I dunno. I feel like there’s something more here. Best friends don’t do this.”

You opened your eyes just enough to see that he was gesturing to the space--or rather, the lack of space--between you. “Sure they do.”

“Then why do I get butterflies every time you walk into a room?”

Oh.

Shit.

“You’re drunk.”

He giggled at that, and he adjusted himself so that he could look at you while still laying against your side. You could feel your heart racing, and you hoped that Jungkook couldn’t feel it, too. Drunk or not, he would almost certainly tease you mercilessly about it.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t mind. We can still be friends.” Jungkook nodded, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying harder to convince you or himself that his words were true. He pulled himself closer to you, then, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “Promise me we can still be friends?”

You were speechless, but you held out your pinky to him. His longer one wrapped around it, and you could feel him smile against your skin as he shook your hands up and down. When he was satisfied with your pinky promise, he let you go, choosing instead to wrap his arm around your middle.

“You should get some sleep.” Finally, you could hear a hint of exhaustion in his voice. “You have a meeting in the morning.”

You had to admit: sleeping on the couch wasn’t your brightest idea. Your neck was sore, and you were pretty sure that the pain in your lower back would be there until you died. It didn’t help that extricating yourself from Jungkook’s grasp was almost more difficult than getting him to fall asleep.

He had woken up briefly when you tried to slide out of his iron-tight grasp, but thankfully, you were able to lull him back to sleep by playing with his hair. After that, it had been smooth sailing, and you were actually able to stop for coffee before your meeting.

Truthfully, you weren’t sure what you would be returning to. You had left a Post-It on his phone offering to let him ride out his hangover in your apartment since it would be quiet. But when you hadn’t heard from him into the afternoon, you wondered if he had just gone back to the dorm.

You hoped he wasn’t too embarrassed. Publicly, he oozed confidence. But privately, when Jungkook got overwhelmed, he tended to shut down, especially if he was feeling particularly unsure of himself.

As you drove home, you thought about what he had said the previous night. He was right, of course. The two of you never acted in a way that said anything more than ‘best friends,’ but it was the feelings behind the actions that mattered. And at some point, though you weren’t exactly sure when, the Jungkook-sized place in your heart had shifted ever so slightly.

You weren’t stupid. The man would make a great partner. He was handsome, sure, but more than that, he was kind, and he was loving, and he put the people he loved ahead of anything else. He cared purely,and unceasingly with every fibre of his being. When he hung around other people, you tried to pass off the pit in your stomach as jealousy that he was making new friends, but maybe there was something more to it.

When you opened your door, his boots were still where you had placed them neatly the night before. You weren’t sure if that made you more relieved or stressed. You kicked your shoes off and hung your keys and your bag on the hook in the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible just in case Jungkook was trying to sleep.

He wasn’t--or, if he was, he was failing. You found him in your living room curled up into the corner of your couch, a blanket draped over him. He was watching the movie from last night--Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind--and he was clutching one of the pillows from your bed. He must’ve grabbed it sometime after you left. Your heart fluttered at the sight.

You decided you were glad he was still there.

“How’s Clementine?” you questioned, leaning against the back of the couch directly behind Jungkook.

He hummed. “She’s in love. For now.”

On a normal day, he would have tugged you down beside him to finish watching the movie, or he would have paused it and followed you into the kitchen to grab a snack. But today, he sat still, his fingers twisting and untwisting the blanket, his eyes trained on the television. You sighed softly and ruffled his hair before making your way into the kitchen.

It wasn’t that you were disappointed. Really, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. But seeing him treat you differently stung a bit. You liked to think that your friendship with Jungkook was unshakeable--god knows you’d been through so much in six years. You were there to cheer him on at his high school graduation, for the highest of highs and the lowest of lows in his career, to help him make sense of the group almost disbanding. He hadn’t changed then, so it was hard to see him change now.

But he was still there, in your apartment. That wasn’t nothing.

So you grabbed a bottle of water and trudged back into the living room, just in time to see Joel and Clementine sitting on the steps on the beach in Montauk.

“Never liked this part,” you admitted, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch from him.

Jungkook hummed, and you could see him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “It’s sad. If only he could have shared his true feelings with her.”

“I think he does, though.” This topic of conversation was not new. You and Jungkook had discussed Joel and Clementine’s relationship before. “Maybe his life really isn’t that interesting.”

“But if he weren’t that interesting, don’t you think she’d notice?”

“Maybe not. He’s interesting because of her.” He turned his head to stare at you, but you just shrugged. “He’s a book nerd. He goes to work and goes home. His life only has meaning because she’s in it. That’s all.”

His brows furrowed. “Have you been watching this without me?”

“You wish.” You snorted out a laugh and rolled your eyes. “I don’t even like it that much.”

“Then why don’t you complain when we watch it?”

You could feel the tension in the room dissipate slightly. Whatever funk he had been in earlier seemed to have left the moment you started talking about Clem and Joel. You sighed, still trying to determine if you wanted to broach this subject.

You liked your friendship with Jungkook. He knew almost everything about you. It was nice. It was home. Maybe it would be better to just leave well enough alone. Then again...

“Because it’s what best friends do,” you said softly, crossing your legs on the sofa so that you were facing him. “Just like they stay up ‘till three-thirty in the morning listening to their drunk friend ramble about arcade games.”

He ducked his head and laughed sheepishly. “I’m glad you made it to your meeting on time.”

“Let’s not sleep on the couch again for a while. I woke up and I felt like I aged 50 years.”

“Sober Jungkook does not make promises for Drunk Jungkook.” He laughed, pulling his legs up so he was hugging his knees facing you. He fell silent, and you watched as, after a moment, his smile fell and the gears started turning in his head.

You gave him time to process his thoughts, your focus shifting to the final scene of the movie--Joel and Clementine in Joel’s car, listening to the tape of Clem’s memories.

“You know,” you began tentatively. “I’m a book nerd. I go to work and come home. My life really isn’t that interesting.”

Jungkook’s eyes met yours briefly, and after a moment, you could see the lightbulb turn on. “Are you saying that I’m your Clementine?”

“Not in as many words. And not exactly. But…” You shrugged.

“No.” His face scrunched up in disagreement. “No way. I’m not your Clementine. We’re nowhere near as-”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off with a sigh. “In the six years I’ve known you, I have been in your orbit. I’ve traveled the world because I have the happy misfortune of assisting Sejin-oppa and managing your social media presence. I go out because you ask me to. I stay in because you want to. I hang out with your friends, eat your favorite foods, watch your favorite movies.” You couldn’t help the small smile threatening to show itself. “My life would not be this interesting without you in it.”

You watched him chew on his bottom lip in thought. “So what are you saying? Because if I’m Clementine and you’re Joel… I’ve seen this movie, and I’m not sure I like how it ends.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it won’t end the same way.” You moved closer so that your knees were barely a foot from Jungkook’s shins. “We could try, and we could fail spectacularly. We could do nothing and fall apart anyway. It happens. Friends drift.” Gingerly, you took his hand from where it clutched his knee. You were quiet as you traced over the micro-tattoos that covered his skin. Finally, you took a breath and continued. “Or, we could try, and we could succeed.”

“I don’t want us to fall apart like Clem and Joel do.” His voice was soft, timid. You hadn’t heard him this scared since the band meetings in 2018 that almost separated the group.

“I have more faith in us than I do in Clem and Joel.”

“But what if we end up hating each other?”

“I can’t think of anything I don’t like about you right now.”

Jungkook smiled at that, and honestly, you were a little impressed with yourself. You didn’t think you had seen the movie enough to pull quotes like that out of your ass.

“But you could, though.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You could end up hating me because I’m-”

“You’re obnoxious. You don’t take no for an answer. You’re the loudest eater on this side of the universe. You get drunk and keep me up to three-thirty in the morning.” You laughed, surprised at how happy you sounded. “Koo, I’m already over the moon with you. You’re my best friend. If I couldn’t handle that, do you really think we would be here right now?”

“But what if it makes things weird?”

“Things are already going to be weird. We passed weird a long fucking time ago, bub. This shit here,” you poked his knee for emphasis. “Is uncharted territory. And there’s no going back.”

His brow furrowed, and you watched him chew on his lip again. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

“I’m fucking terrified,” you admitted. His eyes went wide as he looked at you. “But… god, I knew from the moment I met you that I would always be in your corner. I trust you, Koo. You haven’t let me down yet.”

Jungkook sighed, his bottom lip back between his teeth. He shifted, then, so that his legs were crossed, your knees pressed together. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

You weren’t lying when you said there was no going back. And if you were honest with yourself, you knew that if he declined, you would be crushed.

His dark eyes met yours, the little crease between his eyebrows appearing and disappearing as his focus shifted around your face. It was as if he was studying you, trying to commit things to memory.

“Okay,” he said softly, his eyes darting away from you.

“Okay?”

Jungkook nodded, leaning forward to grab your hand. It was quiet, the only sound being Beck singing “Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime” as the credits to the movie rolled. He shifted then, tugging you closer so you ended up leaning into his side. At first, you were a little surprised at how absolutely normal it felt to be cuddled up in his side. He slung his arm around your shoulders while casually searching for another movie to watch, and you tangled your legs together.

Perhaps things had technically changed, but it felt like just a normal Wednesday.

Read more of the series here

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungguk x reader #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungguk #bts

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lesdemonium · 4 years ago

Text

romtober day 7: misunderstandings

Rating: M Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 4319 Summary: Cirilla's new nanny, Mister Julian, is her favorite person in the whole world. Geralt's new boyfriend, Jaskier, is pretty high up there as well. No one realizes they might be the same person.

AKA: the nanny/parent au written by a nanny

a MASSIVE thank you for betaing to @boppinrobin. y’all have them to thank for how romantic this wound up being.

read on ao3

“Mister Julian says that the things we learn in school are very important but it’s also important to learn things outside of school. Like about rainbows. Did you know that any time light… ref… refracts it can make a rainbow? Like through windows or… or… Daddy, do you know what refracts means?”

Geralt hummed a little as he and Ciri walked. He thought that answer was enough, until his five year old pulled impatiently at his hand and Geralt looked down to see her frowning at him.

“I do,” he said, nodding a little. “Do you know? Do you want to tell me?”

“I do!” Ciri insisted proudly. She let go of Geralt’s hand now that they were inside their building and she ran to the elevator to make sure she could press the button first. When the button lit up, she gave Geralt a devilish smile and he pretended to be disappointed that he couldn’t hit the button first, much to her delight. “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe next time. I’m just too fast.”

“You are,” Geralt agreed. He nudged her into the now-open elevator. “Didn’t you want to tell me what refract means?”

“Yes! Mister Julian told me all about it! It’s when something makes light change directions! Like… like water! Or windows!” Ciri was literally bouncing in her excitement to share her knowledge and Geralt found himself grinning down at her, just before leading them both to the door to their condo.

“It sounds like you’re learning a lot of really cool things from Mister Julian,” Geralt said. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

“Mister Julian is the best. He’s the smartest guy in the whole wide world!”

Ciri attempted to drop her things--backpack, coat, art project and all--onto the floor, only to be stopped by a chiding look from Geralt. She huffed dramatically and picked it all back up and put her belongings back where they went. Geralt offered a quick “Thank you, Ciri,” but she had already moved on to go play in her room until dinner.

Dinner, of course, was filled with chatter about nothing but Mister Julian, but Geralt couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was nice that she enjoyed her new nanny at Yennefer’s. By the end of the meal, Geralt was pretty sure he wanted to meet Mister Julian.

Geralt thought it had to be a new level of pathetic to be stood up by your own brother, and yet here he was. He wouldn’t have necessarily chosen this bar for himself, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well order a drink, even if Lambert was a dick who didn’t bother to show up. Only a quick “something came up” text and some shitty joke about maybe Geralt could find someone to pull the stick out of his ass for him. Prick.

Geralt was halfway into his drink when someone sat beside him. He didn't bother to look--he was pretty sure the stranger was just trying to order a drink--until he felt the other’s shoulder knock against his.

“I’d love to give you a pickup line, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t go very far with you,” blue eyes said.

Turned out, the rest of him was just as beautiful as his eyes. Given the line the man had already paid him, Geralt felt no shame in letting his gaze drag over his company’s body, and Geralt had to admit he liked what he saw. The curve of his lips screamed mischief, and the cut of his shirt betrayed a deceptively muscular chest. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust.

“Perceptive,” Geralt answered, taking a long drink of his beer. His eyebrow raised as he met Jaskier’s eye again, and Jaskier straightened up as he settled into the stool beside Geralt.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man said, and motioned at the bartender. He ordered quickly, then turned his attention wholly back to Geralt. “So, does this statuesque masculinity come with a name, or do you prefer to brood your way to recognition?”

“Geralt,” he answered with a smirk. Geralt was pretty sure he had never been made fun of so quickly into what he was almost certain would become a hookup. He quite liked it.

“Geralt, the man of few words,” Jaskier grinned. He received his drink, and held it up, looking pointedly at Geralt’s beer until Geralt clinked the glass together in a wordless cheers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure, it turned out, was all Geralt’s. If Jaskier was bothered by carrying the conversation, he certainly didn’t show it. He seemed to even have a knack for pulling information out of Geralt efficiently, between stories. Geralt didn’t learn too much about Jaskier’s personal life--he didn’t think he would--but it only took a few minutes into their conversation for him to realize that he might like to.

From the moment he laid hands on Jaskier--in the privacy of Geralt’s own condo, as neither one of them was particularly keen on giving any unassuming strangers even a tame show--he felt indisputable chemistry. They didn’t have to discuss much to understand that they were on the same page about, well, everything. Even how they both liked to kiss, or the way they liked to be touched. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t perfect, and Geralt definitely had his hands shoved away from somewhere Jaskier apparently did not enjoy being touched, but it was about as close to electrifying as Geralt had ever gotten with a new partner.

“Jesus,” Jaskier panted as his head hit the pillow.

Geralt snorted into Jaskier’s sweat-sheened shoulder, but he had to agree.

When Geralt woke to find Jaskier still in his bed, starfishing and completely unbothered by another body, Geralt was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. He sat up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Jaskier was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I swear I normally don't do sleepovers without at least discussing it first,” Jaskier said, smiling sheepishly at Geralt. “Apparently you wore me out.”

