#ive been very angry about it and i just need to ...spit it up somewhere. maybe a transformers blog isnt the best place for it but whatever.

[dorkicon]

bitching abt homophobia n shit at my job in the tags o7 happy pride

[hermitblurbs]

pirates 👉👈👉👈?? Please ive binge read the blurbs and ive become obsessed,,,,,

Continuation of my Pirate AU (8)!

The pirates didn’t kill him, at first. He’s not even sure if they were pirates to begin with. They were angry, and they smelled of week old alcohol, but they didn’t matter anymore. All that does matter is that he talked his way out of it, like he talks his way out of everything.

Just… not well enough. They grab his arms, leaving smears of purple everywhere they touch, and they drag him—not kicking and screaming, he promised them compliance—all the way to their torn-up ship. Their torn-up ship that’s been patched up by the resources from his town.

He glues his mask tight enough to his face and keeps it there until he’s thrown into the cell, and even then it’s only a shift while he’s facing the wall, small enough that he can shove it back into place and disguise it as a reaction to the bruising.

“I almost wish the poor bastard’d put up more of a fight,” he hears as the pirates meander away. “Give us more of an excuse to mess up that pretty face of his.”

The next time they visit him, he spits and struggles and curses, and they beat him until his ribs ache with the memory, years later. But they keep him around. He stays alive. That’s all that matters.

When he’s not entertaining his crowd, he’s quiet and he’s listening.

If they were pirates, they weren’t very good ones.

He catches a secret when someone forgets about his existence. And the moment they begin to dock—to sell him, but if he thinks about that aspect too long he gets scared and he can’t pull this off if he’s shaking in his boots—he whispers that person’s secret back to them and threatens to shout it.

They let him slip away, cutting through the thick ropes with the help of a stranger’s knife plucked by sticky fingers.

And he’s off on another boat. The first that’ll take him. It was a fresh faced captain that dreamed of freedom.

She really didn’t last long.

Another port. Another crew. He got kicked off that one, but his pockets were full of gold—

The lantern goes out, and the dark twines around them, between his fingers and in his lungs.

He’s still on the ship with Grian.

He breathes in, tasting the same sea air as always. He breathes it out and waits for his eyes to adjust and for his heart rate to slow to a rest.

A drop of rain lands on his hand.

He doesn’t know how much of his rambling and half-sentences made sense. He doesn’t know how many times his words got caught on the lip of his mask and he has to abandon.

Grian’s eyes adjust faster than his in the early dawning light, and he nearly jumps out of his skin at a touch.

“Scar—“

“I’m alright.” He smiles, not knowing if Grian can even see that much. It still feels real.

Good. He’ll need it to get the narrative back under his thumb.

Grian fumbles a little and strikes a match, managing to light the lamp again before a spot of rain can interfere again.

He straightens once the fire takes and… turns out the clouds carried no rain at all.

Grian’s crying. Long silver trails line his cheeks, and more tears fall along blotchy red skin.

“Why are—why are you crying?” Scar asks, for once completely without a foothold on someone’s thoughts. “What did I say?”

“Why aren’t you crying?” Is the retort, barbed and sharpened. “It—that hurts to remember, doesn’t it?!”

“Wh—I’m alive. That’s what matters.”

He’s jerked down several inches and nearly loses his balance. He’s instead left staring straight into sea black eyes.

It’s unnerving. The tears don’t help.

“Somewhere along the line,” Grian hisses, “you forgot what being alive meant.”

[brackenfur]

au starting from lost stars/one non canon event mentioned but i cant stop thinking abt a scene where bramblestar slips up abt thinking abt killing firestar in sunset n how squirrel would react to that. this is a very quick drabble aka its not rly thought out or edited, i jsut needed to write and get it out somewhere ! i also cant rly definitively say that everything abt bramblestars version of events/what squirrelflight knew abt the foxtrap scene is canon-accurate since its been a minute since ive read tnp + that time period is extremely muddled in terms of which author writes it and what any cat outside of bramblestar ACTUALLY knows.

anyways tysm for reading <3

"i've sacrificed everything for this relationship, for you," bramblestar snaps, eyes that were at one moment dim and exhausted from his oncoming illness now alight with anger. "you don't even know how much pressure i was under all those years ago, after we got back together and i became deputy. i was dealing with my new position, with thunderclan's mistrust, with hawkfrost telling me to-" and he stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening just slightly as he realizes he let something slip.

squirrelflight blinks, deeply uncomfortable by his reaction. she knows that he and hawkfrost kept communicating after she and bramblestar got back together, and she knows to this day that hawkfrost never had good intentions - but there is something about the way bramblestar looks away from her, how his fur prickles along his spine, that makes her think there's more to this story.

"hawkfrost telling you to what?" she tries to keep up her bravado and confrontational tone so he doesn't detect how disturbed she's becoming, but her voice wavers. "what are you talking about?"

"nothing," he says too quickly, shaking his head. "it doesn't matter. i'm tired, squirrelflight; this leafbare is the worst i've seen, and i'm not feeling my best, either. you know that - i've been so sick, and-"

"yes, you are sick, and i've told you to rest," she reminds him, cutting him off. "and i'm sorry about that, but what are you talking about with hawkfrost?"

"i said it was nothing."

"it doesn't look like it was nothing."

bramblestar sets his jaw, shaking his head. "you know how he was. i was just going to say that he was just trying to pressure me to stop talking to you, that's it."

it doesn't feel like that was it. she has no love for hawkfrost and doesn't particularly care that he didn't like her much either - but bramblestar wouldn't be so upset and secretive about something that trivial. there's more.

"you're not telling me something," she says finally. "i know you - or, i mean, i think i know you. you're hiding something from me about hawkfrost, and i swear to starclan - we just had a conversation the other night about being truthful."

"i've always been truthful."

"it seems like you're not right now, though. i've laid out all of my secrets and told you every bad thing i've done - i've let the whole forest know my demons. not by choice, but what's done is done. there's something you're not telling me about hawkfrost - and don't tell me he didn't like me, we all know that. what was he telling you to do?"

he twitches his whiskers. "squirrelflight, you need to drop it."

this just makes her more angry. "i've told you everything i've done and you're always going on about how we need to stay truthful to each other to make this work - whatever it is, i'll listen to you about it. i know how hawkfrost was - did he want you to take over the forest, or something? i know he talked to mudclaw about things like that; he wasn't subtle about his plans to be tigerstar junior."

bramblestar looks deeply uncomfortable. "i didn't do what he wanted me to do, you know i didn't," he finally says after what seems like an hour; she blinks, unsure of what he's talking about.

"what do you mean? like...yeah, you didn't take over-"

"he wanted me to become thunderclan's leader. that's it. now, please, just drop it."

she frowns. she kind of expected that, but there's....a deep shame in his eyes, and she thinks there's an element to this story he's not saying. he's being evasive and private, and her heart begins to beat harder when she really, really thinks back on all those years ago.

a memory surfaces, one that she always thought about with pain and yet an underlying feeling of pride - for brambleclaw, for her mate, for saving her father....

it hits her then. she always thought that the foxtrap was brambleclaw's moment of undying loyalty to her father - stumbling upon hawkfrost about to kill firestar, and immediately jumping to his defense. that's always how he told it, anyways; he knew what hawkfrost wanted to do, and put an end to it.

but there were always these underlying moments that she couldn't quite place over the years - some type of underlying shame and embarrassment that she just chalked up to grief for his brother.

they look at each other, and she tries to keep calm. "when you found my father in the foxtrap," she says slowly. "did you think about letting hawkfrost kill him?"

bramblestar's beat of silence is all she needed to know; he immediately tries recovering it, though.

"squirrelflight, i would've never done that- hawkfrost and tigerstar were-"

"tigerstar? what does your father have to do with this?"

bramblestar is very quiet; she thinks that the world around them is completely silent as they stand in the middle of a snowy clearing. the cold usually heightens the sounds in the air, but in this moment all squirrelflight can hear is the thudding of her own heart.

bramblestar seems like he's trying to piece his thoughts together carefully; she forces herself to wait until he finally says: "i was never going to do it," he says, voice tight with emotion. "squirrelflight, i loved your father - you know that." she can barely hear him anymore as she finally grasps what exactly he's telling her. "my father and my brother- you've heard about how they are from lionblaze and ivypool and the others that went to the dark forest, how could i have- they were my family once, i thought that maybe-"

so that was his big secret, the one that he never meant for her to uncover. everything makes a little more sense now; the guilt and shame in bramblestar's eyes for those first seasons after hawkfrost's death whenever he'd look at firestar, the overcompensation bramblestar tried to preform as deputy. it wasn't because he felt like he allowed his brother to cause harm to firestar before saving him, it was-

"hawkfrost told you to kill firestar," she says softly, looking up at her mate. "but that- if it was just that, you would have told me, not lead me to believe that hawkfrost was the one who wanted to do it all along," she feels herself shaking as the shame begins to come back into bramblestar's expression. "you thought about, didn't you? about killing my father so you could become leader?"

bramblestar gives one moment of hesitation, and she shakes her head.

"i'm going to be sick," she says quickly, stepping away from him.

"i didn't hurt him. it wasn't-"

"this whole time, you've shamed me and made me feel like the worst cat that's been born because i kept a secret for my sister," she almost spits, her fur raising. "i don't know if i was morally right or wrong, i don't know what anyone else would do in my paws during that time - but you made me feel like i was worthless for a year because i protected leafpool, and now i finally get to know that you not only met up frequently with tigerstar but that you actually- you thought about killing my father. you thought about hurting firestar just so you could become leader."

ashfur's jibe all those years ago suddenly makes more sense - after the fire, the way he bumped into her with his shoulder and sneered you don't really even know your own mate, do you?

who knew that even after all this time after his death, ashfur still got the last laugh.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

--

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once. 

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though. 

Dammit. 

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday. 

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today. 

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again. 

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see. 

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit. 

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance. 

This just wasn’t allowed. 

-

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you. 

With both arms. 

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly. 

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head. 

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked. 

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened. 

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger. 

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow. 

Jungkook's eyes went wide. 

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing. 

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up. 

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram. 

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos. 

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good. 

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left. 

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face. 

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. 

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..." 

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips. 

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl. 

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice. 

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair. 

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine. 

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused. 

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting. 

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted. 

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts. 

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you. 

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie. 

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes. 

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination. 

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close. 

So close. 

Ruin me. 

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely. 

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise. 