“Apparently I did,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “It’s fine. Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs.”

Jaskier watched him for a moment, with a cautious smile, then nodded. “Breakfast sounds incredible.”

Nearly an hour later, they both were fed, dressed (though Jaskier scrunched up his nose at rewearing last night’s wrinkled outfit), and Jaskier leaned forward into the kitchen table, staring at Geralt.

“Would it be bold of me to request a repeat performance?” Jaskier asked. “Maybe even a meal that isn’t immediately following an accidental sleepover?”

Geralt hesitated a moment. He wanted to, more than anything, but.

“I have to let you know,” Geralt started, “so you can make a fully informed decision. I have a daughter. A five-year-old.”

Jaskier grinned, then bent down, disappearing beneath the table. Geralt watched, his head tilting as he puzzled out this bizarre reaction, and then Jaskier sat back up, a pink stuffed bunny in his hand.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked, his voice affronted, though he was still grinning and even managed to wink at Geralt.

“His name is Mr. Bun and he’s part of the family,” Geralt said, with a smile in return.

Jaskier left that morning with the clothes he had worn the night previously, a full belly, and Geralt’s number entered into his phone and a promise that, yes, they could try for dinner next time. Geralt found himself feeling almost as if he needed to thank Lambert for being a prick. He wouldn’t, though.

“You’re looking cheerier than usual,” Yennefer said as Geralt stepped back to let her inside.

“Ciri, your mom’s here!” Geralt called. “Do you have your bag ready?”

There was a bang from behind Ciri’s door, one that Geralt absolutely did not want to ask about, before she called back, “Yes! I just forgot something!” Geralt was pretty sure she was lying and that he should say something about that, but it didn’t seem like a battle worth waging when packing her bag was already going to take her time.

“Going to explain, or should I start guessing?” Yennefer asked, smirking at him. “Hm… there was a sale on ugly combat boots and you picked up a few dozen more?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Surely you could do better than that. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch,” he teased.

“Haven’t lost my touch, simply want you to get to the point. What has you looking so pleased?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, and even if Geralt wanted to deflect, he knew from the set of her shoulders Yennefer wasn’t going to just let it go. There was no need for him to, though.

“I have a date tonight.”

“You do? Well, tell me about them? What’s so great about this date that made you pawn off your daughter a night early?”

“You asked to have Ciri early. She’ll think you’re serious if she overhears you,” Geralt frowned. Yennefer waved an insistent hand back. “His name is Jaskier.”

“Mommy!” Ciri called, bounding out of her room and running straight into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer spun her around once before setting her feet back on the ground, and Ciri grinned up at her. “Is Mister Julian coming to see me this week?”

“Of course he is,” Yennefer answered, nodding at her. “He’ll pick you up from school on Monday.”

“Good.” Ciri’s voice contained every ounce of seriousness in the world, and Geralt had to bite back his laugh. Ciri did not like thinking that Geralt was laughing at her. Not that he blamed her. “I have something very important to tell him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hippos make pink slime instead of using sunscreen!”

Yennefer’s nose scrunched up and she glanced at Geralt, who shrugged.

“We spent this weekend looking up facts to tell Mister Julian. She picked that one,” Geralt answered.

“That is fascinating and adequately disgusting. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Yennefer took Ciri’s hand and her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. “Say bye to your dad, Ciri. We need to run.” She pointed a finger on her free hand at Geralt. “I expect to hear all about your weekend when you come pick her up.”

It wasn’t until their fifth date that Geralt took Jaskier home again.

Coming back for a hookup was one thing; usually people Geralt brought home left as soon as they caught their breath and never came back. Going on an actual date with someone, though, was different. Bringing someone he was actively dating into the home Geralt shared with his daughter was a whole other level that had to be handled extremely carefully. And slowly.

Luckily, Jaskier understood.

“It’s been so long, I almost forgot where you lived,” Jaskier said, grinning as Geralt opened the door for him. “I’m flattered I’m being invited back. I must be doing something right.”

Geralt snorted, then backed up to let Jaskier back into the condo. Jaskier followed after him, only to crowd Geralt against the door and bring him in for a kiss. Geralt’s arms wound around Jaskier’s middle, turning them both so he could close the door behind them, lest they give Geralt’s neighbors an unintended show.

“A lot of things right,” Geralt answered once they pulled away, and he lived for the way Jaskier beamed at him.

“Did you know,” Jaskier said conversationally, over the dinner Geralt had cooked for them, “that your daughter and my charge are the same age?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier and finished his bite. Jaskier didn’t often volunteer information about his charge. Geralt hadn’t pressed, of course, after Jaskier mentioned his job as a nanny on their first official date, and then followed up with “For confidentiality reasons, I can’t tell you much about her, but she is just the best.”

“I thought you didn’t talk about your charge with people you were dating,” Geralt answered. He put down his fork, as he was finished with his meal, and rested his hand on Jaskier’s leg.

“I don’t, but I would consider it, a bit, with a boyfriend,” Jaskier answered, and his hand hovered above Geralt’s, just barely avoiding contact. Though his tone was as even and nonchalant as possible, and he shrugged his shoulders, Jaskier wouldn’t look at Geralt; he was nervous. “And, well. I figured it might give you permission to talk about your daughter. And know that you’re not going to scare me off if you do.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He captured Jaskier’s still-hovering hand and entwined their fingers. Geralt waited until Jaskier met his eye again, then smiled. “I suppose telling my boyfriend about my daughter makes sense.”

“I’m just wondering what sort of name Jaskier is, anyway,” Yennefer said.

Geralt rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look, but Yen only grinned wickedly back.

“It’s a stage name, and a nickname,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“A nickname for what?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked.”

“You’ve been dating this guy for, what, three months now, and you don’t even know his name?” Yennefer sounded incredulous.

“I know his name. It’s Jaskier. “ Geralt smirked, and Yennefer looked likely to hit him.

She hadn’t given Geralt even the tiniest bit of rest about it all since Geralt had admitted that he and Jaskier were serious over a month ago, but Geralt found himself less and less bothered by it. She had made it clear that she simply wanted to meet him, and that was her goal with all this teasing, but Geralt wasn’t ready. Yennefer meeting Jaskier likely meant Ciri meeting Jaskier, and though he knew he was serious, he felt they needed quite a bit more stability before his five-year-old was brought into the picture. Jaskier seemed to agree, if his lack of pressing about it was anything to go off of.

“Do you even know his last name?” Yennefer asked.

“I do. But I’m not telling you. You don’t need to internet stalk him.”

“Oh, but I so love being nosey.”

Geralt snorted, then turned to the bright patter of Ciri’s feet running to him and jumping in his arms. He caught her, and lifted her up in a bear hug. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ciri nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you ask Mister Julian if he’s free Friday?” Geralt asked, turning back to Yen and holding out his hand for Ciri’s bag, which Yennefer passed to him.

“Sorry, he said he was busy,” Yennefer answered with a sympathetic grimace.

“Someday I’ll meet Ciri’s favorite person in the whole world,” Geralt said. He slung the bag over his arm and put Ciri down, instead taking her hand. “That’s fine. How’s a night at Grandpa’s then?”

Ciri’s eyes grew comically large. “Yes! Last time we had unicorn pancakes! For dinner!” she said.

Geralt very much did not want to know what unicorn pancakes were, or just how much of a sugarbomb they contained. Instead of asking, he waved at Yen and took Ciri back home.

Geralt could feel himself drifting. He shouldn’t let himself, he knew, but it was hard not to when he was wrapped up in his warm bed, still shaking off sleep, and Jaskier was lightly tracing patterns on Geralt’s bare chest. There were things he had to do, like clean up after their date night, and go pick Ciri up from Vesemir’s, but Geralt figured there wasn’t much harm in letting himself have this moment. He hummed, to let Jaskier know he was awake. Hopefully he’d not let Geralt drift off again.

“Morning,” Jaskier said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was a near thing.

“Since when do you wake up before me?” Geralt asked. With great effort, he opened an eye to look at Jaskier, who was smiling down at Geralt, his head propped up with his elbow.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Jaskier answered. He continued trailing his fingers along Geralt’s chest. “I’m sure next time you’ll have to chase me out when I inevitably oversleep and your daughter’s on her way home.”

Geralt hummed and caught Jaskier’s hand, then pressed his lips to Jaskier’s fingers. Though the light streaming in from the window was entirely too bright, Geralt found he didn’t mind. Jaskier was haloed in the soft light.

“Maybe sometime you can meet her,” Geralt said.

Jaskier grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Geralt’s collarbone. “I’d love to. When you’re both ready,” he said. He lifted his head again, then paused, before pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm, yeah, it’s official,” Jaskier said as he pulled back.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows as he reached out to card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “What’s official?”

“That I love you,” Jaskier said.

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just thrown Geralt completely for a loop and left him boneless. Jaskier sounded so sure, so honest, and he was beaming down at Geralt.

“Is that so?” Geralt finally answered, his mouth dry.

Jaskier’s face did not dampen, not even a little, as he nodded. “It is. I know because I still felt that way when I kissed you, morning breath and all.”

Geralt snorted and pushed himself up to sit. He still held Jaskier’s hand, and he pressed a kiss to his palm--to spare him from any further morning breath--then let go and stood up. Jaskier sat up, too, and was looking at Geralt with such a look of adoration, that Geralt felt himself flushing under the attention as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The escape helped clear his head. After his teeth were brushed, he left the bathroom to find Jaskier getting dressed, pulling a new outfit from the drawer Geralt had cleared out for him. They smiled at each other, then switched, Jaskier brushing his teeth and Geralt getting dressed.

It was so easy, that Geralt found himself a bit floored. It had been slow, and Geralt hadn’t truly noticed, but in the warm shock of Jaskier’s confession, he noticed there were little reminders of Jaskier everywhere: the clothes in the drawer, Jaskier’s toothbrush in Geralt’s bathroom. The pictures from the photobooth of the two of them sitting on Geralt’s nightstand.

Geralt returned to the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. Geralt watched, silently, as Jaskier finished brushing his teeth, then grinned at Geralt.

“Don’t tell me you’re kicking me out already. I woke up early for you! I thought we could go to brunch. Maybe do an early six-month anniversary thing, since I’m working on our actual anniversary.” Jaskier paused to let out a nervous laugh and card his fingers through his hair. “Monthiversary? Whatever. Six months is a big deal, okay, I promise I’ll let you off the hook for other month markers, but six months is a big deal.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand and Jaskier allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Jaskier’s body sagged in relief against Geralt and Geralt held him all the tighter for it. This was right. Geralt hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time.

“How would you feel about Jaskier meeting Ciri?” Geralt asked as soon as Yennefer opened the door.

Yennefer paused for a moment, blinking.

“I hate when you do that. Next time can you greet me before bombarding me with big questions?” Yennefer asked, frowning at him.

“Hi Yen,” Geralt answered, nodding a little. He supposed that was fair. “How has your week been? I wanted to chat about this before Ciri comes down. So she doesn’t get excited or think it’s happening if you say no.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Yennefer let out an audible breath, then gestured for Geralt to come inside. “So, things are pretty serious with him, then?”

“Yes. We’ve been together nine months.”

Yennefer put her hands on her hips and regarded Geralt for a moment. “You’ve been seeing this guy almost a year, and you’re just now considering having him meet Ciri? Jesus, Geralt. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t wait until a marriage proposal before any of us got to know him.”

“I can’t consider marrying anyone that Ciri hasn’t signed off on,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. Yes, absolutely, have this guy that’s been in your life for almost an entire year meet Ciri, I give you permission.” Yen’s eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. “I get to meet him after. Before Lambert and Eskel.”

“Agreed,” Geralt said. He thought about sticking out his hand to shake Yennefer’s and seal the deal, but he figured now wasn’t the time to incur Yennefer’s wrath.

Geralt was nervous. In fact, nervous didn’t even begin to describe Geralt at this precise moment. Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was probably just as nervous, if not moreso, judging by how quiet he had been all day on the phone. No social media posts, only a couple clarifying questions about the plan for tonight to Geralt, and otherwise completely silent. It helped, if Geralt was being honest. That meant Jaskier knew how big of a deal this was, just as much as Geralt did. If Ciri didn’t like Jaskier--well. Geralt just had to trust that was impossible.

When he heard the knock, Geralt startled. He opened the door to find Jaskier standing there, looking sheepish and gorgeous.

“Ciri? Jaskier’s here,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand for Jaskier, who gladly took it and stepped inside.

Geralt was still turned toward the door, closing it, as Ciri’s steps turned from walking to an all out sprint toward them.

“Mister Julian!” she yelled as she jumped into his--thankfully, just barely ready--arms. Jaskier looked bewildered, and like he was still processing the girl now in his arms. Ciri pulled back and pressed her palms to Jaskier’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming to my dad’s! You didn’t say you were coming over!”

“I...I didn’t know,” Jaskier answered. He bent to put her back on the ground, just a bit too fast to be intentional, but Ciri was delighted by the move. Jaskier then wrung his hands together, but Geralt could still see that they were shaking.

“Julian? You’re Mister Julian?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t process this. He felt dizzy and thrown and suddenly very uncertain of what he should do with his hands.

“Julian’s my first name,” Jaskier answered. Geralt could see the blush creeping along Jaskier’s face. “Since it’s on my driver’s license and easier to say, that’s the name I use. You’re Cirilla’s dad?”

“Dad,” Ciri whined, and when Geralt looked to her she had the most disapproving frown Geralt had ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Mister Julian? You said we don’t keep secrets!”

“You’re right,” Geralt agreed. He hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know I was keeping a secret, it was an accident. I call Mister Julian ‘Jaskier.’”

Ciri turned her now very suspicious frown on Jaskier. “Were you keeping a secret? You didn’t tell me you’re my dad’s boyfriend.”

Jaskier laughed and shook his head helplessly. “Trust me, sweetheart. I had no idea. Apparently your dad and I are too good at keeping you safe.”

Ciri seemed to accept that answer, because she shrugged, then ran off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Jaskier, however, wheeled on Geralt the moment she turned her back.

“You were married to Yennefer?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Geralt answered. Jaskier let out an incredulous bark of laughter and Geralt placed a hand on the small of his back--trying to steady them both. “We divorced just after we adopted Ciri. How did you not connect her name?”