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused. 

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. 

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you. 

I want to ruin you. 

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However. 

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow. 

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk. 

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin. 

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

-

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

--

masterpost

[hurting-fictional-people]

Okay guys, so I think I’m getting attached to these characters and might have more ideas for them... so please let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more?

CW: (putting them here because tumblr decided to be weird about my tags tonight) a whole lot of angst and betrayal, stabbed whumpee (recovering from it... kinda), collar and chains, IV mention. Please tell me if I missed something

Continued from here

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer and @swift-perseides

-

“You said you’d set Whumpee free if I gave you the information,” someone hisses somewhere above them.

The timbre of that voice is a familiar caress, soothing the uneasiness that threatened to take over as soon as consciousness approached. Still, there’s a sharp edge to it that propels Whumpee’s eyes to flutter open, even as it calms the fear.

“Can you prove it?” 

That’s the sound that truly awakens them. The sound they hoped never to hear again, that sends chills down their spine and makes them squint their eyes against the dim light and groggily look around.

“Can I p– you know you said it, Whumper. Stop fucking around,” Caretaker growls. “If you don’t want to let me go, then fine. Keep me here. Torture me if you will. But leave them alone.”

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Whumper sighs.

Someone towers over Whumpee, large shoulders they know better than their own stand by their bed, restraining their line of sight to the wall to their right and the one in front of their bed.

“I gave you what you wanted. Now let them go.”

Before they can think about it, before they can even truly remember where they are or why or with whom, their hand reaches out and touches the soft skin of Caretaker’s arm, making them stiffen and turn around with a furrowed brow over softening eyes.

“You’re awake.”

It’s the worry underneath the words that brings it all back. The betrayal months before, all the hurt and bitterness, and then those last hours – minutes? – with a hole in their abdomen silently draining their life away, suffocating in pain.

They pull their hand back.

“What happened?” Whumpee rasps out, only then noticing how dry their throat feels. 

They know what happened. Every second of it is etched on their mind forever, but the question still slips out, the need for reassurance bigger than anything else.

“I got you fixed,” Caretaker gives them a sad smile, “just like I promised I would.” 

“Actually, I got you fixed,” Whumper says, walking around Caretaker to stop in front of Whumpee’s bed. “You’re welcome.”

Whumpee’s eyes dart between the two of them, narrowing at the way Whumper’s gaze shines with something dark while Caretaker holds themself statue still. 

“How are you feeling, dear?” Whumper asks.

“Like I’ve been stabbed,” they grumble, frowning when Whumper chuckles. “Why am I not dead?” 

“Poor thing, you were really out of it, weren’t you?” Whumper smiles as they hold Whumpee’s ankle through the sheets and rub circles that would’ve been calming coming from anyone else. “Caretaker took the deal in the end. Almost too late, but my doctors are pretty good, so you should heal just fine. If given proper time, that is.”

“So, what now?” they ask, half wanting to just close their eyes and pretend to still be asleep. Their throat pleads for water, but they don’t want to ask either of them, so they just swallow saliva and pretend it helps.

“Well, that’s a question for Caretaker to answer,” Whumper says, turning toward the third person in the room, the one keeping disturbingly silent, arms crossed and jaw clenched. Probably regretting saving them in the first place.

But Caretaker doesn’t say anything. All they do is glare at Whumper from their spot beside Whumpee’s bed.

“What do you mean?” Whumpee asks after a few seconds, stifling a yawn, eyelids pleading to close.

“They mean that they have no word,” Caretaker snaps. “Whumper wants to make another bargain even though they never fulfilled the first one.”

“Fine. But why am I here?” Whumpee whispers, forcing their eyes to stay open long enough to hear the answer.

“Because you’re the bargaining chip, lovely,” Whumper smirks, squeezing Whumpee’s ankle until they gasp.

Whumpee’s heart drops to the floor, and then lower. 

Caretaker has saved them once, which was a miracle in itself. Expecting them to do it twice is just too much. 

“Can we discuss this later, since you don’t seem inclined to negotiate right now?” Caretaker nods toward the door. “Whumpee needs to rest.”

“I guess they will be needing their strength very soon if you don’t change your mind,” Whumper sighs, winking at Whumpee as they walk to the door. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for now.”

The lock clicks behind them, but neither Caretaker nor Whumpee acknowledges it. They’re too busy staring at each other to do much else. 

Deep bags mar the skin under Caretaker’s eyes, just like it always happens when they don’t get enough sleep, and Whumpee hates themself for still remembering that.

“Why did you–“ save me, Whumpee tries to say, but their voice fails when a dry cough makes their chest heave and their wound hurt. 

Caretaker is immediately leaning close, one hand splayed on their back and the other on their tight, each touch raising goosebumps along their skin. “W-water,” they rasp, closing their eyes at the humiliation.

But Caretaker doesn’t seem to notice how defeated Whumpee’s eyes are, how their cheeks burn red for having to ask them for something so simple. They simply grab a plastic water bottle from the bedside table and hand it to Whumpee. They gulp down the entire thing.

“How are you feeling?” Caretaker asks once they sag back on the mattress.

“Like shit.”

It’s true, but the irritated tone is nothing but a defense mechanism, and they fear as much as they hope that Caretaker notices it. 

The pain is a constant weight in Whumpee’s stomach, and the medication slowly dripping into their veins through an IV makes them nauseous and sleepy, but none of it makes Whumpee any less confused or sad whenever they look at Caretaker.

Why did Caretaker save them? A blurry memory tickles their brain, of sobs that didn’t come from their lips, of trembling hands holding theirs, warm lips kissing their forehead when they couldn’t convince their eyes to stay open anymore. It dissolves before they can grasp it, leaving only an empty feeling behind.

“You should sleep,” Caretaker says when the silence grows uncomfortable.

“Are you regretting saving me already?” Whumpee whispers, averting their gaze.

“What? No.” It sounds so real they almost believe it. They want to, so badly, but they’d already made the mistake of trusting Caretaker once before. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There’s a hurt edge to their voice that makes Whumpee’s eyebrows rise as they look Caretaker straight in the eye. “Tell you what?”

“What Whumper did. That you were bleeding out.”

Oh.

“You could’ve died, Whumpee. You almost did. If you had just told me they had stabbed you, it would never have gotten to that point.”

“Why do you sound so angry? You’re the one who taught me not to trust anyone. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you but I’d do it again’, remember? You are the one who said those words. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it would matter.”

Caretaker furrows their brows, opens their mouth, and turns around. Before they do, though, Whumpee catches the flash of pain and sadness crossing their eyes and pretends not to notice the glint of tears there.

The seconds tick by, and as the silence extends, pain and exertion make Whumpee’s eyes take longer and longer to open each time they blink. They are almost asleep when Caretaker’s voice sounds again.

“It’s not true, you know. It would’ve mattered. It’ll always matter when it comes to you.”

But Whumpee is already dreaming once they stop talking.

-

“So, have you made your choice?” Whumper asks from behind a ridiculously large desk. Caretaker folds their arms and doesn’t fight the will to bare their teeth. “We’ve talked through it already, Caretaker. It won’t even be any sort of bother, you just have to go in, pretend I let you free, and come back with the drive I gave you.”

“You and I both know it’s not that simple. You want me to infiltrate my own team, lie to their faces, and hand our biggest enemy a drive filled with classified information,” they bite back, hands curling into fists.

“Well, you can always say no,” Whumper leans back in their chair and grins. “You know I’ll even let you walk out if you do. And then I’ll have a pretty little pet to play with. The only downside is that dear Whumpee won’t last very long as my plaything with that wound of theirs.”

The words might as well be a blade sinking into their heart. And Whumper knows it, relishes the knowledge, laughing when Caretaker holds their breath.

It’s been three days since Whumpee’s woken up. Three days of poorly hiding the desperate need to be by their side, to make sure nothing would ever hurt them again. Three days of knowing that each small noise of pain Whumpee lets out, each hazy look they get whenever Caretaker says something kind or offers help, each distrustful glance, it’s all Caretaker’s fault.

Whumper doesn’t even bother hiding how much pleasure they take from locking Caretaker up until they can’t help but bang on the door and beg to see Whumpee. And when they do, it’s only to be hit by a new wave of pain breaking against their heart, flooding their veins with sorrow every time their eyes meet. 

“Don’t fucking touch them,” Caretaker spits out, taking a step forward before they can stop themself.

“Is that a ‘yes Whumper, I agree with your terms’ I’m hearing, dear?”

“How can I trust you won’t hurt them while I’m gone?”

Whumper’s lips tug upwards, growing into a mocking, open smile. “You can’t. And I won’t even bother promising I won’t. So if I were you, I’d hurry up, because each second you try to stall me makes me even more excited to play with little Whumpee, and I don’t think they’ll appreciate my games as much as I will.”

It’s almost funny how a handful of words is capable of completely shattering someone’s heart, of stealing the ground from under their feet and filling them with dread all at once. 

“Don’t you dare touch them,” Caretaker says, but it’s scared and quivery and both of them notice. “How the fuck do you expect me to leave with you saying you’ll hurt Whumpee?”

“Do they know how much you care about them?” Whumper muses, getting up and sauntering around the table. “Because I remember rather clearly Whumpee telling me you’d sooner offer them ruin than help.”

“What do you care?” they say through clenched teeth.

“It’s just intriguing how desperate you are to keep them safe and how oblivious they are of it. What did you do to make them so distrustful of you?”

Tore their heart apart with my bare hands. The answer comes to their mind unbidden, bringing a sharp twist of pain along with it. They can still see Whumpee’s shocked face, tears streaming down their cheeks, eyes desperately searching theirs for an excuse that wasn’t there for a treason they had no way to deny, no matter how much they wished to. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I did it for the greater good, and I’d do it again, Caretaker had said with all the pride and coldness a soldier could master. 

They had kept their own tears for later, when no one could see them shatter.

“Is your life so miserable you have to feed off of someone else’s or are you just a nosy bastard?”

Whumper laughs, and they wish they could punch that laugh out of that smug face. “I’ll give you the details now and you’ll leave tomorrow. And just because of the insult you won’t get to say goodbye to Whumpee.”

Caretaker glares in response but doesn’t argue. They don’t deserve to be near Whumpee, not after everything, and are pretty sure Whumpee wouldn’t want it either. Besides, the simple thought of seeing the face they love so fiercely fill with suspicion each time Caretaker opens their mouth makes them want to weep. 

Still, as long as they are alive to do so, Caretaker will gladly take the suspicion and anything else Whumpee throws at them. They deserve far worse anyway.

-

Each breath Whumpee takes hurts, and they are about to start crying out of frustration when the door opens. They don’t dare recognize the sharp tug of disappointment in their heart when the face that appears isn’t Caretaker’s.

“Good morning, love, how’s that wound?”, Whumper asks.

“Fine.” There’s an air of amusement around them that makes Whumpee shiver, even if they don’t know exactly why. “Where’s Caretaker?”

It leaves their lips before it hits their brain, and Whumpee has to bite their tongue to avoid slapping their forehead for it. Stupid. Caretaker shouldn’t mean anything to them anymore.

“Oh, dear. You still care about them, don’t you?”

Whumpee doesn’t even open their mouth, not when the answer they can voice would be a blatant lie and they’d both know it.

“It’s really unfortunate to have feelings for someone who doesn’t reciprocate them, isn’t it?” Whumper says, drinking in the slight frown between Whumpee’s brows, the way they look away to hide how much the words hurt them. 

Before the wave of bitterness can crash over Whumpee, Whumper nods to someone outside the room and two guards step inside. 

Their heart starts to pound, thrumming louder at each step the men take toward them.

“What, what’s going on?”

“We’re going somewhere else today, love. I assumed you needed the help to walk.”

They are shaking their head before Whumper even finishes the sentence. With a smile stretching across their face, they raise their brows, as if inviting Whumpee to do it themself.

They know what’s going to happen even before it does, and by the glee on Whumper’s face they do too, but Whumpee still kicks the thin blanket away and gets up on wobbly legs before taking two steps forward. On the third, the pain becomes unbearable. On the fourth, they can’t help but hold their injury and hunch their shoulders. Whumper watches them with mock concern as Whumpee stumbles out of the room. When they finally fall to their knees two steps later, Whumper simply tuts from their spot against the door.

“I guess you did need the help, huh?” they say, and Whumpee catches only a glance of their smile as they wave for the guards. 

Two pairs of hands grab Whumpee’s arms and pull them up, and they can’t hold back a scream when it makes their entire abdomen explode in pain. 

They are hauled over countless hallways, into a room made of concrete walls and nothing more, barely big enough for all of them.

“Please,” they breathe. “What are you doing? What about your deal with Caretaker?”

“Caretaker left, Whumpee.”

It’s the softness in their voice that makes Whumpee’s head turn to them, all wide eyes and parted lips. 

“The bargain we told you about was for them to either betray their team and keep you safe or go away and leave you behind. They made their choice.”

Whumpee can only stare at Whumper’s sympathetic smile. The words take a while to truly sink in, and when they do, all Whumpee does is take a deep breath. 

They’d been expecting this all along, they tell themself. They knew they couldn’t trust Caretaker, knew they’d never come first. They know it, they do. But then why does it hurt so much?

“And you see, Caretaker’s leaving made me kind of mad,” Whumper says as Whumpee is dumped on the cell’s cold floor, falling on all fours. “Betrayals make me bloodthirsty, I’m sure you’ll understand. And since you’re mine now, how can I resist it?”

Whumpee’s mouth dries at that. Terror shoots through their veins at the same time sadness tightens their heart.

The two men who’d carried them there take a step forward at the words and grab chains from a hook behind the door they hadn’t noticed before. As the chains are hung on metal loops attached to the wall, Whumpee realizes how wrong they’d been. The cell walls aren’t completely barren after all.

And when the guards crouch down in front of them, Whumpee can barely find strength through the panic and the pain radiating from their stomach to fight. 

They do, though. Even when it burns and sends waves of dizziness down their body, Whumpee thrashes in hands that don’t budge, jerks against grips that only tighten. 

But none of it matters when metal cuffs lock around both their wrists, nor when the chain is shortened until their arms are pulled straight above their head, back touching the wall. At least they are still sitting. Not that they could get up if they wanted to.

“Whumper, pl–“

But it isn’t over yet, they realize when another shiny gray circle approaches. Whumpee lets out a choked whine, but it’s all they can do before the collar closes around their throat and locks their neck to the wall as well. An uninvited sob escapes their lips, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it either.

“You look beautiful in chains, love,” Whumper says from the door, grinning with sadistic satisfaction at Whumpee’s weakness.

Humiliation tinges their cheeks red when Whumper’s gaze travels up and down their body. Chained, collared, like a dog, unable to do more than wiggle their arms and weakly kick their legs.

“Why are you doing this?” Whumpee asks, voice airy and desperate, searching for an explanation they know isn’t there.

“Because I wanted to. Because it brings me joy to see you struggle. I wouldn’t keep thrashing like that, though, you’ll wear yourself out very quickly with that unfortunate wound of yours, and we don’t want this to end too soon, do we?”

They leave the cell with a giggle and a wave of goodbye, and when the door doesn’t lock behind them, Whumpee almost chokes on a bitter laugh.

The cell is big enough for them to lie down straight if the chains weren’t keeping them tightly tied to the wall. But as time goes by, it seems to get smaller and smaller, closing in on them with each ragged breath Whumpee takes. The chains clink together as they squirm, but there’s no give. Their wound hurts through it all, burning with each movement, but stopping feels like giving up and if they do, then what? 

No one knows where they are but Caretaker and they’ve already made it clear they won’t help. They’ve already given up on Whumpee, left them once again.

No one cares. There is no saving this time. 

Whumpee chokes on rage and grief as tears stream down their cheeks, for a love that should never have been born, for the heart that has been broken in so many pieces they don’t know how it can still find strength enough to keep beating in their chest.

Whumpee stares at the gray walls and feels a scream building, and there’s no one there to stop it from bursting out, containing all of their anger and sadness and betrayal and spilling it over to the world. But even though it’s left their chest, the cry keeps echoing, bouncing around the walls, and none of the feelings are gone. They are all still there, still boiling inside of Whumpee.

So Whumpee sobs and pulls at the chains until their wrists are raw and bleeding, and don’t stop until both their strength and their voice are gone and there’s nothing else to do but sag on the chains. 

-

Caretaker is in the elevator when the phone Whumper’s given them buzzes. Seven floors to go before they have to face their team. A few seconds before they have to betray the people who are nothing less than their family.

Even so, it’s not that thought that sends a shiver down their spine. 

No one but Whumper has that number. The phone was given to them with specific instructions to be used solely to communicate with them. It’s Whumpee’s wide eyes that shine in their mind when Caretaker unlocks the phone, and it’s the memory of their smile that makes Caretaker’s heart race as they stare at the text and the video attached to it.

Got bored. You better hurry up.

Their hand trembles as they click on the video and Whumpee’s thin figure fills the screen, arms chained above their head, legs loose on the ground in front of them. Their eyes are closed, and for an instant, Caretaker’s heart stops in fear. But then Whumpee’s head starts to loll forward before being violently pulled back, and at the same time relief makes Caretaker suck in a sharp breath, the thing shining around Whumpee’s neck makes their heart sink through the floor. 

The collar surrounds the soft skin Caretaker’s tasted more than once, marring the perfect curve of their throat. When it yanks their head back, it hits the wall behind them and their eyes snap open. Whumpee stares at the ceiling for a moment before their mouth opens in a scream Caretaker feels in their soul, even if they can’t hear it. They feel it with their whole heart, and when Whumpee starts pulling against the chains, Caretaker thinks they’ll puke.

The video ends with them panting silently through the soundless video, the glint of tears wetting their cheeks. 

And then the elevator stops, and Caretaker barely has two seconds to wipe away their own tears before the doors open. 

When their teammates run toward them, none of them sees the way their eyes shine for the dread it is. 

As they smile and let lie after lie slip through their teeth, the only thing resounding in their mind is Whumpee’s silent screams. And as they deceive and betray, no one seems to notice the way their hands tremble or how they can’t convince their lips to smile no matter how happy they should’ve been to be back with the team. Not when the ten seconds keep playing over and over again inside their mind.

(next)

[moonlightsolo]

bête noire

summary: After the mission with Kylo, you fall unconscious after an injury to your head. You wake up in the med ward needing Kylo by your side.

pairing: kylo ren x female reader

warnings: angst, lots of emotions, mention of needles, 

wc: 1.6k

note: hi i’m back to writing. i posted why i was gone here. sorry this is a short chapter, the other ones will make up for it! i love u all sm!! ty for waiting ♡

- chapter list -

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

The first thing that runs through your mind when you wake up is why the room smells so strongly like disinfectant. It’s making your head thump terribly or maybe it’s something else causing this migraine...

The ache behind your eyes worsens when your heavy eyelids lift to open. The light above you is much too bright. You groan and bring your hand up to shield your face but why does your wrist feel so heavy?

You peek at your hand, seeing that a tiny tube is lodged into the top of your hand and is taped securely against your skin. Your eyes follow the clear tube up to the connected bag full of liquid on a metal hook.

You finally realize that this is not your room. It’s a hospital room. Really?

The memories start to rush back; The mission, the fighting, the Resistance...

Panic strikes you and your breathing quickens while your eyes glance around the familiar room when they adjust to the light. Damn it!

You sigh and look up at the bright white ceiling. The soft beep from your heart monitor is making you angry, why is it to annoying?

The door opens, a woman walks in with a tray of syringes. “Oh, you’re awake?!” She says happily then scurries to your side.

“How’s your pain? One to ten.” She asks you to rate the pain you’re in.

“It’s a seven. Just my head. It hurts.” Your voice is hoarse, “Do you have water?”

She nods as she writes down on a little notepad, “Yes, let me administer some pain medication through your IV first.” She grabs a syringe and connects it to the tube.

She slowly pushes it into your body, you can feel the medicine traveling through your veins. It’s a cold feeling that soothes you.

You almost sigh in relief, “Thank you.”

The nurse smiles and nods as she walks over to the sink to get you a cup of water. “Drink this slowly. You may get nauseous at first.” She hands you the styrofoam cup carefully.

Once your hand wraps around it, you bring the rim to your lips to take a big gulp.

The cold liquid travels down into your stomach, the feeling makes you want to hurl.

The nurse takes it from your hands and lays it down on a little table, “You know the man that brought you in, the Supreme Leader... I’ve never seen him while working here. I’ve only heard rumors that he is scary and tall. A very powerful individual.” Her voice trails off and you go to tell her how wrong she is but she continues.