“I thought maybe you were both inspired by Apple products! Who was I to judge?” Jaskier threw his hands up. A moment later, one landed heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could still just barely feel that hand tremble. “And I don’t call her Ciri! She wanted me to call her Cirilla. I never connected--” He laughed again, shaky and disbelieving. “Oh my god, this does not help nanny stereotypes.”

“At least we know she already likes you?” Geralt offered.

Jaskier gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. He glanced at the kitchen, and by the time he looked back at Geralt, his entire face had crinkled into a broad smile. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand between both of his own and pressed Geralt’s knuckles to his lips, and now Geralt could feel Jaskier’s grin.

“She does,” Jaskier said, sounding as wet as his eyes were. “She does like me!”

Relief washed over Geralt as he really considered what this meant. The hardest part and biggest potential barrier to the future of their relationship had already been crossed before it was even a question. Geralt was not looking forward to how much Yen was going to laugh at him, but he wasn’t worried about their future anymore. Ciri loved Jaskier as much as Geralt did. Everything would be okay.

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s hold to cup Jaskier’s face and bring him in for a kiss. Somehow, they had managed to do this right. Somehow, they were being rewarded.

“Are we having dinner, or what, lazy boneses?” Ciri called from the kitchen.

Jaskier pulled away to laugh, and Geralt had to capture the mischievous smile Jaskier gave him in another kiss. This time, when Jaskier pulled away, his eyes were soft and his hand was warm as he pulled Geralt to the kitchen.

“Coming, lazy bones?” Jaskier asked, as if Geralt wouldn’t follow him anywhere.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #gerlion #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #geraskier au #geraskier modern au #my writing #romtober #pls reblog this like #i'm so freaking proud of it lmao

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kenmasgameboy · 4 years ago

Photo

【ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ】

oikawa toru has so many girls falling at his feet, but it wasn’t always like this. when y/n met him there was no one yet to inflate his ego, when he was pure to himself, the person he is when it isn’t performative. she fell in love. after forcing a rejection from him, where he says he never saw her as a girl, she’s determined to become the absolute perfect girl for every one except him.

profiles: [ student council ] [ on the block ]

masterlist

listen to the mixtape while you read

↬ entry #1: age 6 ➺ chapter 1 ➺

𝕚. caught one.

"Play outside!" You had heard this demand a million times growing up from your sweet grandparents. Your mother's parents did what they could to provide as normal a childhood as possible for you despite having a hole in your life that rested in not having your societally normal guardians. But thanks to them, it never really felt like that hole bothered you growing up. You still didn’t understand fully what had happened yet, the bliss of being so young. As doting as they tried, midway through the day, the clock would strike the time when their joints would remind them they could not continue playing with their rambunctious grandchild any longer that day.

So opening the door would be an exciting change of pace. You would go outside by yourself playing on your front porch with the new toys you had. But nobody to play with. Always going outside after the other neighborhood kids had already gone inside for dinner that day. The quiet of the neighborhood would overwhelm the excited girl. You had far too much energy to play in silence.

Singing while you played, dancing with your favorite stuffed animal until you were too exhausted to stand. You would become tired only when the orange and peach lights would tint the sky in a flattering manner. You'd lay down in the tall grass, breathing in the fresh air and singing the rest of your favorite song to yourself, squeezing your stuffed bunny to your chest.

Suddenly a net comes down on top of your bunny, which was resting peacefully in your arms.

"Iwa-chan! Look! I caught a gnarly one!" You opened your eyes in a panic to see a young boy with soft brown curly hair. His brown eyes sparkling as he stared down at you. You weren't used to playing with other kids, especially not ones that made your cheeks rosy just by looking at him.

Looking back on it now, the feeling of your blood pumping in your veins and electric shock of looking into his eyes for the first time may never be a feeling you feel again.

"You just caught a girl, Toru! That's gross she could have cooties!" Another boy approached, he had dark spiked hair and a large bandage on his cheekbone. Both boys were considerably dirty from bug hunting.

Toru screamed upon the mention of cooties. He took his net back, "No! That can't be true! My little sister doesn't have cooties!"

"It is true! Makki said even little sisters have them! That means nae-chan too!" Iwa told him, Toru screamed again.

"Hey! Do you have cooties?" Toru asked you, you sat up, "And you better be honest! I can always tell when someone is lying!"

"Cooties? No! Of course I don't!" You said, straightening out your shirt. Toru got close to your face, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he studied it. You didn't lean back, even though your face was scared of his judgmental eyes. You were strong enough to take it.

"I believe you." Toru smiled, backing up and crossing his arms, "She's clear, I know it."

"Are you sure?" Iwa asked, approaching slowly.

"Of course, look—" Toru grabbed one of your hands off your stuffed bunny and held it in his own. "No cooties here."

Even though his hands were dirty, and one of his fingers had an alien band aid on it, it lit up a part of yourself you had no idea existed. This lonely part of your heart you didn't know yearned for peers. For friends. For someone as sweet as him to show you a shred of kindness. You couldn’t help but feel your stomach twist into a knot in the bottom of your gut.

"Whatever. Don't touch me with that hand, though! I'm not taking stupid risks like you do!" Iwa barked back, turning around and walking toward an ant hill.

"Are you alone?" Toru questioned, your sorrowful glaze that went over your eyes as you tighten your grip on your bunny was enough for him.

"Say, what's your name?" Toru brought your attention back to his lively smile. You couldn’t help your sudden nerves that overtook your throat. You were not that shy of a child, pretty average to say the least, but with his attention making you feel so special you wanted to shrivel away into nothing on the floor.

“Sorry for Iwa-chan, he can be a little aggressive..” Toru shrugged, searching through his pockets for something. He pulled out an oreo packet half eaten but offered it to you. “Do you want these?”

You could only gasp and grab at them, but he pulled them out of your grasp before you could grab them.

“I’ll trade you these for your name.” The boy smirked with his height advantage over you, though not by much he still was able to hold the oreos out of your reach and laughed at your struggle. Your grandmother never let you eat such sugary treats, even told the teachers at school you weren’t allowed to partake in the same desserts as the other kids. There was nothing you could do but comply with this person's request. He giggled at your sad attempts, “Shorty!”

"L/N Y/N. At your service." You said confidently, putting your hand up to your forehead in a salute, "Oh and this is Bun-Bun. Is that enough?"

"I'm Oikawa Toru,” He smiled and brought his hand down to give you the treats you desired, “and that's Iwaizumi Hajime. But you can call him Iwa-chan."

"Don't call me that!"

"He likes it, don't worry about that." Toru cupped his mouth with one hand to tell you that at full volume and waved off Iwaizumi with the other hand, “You’re new to the neighborhood, right? I’ve seen you before from my window, I live right there.”

You nodded between shoving oreos into your mouth.

“Why do you only come out when all of us are done playing? We’d love to have another friend playing tag!” Toru said his best attempt to try and get you to join their group when something clicked in his head.

“Iwa-chan, what if y/n is the evening bug we’re supposed to find?!” Toru exclaimed.

“Don’t be stupid, girls aren’t bugs.” Iwa said, his eyes searching the ground and combing through the long grass that hadn’t been cut in a long time.

"Evening bugs?"

"Bugs that are only around in the evening! And I thought that since I only see you out– uh, nevermind." Toru explained, your eyes were wide and burned his face, “Iwa-chan’s big brother said there should be tons over here.”

"That's so cool! What can I do to help?" Your large eyes stared into Toru's heart, ready to do whatever he needed. He felt his face get all hot and his throat get itchy. You were one of the first girls that weren’t one of his sisters to get this close to him.

“N-nothing, why would you want to do that? Aren’t girls scared of bugs?” Toru waved you off.

“No way! If I kill a bug in my house my grandma will give me a dollar, so I’m always picking up bugs.” You said so proudly, pointing at your chest. Even though you looked as dainty as any other girl your age your voice was louder than expected and your words had no restrictions.

“You really are weird, huh?” Toru picked on you, your face fell at the comment. And he panicked, “I didn’t mean that in a mean way! I’m sorry. I– sorry I’m not great around cute girls. I mean! Nevermind.”

“You’re the weird one, saying embarrassing stuff like that.” You said, hugging your bunny closer to your chest in a frustrated manner. That comment was so embarrassing your body felt like it would explode.

“You should meet my little sister, Nae-chan, she’s kinda weird like you are.” Toru meant it as a challenge, but you didn’t take the bait. You didn’t know his sister anyways or how weird she might be.

“Does she like oreos too?” You asked, squinting your eyes in seriousness.

“Duh!” he responds quickly, and he whispered loudly: “Who do you think I stole those from?”

“Dumbass! You need to apologize to her for stealing!” Hajime threw his shoe at Toru, causing him to comically fall to the ground. “She’s probably going to cry and I hate it when she does that.”

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll do it after we go home.” Toru insisted, then reached up to grab your arm and pull himself up. But all it did was cause you to fall over next to him. The thin grass tickling your neck and elbow landing directly above Toru’s shoulder forcing you to land on your side. Your face being insanely close to the boys. You watched his face light up and it turned to the side.

Nose to nose. Tips of noses just barely touching each other.

Too close. You were scared, but you couldn’t move.

His brown eyes looking directly at you. They paralyzed you in place.The world felt silent just for a second. Maybe you just hit your head on something or maybe…

“No, loserkawa do it now! She doesn’t deserve that.” Iwa yelled and both you and Toru looked like you were snapped back to reality. Toru was the first to look away only to stick his tongue out childishly at his best friend.

No, don’t leave!

“Fine! But I’m taking Y/N-chan, so have fun being alone!” Toru replied. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand to pull you onto your feet and started running. The image of the back of Toru’s head, running toward the sunset.

The way the orange glow of the sun made his brown curly hair look almost red, the way it bounced. The way his face turned around and laughed at your shocked expression. His hand felt so warm in yours, it sent shock waves up into your chest to force your heart into doing its first flip of your life. Your nose felt red hot at the lingering tingling Toru’s nose left. You wiped at it with your hand that you held Bun-Bun in but you couldn’t get it off. Your hand was so sweaty from his touches, you thought it might slip out of his grasp but he hung on regardless. He was stuck to you like glue. You didn't know it yet, but you weren't going to be lonely anymore from that day on.

ba-dump... ba-dump... ba-dump... ba-dump.....

***

【ｆｕｎ　ｆａｃｔｓ】

➺ although she isn’t a bug, y/n was exactly who Iwaizumi’s older brother wanted them to find. he just simply put it in terms for those boys to understand, he knew they’d never resist finding a rare bug for their collection. he just thought she looked like she could use some friends her own age.

➺ after y/n heard this she thought she had a crush on Iwaizumi’s brother (who was 5 years older than them) for like 3 years. or at least that’s what she told people

➺ y/n only comes out at night because her grandparents are trying to protect her from her biological father who has been trying to win her back in a court case. her father is doomed to lose, but still has tried to come by the house to take her with him. In order to prevent this, her grandparents have been keeping her inside during the day, then at about 4pm they know dad should be going to his night shift and feel easier about letting her play outside.

➺ y/n was completely oblivious to this being the reason her grandparents were cooping her up most days until she was about 11. she felt awful about the amount of tantrums she threw and how many times she tried to sneak out.

➺ Toru was there for her during all of this, he would come by the house every day. Some days it was just him, some days he was dragging his friends there with him, always ringing the doorbell for her to come play volleyball since with y/n they had almost a full enough team for 3 on 3. Or 2 on 2′s with two people being “coaches.”

➺ That became one of the kids only activities, because it was one that y/n’s grandfather could come supervise since he had played himself.

➺ y/n wanted to become a libero just like him.

➺ other days, Toru would just beg for y/n to come over and play ping pong, sing karaoke, paint, ride scooters or bikes, anything he could think of that would convince her grandma to let her come hang out with him. Her grandma caught on, and would just watch them in the street between their houses as they played many things.

➺ because of Toru, y/n slowly stopped hanging out with only Bun-Bun.

taglist: @chibishae34 @bby-bokuto @shittykawaa @1-800-schmacked @artsamber @berriesii @bbyazu @roseestuosity @gaytoasterstrudels @mirdy47707 @trippy-kitty @iwanttogotopluto @hvneymun @a-listaire @princessmidas @glyxiebear @akaashiwife @anejuuuuoy @kiyoojima @deimmortales99 @unstableye @sugawarabby @haikyuufairy @ashaite @bettys-other-shoe @defchamseoul @honeymoneyy @animatedrapture

reply with a comment or send an ask to be aded to the taglist!! if your name is crossed off it’s because i couldn’t tag you, let me know if you’ve changed your username!

a/n: also i hope you guys don’t mind the first fluffy prologue to this story, these memories will be littered through the story. so we start off with age 6, then we’ll read about current day at 18, then flutter back between memories from middle school. the smau stuff will be for when reader is 18! i swear the angst will come! this probs the only fluffy chapter ya’ll will be getting LMAO. so let me know if you guys liked it bc i’m scARED.

also bun-bun was the name of my stuffed bunny i used to take everywhere for everyone who cares hehe

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httpjeon · 5 years ago

Text

— 08. bunny blues 8: instincts | yoongi & jungkook (m.)

yoongi/reader/jungkook — feat. hybrid!taehyung | fluff, smut | hybrid!au

wordcount: 3.1k

contents: dirty talk, size kink, virgin kink if u squint, praise kink, possessive!jk, fingering, multiple orgasms, knotting, cunnilignus, blow job, creampie, soft!yoon

― synopsis: your heat hits but a visitor comes at the wrong time and keeps you company.

note: the moment we've all been waiting for,,,,,,our bois get their dicks wet finally!!!! this was posted on ao3 before it was posted here, in case you are wondering if you’ve read it before.

blog masterlist ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

"Just call if you need anything, baby, alright?" Jungkook smiled, petting your head softly as you stood at the door to bid them goodbye.

"We'll be back in a few hours, okay?" You nodded at Yoongi's words and hugged them, reassuring them that you'd be fine while they were gone.

They had decided to go out to get everything you needed and wanted for your looming heat. So while they were gone, you went back to Yoongi's room to finish making your “nest”.