“But, when he came in with you yesterday. All of those rumors felt like lies. I’ve never seen someone so scared to lose someone. Everybody on this ship are emotionless and stone cold. Be lucky that he loves you like that. Don’t get me wrong, he is still very tall and intimidating.” She chuckles as her hands move around to take care of you.

The words make your heart flutter in the best way possible. She smiles even more at your reaction, “Wait, where is he?” You ask and she perks up.

“I should probably go alert him that you’re awake now, hm? If you need anything press the nurse button on the side of the bed.” She says as she walks out of the room.

You take a deep breath, wishing you could just be somewhere else than this hospital room. It’s boring and it’s letting in bad memories of last time you were in a hospital room on a ship like this.

Slowly, your emotions take over your senses again. Your hands are shaking, your bottom lip quivers and your eyes are filling up with tears.

The last time you were in a room like this, it was against your will. You’re grateful he saved your life but what would have happened if he didn’t?

Then you remember Ailla, your previous nurse and her floating assistant droid. Your first and only friends you’ve made on a ship like this. The last time you saw her was when you were taken by the stormtroopers and put into a holding cell.

Kylo was so different back then. He was rude and cold to you. He starved you until you gave into his ultimatum to join the First Order and somehow you even fell in love with him. 

He’s become more open with his emotions, letting you know when he’s happy and that he loves you and you’ve gave birth to his children. It’s insane how the universe works.

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding. You’re glad you took the opportunity or you wouldn’t have your two sweet little babies. You’d probably be dead.

Your eyes fly open, taking a sharp breath as you look around your room. You fell asleep. The lights in the room have been dimmed but you spot a dark figure sitting on a chair in the corner. His head is hanging as he his elbows rest against his knees. It’s Kylo.

It’s almost like he knew you‘re awake, his head snaps up then he stands to walk quickly over to the side of the bed. His hand grasps yours instantly, “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed so peaceful.” He mumbles, you squeeze his hand in response. 

“How long were you waiting?” You ask softly, your voice is timid and still hoarse.

“Only about forty-five minutes.” He nods his head slowly, his dark eyes look over you in the bed. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

You grumble softly to yourself, making his head pick up to give you a confused look. “How are the kids?” You change the subject.

His facial features soften but his eyebrows are still furrowed in thought, “They’re fine. I have the droid watching them for the time being. I’ve had things to do around the ship.” His thumb absentmindedly rubs across the skin on your hand and over the medical tape holding the IV in place.

“I don’t want you to come with me anymore on these missions. It’s not safe and I don’t want anything to happen to you again.” His eyes glance at you before returning down to your joined hands, almost like he didn't want to see your response.

“What? No, Kylo. I’m not doing that, I want to be by your side.” You scoff and shake your head. You attempt to scoot your body up so you could sit up but some wires kept you tied down. His eyes fall over your pained face.

“I want to go back with you. We were so powerful together, didn’t you feel it?” You’re almost begging him by now.

“There’s no doubt that we were powerful beside each other but it’s not safe.” He replies coldly. “I said no.” He’s serious now.

Your eyes squint into slits, your mouth hangs ajar for a moment then closes. “Well, I don’t agree with you.” You blurt out, making him take a sharp deep breath through this nose, making his nostrils flare.

“You need to listen to me, Y/N. You’re not leaving this ship unless it’s approved by me.” His voice raises which makes you angrier.

“You can’t hold me against my will anymore.” You spit back angrily which makes him groan. He pulls his hand away from yours to take a step back from the bed, his hands rub over his face in frustration.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?!” He yells into the air, the veins popping out in his neck as he stares at the ceiling. Your body winces at the sudden raise of his voice.

“I am not stubborn. I just want to be able to use that kind of power! I think it’s unfair that you’re going to withhold me from bettering myself.” You push a button so the bed would sit you up.

“See, that’s why I don’t want you to. It’s not making you become a better you,” 

His voice lowers almost to a whisper, “The power you yield is incredibly dangerous and it will corrupt your mind. All you will think about is that one thing. You’ll forget about your children, you’ll forget about me. You’ll turn into this person that everyone fears. Do you really want that?”

The change of emotion in the room makes your face go completely still as you stare at him, the tears break free from your waterline when you try to blink them away. Your bottom lip subtly quivers as your emotions flood your body.

“I’ll come by later to take you back to our quarters.” He stands up straight, his dark eyes glance over your features then he turns to walk out of the room.

When the door closes behind him, you let out a sob. Your arms wrap around your body to try and console yourself, your knees slide up so you could cradle them against your chest.

Why does life have to be this way? Why can’t you just exclaim your feelings and not be told you’re wrong?

Your eyes catch something laying on a table beside your bed. It’s your pile of clothes you were wearing when you were brought in, your dusty saber is laying on top of the equally dirty clothes.

Maybe you could just leave now and not wait for him. Although that will piss him off even more.

You gulp and shake your head. There’s no reason to do that to him and betray his orders once again.

You slowly feel your emotions wear off, your body becomes cold and distant from your own conscience. It feels almost as if you turned your emotion switch off in your brain, but why would you do that?

You’ll just have to wait for Kylo to come fetch you from the med ward. Hopefully, everything will be back to normal soon.

-

tags: @officiallpeterparker @funnysadshit @ymariejp @attorneyl @fangirl570 @trinityrud20 @kylos-sassy-cousin @delicatelyherdreams @fizzywoohoo @savvy7392 @angelias134 @that-girl-named-alex @cas-backwards-tie @glimmering-darling-dolly @glitterypinkkitty @blxkstar @his-snow-white-queen @elsasshole @smiithys @nanocoool @deathbyarabbit @alex-skr @theholycakehole  @averillian  @crazynocturnalkiki @arcanebabe @tinydancer40 @superduckypower  @thomasscresswell @butterfly-writes @thatintrovertedbisexual @fangirlanotherjust @somekindofroger  @nicci442 @little-girl-who-dream-too-much @wildest-dream- @silverlambcaptain @cliffordmess @xkylorxn @lowkeyofsassguard @nickangel13 @carol-twinklefists-danvers @oopsiedoopsie23 @fandomshit6000 @baba-eina @cosmichellfire @ravngers @lipstickstateofmind @dorisfantasyworld @starrfruit

[eugenesmorphine]

Breathe // Ronald Speirs Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines​

  Breathe. Just breathe. Don't worry about the fact that the German Army just took you as a Prisoner of War. Not that you were a female United States Paratrooper. Not that they had just tied you to a pole in some random shed. Far away from your platoon and from the only man that you would want to spent the rest of your life with. Don't worry at the fact that you were most likely going to die. Oh god. I'm going to die. Not in the hands of old age and with the love of my life besides me. But young and in the hands of German soldiers. I'm only twenty four. I won't be able to make a family. I won't see Ronald again.

   I was pulled out of my thoughts by a slamming door and a couple sets of heavy footsteps. I looked up tiredly, my body aching and shivering. I've only been in this cold and secluded shed for near twenty four hours and they had already stripped me down to my underwear and bra and have already beaten me profusely. Trying to get information out of me in theses hours, in which I refused to give. Which I suffered from these consequences. I suffered horribly. I will never forget what these Germans have done to me. God I just want Ronald to find me. I don't want to be here anymore.

   "Where are your men?" The German officer screamed into my face. The spit from his mouth landing on my face. I kept my silence, feeling the blood from the cut on my cheek, split eyebrow, bloody nose and the mouth full of blood the dripped down my chin. I weakly just kept the same stern, cold look on my face, glancing up to look up at Kraut. And when he yanked my hair back, arching my neck out. I only winced ever so slightly, refusing to show any more signs of any pain or anything. It earned a slug across my face. My body fell to the side, then receiving a hard kick to my ribs. I small cry left my lips as the boot hit the same spot again. Hearing a loud crack and a sharp pain. One rib had most definitely just broke. I could only imagine the pain that was going to happen in time to come if Ronald and the others didn't find me. Now the fear was sinking in.

   I laid on the side for a few more seconds. "I can take it.." I said weakly, looking up at the German. I heard a scoff and he pulled me up and stood me against a wall. He hit me again. I looked back at him once more, blood dripping down my lip and falling onto the concrete floor. A placed a tired smirk onto my face as I spit the blood right onto the officer's ugly face. You could just feel the rage radiating off of him. Boy did I have something coming for me.

Back With Easy Company:

   Captain Speirs had been tearing their camp apart. Just trying to see if his love Y/N was around the camp somewhere. Trying to face away from the cold truth on the fact of her becoming a prisoner of war. Trying to push all the thoughts of losing her to the back of her mind. Pretending that she was just somewhere around camp. And or someone wasn't keeping track of her and lost her somewhere. Even though Y/N was a grown woman. Poor Ronald Spiers just wanted to make any excuse not to think anything but Y/N was now a prisoner of war. And she is now in a really dangerous situation.      But soon, he became angry. Very angry. Shouting at men viciously to help search for you. And when someone told him that you were missing and the fact that you could've been, (and must have been) a prisoner of war. Nixon and Winters had to hold him back. Because you know how this man can barely control his anger induced tendencies, he nearly ripped a poor replacements head off.

    "Speirs, you have to accept the fact that she could've been captured! And you can't attack our men because of what happened. What we can do is send scouts to check to see where she could be or could have gone. She hasn't been gone long, she couldn't have gone far," the redheaded Captain tried explaining to the now disheveled man sitting in front of him.    Speirs sat on a trunk, his head in hands, just taking in the words the other officer he was saying and not having any thoughts to respond. He was broken. He began to really understand the fact of the matter. Y/N was missing. She was a POW. She could die. He could lose the love of his life in any moment and he would never know. He could never feel her touch, her lips, hear her soft voice, or even see her beautiful smile. And for the first time, Dick Winters saw the side that Y/N did to him. Ronald Speirs really loved that woman, and even though he was terrible at showing his emotions, he was in love with this one female paratrooper. He looked up at the redhead in front of him with tears in his eyes. His walls began crashing down.

    "Dick, I can't lose her. I need that girl. Y/N is my everything, and god Richard, I'm so in love with her," as he preached to the Captain standing in front of him, his voice cracked. Though, the tears trying to be forced back, began to fall. And once the tears began to fall, they didn't stop. Ronald's face went back into his hands as he tried to stifle his slight sobs. Dick placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

    "I'm sending a couple squads out on patrol. They are going to search and follow anything that could lead to Sergeant L/N. We even have a dog that can and will sniff her out. Just please, we need you at your best in case of anything. And we don't need you being dishonorably discharged because you kill a replacement, " Dick spoke softly, adding a small chuckle at the end. Ronald returned the chuckle as he wiped his eyes. Looking up and nodded. Only hoping that his love would be found.

    A couple days had passed. For the first few days nothing about Y/N showed up or came up anywhere. Ronald began to seem quiet and quite scary. Although, then came the day, when the jeep came back and Webster had been carrying a smile and bloodied female in his arms. Just his paratrooper jacket that was wrapped around tightly to the female's nearly completely bare body. That was the day Captain Ronald Speirs ran faster than he ever did in his life. Even faster than he did back when he ran through Foy. Y/N seemed to have made it. He couldn't leave you now.

   He trailed on Websters and now Doc Roe's heals as they carried the now frail and battered female to a table. Laying her body down, that is when he saw her up close and a good look. Tears immediately filled his eyes. Dark patches of bruises littered all over her body. Her face bloodied from her split lips and other cut places. She was conscious, slightly. She looked over at him weakly as Doc put an IV in her arm and smiled softly. He smiled back as her gripped her hand, she squeezed his as Doc dressed her wounds and wrapped her ribs. She winced and tears fell down her face. Ronald sat there the entire time and spoke to her softly, whipping her tears and whispering sweet nothings to her. He had never thought that he would have to see her this way. It was an awfuls sight. Even the other guys had sorrowful faces. Though, Y/N was going to make it, the thought of a woman going through the things she had to go through was horrible in it's thought.

   Once the two of them were alone, the sat in silence for a while. Though, Y/N sat up slowly, wincing. And Ronald was quick to run to her side. She smiled at him and tried to shoo him away. But, Ronald , like the stubborn officer he was, refused and sill was at her side. "I lost you once, and almost lost you forever just because I let you out of my sights. I'm not ever leaving your side. Ever again," he said as he placed his forehead on hers. The two of them stared at each others eyes. He kissed her ever so softly. And held her like she was made of the finest glass ever. He meant everything that he said. And from the day, Captain Ronald Speirs was next to you and connected at your hip every single day. Not a day after then did he not stay by your side. He stuck to his word. Y/N couldn't be happier.

[ask-hetaaca-denmark]

This writing takes place directly after the events of this post.

@ask-hetaaca-bergen (for the mention of Agda!)

—

At Mathias’ sudden outburst—one that quite literally came out of nowhere—Majken is reasonably startled, but it doesn’t take more than half a second for her to realise Mathias, who’s been unresponsive for over a week now, is sitting up in bed and very much awake. Tears immediately start filling her eyes, and the book she was reading is discarded, thrown to the floor in favour of rushing to her son’s side.

Mathias’ eyes haven’t yet adjusted to the bright hospital lighting, so he’s having trouble making out anything. However, he can make out the silhouette of someone coming towards him, and he panics, jerking back against his hospital bed.

...

“..?” Mathias is confused when he’s met with a warm mattress as opposed to cold concrete. Last he knew, he was splattered across the street downtown, and now he’s somewhere else, he thinks. He tries to turn his head to look, but there’s something keeping him from doing so, and it only adds to his panicking. 

Taking advantage of this opening, Majken takes hold of Mathias’ hand, careful of the IV but still squeezing it pretty firmly. He looks towards her, and even if his eyes aren’t looking at her directly, they’re looking in her direction, and she’s filled with joy over such a small action. “Baby.. you’re awake..”

She has to take a deep breath to calm herself, but she still chokes up. “It’s okay. It’s mama, you don’t have to run from me.”

He doesn’t understand the words spoken to him, but the voice is familiar to Mathias, though he can’t quite place it yet. It’s comforting. 

He tries to blink away the haziness in his eyes, to see who this voice belongs to, but it takes a minute before he can make out anything else. This time it’s colours—better than nothing, he supposed. Now the familiar stranger is.. somewhat more definable. The biggest clue is green. Green eyes, and light hair. He tries to say something, but he struggles, eventually rasping out, ”Agda..?”

Majken is.. surprised? She and Agda look nothing alike, except maybe the same colour of eyes. “..No, mama. Your mama.”

Momentary relief is replaced once more with fear, and Mathias whimpers, his eyes flickering in different directions as if scanning the room for someone. Majken hesitates; Could he not see her after all? Did he hit his head hard enough that he couldn’t remember her? If he remembers Agda’s name, it’s unlikely that’s all he remembers, but Majken’s thoughts are quickly spiraling out of control. She takes a deep breath, and uses the sleeve on her free arm to wipe her face; now isn’t the time for this. “Agda will be here soon, baby. It’s okay.”

There’s no response to that statement. Majken leans over the guard railing to kiss Mathias’ forehead, before relinquishing her grip on him to go and retrieve her phone. She dials Vilhelm’s number, and when he picks up, she has to fight to not fall apart. Another deep breath, and she starts talking.

—

”Kære, he’s awake.”

That’s the first thing Vilhelm hears from his wife, and his heart both leaps into his throat, and drops into his stomach. He goes to ask for clarification, when she continues speaking.

”I don’t think he knows where he is.. but he’s asking for Agda. If you can, could you bring her with you?”

“..I’m on it.”

Majken hangs up, and Vilhelm gathers up his things, including Hannibal, before setting off on an adventure to find where Agda could be.

—

Mathias had zoned out again, until he heard Agda’s name. He repeats it in that questioning tone, and Majken looks at him, coming closer once again to put her hand on his leg. 

Once she ends her conversation on the phone, she keeps breathing deep, trying to calm herself down. Everything is starting to come down on top of her, and while she’s telling herself she’s alright, her shaking hands say otherwise.

The dam that was holding back all of her emotions over the last nine agonisingly long days finally breaks, and Majken does as well.

—

The heart-shattering wails can be heard from the nurses’ station, sending several nurses down the hallway to come and see what’s happened.

Upon opening the door, they’re greeted with Mrs Henriksen barely clinging to Mathias’ bed, the rest of her on the floor, just screaming in tears. Two of the nurses come to check on her, while the other addresses Mathias. Normally this kind of reaction is reserved for when a patient dies, so naturally they want to make sure nothing’s gone wrong.

The immediate concern is that the cardiac monitor is beeping like crazy, likely caused by the fear and stress of the situation going on around him. Mathias is also tearing up, which is surprising, but not unwelcome; The brain being able to trigger that kind of emotional response right out of the gate is a very good sign, and may indicate a higher chance of a full recovery.

It’s decided that, for both Majken’s well-being and Mathias’, that she’s going to be temporarily removed from the room. She fights the nurses on this, but is easily subdued and brought elsewhere to avoid disturbing more patients.

—

The remaining nurse stays behind, talking quietly to Mat to try and reassure him that he’s alright, while grabbing the equipment needed to check his vitals. This is fine and dandy, until she sticks the thermometer in his ear and he flips out. She quickly removes it, and he looks at her in fear, trying to move away from her. 

She puts the device in front of him, turning it over in her hand, “It’s just to get your temperature. It’s not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Mathias stares at the vague shape in front of him, and reaches his “hands” up to touch it; Nothing sharp, or dangerous, as far as he can tell. He stops and leans back again, and the nurse disposes of the tip before attaching a new one. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

This time, while he still seems unhappy about it, he doesn’t fight as much. The nurse goes through with the rest of the tests, getting about the same reactions, and aside from his pulse (which is already starting to calm down again), everything seems within a good range. She asks if he needs anything else, and he moves his hand up to the oxygen mask over his face. “Can I take it off..?”

“Right now, your oxygen levels are still pretty low for what we want. But I can switch it out for a nasal cannula, if that would make it easier for you.”

Mathias doesn’t respond, but it seems more like he’s thinking about it, rather than not understanding.

“The cannula goes into your nose, and doesn’t cover your mouth. If you decide you want the mask again, we can always change it back.”

A few seconds pass, and then Mat nods, and pulls his mask away from his face before the nurse stops him. She tells him to keep it on until she comes back, and then leaves to go and grab the necessary equipment to get him switched over.

—

It takes no more than 10 minutes for Vilhelm to locate Agda, but by that point he’s borderline hysterical. He explains that Mathias is awake, and she has to come with him. Agda puts aside what she was doing to follow, while also trying to reassure him that everything’s going to be fine. He has no interest in listening. 

As they’re coming down the corridor, Vilhelm is horrified to see the lights are off in Mathias’ room. This whole time, the lights have been on, even when no one was in there. Too many thoughts flood his head, and he breaks into a sprint, nearly taking the door out in the process, but he has to see what’s going on.

Majken isn’t in the room. No one is, except Mathias, who looks just the way he did when he left. Majken said he was awake, did he fall back into a coma that quickly?

His thoughts are interrupted by a hand on his back. Agda says something—presumably something to comfort him—but Vilhelm moves into the room, setting Hannibal down in a chair and coming to Mat’s bedside. Against his better judgement, he reaches out to touch his son’s face, and is greeted with the most volatile reaction, getting teeth sunken into his hand out of self-defense.

The tender moment is immediately brought to an end when Vilhelm yelps, trying to pull his hand away and finding he can’t. He has to get his other hand involved to pry Mathias’ mouth open, yelling something in Danish at the poor boy, and eventually freeing his fingers. He shakes them to relieve the pain, and remove the spit, while Agda doesn’t even try to stifle her laughter behind him.

He whips around, more insulted than genuinely angry, “That’s not funny, Agda!”

“Of course. Sorry, dad.”

He takes a second to rid the pain from his digits, continuing to shake it out, before realising that what Majken said was true; Mathias is awake. Unfocused eyes stare back at him, full of fear, but they’re staring nonetheless. He’s shocked, and says, softly, “Mathias..?”

Mathias seems just as surprised hearing the voice—once again, it’s familiar, but he can’t tell why. He mumbles something under his breath that neither party can catch, before Vilhelm looks back to Agda and motions for her. “Majken said he was asking for you.. now’s your chance.”

Agda lets out a soft sigh, stepping further into the room and retorting, “I can't believe I’m about to lose another finger to a rabid Dane.”

Vilhelm practically squawks in laughter at this.

—

In the darkness of the room, Agda’s left even more blind than usual. The only real source of light is coming from the early morning sun, but even then, it’s obscured by thick curtains that allow only a faint glow to permeate them. 

She can see the rough outline of Mathias, and as she steps around his bed and tries not to break her neck, she says his name. His eyes widen, and what used to be a hand fumbles to get out of the blankets and reach for her. She beats him to the punch, though, resting her hand on top of his head and lightly scratching. 