Instead of going through your heat in your bedroom, everyone decided that it would be much more comfortable to use Yoongi's king sized bed instead. So you moved all the things you'd collected over the course of a few days to his bedroom to construct where you'd be spending the next week. However, before you could even try to sit down and begin, the doorbell chimed. You thought about ignoring it, heaving a big sigh as you tossed one of Yoongi's pillows to the corner of the bed where you wanted it.

The doorbell rang again and you groaned, hopping off the bed and going to the door. When you opened the door, you were shocked to see Taehyung's handsome face staring back at you with a cute lopsided smile. His ears perked up at the sight of you and his tail wagged happily.

"T-Tae why are you here? You shouldn't be here," You breathed, already feeling your panties growing wet by the alpha male standing on your doorstep.

"I have to get something from Jungkook's room. Why shouldn't I be here, are you okay? Is someone here?" His eyes narrowed as he barrelled into the house -- protective instincts on as he looked for someone who was a threat to you, "There's no one here," He mumbled, relaxing visibly.

"I-I know," You breathed, body already on fire with having him with you.

Damned your instincts.

Taehyung's entire body froze as his shoulders heaved up with a big inhale. His mouth fell open while his eyes seemed to roll back in his head. A low growl ripped from his lips before he turned around. You felt breathless at the sight of him; eyes dark with pupils blown wide and his mouth hanging open like he was absolutely salivating over your scent.

"You in heat, sweet girl?" He cooed, deep voice lowering even more until it felt like your knees were going to give out.

As if sensing your plight, he wrapped his strong arm around your waist and pulled your heated body against his. With his body pressed against yours, you could smell his strong scent all around you and it made a whimper fall from your lips.

"Shit you smell...absolutely divine," He whispered, burying his face in your neck to get a better smell of you. "You smell so sweet...so ripe. Shit, I just wanna knot you right here -- cover you in my come so you smell like you belong to me."

"Please!" You gasped, mindlessly grinding forward even though it granted you no relief.

"Lay back, sweetheart, I'll take care of you, yeah?"

Immediately, you fell back on the couch and Taehyung crawled on until he was hovering above you. His lips found yours, a heated kiss nothing like the one you shared with Yoongi nights ago. His hand slipped up your shirt to cup your bare breast -- bringing a small whimper from your lips for him to swallow. He groaned in response, quickly abandoning his hold on your chest in favor of sliding his long, delicate fingers down the front of your shorts and panties.

"You're so wet, god," He growled, quickly sinking one finger inside you.

You immediately noticed how long his digit was -- much longer than both Jungkook's and Yoongi's fingers.

"God you're tight -- how're you gonna fit my cock in this little hole huh?" He whispered, dragging his tongue up the side of your neck before grazing his sharp canines against the fragile skin. You cried out, arching your hips to get him to move his finger inside you.

You were both moving on pure instinct but you still had Jungkook and Yoongi in the back of your mind — a little tinge of guilt that made your heart ache.

You whined when he managed to touch that little spot inside you and you were sure you were absolutely gushing on him. However, the pleasure paused when he began to try and fit another finger in. You whined, reaching down to halt him and he looked up.

"Too much?" He cooed, pressing his lips to yours as he backed off -- pulling his fingers out to circle your clit. You sighed in pleasure, spreading your legs to give him more room.

Before he could think about trying again, the door opened and the familiar scents of Yoongi and Jungkook overlapped with Taehyung's.

"What— Taehyung!?" Yoongi cried in shock followed by a loud snarl from Jungkook.

Heavy footsteps stomped towards you before Taehyung was suddenly yanked violently from you. Sitting up, you were able to see Jungkook pin Taehyung to the wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jungkook growled, nose to nose with his best friend.

"She's in heat what the hell do you think I'm doing?" Taehyung snapped back.

"She's ours, Taehyung," Jungkook said, tightening his grip on the shirt in his hands.

"Not until you've knotted her -- until then she's free game," Taehyung whispered.

"Watch your fucking mouth, Taehyung. She isn't just a random conquest -- stay away from her," The two of them shared a still minute of glaring at each other.

"Yoongi," You suddenly whined, clenching your thighs together at a sudden rush of arousal.

The two hybrids suddenly inhaled sharply at your sudden change in scent.

"Leave now, Taehyung," Jungkook released his friend, giving him a firm shove towards the door.

The blonde stood for a moment, watching the way you nuzzled closer to Yoongi. Your scent and the way you had reacted so well to his touches had left him completely hard. He still turned his back on the scene as Jungkook joined the two of you and left the apartment as fast as he arrived. Your arousal still lingered in his fingers and he knew he'd use it to jerk off when he got home.

With your heat officially hitting, you found the need to get to your nest as soon as possible. You whined, attempting to get out of the strong hold both men had on you.

"What is it baby?" Yoongi whispered, loosening his hold on you.

"G-Gotta go to the room," You whined, squirming against Jungkook's hold.

"Let's go then," Yoongi smiled, attempting to pull you away from the pup.

"Fuck," Jungkook whined, finally releasing you.

Although your legs were shaky, you still managed to scamper down the hall and into the bedroom. When Jungkook and Yoongi finally entered, they found you stripping yourself and cuddling into the cool sheets beneath you. They felt softer than ever against your sensitive skin and you were suddenly thankful for Yoongi’s choice of satin sheets.

"Such a pretty girl for us," Jungkook cooed, crawling onto the bed. "Hyung,"

"Y-Yeah?" Yoongi whispered, eyes following the trails Jungkook's fingers made along your sweat-soaked skin.

"Let me take care of her first, then you can have your turn next," The hybrid bargained.

"And why do you get her first?" Yoongi challenged, raising a brow.

"Because she needs a knot, hyung," Jungkook smirked, nosing your neck while keeping his eyes on the elder. "And last time I checked...you couldn't knot her,"

"Want your knot, Kookie," You whimpered, spreading your legs to accommodate him between them. Just the mention of his knot had you craving it, needing it.

"See hyung?" Jungkook chuckled at Yoongi's pout. Still, the human took a seat on a chair situated by the window. "At least you get a nice show out of it,"

"Jungkookie," You whined again, reaching up to pull his body flush against yours.

"I got you baby," He finally turned his full attention to you.

Your hair stuck to your skin as your skyrocketing temperature caused your body to become sticky with sweat. Your breasts heaved with every shaky breath you took. Sitting back on his knees, he took a moment to look over your body.

"You look so pretty," He whispered, cupping your breasts in both hands.

His weight was more than welcomed when he leaned over to envelop one your nipples in his mouth -- swirling his tongue until it hardened. Pulling his mouth off, he blew cold air on the bud until you whined and shivered before giving the same treatment to the other.

"You're trembling baby," Yoongi whispered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees to get a closer look.

"Do you feel good,sweetheart?" Jungkook asked, thumbing over one of your now overly sensitive nipples.

"S-So good," You confirmed, making Jungkook’s pride swell.

"You're so cute," He whispered, pressing a kiss against your breast. "So soft and sweet...and all ours. Isn't that right?"

"Y-Yes Kookie, I'm all yours," You repeated, breathy and already worn out.

Arousal plagued your mind. It felt like you were on fire, between your thighs so wet and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full and pleasured by the hybrid in front of you.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, you felt his fingers grazing your heated folds -- spreading you open as he positioned himself to lay between your legs. You felt embarrassed, with his face so close to your wet heat. It felt like he was examining every part of you, trying to engrave you in his mind.

"Such a pretty cunt," He whispered. "Can't wait to fuckin' ruin you,"

You covered your face with your hands as you whined. Arching your hips up, you could feel his breath on your entrance -- he was so close.

A long cry escaped you when he swiped his tongue across the length of your core from your entrance to your clit. He gripped your thighs, pinning them open as he began to truly devour you. Your hands slid into his hair as he ate you, wet lewd noises mixed with vicious growls came from between your legs.

Beneath his bangs, his eyes eyes blown wide with lust. He latched onto your clit and sucked, your hips arched up as you keened. You'd never felt anything like it before and you didn't know what to do with yourself. You began to squirm to get away from the heavy sensations crashing over your body.

"Sit still," He snarled, sitting up and spreading you even more before his tongue slid into your clenching entrance.

"Fuck," You heard Yoongi groan.

Looking over, you could see him palming himself through his jeans. The sight had you trembling beneath Jungkook. His tongue was giving you the slightest stretch as he licked you and tasted everything you had to offer.

Suddenly he pulled away, tossing his head back as he licked his lips of anything remaining. You laid panting, trembling in residual stimulation with your legs still spread.

"You taste...so good..." He breathed, hovering above you before he met you for a kiss.

It was so chaste and sweet compared to the sinful act he had just been doing. While locked in the kiss, he slipped his hand between your legs and easily slid two fingers into your entrance. You whined, the stretch more than you'd felt before. However, your body was craving it so much that you couldn't be bothered to care that much. He filled you much easier than Taehyung had, your walls easily accepting his digits.

"So small...so tight," He groaned into your lips. "Gonna ruin this little cunt, you know? You're gonna take my knot and nothing will ever be able to satisfy you again,"

"Want it so bad, Jungkook," You whispered, making him chuckle.

"Yeah? You hear that hyung?" Jungkook glanced over to where Yoongi was still sitting with flushed cheeks. "Our cute little bunny wants to be fucked,"

"Yes, please," You breathed, arching your hips up so he'd be enticed to fuck you with those delicious digits buried inside you.

"So polite too," Yoongi cooed from his place, eyes locked on the spread folds of your cunt from where Jungkook was filling you.

"Our good little bunny," Jungkook whispered, finally fucking his fingers into you.

You preened under the praise and stimulation, eyes rolling back into your head as you began to tremble. The angle of his fingers had him hitting your spot and you felt your orgasm coming full force.

"I-I..." You stuttered, unable to formulate the correct words, reaching down to wrap your hand around his forearm.

"Cum for me," Jungkook growled, groaning when your walls tightened around him as you finally released.

You could feel their eyes on you as you came, trembling and arching as moans left your mouth. His fingers didn't stop until you were whimpering and squirming to get away from the overstimulation. When he finally slowed, he pulled his fingers out and easily popped them in his mouth, eyes rolling back at your delightful taste.

"I need to fuck you," He growled, scrambling to shed his clothes.

You were quickly flipped onto your hands and knees, facing Yoongi. You could feel Jungkook behind you and, as you met Yoongi's eyes, the blunt head of Jungkook's cock met your entrance.

"Shit...you're so tight," He growled as he began to work his cock into you.

The feeling of being filled so completely was brand new and you went limp against the bed as the sensation overloaded your brain. The more he sunk in, the worse the burn got until you were whimpering with tears in your eyes.

"H-Hurts Kookie," You whined, reaching back to halt him from sinking in anymore.

However, he gripped your wrist, pinning it against your back and continued on until he was balls deep. You whined, struggling to get used to the feeling of being stuffed full.

"Relax," Jungkook whispered, releasing your wrist and running his hand down the length of your spine until he met the fluffy ball of your tail.

"C-Can't...it's too much," You whimpered, clutching the sheets desperately.

"C'mere," He cooed, pulling you up until you were up on just your knees, your back pressed against his chest.

He was so deep inside that you felt your eyes roll back. Beneath the burn of his entrance, you could feel the pleasure as well. It was only exasperated when his clever fingers found your clit. The reaction was immediate, you were clinging to him as you began to tremble.

"So sensitive," He whispered, burying his face in your neck. "That's it...relax for me. Let me make you feel good, babygirl,"

You finally felt your body relax and Jungkook did to, letting you drop down onto your elbows. You sighed, feeling his length throb inside you and you couldn't help but grind back in search of more of the full feeling he could give you. Gripping your hips, he slowly pulled out until just half his length was inside you and then he thrusted back in. Nailing your g-spot, your cry was muffled by the sheets.

"Such a pretty girl," You opened your eyes to find Yoongi had moved to sit on the bed beside you.

"Yoongi," You slurred, reaching forward until your hand found his hard length hidden in his jeans.

"Not yet," He grinned, pulling your hand away from his crotch and lacing your fingers together.

Jungkook groaned as you sat up, your walls tightening around him. Unable to help yourself, you pressed your lips against Yoongi's. He smiled, sliding his hand between your legs to find your swollen clit. You were shocked by how close you felt with Jungkook's cock buried inside you and Yoongi's deft fingers teasing your bud until you couldn't take it anymore. Falling over the edge again, you found yourself clinging to Yoongi, who continued to rub your clit through the high. Jungkook groaned, feeling how utterly tight you got around him.

"I think our little bunny is enjoying her first cock," Jungkook whispered, dragging his tongue up your shoulder. "Coming so prettily, huh?"

"How does it feel? Being stuffed nice and full?" Yoongi grinned at the debauched, faraway look that overcame your face.

"So...So good...I w-wanna cum again," You whined, grinding back against Jungkook's cock.

You noticed the base of him growing bigger and bigger and the fact that you knew he was going to knot you had you whimpering and fucking yourself back even more.

"Jungkook!" You cried, tangling one of your hands in his hair and the other in Yoongi's t-shirt.

The rolls of his hips slowed until he was finally able to pop his knot into you -- finally tipping you over the edge again. You trembled as Jungkook's cum filled you, unable to escape due to his knot. You could feel him shake and gasp behind you as Yoongi's fingers eased you through your orgasm. Your walls clenching around him helped Jungkook soar through his end until the both of you were too boneless to remain upright.

Yoongi pet your hair, as Jungkook cradled you against his chest still locked together by his knot.

"Such a good girl," Jungkook praised you, wrapping his arms around you to kiss your cheek.

"Our best girl," Yoongi added, kissing your lips.

You sighed happily, feeling well satisfied after being filled with Jungkook's cum. You didn't feel overwhelmed by your heat like you had the first time you had. In fact, you didn't feel uncomfortable like you thought you would. You weren't hot anymore, feeling comfortable and safe wrapped between two men who loved you.

Instead of wanting to sleep, however, you found yourself staring at Yoongi. How beautiful and flawless he was -- cheeks flushed with his arousal and still hard in his jeans. But so patient, just waiting for his turn if you were willing.

"Shit, sensitive," Jungkook groaned, gripping your waist as he clenched his teeth.

"What is it?" Yoongi quirked a brow at the hybrid behind you.

"I think...she wants some more because she's squeezing me like crazy," Jungkook chuckled when you whined in embarrassment.

"Is that so?" Yoongi smirked before sitting up some more. "How about you use that cute little mouth for me?"

"Please," You licked your lips, watching eagerly as Yoongi unbuttoned his jeans until his cock was out.

His was long and the head of him a flushed purple-red with beads of wetness dripping from the tip. You could feel yourself positively drooling, licking your lips again when Jungkook reached forward to wrap his fist around Yoongi's length. More beads came to the tip and Jungkook made sure to use them to lubricate his palm so he could stroke the older comfortably. Yoongi's head fell backwards as he groaned.

"Go ahead and take him in, bun," Jungkook urged, fist still around Yoongi's cock.

You leaned forward, feeling Jungkook's knot tug a bit causing him to groan. You enveloped the head of Yoongi's cock in your mouth and he immediately groaned. You swirled your tongue around his tip, collecting his precum on your tongue before moaning at the taste.

"Shit," Jungkook groaned from behind you, grinding into you softly even though he was still sensitive. You whined yourself, arching your back and taking more of Yoongi into your mouth until he pushed your gag reflex and you pulled back.

"It's okay, don't push yourself," Yoongi smiled, gently petting your ears and hair to urge you to take him back in.

You did so without hesitation, taking half on him in before he hit your reflex and you pulled back again. It was uncomfortable when he went too far but you enjoyed suckling lightly on him as he throbbed in your mouth.

It didn't take long, Jungkook squeezing what you couldn't fit and your tongue sweeping his sensitive tip before Yoongi was coming. Your eyes widened as you tasted him for the first time, swallowing every drop you could.

"God that's my good girl," Yoongi groaned, thrusting his hips ever so slightly when you pulled off him suddenly. As he fucked Jungkook's fist, you felt his cum land on your lips and you whined, licking it off.

Finally, Jungkook released his length and the older relaxed.

"C-Can you make me come again?" You suddenly asked, leaning back farther and spreading your legs.

Jungkook immediately found your clit as Yoongi leaned forward to kiss you. Still stretched around Jungkook's cock, you found yourself reaching your end quickly. You gushed around Jungkook’s knot, wrapping your hand around Jungkook’s wrist of his fingers circled the throbbing bud.

What surprised you was the fact you felt Jungkook coming again -- filling you up just a bit more. He groaned softly when you finally stopped spasming around him.

You fully relaxed against Jungkook, stuffed completely with cum and ready to sleep.

Yoongi stood up from the bed and you whined at the loss of him. He smiled, petting your hair affectionately before stripped his clothes until he was just as naked as you and Jungkook. Finally, he crawled into bed and pulled the covers over both of you.

"Tomorrow, hyung," Jungkook grinned over your shoulder. "You'll get your turn tomorrow,"

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lovlydovlyjaycie · 4 years ago

Text

Ævi - Frontlines

Hey again! This will be a continued series. The first Ævi series is in my masterlist and is only four parts. This is going to be a ongoing series, so there is going to be a lot more of Ævi to come. :)

Summary: Y/n or also known as Ævi has lived through varies of world events. Now it is 1941, she has excepted that some things cannot be changed so Loki has convinced Y/n to go to New York and live a normal life, a life Y/n always wanted. Or as normal it can be, because new introductions lead to events that didn’t go down in the history books.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x reader, Loki, Steve Rogers, OC Vera

Warnings: Fluff.. Idk let me know if I’m forgetting something :)

Series Masterlist

Part 5

Today I was gonna go to Coney Island. Haven’t been before it was some kind of theme park. I had just picked out a green dress to wear. Any moment now Bucky would come and pick me up. And I heard a knock on the door. It must be him. I gathered myself and walked over towards the door. Taking a glance in the mirror that was next to the door, checking if everything was in place and it was. I was excited to see Bucky again even though I had just seen him. I loved being around him. I don’t know how else to describe it, but he felt like home. Bucky was my home. I reached for the door and went to open it with a big smile excited to see him. But my smile immediately dropped. It was Loki. “Hello, Love.” He said as he invited himself in. “Loki I kinda got to go. So..” I told him as I pointed towards the door with my thumb. “Right. Your going on a date with that Midgardian.” He said with some slight disgust. “Bucky, and I’m a Midgardian too smart ass.” He smirked at that. “The best one there is.” He told me and I narrowed my eyes at that. “What do you want?” I asked him.

“Nothing I just have something you might want. Vera sent this addressed to you.” He held it up, but gave it to me immediately, not playing some weird game he usually does. So I raised an eyebrow at him. “What?” He asked like he didn’t know how he usually acted. “You’re being nice.” I noted. “Well.. Am I not allowed to be nice?” I crossed my arms at that. “Usually you don’t act nice.” I went on to say. “Usually I trick people.” “So this is a trick?” I asked him. He stepped closer towards me. “Love, I could never fool you.” I uncrossed my arms and looked at the envelope. “Did Vera write you something? I that why you’re being nice. You like her right?” I asked him. “She is tolerable, But not as tolerable as-..” And there was a knock. Bucky. I put the envelope on the table and walked towards the door eager to open it.

As I opened it there was Bucky. In a nice suit. A very nice suit. “You look handsome. I thought we were going to Coney Island. Am I underdressed?” I asked him looking at my dress. “No, we’re going to Coney Island. And you look beautiful doll.” He said as he kissed my cheek. Then he put his hand forward that was behind his back to show me some flowers he had gotten me. Roses. Pink roses. “Ahww, this is so sweet, Bucky. You didn’t have to do that.” I told him as he handed me the flowers. I walked back in the room to put them in some water. Behind me I heard short words of hello being exchanged between Bucky and Loki.

“Alright. I’m ready to go.” I told Bucky as I grabbed his left hand and walked out of the apartment. “Bye Loki.” I said not looking back.

Bucky had been so sweet the entire night to me. He won me a stuffed animal. We went on the carousel together. Steve had been there also, but he had been kinda avoiding us for some reason. I felt like I did something, but I didn’t know what. As Bucky was trying to win me another stuffed animal I stood a little closer to Steve. “Is everything ok?” I asked him. I really hope I didn’t do anything wrong. “What? No. Why would you think that?” He asked me. “Well, you have been kinda avoiding us since we got here.” I noted as a matter of fact. “Sorry I didn’t mean to-..” “Don’t apologize. Here I’m gonna win you a stuffed animal.” I interrupted to make light of the situation. I gave Steve the stuffed animal I had been holding and walked over next to Bucky. You had to shoot the ducks that were moving. Bucky was really good a few were already down.

“Sir! Can I have a turn?” I asked the man that was behind the counter. He gave me a look. Most likely because not a lot of women do these. He was hesitant, but when I showed him I got money he gave me the gun. Bucky turned towards me. “You’re gonna win me a stuffed animal?” He asked with a smirk. “No, I’m gonna win Steve one.” I said as I was about to hold up the gun. “Alright here. This is how you do-..” He started as I started shooting at the duck and hit it. “You don’t need my help.” He noted smiling. The guy behind the counter was perplexed, not seeing a lady do this before. I had hit all of the ducks and got to choose the biggest stuffed animal. “That one I said.” It was a giant monkey. “Here you go Steve.” I said as I handed him the stuffed animal. It was almost as big as he was. “Thanks y/n. That was awesome.” He said laughing.

After that we moved on to walk around the park. In the distance I saw a phot booth. “We need to do that!” I exclaimed. “I’m pretty sure you don’t have any pictures of me.” I told Bucky. I grabbed his arm and almost dragged him towards the booth. “Slow down doll. We’re losing Steve.” He said laughing. In the distance it looked like there was a big monkey jumping around. I laughed at that. “He’ll catch up.” I said as we went to sit down inside the booth. “Alright. Four pictures. What should we do?” He asked. “Lets be spontaneous.” I said as I put the money in. For the first picture I put my head on his shoulder and smiled. The second I looked up at him smiling. The third I kissed him on his cheek. And the fourth he held my chin and kissed me on my lips. “Do you think they came out nicely?” He asked. “They came out perfect.” Already more happy about the moment than anything else. I got out of the booth, Bucky following behind me. I took the picture and looked at it. “I love them.” I said handing them over to Bucky. “Now its our turn.” I told Steve as I dragged him in the booth with the giant stuffed animal. The first picture I put up bunny ears and Steve put up bunny ears behind the monkey. The second I pushed the monkey to the ground to get it out of the way. The third is us laughing at my aggressiveness towards the monkey. And the fourth is us sticking out our tongues at the camera. “Perfect.” I said as I got out of the booth with Steve. Bucky was still staring at the pictures we just took. “You like them that much, huh?” I asked him. “I love them.” He said. Steve came up and showed me the pictures of us. They were really cute. “So where to now?” I asked them. “Lets go in that ride.” Bucky said as he started dragging Steve with him. “I’m not going in there. That will mess up my hair. You go.” I told Bucky and he nodded taking Steve with him.

Before the ride started Bucky was talking a lot. It almost looked like he was freaking out about something. I was very tempted to listen in, but I decided to not do it. Even though I was very curious.

After that ride it was time for us to go back home, Steve had thrown up because of the ride. Which for some reason made Bucky freak out in a not normal way. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.

In the apartment Steve went straight to bed and took his monkey with him. Bucky looked very nervous. “Are you ok?” I asked him. “Yes? Why?” He said unsure of himself. “Well, for a start. First Steve looked really uncomfortable when we got to the park. Then it seemed like you were more freaked out by Steve throwing up at the park. Aaannddd. Your hands are shaking.” I said trying to figure out what was going on. I put the stuffed animal down on the couch and walked over to him. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?” I asked him again. He sighed. “Actually.. Alright, here goes nothing.” He took my hands which seemed to calm the shaking down. “Bucky?” I asked him. “I have been wanting to ask you this. For a while actually. From the moment I met you.. It felt like you had been in my life for as long as I could remember. It feltlike I loved you for a long time. And then two weeks later, when I saw you again, I knew.. I knew I wanted to be with you I wanted to love you, take care of you... Marry you. When I’m around you I feel like everything falls into place, like the world is right. And I would be a fool if I didn’t ask you this.” I was not expecting this. My heart was pounding so fast and loud I was afraid Bucky could hear. “Now I don’t have a ring. And I can’t offer you a lot. But I can promise you that I will love you and will fight for our love until I take my last breath. I promise.” Bucky went down on one knee. I felt one tear fall down me cheek. I took a deep breath. “Y/n Ironside, Will you marry me?” I went down on my knees and kissed him deeply. “Yes! I’ll marry you! I love you!” Bucky put his arms around me holding my tightly against his chest. “I love you y/n.” He told me.

Waking up for the first time in a long time I felt like I was truly living. I am Bucky’s fiancé now. I was looking at our hands that were intertwined. Me holding his hand felt like everything was right in the world again. It felt peaceful. I looked up and saw that Bucky was still fast asleep from the night we had. But I decided to get up and make him some breakfast, even though it felt so comfortable with him in bed. I quietly got out of bed and got a shirt from his closet to wear.

As I walked out of Bucky’s bedroom I saw Steve sitting at the kitchen table. “Good morning Steve.” I said cheerfully. “Good morning.” He said with a knowing smile. “Congratulations.” He said. “Thank you! How did you know?” I asked him curious. “We share the same wall.” He told me looking at his notebook in front of him. My eyes shot to him and I felt my cheeks getting red. “I’m so sorry Steve.” I said, that is embarrassing. “Don’t worry about it.” He laughed awkwardly. I needed to chance this awkward subject now. “So what are you doing in that notebook?” I asked him as I got some coffee. “This.” He said as he held up the notebook towards me. I turned towards him to look at what he made. “My ring?” I asked him. “Yes.” He smiled. “It looks good.” I told him as I went on to make the coffee. Walking past Steve to grab some cups I glanced at the drawing again, but a little too long maybe. “Is it accurate?” He asked me, probably wondering why I was looking for so long at the drawing. “It is.. It’s just.. It looks very similar to.. Never mind.” It looked similar to the drawing I got before I got sent back in time, but that doesn’t make any sense. “No what?” Steve pried on. “Well.. Someone once gave me a drawing like that as well.. I just looks very similar. Almost like a copy.” I laughed. I was impressed. Steve was a good drawer.

“Good morning.” Bucky said as he walked into the kitchen giving me a kiss. Steve and I said both our good mornings and I finished making our coffee. “What do you want to do today?” Bucky asked me. “Well I gotta go back to the hotel and get a change of clothes. After that I’m all yours.” I told him as I sat down on one of the chairs. “Alright. Let me get dressed and I’ll take you there. I also got to get a few things from the grocery store. After that I can pick you up again?” I nodded my head.

When I got back to the hotel I quickly took a shower and got ready for Bucky to pick me up again. I just put my hair up and put on a yellow Summer dress. I was looking for my white bag that would go nicely with the dress. Walking around the hotel room I was looking everywhere. In my closet, under the bed, the bathroom, the seating area, but of course I skipped the most obvious part of them all. The table by the door. It was right there. I looked to see if I got all my things in there that I would need for the day until I saw in the corner of my eye the letter from Vera. “Shoot, I totally forgot.” I said to myself. I put my purse under my arm holding it like that and opened the letter.

Dear Y/n Ironside,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing you this letter in ask of help as Y/n, not as Ævi. I have been dreading putting this to words, because I have not yet accepted what has happened.

The Germans have come to Borgheim and have taken over. This has cost a lot of pain and loss. We lost our fight and we lost a lot of people. My husband and Else have lost their lives because of this.

The last time I felt this alone was when I left Kattegat by myself. But Now I am asking you as an old friend to please be here. I miss you deeply and hope you are doing well y/n.

Vera

I closed my eyes Imagining the horrible things she had to endure, while I was here. Ignoring the fact that there is a war going on. How stupid am I. I felt bad by how happy I was here. I felt bad I was even forgetting that there was a war. I might not be able to change certain things in history, but I could’ve helped people where ever I could. I need to go back to Norway.

How am I gonna tell Bucky this..

...