Whatever composure Mathias may have had crumbles away in an instant. He starts crying—actually, crying is an understatement. He starts bawling, reaching his arms out to hug around her waist, and Agda’s able to pick out her name from between his choking and hiccuping. “I’m here, Mat..” She says, slowing her scratching down to instead cradle his head against her stomach. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Mathias nods, he understood that, but he doesn’t let go of her. As much as she’s enjoying this, she’s afraid of his physical condition getting worse if he stays bent over like this, so she gently pries him off and leans him back in bed. He protests this, but she gives him her hand again, and it seems to be enough to satisfy him. This would do, for now.

Vilhelm coos at the sight, pulling out his phone to take a picture before realising his camera can’t pick it up. Furthermore, as much as he’d love to fawn over two of his kiddos, his attention is getting pulled away the longer Majken is gone. He shoots her a text, and she replies almost instantly, relieving some of his tension.

He turns back to Agda, and asks if she can keep an eye on Mathias and Hannibal while he goes to find his wife. She nods, and jokingly pops off with, “I’ve been babysitting them since first year, I’ve got this.”

Vilhelm laughs once again, before excusing himself from the room.

—

Majken was brought to a bench near the nurses station, and Vilhelm found her right where she said she was, curled up with her phone and a blanket over her shoulders. He calls out her name, and she pops her head up, setting her phone down so she can greet him with a hug. He squeezes her back, tightly, and asks if she’s alright. “I just got overwhelmed,” she says, “I was freaking Mathias out, so they banished me to the Naughty Bench.”

Vilhelm chuckles, but he does ask what happened. She explains herself, her feelings, how everything hit her way too hard and all at once, and she gets a bit choked up recalling it all. “I’m still trying to calm down, I’m sorry.”

He tells her not to apologize, bringing a hand up to gently cup her cheek and wipe her tears with his thumb. She giggles, and gets on her tiptoes to kiss him, asking if he’s alright. He was going to answer that he’s fine, but instead he says, “Actually, I went to check on Mathias, and he bit me!”

“H- he what?!”

Vilhelm pulls away to show his hand, with the bleeding teeth marks, “He BIT me!” and Majken loses it, she was already about to start crying, but this tips the scale when she starts laughing, ”He bit you! Oh my GODS!”

She quickly escalates to where she’s not breathing with how hard she’s laughing, except for the occasional snort or screech, and Vilhelm can’t help but laugh either. Her laugh was always contagious. 

He holds her steady so she doesn’t lose her balance, and she asks if he snarled when he bit him. That image makes him laugh even harder, and the both of them nearly end up on the floor by the time it’s over with. 

Majken has to catch her breath before she passes out, but she’s in tears, that’s such an entertaining visual to her. “Okay, seriously, how did- did you stick your fingers in his mask?!”

“NO! He had the nose thing! I was just checking that he was still awake!”

“Did he not see you??”

“It was dark in the room!”

“OH MY FUCKING GODS- YOU SO DESERVED THAT!”

—

Back in the room, Agda’s making small talk with Mat. He’s having a hard time speaking, and coherently at that, but it’s something. For someone who was so far gone, he’s making ridiculously fast progress.

“Do you know where we are right now?”

“..Hospital?”

“Correct. Do you remember why we’re in hospital?”

“...”

He goes quiet, searching his brain for any memories that could help him. He remembers being on the ground.. or was he in the air? Maybe both? But why was he there?

Agda gives him time, and after a minute or two, he asks, “I got hurt..?”

“You did. Do you remember how you got hurt?”

“..no, not right now.”

Agda brushes her thumb over his knuckles. She doesn’t want to bring this up right now, but at the same time, she hopes it’ll jog something in his memory. She needs him to remember what happened, because only they will ever know what happened. “There was an explosion, Mat. Do you remember the explosion?”

More silence from Mathias, and now Agda’s getting antsy. Is it because he’s not remembering? Or is it her own body reacting poorly to the memories of what happened that afternoon? That’s something she’d have to figure out later.

“You stood in front of me. There was a villain, and he was coming for me, and-“

Agda has to stop. She takes in a few deep breaths, firmly squeezing Mat’s hand. 

“You protected me. Do you remember protecting me?”

Mathias’ eyes light up at the mention, but slowly the light is replaced with horror, and Agda can only figure this out by his cardiac monitor going off. There’s a pang of guilt in her chest, but she knows that this is probably the safest way of bringing it up to him. He may be scared, but she’s right here to comfort him and answer his questions. He can reach out and touch her so he knows she’s safe. 

However, even as Agda tries to convince herself that this is right, it doesn’t make it any easier to handle. He grips her hand tighter, and she hates the way his fingers tremble and shake, or the way he whimpers, ”Aggie..” like a child would whimper for their parents late at night. It hurts her soul hearing it from a voice that always sounded so happy.

She resumes petting Mathias’ head, and repeats some of her earlier statements to hopefully reassure him.

It doesn’t help.

She tries a different approach: “It’s okay.. we’re safe now, Mat. We’re in hospital. No one can hurt us here.” All while lacing her fingers into his hair. It does little to quell the nauseating twisting of Mathias’ stomach; He’s not worried about getting hurt, he’s worried about the damage already done. He can’t see Agda, he can only hear and feel her. 

—

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Majken and Vilhelm return shortly after, turning the lights on when they enter the room. They’re laughing, but they stop when they see Agda looking to them for help. 

Majken disconnects her arm from Vilhelm, quickly coming over to stand next to Agda. Mathias’ frantic, wandering gaze is broken by this new person, but he quickly identifies it as his mom. It stops his train of thought, utterly confusing him—why is his mom here? She doesn’t live on Perpetuum.

Regardless, seeing her brings a new sense of relief. The fear and pain in his body gets drowned out, lowering his heart-rate almost immediately. Agda steps aside so Majken can get in closer, and she takes his hand in her place. Her heart feels lighter when he squeezes it, and she bends down to rest her forehead against his, eliciting a soft, ”Mor?” from him.

Majken laughs, even as tears start bubbling up and dripping onto his face, and nods. She chokes out just as quiet of a reply, ”Mamma er her, skat.”

Mathias nudges her face, and she gets herself twisted at an angle that she can return the gesture, cupping his face with her free hand and letting herself openly fall apart. 

”..Hvor..for græder du..?”

”Jeg er bare glad,” She sniffles, laughing with a fraction of the usual mirth she exudes, ”så glad..”

—

Vilhelm’s off to the side with Agda, the two of them sitting and exchanging glances while Hannibal’s been moved to sleep in dad’s lap.

A few more minutes of sappy, emotional bonding pass before Majken stands back up to give her back a break. Agda stands to offer her chair, and Majken thanks her, but waves it off, “I’m fine, sweetheart, just old.”

Agda snorts at that, but nods idly as she sits back down, prompting Majken to playfully snap, “Hey! That doesn’t mean you get to agree!” 

The both of them and Vilhelm laugh, before the room falls back into silence. It’s more comfortable this time, though. With Mathias being awake, the tension has practically dissolved from the family. Hannibal being the exception, but they can handle that when he wakes up from his stress-induced 20 hour nap.

A thought pops into Agda’s head, though. From a medical standpoint, Mat should rest before anyone else comes to visit, and visitors should be kept to a minimum overall to prevent Mathias’ weakened immune system from failing on him. From a mom-friend standpoint, though...

“Mm.. I’m sure you guys want to let Mat rest, but at some point, there’s someone else who wants to come and see him.. Herakles has been sitting in the waiting room since he was admitted. I know it would give him some peace of mind to see that Mat’s awake.”

Mathias’ head pops up again. Hera’s here too? He was only out for a little bit—Hell, it’s still light outside! He was probably out for an hour at most, why is everyone here?

The confusion aside, he grabs his mom’s hand tighter, and asks, “Hera..?”

Majken looks between Mathias and Agda, and then at Vilhelm, who merely shrugs, just as stumped as she is. Mathias’ well-being is her first concern.  “..I think it would be best to w-“

Majken is interrupted when Mathias says ”Hera” again, but much softer, much more worried than before. She pets his head, and continues, “I think it would be best to wait until Mathias is more stable.. He’s had a lot of stimulation already, and probably wants to sleep before getting bombarded with more people.”

Vilhelm nods, as does Agda, but Mathias doesn’t seem to like this plan. He tries to sit up, and fails. Majken looks back down at him, cocking an eyebrow and asking, “Whatcha tryin’ to do, honey?”

“Hera.. He..ra.. hh..”

“Hold on, Mads, you need to rest first before you try and get up.”

“..where..? Is he..?”

Mathias tries to sit up again, face twisted in a determined, yet pained expression. Majken lightly pushes him back down, holding him in place with her hand. This “resistance” upsets him, causing him to fuss and try to bat her hand away. She snickers, but kisses his forehead again. “It seems he has a problem with our choice.. Vilhelm, could you go and grab this ‘Herakles’?”

“..Are we sure about this? You just said-”

“Look at him, Villy. He’s squirming. He’s not going to lay down until he gets what he wants, we learned this when he was like, two.”

“Right.. okay, what does ‘Herakles’ look like?”

Agda chimes in, “You’ll know when you see him. He’s hard to miss.”

“...Alright, then.”

[astralkoo]

Beautifully Misfit 3

SERIES: Hybrid BTS

‣ Genre: fluff, smutt, hybrid au

‣ Word Count: 7.18k

‣ Pairing(s): skunk!Jimin x reader, puppy!Taehyung x reader, bunny!Jungkook x reader

‣ Warning(s): strong language, little kids being douchebags, angst, wetting bc Tae’s an excitable lil baby ;(, Jungkookie’s speech is still developing, Jimin being a nearsighted angel

‣ to be aware of: sub!jimin, switch!taehyung, switch!jungkook, dom!reader, some kinky ass future happenings, BDSM themes, some heavy angst, and triggering themes.

Summary: you never really saw yourself as a hybrid person. that is, until your best friend introduces you to his hybrid, and you suddenly find yourself craving the companionship. you only intended to bring home one. somewhere between the lines you ended up with three beautifully misfit hybrids who craved nothing but your love.

part. i, ii, iii, iv (coming soon)

A/N; sooo someone mentioned a tag list on my last post and I’ll be starting one! let me know if you’d like to be added! thanks for reading!! and yes. taehyung has his mullet. deal with it.

You were nervous.

But the good kind of nervous.

Standing outside of Taehyung’s door with Hoseok, you felt your heart thudding in your chest.