Let me know what you think :)

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

@darkdragonphoenix @toribentleyva

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

Text

Dream Analysis

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: vomiting, detailed crime discussion, mentions of sexual assault (to victim, not reader)

A/N: THIS IS PART ONE TO A POSSIBLE THREE PART IMAGINE. It’s based on a request. I’ll answer the request after I post this. Uhm, as always, make sure to like, comment, share, and send me asks! I am but a humble writer in need of validation. Thank you for giving my last Spencer Reid post lots of love, it helped me to motivate myself enough to write this one. I hope you enjoy! (Also, this would be a season five Spencer. Like, just after he stops using his cane. (But also that cane, ugh. He such a little old man and I love it. Jesus this Man™.))

—

The dream started with a kiss.

One of those movie kisses where the rain is soaked in your clothes but you can’t feel the cold for the heat coming from the body pressed so close to you that you can feel his heart beat through your shirt.

His hands are splayed on either side of your face, and while everything about the kiss is rough and passionate, like he can’t get enough of kissing you, his hands are gentle. When he pulls away, it’s with great reluctance. You try to follow his mouth with your own, desperate for more, but you stop when he chuckles.

“I’ve played this over and over in my mind but I’ve never thought I would actually be here, kissing you.” You reach up to push a wet curl from his forehead only for the image to change.

You’re still just as close to the man in front of you, your hand is still raised to push back his hair, but there are tears in his eyes now. They’ve spilled over his cheeks and puddled into the floor. The tears come up to your ankles and fill the room wall to wall, the water is so clear that you can see each individual fleck of gray in the marble flooring. Tiny fish dance around your toes, thousands darting back and forth between you and the man.

“Spencer, why are you crying?” You step around the fish nibbling at your ankles, finally pushing back the lock of hair that curls on his forehead. But Spencer is gone, and in his place is a little boy with the same curls and big brown eyes.

“I broke my glasses, but I didn’t mean to.” He says, tears pouring from his eyes. The room continues to fill up, the water just as clear as before. You wipe the water from his cheeks, giving what you hope is a gentle smile. His glasses, broken just as he said, have sunk to the floor.

“That’s okay. Let’s just find your mommy and daddy, I’m sure they’re looking for you. Do you know where they are?” This isn’t something new for you, you deal with a lot more kids then you would like in your line of work. Usually missing from their parents or in extremely dangerous situations.

“They don’t know where I am.” You rub his tiny arms in your hands, looking around the otherwise empty room for anyone. It’s only you and the little boy, and then just a quickly it’s only you. You’re floating in the water now, but you aren’t afraid.

Maybe there is more to the dream, maybe there isn’t, but when you wake up that’s all you remember.

The sun doesn’t even filter through the window when you open your eyes for the day, the clock on your nightstand reading 5:40 in the morning. Behind you, your fiancé has wrapped you into his chest with an arm draped over your side. His breath fans across the back of your neck and his hair tickles your shoulder.

You could stay like this all day long, cacooned into the arms of the man you love, except the paranoia that hits you is like a truck and you physically can’t restrain yourself from going to check on your daughter.

As quietly as possible, you slip from his arms, being careful not to make a sound as you slip off the mattress and across the floor. The door creaks on its hinges and Spencer stirs, his hand opening and closing at the empty spot like he was trying to find you.

When you finally make it into the nursery, you relax at the complete normalcy of the surroundings. No smashed or open windows, no lights left on, no one hiding behind doors or under cribs. Just your five month old baby asleep in the corner of her crib, the small stuffed bunny Spencer bought from the hospital gift shop is tucked under one of her chubby arms.

When you reach out to smooth a tuft of her feathery soft hair back into place, she stirs just a little and you freeze. You love her more than life itself, but if she could just stay asleep for now that would be spectacular.

“We’re going to have a hard time getting rid of that stuffed animal when she gets older, aren’t we?” You heard him coming from the creak of your bedroom door, not even bothering to turn around as you directed the question over your shoulder. Spencer comes to stand beside you, his hands gripping the top of the crib as you both watch your daughter sleep.

“Yes, but on the plus side, studies show that children with comfort objects are less shy and more focused than children without them. Even more so, children with comfort objects are more adventurous and independent because it helps them to go outside of their comfort zones without their parents.” You lean your head on his shoulder, content to stay like this forever.

“We’re not weird for watching her sleep?” He places a kiss to your temple, a smile tugging at his lips as your daughter reaches up to rub at her tiny ear.

“It’s common practice among parents.” One of his hands slips behind you to rub circles into your lower back. You’re not sure how long you stay like that until you peak a glance at the clock on her dresser. You and Spencer have to be at work in about an hour.

Lifting your head, you playfully pat his butt before making your way to the bathroom in your bedroom.

“Meet me in the shower?” You keep your voice pitched low, looking over your shoulder and winking mischievously.

“Actually, most sex-related injuries take place during shower sex. Penile fractures, sprained ankles, there are even reports of broken ribs.” The door to the nursery clicks shut as you step through your bedroom door, not even bothering to grab an outfit before heading to the bathroom.

Spencer stands in the doorway, his shoulder leaned against the frame as you begin fiddling with the water faucet. You make sure to keep the temperature cooler than you normally would, Spencer doesn’t like the water too hot.

“So you’re telling me that you’re going to pass on our first chance to have sex since about two weeks ago because you’re afraid you might slip?” Turning to face him, you grab the hem of you nightshirt, a t-shirt he got from Caltech but never wears, and pull it up and over your head. The morning air in the bathroom nips at your skin and goosebumps form.

His eyes darken, his tongue sweeping across his lips before he steps into the bathroom. He pulls you to him by hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You didn’t bother with a bra at night.

“No, I’m just saying you’re worth the risk.” He practically growls into the soft skin connecting your neck and shoulder, his lips hot as they suck a hickey there. Hungrily, he makes quick work of his own clothes, stumbling with you into the water stream and pulling the shower curtain close behind him.

Suffice to say, you and Spencer were just a little late to work. What with your morning shower sex that, funnily enough, resulted in you slipping and hitting your head on the wall, and rushing your daughter to the nanny’s, coupled with early morning D.C. traffic, it wasn’t really a surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.” Your head throbs as you guiltily follow Spencer into the conference room, taking your seat between Garcia and Prentiss. Hotch watches you both with eyes narrowed in disapproval.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve said before that I only let tardiness slide once. I won’t say it again.” Spencer looks at you from across the table, and the man actually has the balls to wink at you in front of everyone on the team. Now they will all know that any excuse you try to come up with will all be a lie to cover up your sex life.

Sure, they already know you sleep together, for heaven’s sake you have a five month old baby together. But they didn’t need to know that you had shower sex in the morning before coming to work.

JJ clears her throat, a small smile on her face as she turns back to the screen and continues with the case briefing. Her smile fades with every passing second, each murder being splashed across the screen with every gory detail enhanced for your eyes to see.

“Every victim is a girl between the ages of sixteen and nineteen, with brown hair and blue eyes. Each bearing signs of a sexual assault, their hands cut off and a cross cut into their foreheads post mortem.” Your stomach rolls around uneasily, your chest constricting with every picture.

You make it through the entire brief without barfing. You waste no time in grabbing your go bag and calling the nanny to let her know to drop Graeson at your mother’s tonight.

The flight to small town Texas isn’t long, but the whole way your head pounds and your stomach does flips. You wave off Spencer’s worry, chalking it up to plane sickness.

“I just need a nap, I’ll be fine.” You squeeze his hand reassuringly, leaning back and closing your eyes against the nausea that rolls through you. Your fiancé shuffles a little in his seat, squeezing your hand back to get your attention.

“You hit your head this morning, pretty hard. I mean, it woke up Graeson. What if you have a concussion?” His voice is a whisper, his eyes searching for any other symptoms of a concussion. You shake your head, sure that a concussion is not your issue.

“I’m almost certain that I don’t have a concussion, Spence. It’s been hours, I remember everything, my pupils aren’t dialated, right?,” He nods, looking deep into your eyes like he could x-ray the inside of your head that way, “I don’t feel dizzy, and I’m not even tired. I just think a nap will help. I’m okay.”

“Well do you feel sick?” He lifts the back of his hand to your forehead, his knuckles cool against your skin.

It’s funny that, even just checking you for a fever, his touch is enough to heat your cheeks. You try to swallow the urge to jump his bones when you think about this morning. Pre-slipping and hitting your head.

Spencer’s lips twitch when he catches the look in your eyes, trying to focus on your fever and not the sudden blush on your cheeks coupled with the dialation of your pupils. He knows it isn’t a concussion that caused that based solely on the fact that you shift in your seat to press your thighs together.

“Somebody keep an eye on the bathroom, they might try and join the mile high club.” Morgan teases from the couch, a smirk pulling at his cheeks. You send a mischievous smirk of your own his way as Spencer pulls his hand back into his lap.

“We did that before I got pregnant, Morgan.” Prentiss laughs, JJ smiles in amusement, and Hotch is quick to enter the conversation and cease the inappropriate teasing. He assures Morgan that no one will have or has had ‘relations’ (as he so gracefully phrases it) on the jet.

You lean back into your seat again, hoping for the love of God that you don’t have a concussion and that you’ll make it to Texas without throwing up. Spencer sits beside you, pretending to read. You know he is only pretending because every time you open your eyes, he still has his finger under the same paragraph. He doesn’t even bother to flip the pages for effect.

By the time you make it to Texas, the plane jostling you around as it makes contact with the runway, bile is starting to build in your mouth.

Hotch goes over where everyone is going one more time, collecting his things as the ride smooths. You and Prentiss have been assigned to the morgue to see the latest victim, seventeen year old Hillary Gutsham. Although looking at a mutilated teenager does not sound like the best idea while you’re fighting nausea, you don’t protest.

Rossi and Morgan are sent to the house of the last victim, and Reid and JJ are dispatched to the police station to set up the evidence board and get a geographical profile started.

“My favorite.” Spencer mumbles sarcastically against your temple as he presses a kiss to your head, giving you another once over before you part ways. “Tell Prentiss if you feel sick at any time. Maybe even have the ME double check you for a concussion.”

“I’m not having the medical examiner see if I have a concussion, Spencer. I’m fine. I’ll see you later.” Not even ten minutes later, Prentiss is holding your hair as you spill your guts onto the side of the highway.

“Are you sure you aren’t sick?” She asks once you’re back on the road, glancing over at you at the same time that she takes a turn the GPS won’t stop screaming at her to take. It says you’re another five minutes away from the morgue.

The voice seems to grate against the very nerve that throbs in your head, and finally you’ve had enough of it. You shuffle around in your bag for some ibuprofen and practically moan with relief when you find it in the bottom corner. Two clear blue pills sitting side by side in plastic and tin foil packing.

“If it isn’t motion sickness then I probably just have a really bad migraine. I used to get them bad when I was a kid, don’t let Spencer get in your head. He worries too much.” You swallow the pill dry, unwilling to wait for a pit stop at a gas station or even the now three minute wait to the morgue before getting a drink to take it.

Emily doesn’t argue, trusting that you know your own body better than she does. She does, however, lean forward and turn the volume on the GPS down. You can’t help but think how much you love her for it.

At the morgue it’s quiet. The lack of car horns, massive truck engines, and overall clamor of the road is like music to your ears.

A older lady named Dr. Hardy, the ME, leads you back as she discusses her findings with Emily. You mostly just listen, going over scenarios and theories in your head as they speak. It isn’t until Dr. Hardy reveals a new bit of information that your ears perk up.

“I did find signs of sexual assault along with some semen, both of which didn’t come as a surprise after the last five victims I autopsied from your case, however, I did find out that she was fifteen weeks pregnant. I had a DNA test run on the embryo and the semenial fluid but they weren’t a match.” At the same time, Dr. Hardy lifts the white sheet from her body.

The girl underneath is young and pretty, the only thing marring her beauty would be the deeply cut cross centered on her forehead. You don’t look to the hands, knowing that they won’t be there, instead you turn the new information over and over in your head.

You gasp.

“What? What are you thinking?” Prentiss and Dr. Hardy both look at you with curious eyes, unaware that the revelation you have just made is not about the case at all. You clear your throat, shoving the thought as deep as you can so as to not let it affect your work.

“I, uhm, she’s just so young... to be a mom.” Prentiss furrows her brows because she knows you’re lying. You know she’s going to let you get away with it when they smooth back into place.

“There’s only a nine year difference between you and her, (Y/L/N).”

“Nine years is more than people like to admit.” You look away from the girl on the table, wanting to be finished already. Prentiss doesn’t start saying her goodbyes for another fourty-five minutes.

She pesters you the whole way to the police station, but gives up when you exit the car and make a beeline for Spencer. The nausea is back, your headache gone, and your nerves are so tightly wound that you feel like you can hear the rushing of your blood in your ears.

If you were right, it had been nearly two months since your last period. But surely you would have noticed long before now if you were two months pregnant? Right? You’ve been pregnant before, infact you had done it just five months ago.

The bile rises like a wave in your mouth and you swing toward the bathroom, hand flying to your mouth just in case you don’t make it to the toilet. What help would your hand be if you throw up?

Thankfully, you make it to the toilet before you have to find out, throwing up everything but your stomach during your time in the precincts lovely restroom. The tile is just the right amount of cold to help the reality set in as you lean back against the stall door.

“Please let me have a concussion, please let me have a concussion.”

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid angst #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler

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huearmy · 4 years ago

Text

The Smell Of Truth - VI

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 6751

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Grafic description of food. If you are hungry, eat before you read this. Seriously. AND. Jungkook have a anxiety attack, the description is light and focuses mainly on techniques to control the attack, but be aware if you are sensitive to the topic. Even because I wrote this part to help those who, like me, suffer from chronic anxiety and not to trigger anything :) Be safe.

A/N: Sorry it took too long, my head is messy, and I working on something new, and didn’t ajust myself to it yet.

THIS IS A TRANSITION CHAPTHER! I HAD A HARD TIME TO DEVELOP IT AND I STARTED EVERYTHING AGAIN AT SOME POINT AFTER AN MENTAL BREAKDOWN.

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V - Chapter VII

One month has passed by since Jungkook first moved in. The apartment looks pretty much like his now, little details showing up his presence here and there, like his personal hygiene items in the bathroom, and his pairs of shoe in the shoe cabinet by the front door, the air filled with his favorite music which he discovered himself on spotify and youtube, the kitchen cabinets and the fridge are full of things you wouldn't normally buy but he would, and all of your streaming accounts now have two user profiles. At first Jungkook didn't think about it too much, you're just so welcoming to him, but he started paying attention to how he should or could or couldn't act to not bother you, since his presence itself is a big change in your routine. You made it very clear, even without saying it out loud with all the words, that this attitude was something mutual so that the two of you could live well together. Still, it wasn't a good first month... not that it was a bad one either, because it wasn't. It's just that... ________________________________________________________________________________________ First of all. In the first ten days everything was taken and shaped by the boyfriend phenomenon. Said name for this unfortunate situation involving Jackson was given by Jungkook's therapist in the first appointment, but we'll talk about this later. Basically all your attention and time were totally directed to your boyfriend during the whole period that he was in the city, and even though he preferred to stay in his own apartment instead of with you - as is usual the two of you - it looked like he had moved in, because when Jungkook wake up in the morning he is already there, in the living room monopolizing the tv, and when he was going to sleep at night, Jungkook could still hear the guy making you laugh in the kitchen. This was justified with a "Soon I have to go back to the capital to work and we will be apart from each other for a long time. We need to make up for it!" And after saying that, Jackson would pull you around the waist to kiss you on the temple, and you would just smile, avoiding eye contact with your face red. At the end of that time, Jungkook got closer to your friends - now his friends too - than to you, who live with him. Of course you tried not to leave him feeling isolated, after all Jungkook is the exception of your heart, and although you are not used to it, you have a huge affection for him... hard to explain. You did everything you could to try to make him feel comfortable around Jackson - since early on you noticed Jungkook's reservation about him - including him in the conversations and also taking time just for the two of you. But it was difficult, because besides your boyfriend, the weather closed for days canceling all picnic and park plans, an you still had two jobs to deal with, and one of them - that of the law firm - was almost abusive as much work you had to do. Jungkook noticed your exhaustion and wanted not to charge you too much, but at the same time he didn't want to give up lying on the couch with you to watch a movie late at night to receive a pet on his hair.

One night, after Jackson was gone to his apartment, the two of you were doing just that. A blanket covered the two of you on the couch, keeping you warm while a cartoon played on the TV. Jungkook's head was lying on your chest, and you lazily messed with his hair. He could hear your heartbeat, and your voice vibrate as you laugh and comment on the episode. After a while your hand stopped and there was only the sound of your heart, and he saw that you had fallen asleep.

"Y/N?" He whispered to you, getting no response. He thought that you weren't in the most comfortable of positions, with a slightly bent neck on the pillow, so he considered taking you to your room to let you sleep better... He was sleepy too. He thought about it so much, looking at you sleeping, trying to decide, that he slept above you.

Can't tell how much time has passed, probably not much, but Jungkook was even dreaming when the front door click opening broke his slumber slightly, he wasn't awake yet, but he was listening to the steps of someone walking around the apartment. It was Jackson looking for his phone he forgot. If it weren't for the TV on, he wouldn't have seen you two sleeping on the couch in the dark room, when he went to turn it off he came across the lovely scene of you two unconscious and piled up with pillows and Jungkook's stuffed bunny. After he took a picture with your phone, he went on picking you up to get you to bed, carefully taking Jungkook's arm out of your waist and pushing him aside. Needless to say, Jackson was unaware that the hybrid's protective instincts are strongest when he sleeps. You had your reasons for not telling your boyfriend about Jungkook 's past, like respecting Jungkook's privacy and feelings, and well, maybe Jackson wouldn't like knowing how you got hurt days ago, and that problem you didn't want to have to deal with. Still, maybe some little thing you should have said.

You woke up in a jump, by a scream, and a loud growl followed by a "no" that sounded more like a bark. For Jungkook, in the first few seconds, all he knew was that someone was trying to get you out of him, and never that he was going to let it happen. Jackson threw himself back against the coffee table, withdrawing his hand so as not to be bitten, feeling his heart in his throat in the greatest fright he has ever had in his life.

"JK?" You seated up.

Jungkook looked from you to Jackson, understanding what he did, his ears flatting down on his head. His fists were clenched, holding the fabric of your shirt as if his life depended on it. The other night he hurt you, Jungook felt guilty, and afraid that you would stop loving him, now in the presence of a man, he was also afraid of the punishment that he was sure would come.

"Sorry..." He muttered. "I didn't mean to... Y/N I'm sorry..." You let a relaxed laugh get out your mouth. The situation wasn't funny to you. Actually, you could see how apprehensive Jungkook was, and deduce why. On the other hand, Jackson was frightened, and not only by the jump scare, you could see he was overthinking... What you needed to do was to relax the tension of the situation, and for that you would make them see that you are relaxed. Again, you are a good actress when you need to.

"No need to apologize, JK. He scared you, didn't he?" You laugh, and then you give Jackson a mocking glare. "And you almost shit yourself..." Jackson looked outraged at you, but when he spoke there was laughter in his voice.

"Listen, young lady. I wasn't...!"

"I heard you screaming." You cut him off. "Why are you here again by the way?" You stretched and tried to fix your shirt, but Jungkook was still strongly attached to it. Jackson looked around, as if he was remembering something.

"I forgot my phone here, just don't remember where."

"I think it must be in the office. I remember you using it there" You simply said and Jackson went up the stairs with a nod.

When there was no sign of him, you finally turned your attention to Jungkook, who was still in his curled position beside you, face hidden in you. He was shaking slightly and it broke your heart. You put a hand on his head, fixing his messy hair.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I did it again." His voice was small.

You sighed, placing a kiss on the high of his head.

"You were suddenly brought up. We all got frightened. Nobody is hurt. We laughed it off. It seems to me that everything is pretty fine." You made him look at you. "If I tell you it is all okay, do you believe in me?"

He nodded. "But Jackson... I showed him my teeth. He may be mad at me, and..." He gulped. "Shhhhh." You took his hands on yours, making him let go of your shirt.

"Jackson is a soft hearted guy, he won't be mad at you for something like this. And if it makes you feel better I can talk to him..."

"No!" He exclaimed, interrupting you. "Don't tell him nothing. You'll have to explain about me and I don't want to..."

"It's ok. If you don't want me to say nothing. I won't." You promised. Jungkook hugged his bunny with one of his arms, lowering his eyes.

"It's just that I don't want anyone to know where I came from, or what I did. I didn't tell you everything, even though I trust you... I trust you only."

You can relate with that, you can understand why he doesn't want to expose himself. It's fear of rejection, and you can do nothing but respect, and also, give all the love you have to give, and hope that at least half of it reaches his heart.

"Come here." You opened your arms to him. "Need me to put you to bed?" He laughed.

"No. Thanks."

You pulled from each other, and you got up from the couch, picking up the pillows and the blanket. Jungkook was weeping tears on his cheeks and looking cute.

"Damn, I'm crying again..." He chuckled, turning the TV off.

"Good night, JK." You fondly said.

"Good night, Y/N. Sleep well."

He followed you with his eyes until you disappeared up the stairs and the light went out. His mind was totally against it, but his gut was telling him to follow you, he didn't know why. But he did. As soon as he heard your footsteps close to your bedroom's door, he ran on tiptoe, making no noise, and stopped at the top of the stairs. He listened. Jackson was in the room with you.

"What do you want to ask?" Your voice reached his ears. "It can wait till tomorrow, babe, don't worry." Jackon responded.

In the dark, Jungkook got close to the door and crouched against the wall - so if any of you decided to leave the room out of nowhere, you wouldn't see him there, only if you turned on the corridor light, which you normally don't do. "Spill it, Jackson." You opened a jar of fancy eye cream, to try to combat the huge dark circles that were installed on your face.

Jackson leaned against the dresser beside you, with his hands in his sweatpants pockets, and said without looking at you.

"I've been thinking about it for some days, I figured you would tell me at some point but you didn't. And after what just happened I'm even more curious about it. How did you meet Jungkook? Where is he from? And why did you decide to adopt him?" You sighed, knowing that this matter would eventually come up. Outside, Jungkook gulped.

"He's a rescue case. I didn't work directly with the legal process, it was a prosecutor friend of mine who indicted his former owners. When he was left without an owner and nowhere to go I decided to help, and that's it. There is no explanation for why I wanted him, or vice versa. Jungkook is just special to me."

You calmly spoke.

"His former owner was arrested?"

"Yeah. For money laundering and conspiracy." Jungkook felt a shiver down his spine. He knew you were going to lie now, or at least not answer, because it's not just his secret, it's yours too. And for some reason he felt like you had to lie to your boyfriend because of him. But technically this last part isn't a lie, his former owner really got arrested for money laundering and conspiracy, it's just that there were many more accusations against him besides these, like exploitation of hybrids, homicide, human trafficking and prostitution, among others, but that part Jackson doesn't need to know.

Jackson hesitated.

"Does Jungkook have a history of abuse?" Jackson said, and Jungkook couldn't define by his tone what he was thinking, it was too flat.

You, on the other hand, were feeling in court, being questioned by lawyer Jackson Wang. He already had a point of view, he just wanted to make you confirm. But you are smart too.

"Why are you asking this?" You crossed your arms.

"He was aggressive down stairs, in the living room, not even ten minutes ago. I know that hybrids with difficult pasts can be violent." He responded.

"That's not what I asked. Why are you, Jackson, asking that? What does it matter to you?" You were incisive. A moment of silence passed.

"I'm worried, I guess. You are living with him now. Hybrids can be dangerous." Part of you understand, a little bigger part got pissed.

"I've been surrounded by hybrids since I was born. I literally work with them every day, both in my stores, both in my legal area. Because my expertise is in the rights and protection of hybrids in case you forgot, Jackson. I know what I am doing." Each word came firmly out of your mouth. "Besides, Jungkook is my friend, you can't just assume he is dangerous."

"He almost bit me! Growled at me!" He snapped, and it longer felt like a conversation, but an argument.

"Jackson what would happen if you wake me up one hour sooner than I planned to wake up?" You put your hand on your hips. "You would complain." He replied as if your question had nothing to do with the matter.

You made a sign with your hands as if the answer was obvious.

"Exactly. And that's what he did. The only difference is that he can growl, besides talk, to express his discontentment, and we can't. End of story."

Jackson pinched his nose, clear sign that he knows you got a point. But it wasn't done yet.

"I understood that part, and I'm sorry. Even so, I'm worried. Because you know him and trust him, but I don't. How can I know that when you are alone it will not hurt you?"

In the dark, Jungkook bit his lip, feeling terrible, because he already did hurt you.

You were feeling worked up, more than you should. You walked past him, stomping.

"I don't want to talk about it. We know... You know very well, that no one needs a traumatic past to be violent. You see bad people with perfect lives everyday on your job." You fumed, and when he tried to respond you spoked above him. "The past of a free hybrid belongs to the one who abused them and not to them. All the bad things were done by other people, and judging them for these things is prejudiced. And I will not tolerate you being prejudiced, Jackson."

At that point you were crying. At the beginning of the conversation, you were trying to be rational and calculate what to say so as not to miss out on anything you shouldn't, to avoid contradicting yourself, to avoid the conversation. But something from then on was a trigger for you. Jackson was without reaction for a moment. Jungkook had to restrain himself from entering the room to comfort you, all his instincts telling him to do so.

"Y/N..." Jackson tried.

"No. Listen." You took a deep breath. "I understand your worry. My mom probably will say the same thing when she meets him, and she is one of the people who taught me these things I just said... But that's the thing, Jackson: you don't need to know about the traumas and hurts, and terrible things that happened with Jungkook - or anyone else - to know him. You can know him for who he is today. I'm living with him for about a week and I already know he is a incredible smart boy, absolutely good in almost everything he does, and that he is afraid of the microwave, and he loves sweet things, especially if he can mix everything up in a misshapen sugar mass that no one else would eat, and the key of his heart is a little bit of attention because... Because he is content with so little. No matter the crumb of love you give him, he will be happy... And that's why I wanted to give him everything... The whole world..."

You were pouting, and tears were running down your cheeks, and your voice was so small. You were so small right now. Jackson reached you and pulled you to a tight hug. You hold him too, sobbing lightly.

In the corridor Jungkook got on his feet and wiped his own tears. He needed to process everything he heard. All the things you said about hybrids and about him, and the fact that you cried because of him. He didn't know what it was, but a feeling so warm on his chest promised that it would be hard to get to sleep again that night, thinking about these things and you. It was really horrible not to be able to enter the room so that he could hug you, and answer everything you said with his feelings - even if he couldn't explain everything, just because he can't name everything. He silently walked down the corridor to the stairs, heading for his room.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry. I don't even know why I'm crying... " You whined, weeping your nose with a chuckle. "I'll be all puffy tomorrow morning and the fault is all yours." Jackson laughed, pushing your hair away from your wet face.

"I'm sorry. Really, I didn't intend to be a jerk or anything. But I think I needed this conversation, I always learn a lot from you... And I think you needed this conversation too, you needed to put some things out, otherwise you wouldn't have cried." He charmly smiled. "You must be right. But seriously...!" You slapped his forearm. "I would be less pissed if you had a silly jealous tantrum or something like that. It would be easier to solve, just ignore it."

"Yah! Why would I be jealous of you? I know the day you find I guy more amazing than me you will let me know right away. Broke up with me by massege or something like this." "Shut up." You slapped him again. "You didn't turn off the flower shop's alarm when you arrived, right?"

"No." He shook his head.

You smiled wildly.

"So take off your pants and spoon-sleep with me." _________________________________________________________________________________ Then all of Jungkook's documents arrived in the mail, including an adoption request certificate - which was false, made by some of his contacts in the organization - a definitive guardianship certificate that specifies you as his legal guardian and not as owner - a small advance in the law - and that gives him some freedom that most hybrids don't have, like walking around by himself, and at last but not least, his hybrid id.

With all this in hand you finally got to make Jungkook's first appointment with a psychologist. Together you both researched some names of professionals in the field, including the three that the doctor gave you the other day, and some others indicated by friends of yours. One way or another you would have to leave the city to go to the appointments, since your city is small and you didn't find anyone in the region, so one of the criteria for choosing was distance. Another, of course, was the professional background and branch of psychology, and that part was more with you. On the other hand, Jungkook literally chose the cover of the book. When he didn't like the person's face they were automatically excluded from the list.