“Tae…” Hoseok’s knuckles connected gently with the large white door, “I have someone here that would like to meet you.”

There was a quiet shuffling, and then the door was being pulled open. You swear to fuck your heart did a triple backflip at the sight of him. How had you not noticed how beautiful he was before?

He had this beautiful honey skin, free of any blemishes or flaws aside from a faint scar near the round curve of his chin and two adorable freckles, one on the tip of his nose and the other hidden beneath his dark bottom lashes. His cheeks were full and tinted by a faint pink color, matching that of his pouty lips. His eyes were these dark pools of melted chocolate, sparking faintly as he peered through his thick eyelashes. His dark slightly wavy hair was just long enough to form a slight mullet.

Now, on any other person literally in the entire universe you would probably have been repulsed. But on the boy standing in front of you—… oOooOh. It was honestly kind of unfair. The adorable set of dark ears peeking out of his locks and the fluffy tail flicking behind him only added to his precious appearance.

“Hobi!” The hybrid cheered excitedly, launching himself at your guide and wrapping him up in what looked to be a smothering hug. You’d never seen someone so excited to see someone they’d been talking to not ten minutes earlier.

Hoseok only laughed, patting the canine’s back.

“What’re ya doin’ here? I thought I was on punishment? Am I not in trouble any more? That’d be real great because I don’t quite like bein’ in trouble— who’s this?” The hyperactive hybrid’s attention was suddenly directed towards you.

“This is y/n, she asked to meet you.”

You offered a soft smile and a rather coy wave.

Taehyung’s eyes widened in what appeared to be utter disbelief, blinking slowly. “M–me? You wanted to meet me?”

“Of course I did, I saw you and you were just too adorable to resist,” you teased, giving him a lopsided smile.

Flirting was kind of a defense mechanism for you. That and cursing. And drinking. And pretending that you live in a on a secluded island in the middle of nowhere where no one can talk to you, annoy you, or distract you from doing absolutely nothing. But that last one’s just a distant fantasy.

His face blossomed a deep crimson, his ears flopping and his tail tucking between his thighs. He quickly slapped his hands over his rosy cheeks, whimpering, “oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” over and again to himself as he desperately fanned his face.

“D–did I say something wrong?” You murmured to Hoseok worriedly.

He only chuckled and shook his head. “No, don’t worry, Tae just isn’t used to being complimented by such pretty girls, isn’t that right, Tae?” The canine let out a sound of agreement, nodding quickly.

“You’re very pretty,” he blurted loudly, staring at you with massive shining eyes.

You laughed softly, feeling your own face between to jump up a few degrees at his bluntness. “Well, thank you, Taehyung.”

“You can call me Tae if you want! All my friends call me Tae,” his booming voice quickly quieted towards the end of his statement as a shy smile touched upon his lips. How much fucking cuter can he get, Jesus H. Christ have mercy, you silently fawned, biting at the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from lunging at him and wrapping him up in the kind of hug that would protect him from all the evil in the world and never letting go.

“Alright, Tae. My name’s y/n,” you grinned, holding yourself from spitting out the cheesy pick up line that dangled on the tip of your tongue.

“Tae do you mind if we come in?” Hoseok chimed up, gesturing towards his room.

Taehyung quickly shook his head and to your surprise grabbed your hand and eagerly began tugging you into his room.

It was small, but the cozy kind of small. There wasn’t much else beside a bed, bedside table, and a few toys scattered around. What caught your eye most were the many colorful stuffed animals piled up on his bed. It was child like and innocent, and you felt the maternal instinct in you begin to stir impatiently.

“I–it’s a little messy, I’m sorry,” he apologized, ears lowering.

“It’s fine, really! My room is ten times worse than this,” You admitted with a soft chuckle.

That much was true. Just because you had your own house didn’t mean that you were anywhere near responsible enough to keep it clean. In fact, the only time it’s actually tidy is when your aunt comes over and reprimands you for living in a pigsty and— being the clean freak that she is— cleans up the place. While yelling at you, of course.

Taehyung giggles, tail flicking behind him. “Really?”

“Really. I’ve got clothes all over the place, not to mention all of the toys,” you spoke in an exaggerated voice. That last bit about the toys might’ve been a tiny white lie. They were all still boxed up, neatly packed together in the closet of what had previously been your storage room, but would now act as a bedroom for your new hybrid.

His entire body seemed to straighten out, ears raising to their full height while his tails wagging rapidly sped up.

“Toys?” He repeated, eyes getting all wide and shiny. There was a bit of a whine to his voice, his lips beginning to tremble in excitement. You hummed, nodding slowly as a grin touched your features. “Lots of ’em?”

“Too many to count,” you chimed.

This time, the whine that reverberated in his throat was loud and desperate. His tail thumped against the outside of his thighs with each heavy swing.

“What kinds?” He pressed, practically squirming in place.

“All kinds! Sticks, stuffed animals, balls, squeaky toys—”

“Squeaky toys!” He shrieked, quite literally leaping a foot into the air. At this point, his tail was whirling around faster than helicopter blades, and his body was physically vibrating with the raw excitement coursing through his veins.

“Tae, calm down before you—” Hoseok began to warn, stepping forward quickly, eyes wide and worried. But his warning was too little too late. All at once, Taehyung froze, a pathetic whimper leaving his suddenly pouting lips as his cheeks were doused in bright shades of pink and his eyes brimmed with glistening tears.

It took a lowered glance at the slowly darkening crotch of his pants to realize what you had just witness occur.

You blinked, surprised. “Oh shit.”

Within seconds, Taehyung had broken into sobs, collapsing into a crouching position, hands tucked between his thighs in an attempt to hide his little accident from your shocked gaze.

“Tae,” Hoseok sighed, lowering himself at the wailing hybrid’s side, soothing stroking his back, “it’s okay, it was just an accident.”

But his consoling words fell on deaf ears as the puppy howled hopelessly, “s–she ha–hates me n–now! She–she’s dis–disgusted by m–m–me!” Upon hearing his words, you hurriedly shook yourself out of your state of shock and rushed to his side. Dropping to your knees, you began to quickly shake your head.

“No! No, I don’t hate you at all, Tae. I promise, I’m not upset with you in the least!”

“B–but I’m disgusting!” He insisted, words unsteady and strained between gasping cries.

“You’re not disgusting at all, please don’t think that. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have gotten you so riled up,” you cooed, hands instinctively going to cup his warm cheeks, thumbing away salty tears from his drenched skin. He whimpered, nuzzling his face into your palms and inhaling deeply. Noticing he wasn’t going to reply, you continued, “one little accident isn’t going to change the way I look at you okay? You don’t have to feel embarrassed or ashamed, I’ll never judge you.”

He was silent for a moment, his big teary eyes shimmering with hope as he stared up at you.

“P–promise?”

Oh shit, there goes your heart again doing those fuckin’ gymnastics tricks.

His voice was so meek and uncertain, yet singed with sanguine.

You could see it now.

How broken he was. The truth shone in his eyes like a god damn lighthouse.

The distrust in his mind, yet the longing to believe your words in his heart. He knew he’d be making himself vulnerable once again if he trusted you. And once he opened up his heart to you, there was no going back. You could chew him up and spit him into the gutter and he’d still come crawling back to you.

He needed you to prove to him that you weren’t going to break his heart like all the others. That you wouldn’t throw him to the curb and abandon him like those in his past. It made you angry to think that someone could be so heartless as to desert this tender hearted boy when he had put his faith into them. How could anyone have toyed with his innocent heart?

You were suddenly filled with determination. The determination to mend his broken heart. To prove to him that you weren’t like his past owners. You would never abandon him. Never bring harm to him.

In a bold gesture, you leaned forward and pressing a feathery kiss to his forehead. He whined softly, eyes fluttering at the unexpected but very welcome show of affection.

“I promise.”

“D–does this mean…” he swallowed anxiously, “you’re… adopting me?”

You paused for dramatic effect.

“Bold of you to assume there’s even the slightest chance that I wouldn’t.”

You could he was about to launch himself at you from the massive boxy grin that ripped itself across his features and how his legs shifted beneath him, but Hoseok was quick to subdue the excitable pup with a gentle shoulder hold. “Woah, lets not get over excited again, Tae. Why don’t you go get washed up and changed, alright?” Taehyung blushed, having realizing his near mistake.

“Okay! I’ll be right back! Don’t go anywhere!” He cried out over his shoulder and he scrambled into what you assumed to be a connected bathroom, not able to calm the smile that had his round cheeks aching. You also couldn’t rid your lips of a smile as you watched him go. It was only then that you felt the thundering of your euphoric heart, and the rush of adrenaline in your veins ease up.

“Holy shit,” you whipped around to face Hoseok, “I’m adopting a hybrid.”

Hoseok snickered at your astonished expression, nodding in confirmation. “Indeed you are. You like him?”

“Like him? Are you crazy? I love him, he’s so fucking cute it’s not even funny. Not to mention a total sweetheart. He’s perfect.” You retorted, hands swinging around for emphasis.

“I’m glad you think so,” he laughed, standing up, “come on, I’ve got some paperwork you’ll need to fill out.”

“But he said to wait,” you blinked up at him as he offered you a hand, which you took and rose to your feet. You didn’t want to leave Taehyung already. But Hoseok shook his head with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry. He’ll catch up as soon as he’s done. I don’t doubt he’s already committed your scent to memory.”

You laughed in surprise, “wonderful.”

He guided you out of Taehyung’s room, and you followed despite your initial hesitation. The sooner you finished the paperwork, the sooner you’d be able to bring him home with you. And good god did you want to take him home with you as soon as humanly possible.

“There are probably a few things you should know about Taehyung,” he cleared his throat, glancing over at you as you made your way down the hallway. You gave him your full attention, nodding for him to continue. “First of all, accidents like that aren’t too uncommon for him. He has a tendency to have accidents when he gets too excited or scared, just as a forewarning. That doesn’t… affect your decision… does it?”

“Of course not! Everyone has their little quirks,” you reassured with a dismissive wave. He let out a breath of relief before continuing.

“Secondly, I might’ve mentioned earlier that he’s been in and out of homes since he was little. Nine to be exact.” Your eyes widened. He’s been in nine homes? And not a one of them stuck? “None of them could handle him properly. And several were abusive.”

“No.” You breathed in horror, feeling a knot for in the pit of your stomach. But Hoseok only nodded solemnly. “I would have never guessed with how upbeat he is.”