"And if I get there and right away I don't like their smell... I'm leaving." He declared. "Of course. You must be comfortable." You agreed. "What do you think about this one? He is young but the curriculum is impressive... And he has a support therapy group with hybrids, which is really cool."

Jungkook took your notebook to put on his own lap to get a closer look. You started your research hours earlier, in your office, but after a long time sitting in chairs that left you both with a sore ass, a break to eat pizza and put on pajamas, you were still trying to choose someone, but now under the covers in your bed with the TV on. The website that was open was a clinic specializing in hybrids, and on the page that Jungkook was looking at had a picture of a young man with a bright smile.

"Dr. Jung Hoseok..." He mumbled to himself.

"He looks nice right? There's some patient testimonials..." You were about to ask him if he wanted to read it but he was faster.

"I want him."Jungkook looked at you with determined eyes. "I like him. Is the first one we see that is truly smiling."

He was planning to choose a woman, because he thought he would be more comfortable than with a man, but this one looked perfect in a way that no one else has looked until now.

"Ok, then. I'm calling them tomorrow morning." You smiled at him. ___________________________________________________________________________ Much to the disappointment of Jungkook and yours too, Dr. Jung's schedule was packed with lecturers and courses, so he wouldn't be able to start therapy immediately as you both imagined, leaving the first meeting with him for the following month only.

So this is it ... A whole month of a lot of rain, in which you were very busy with your boyfriend and your job, without being able to do therapy, without leaving home most days. Without realizing it, Jungkook was building up a terrible bad mood. At first you didn't even notice, because Jungkook is quiet most of the time, and you were too focused on difficult texts full of legal terms that fry your brain. But one morning, the first in weeks when the sky was blue and you had no work to do... The first morning that you slept till late and woke up with a smile on your puffy face, opened the bedroom curtain as a Disney princess would, and hopped down the stairs in a good perfect mood ... That morning you noticed.

"Gooood morning!" You literally sang, passing by Jungkook, who was eating his cereal, standing by the counter. He didn't respond, and you interpreted as his sleep non talking state. "I'm in the mood for eggs and bacon today... maybe a sandwich too. Do you want it? My god I can eat the whole world today..." "No. I could have made myself a sandwich if I wanted to."

You raised your eyebrows, a little surprised, taking milk, eggs, cheese, onion, tomatoes and mayo from the fridge. A second passed before Jungkook added in a grumpy voice:

"Thank you."

On a frying pan you put some butter to melt and brown the bread, and in another one you broke three eggs leaving room for some slices of bacon. At the delicious sound of those ingredients popping on the fire, you started cutting a tomato, and decided to add lettuce and left over chicken from the night before on your sandwich. The kitchen's air was filled with the pleasant smell.

"Are you sure you don't wan't not even the eggs and bacon?" You asked again, turning said bacon so that the two sides would be equally delicious. As a precaution you browned two more slices of bread.

"You don't have to bother." Jungkook murmured, without taking his eyes off the dull cereal bowl in front of him, but still his nose worked to identify the smells in the air. You put a slice of mozzarella cheese and a cheddar cheese on top of the hot bread slices, and immediately the cheese started to melt beautifully. In the pan that no longer were the bread, you put some onion to caramelize.

"No bother. Today is a perfect day, and it’s been a while since I’ve prepared breakfast for you, or that we ate just the two of us..." You gladly spread the shredded chicken over the cheese, and then the mayonnaise over the chicken...

Behind you, Jungkook sighed, and you could hear his lazy steps towards you. Over your shoulder he placed the empty bowl in the sink. He looked at what you were doing and his mouth watered.

"I want mine with ketchup, too." He declared with a frown.

"Get it from the fridge for me, then." You simply said. He obeyed. With one hand you put the ketchup on his sandwich - which you were already making because you knew he would want it, and if he didn't want it you would eat it yourself - and with the other you put the fire out of the pan with eggs and bacon. "Do you want the eggs and bacon in or out of the sandwich?"

In."

You were inspired, so even the olive on a stick on top of the huge sandwich you put. A beautiful sandwich.

"Sit." You happily pulled a chair for yourself. The first bite was heaven for you, making you moan as you chew slowly with eyes closed. You sighed deeply. "Working from home but not getting a decent breakfast like that every day sucks."

No response. Jungkook was eating with pleasure - as always - but still didn't seem ready to talk. You looked him up and down. You were proud to see that after a month of living with you, he now had the most rosy cheeks and healthiest skin, and clearly gained considerable weight, thanks to the complete and balanced diet that you guaranteed he had. But he wasn't supposed to be in a bad mood. He was supposed to be happy. When was the last time he brushed his hair?

"What are your plans for today?" As if you want nothing, you asked.

"Have any." He didn't even look at you to speak, instead he got up and opened the fridge. "Want juice?"

Okay, you think he's not upset with you.

"Sure." You waited for him to sit back in front of you. "I have to visit some of my stores today, since I've been so busy and haven't had time to check them out in the past two weeks. But I don't even call it work, because it's going to be fast, and I personally love to see how business is going... Do you want to go with me?"

For the first time this morning, he looked at you with interest. Still, it was not the enthusiasm you were expecting, nor an answer, so you continued.

"We can buy useless things, eat ice cream and go to the park... And this time really enjoy it. The weather forecast guarantees that it will be sunny all day." You expectantly rested your chin on the palm of the hand.

Looking at you shining eyes, Jungkook nodded with a small smile. You almost jumped from your chair.

"Remember we tried to play frisbee, and I kind of found out that my little cute arms weren't made for that?"

He shook his head with a mocking smirk.

"If it doesn't go far enough to run after it, it's no fun."

"YEAH... Then it started raining and we came home, and we never talked about it again ... "You put your hands together." It turns out that I saw something on the internet that I thought was incredible and I bought it, and we can try it today."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.

"This." You showed him your phone.

A wild smile spread on his face and he reclined in the chair. He looked at you one more time and tossed his chin slightly, a quirk that you know by now that means he is accepting a challenge.

"I'm washing the dishes, and then I'll get ready." He stuffed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and swallowed the juice in one gulp, rising from the table with determination. ________________________________________________________________ You own a very wide variety of store types, your family practically founded the city generations ago, so what they didn’t open, they invested for someone to open it, it was how you all got rich, and that’s why so many places have your last name on the signboard, and half of them really are yours. The two of you went through your bookstore and music store, the bakery and the karaoke bar... Most of these places Jungkook didn't know yet, and it was interesting to see how you behave with the people that work to you.

It is different from how you act with him, gentle and bright all the time, smooth and carefree, just taking care of him with little things here and there. It is also different from how you act with Taehyung and Jimin, you are relaxed and fun with them, even in the office, when you the lynx are working, you are clearly best friends, and act together as an unbeatable team. It is not as if you stop having all these adjectives or change your personality, but that you put on a layer of boss to act in the presence of your employees. Your usual sweet tone of speech was accompanied by firmness, and even though you were friendly, calling everyone by name, you did not reach out to talk too much to anyone - focusing only on checking if everything was in compliance and solving what needed to be resolved.

Jungkook found it interesting, because it reminded you a lot of how you acted the day you met. You were kind enough for him to trust you, and you were also strong for him to trust you.

And what Taehyung said earlier was true, all of your stores had hybrid employees, at least one. Jungkook was already used to one of the florists in your flower shop being a fox girl - which turns all red and hides each time he appears -, but it was nice to see others like him in other places. Every one of them seemed so happy to see you. Maybe they also smell the truth on you.

"My first part-time job was in the flower shop, I was sixteen. I bought it from my aunt and then it was my first store too. That's why I like living there... It's an important place for me." You told him, turning off the engine of the SUV. You were in the park parking lot, ready to have burgers and fries for lunch - a little treat for yourself after a month without a day off. The plan was a picnic but you forgot the towel or bringing good food, so eating in the car was plan B.

"This is really cool. If you only worked at the store, how did you buy it? With what money?" Jungkook was a lot more talkative now. Leaving the house for a while was what he needed, he must be feeling trapped.

"I found an investor. In other words, I convinced my grandmother to give me the money." You laughed. "It was a little difficult because I was underage yet..."

"Did you buy your first store at sixteen?"

You simply nod. Jungkook was shocked. At sixteen his life was very different from yours, this is nothing new, but it is still strange to think of the chasm between you two...

"At sixteen I was already in clandestine fights for two years." He said, and it was as if one of the million pieces of weight he feels on his chest was gone. It didn't seem much compared to what it was fully, but it was relieving.

On the other hand, you felt your heart break. You didn't know what to say. So many times you told him not to press himself to tell you anything, to talk when he feels ready... so you didn't expect it to be now... that way. Perhaps you were not prepared. But fuck it, you're not the one to be ready. It's him.

Maybe because of the face you made, or how you just stopped eating to look at him in an almost comic way, or because of your eyes filling with tears he added.

"I still don't want to talk about it... I didn't even want to... I don't know why it slipped out. It's just that listening to you talking about your past is so..." He seemed lost in words, not knowing how to organize what to say. "I see you so bright! I wanted to be bright too... I've been thinking about it a lot... About having a job. And... And..."

He looked frustrated. You still didn't know what to say, or if you should say something, so you just held Jungkook's greasy hand from eating fries with your greasy hand from eating fries.

"I want to be the owner of my future." He concluded, remembering what you said the other night.

"A jog is a good first step, JK. I'm proud of you. You have all my support, I can give you a job or help you get one... wherever you want." You intertwined your fingers with his.

He let out a long breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He was shaking, and he knew you were feeling it in the hand you were holding, if you couldn't see it too.

"I also have another favor to ask." His voice was shaky, but his eyes didn't leave yours, just like when he asked to be with you.

"Anything." You whispered, mouth dry.

Something inside you told you that this was the purest truth about your relationship with Jungkook. That you would definitely do anything for him. You also felt that it should terrify you, just it didn't.

Jungkook took his old wallet out of his pocket and opened it for you to look inside. The photo of two hybrid boys smiling, hugging each other, made you smile too.

"You are the small one." You pointed.

Jungkook nodded.

"The other one is my hyung. We live together on a breeding farm. I think there was a lab too, but I never went there, I don't remember... When I was robbed and sold for the fights he went too, and a few years later we were separated... Do you think you can find him?"

Jungkook didn't want false hopes. He knows better than anyone what life is like for a fighting hybrid, how it ends. But if he survived that long, then his hyung can too, and if anyone can save him, it is you. He just wanted to hear that you're going to try... Even if you only discover the worst of the possibilities... Even if you don't discover anything. Among all the terrible things in Jungkook's head, this is the one that most takes away his sleep, the one that most makes him feel guilty.

"What is his name, breed, age...? Any information you have about him." You were serious, every gear in your brain working.

"Namjoon. He was some type of wolf... Older than me, I don't remember how much." Jungkook's eyebrows came together and he bit his lip, trying to remember anything else that might help. "He loves to read... He is a good hyung... I don't know...!" "Shhh. It's ok." You took his face in your free hand. "You don't need to freak out now, if you remember something later just tell me. With his name, age and breed I can ask my organization friends for help."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For some reason the smell of the food was making him nauseous... Or it was just his anxiety messing with him. He just didn't want to eat anymore. Suddenly the car was too small and getting smaller for the second, and he couldn't breath. His body started to shake violently, and his lungs were hurting. He let go of your hand and opened the door to get out. You followed him close. Instead of going down your door and having to go around the car, you jumped into the passenger seat and got off right behind Jungkook, who was already bent over with his head between his knees. He was having an anxiety attack. You crouched in front of him and rubbed his back softly.

"Breathe with me, JK, love. Inhale for four seconds... Hold for two seconds... Release for six..." You've been there before, and breathing has always helped you more than most things, not only to stabilize your body, but also to help you focus. "Right... Again."

You breathed with him, still keeping your hand comforting on his back, but not too close to suffocate him. "You don't need to answer out loud, ok? I need you to find five things around us that you can see. Can you do this for me?"

He barely nodded, but you saw he understood. He was breathing like you told him to, opened his watering eyes and looked around. The trees. The car wheel beside him. The lake shining far away. His shoes. Your shoes.

"Now find four things you can hear." You told him after a while. The birds. Kids laughing somewhere. The radio inside the car. Your calm breathing. "You are doing great, babe. Find three things you can smell." Dirt. Freshly cut grass. You.

"At last... Two things you can touch." You took the opportunity to pet his head. The car. You.

He was calmer, his body collapsed and he ended up sitting on the ground with his face in his hands. You got up, and he didn't see where you went, but you weren't gone for long.

"Here, something to taste." You handed him a bottle of sparkling water. "I don't know if you like it, but it's good for the stomach."

He drank the bottle all at once, and made a face at the end. He doesn't like it.

"Thank you, Y/N. You are always taking care of me. Sorry." He took your hand and intertwined your fingers together.

"Silly, puppy." You smiled at him, and he could swear it is the prettiest thing ever. "You can alway take care of me too."

He wanted to look at you for a while, to be silent for a while. Think only of how sweet and beautiful you are, instead of the bad things. But you got up again, not thinking what he was thinking.

"Can you get up?" You offered help.

He accepted.

"I can do a lot of things besides getting up. I'm ready to run." He smiled wildly.

"Are you sure?" You took his face in both your hands, the color was coming back to his cute cheeks, but you were still worried. He nodded, covering one of your hands with his. You sighed. "Ok then." _______________________________________________________________ You weren't trying so hard, but you got tired just to see how fast Jungkook runs, and after an hour, you can't believe the boy's fitness. Too much stamina, Christ. As he came back to you with the frisbee in hand, at high speed, the wind in his hair made the sweaty bangs fly back. He was stunning. Wild smile and excitement making him look like a child at the same time he looked like every girl's dream boyfriend.

"Throw, another one, Y/N." He sang, already running away. You lifted the cannon frisbee launcher and opened fire. Looking up, Jungkook calculated the route of the flying thing and speeded up to catch it. Since you started playing he hasn't lost one. He only almost ran over a few unsuspecting pedestrians, but nobody got hurt. From meters away, you could hear him jumping up and down before he started running towards you once more. You definitely need to find some physical activity for this child to stay entertained and happy.

"Again!"

______________________________________________________

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