“I was surprised, too. But the truth is in his scars. I think he has tried to block that part of his life out instead of facing it. But sometimes, it can all come back to him in an instant. He’s had several panic attacks while in our care, and a few while in homes. He once bit the man who adopted him during one of his fits, bad enough that he had to get stitches.” He explained carefully.

“Does he have specific triggers?”

“I know of a few. Cigarettes, fire, chains, certain words and names can get him sometimes as well. There should be more information in his file.”

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t that you were second guessing this adoption, not in the least. But you were scared. How could you not be? What if you accidentally triggered a panic attack? What if he hurt himself? What if he hurt you? What if—

“What can I do?” You asked, “if he has a panic attack, what can I do?”

“Help him to breathe properly, that’s most important. He would most likely start hyperventilating and you’ll have to guide him. Reassure him that you’re there. His stuffed animals calm him down pretty quick, too. Just don’t smother him, don’t try to hug him or grab him in any way because he will lash out. Doing that would just make him feel cornered.” You nodded, taking in the information as thoroughly as you could, muttering to yourself to make notes of everything he just said.

“Hopefully, if you’re careful and understanding and good to him, you won’t have to worry about one occurring. He’ll be okay. It’s scary, but I can tell you’ll be able to handle it.”

You cocked a brow. “How can you tell?”

He smiled lightly to himself, simply shrugging with a knowing glint in his eyes. You narrowed your own eyes at him, but just as you were about to question him further, something like a brick wall slammed into you.

“What the fuck—!” you cursed loudly as the air was knocked from your lungs, sending you stumbling backwards. But whatever had rammed into your chest swiftly maneuvered itself behind you, preventing you from falling flat on your ass.

“Jeon Jungkook! Get back here this instant you mutant bunny!” A furious Latina came storming into the hall, soaked from head to toe, with what looked to be soap suds in her dark wavy hair. Her tan face was flushed with an angry crimson, lips pulled into a snarl that had even you cowering under her glare. You felt a harsh tug at the back of your shirt then sent you stumbling into something large, firm, and warm.

There was the unmistakable sound of growling and snorting by your ear. Okay. What the fuck is happening.

“Ms. Navarro, what happened?” Hoseok gasped at her disheveled state.

“That rabbit happened!” She sneered, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Raising your brows, you pointed a finger first at your own chest (receiving a deadpan look from the woman) before throwing a thumb over your shoulder at whatever was making low grunting noises in your ear.

“What’d he do this time?” Hoseok sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

“I was trying to get him to take his stupid bath because he’s beginning to stink up the place and he threw me into the tub, fully dressed!” She hissed, before beginning to spew out livid profanities in a Spanish.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok groaned, shooting a disapproving look in the rabbit’s direction, “why would you do that to Ms. Navarro? She was only trying to help you.”

“Bath bad. Don’t want it.” He hissed, the grip he had on the back of you shirt tightening, effectively drawing you even closer to him.

Shit, was it bad that this is the most intimate you’ve been with a guy in a hot minute? You almost snorted out loud at the thought, but stifled it in fear of being reprimanded by the short, yet admittedly terrifying woman standing before you.

“No, bath good for stinky bunnies like you,” She retorted sharply, hands curling into tight fists as the rabbit hybrid stuck his tongue out tauntingly before ducking down behind you. “Why you little—” Hoseok was quick to jump in as she began to storm over to where you stood, effectively scaring the piss out of you.

“Ms. Navarro, why don’t you let me deal with Jungkook, okay? You know how he can get. You can go dry off and get into some new clothes, is that alright?” His voice was like the calm in a hurricane, and the fury seemed to melt from her features within seconds.

She gave a short nod of agreement, shooting one last look of disdain in Jungkook’s direction before turning and stomping off, muttering something about giving him a right whooping with her chancla. When she vanished from sight, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, body deflating.

Placing your palm flat against your chest and feeling the thunderous beating of your heart, you turned to Hoseok with wide eyes. “Well wasn’t she just a ball of sunshine and rainbows.”

He let out a laugh. “That was Ms. Navarro. She’s like the mother figure around here, always keeping everyone in their place. She can be very sweet, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, I don’t,” you grinned playfully. You heard a soft chuckle from behind you, and it was only then that you recalled that there was a bunny hybrid latched onto the back of your shirt. Swiveling your head around, you cocked a curious brow in his direction.

You don’t know exactly what you were expecting him to look like, but it sure as hell wasn’t a large, muscular boy with a face that bore an incredible resemblance to his animalistic half and two proud, brown ears sprouting from his messy dark locks of hair.

“God damn,” you muttered to yourself. His ears twitched in recognition of your words, head tilting adorably in confusion. “Jungkook the mutant bunny, I presume?”

He nodded, staring into your soul with big black sparkling eyes.

“Not much of a talker, huh?”

He nodded, blinking slowly.

“Ah, Jungkookie don’t be rude. Introduce yourself,” Hoseok spoke up, giving the hybrid a look stare.

The bunny stood up straight all of a sudden, hand shooting out in front of him as a look of determination graced his features. “Name Jeon Kookie, twenty year old, rex bunny. Nice meet.”

You stared at him blankly, pondering if it would be possible to fit him in your pocket and bring him home with you right then and there.

Jesus fuck he was adorable.

When you realized he was still waiting for you to shaking his hand, you quickly snapped yourself out of your daze.

“Pleasure to meet you, Kookie. My name’s Y/n,” you smiled up at him, gently sliding your hand into his. It was warm but rough, knuckles covered in scabs and bruises. “Jeez, how’d you get these, huh?”

“Jungkookie can be a little clumsy at times, can’t you, bud?” Hoseok chuckled with a fond shake of his head.

“Kookie plays rough.” The bunny hummed honestly, tapping the back of his hand.

You snorted, “yeah, I can see that— whaaat are you doing.”

The hybrid had unexpectedly leaned forward as you were speaking, getting incredibly close to your face. Close enough that the tip of his nose nearly brushed against yours. Speaking of his nose– it was twitching in a ridiculously bunny–like manner, lips puckering in concentration as his brows furrowed.

“Smells nice. Kookie like.”

“Jungkook, what have I told you about sniffing strangers.” Hoseok scolded him like mother scolded her child for snagging a piece of candy from a convenience store without paying.

The large bunny turned to Hoseok with a faint pout on his lips. “Might not like.”

“That’s right, so you have to ask first.”

Jungkook stared at you unblinkingly, ears twitching forward, “can Kookie sniff?”

Your eyes flashed over the Hoseok, and he must’ve easily picked up on the uncertainty in your eyes. “Smelling helps him determine if you are a potential friend, and assures him that you aren’t a threat. It’s more of a comfort thing for Jungkook, he feels more at ease around people once he knows their scent,” he explained softly, while the bunny awaited your response.

“Uh— I, um… sure, I suppose?” You managed through your confusion, clearing your throat as your voice cracked.

Despite having given him your permission to sniff you— you still yelped in surprise as he buried his nose in the crook of you neck, inhaling deeply. A deep groan vibrated on your skin, making your entire body go rigid, eyes all but popping out of their sockets. Scratch what you said earlier. This was by far the most intimate encounter you’ve had with a man in the past few months��� er, years, but who’s counting?

A loud gasp snapped your mind right out of the gutter, your wide eyes easily spotting where it had come from. Taehyung stood at the end of the hall, absolute horror shining in his eyes at the scene laid out before him.

“No! Shoo, bunny! Mine, she’s my owner,” Taehyung shrieked, waving his arms around while rushing to your side and frantically trying to shoo the rabbit off.

The bunny blinked at the puppy hybrid before a cheeky smile graced his features and he turned to you, possessively wrapping his arms around your neck and tugging you into his large body.

“Kookie’s.”

“No! Bad bunny, she already said she’s adopting me, you can’t have her,” Taehyung whined loudly, glaring hard at the larger hybrid.

“Kookie’s.”

“Oh my god.” Your words were strained as the bunny squeezed you hard enough to have your ribcage constricting. Any tighter and he’d pop something out of place.

“Y/n! Tell him! You’re taking me home, not him, you said so!” Taehyung insisted, trying to reach you, only to be bumped to the side as Jungkook maneuvered his body to block the other hybrid.

“Kookie’s now.”

A forlorn howl erupted from Taehyung’s throat, his head tossing back as his knees crumpled beneath him.

You desperately looked towards Hoseok for help, having absolutely no clue what to do in the current situation. Your first time in a hybrid shelter and you’ve managed to break an innocent puppy’s heart and nearly get crushed to death by a gigantic rabbit hybrid.

“Jungkook, Taehyung, that’s enough! You are obviously overwhelming her, please show some consideration,” Hoseok voice boomed in the hallway as he scolded the two hybrids, “Jungkook, let go of her immediately. Taehyung, get off the floor.”

The bunny slowly let his arms drop, taking a sheepish step away from you. Taehyung bit his lip in embarrassment as he pushed himself up, shuffling on his feet. You were surprised at how easily they complied to Hoseok’s demand, especially having seen how Jungkook acting around Ms. Navarro. They must really respect him. Or were mildly terrified of him. Either or seemed fathomable.

“Thank you. Now please go to the common area for a little while and allow y/n to make a decision without you two hounding her and making it more stressful than it already is.”

Taehyung let out a weak protesting whine, only to slump in defeat at the pointed look he received from Hoseok. As both disappeared down the hall, you turned to look at Hoseok, distraught and confused. “What in the actual fucking hell just happened?”

He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, “well… you see… it would seem that Jungkook has also taking a liking to you.”

“So?”

“So… he wants you to adopt him as well.”

Holy mother of shitness.

Two hybrids? Wanted you to adopt them? You? Why? You’re probably— scratch that, definitely the least qualified person in this entire building to be owning two hybrids. So how the fuck did this happen?

“What do I do?” You asked, desperation seeping into your words.

“Well, you can either choose one…” you had a presentiment of the or that was about to come from his mouth, “or…,” there it is, “you could adopt both.”

“B–both?” You sputtered, damn near choking on air at the suggestion. You owning two hybrids? You owning two hybrids… a puppy and a bunny… they would definitely make the house feel a lot less lonely, that’s for sure. And wasn’t that why you wanted a hybrid in the first place? To rid yourself of the empty, cold feeling of isolation? “Shit, am I crazy for considering it?”

He shrugged, with a quiet chuckle, “only a little. They’re both great hybrids. Both with their… quirks.”

“What’s Jungkook’s deal?” You found yourself curious to learn more about the odd hybrid.

“Jungkook has been here for a two years, just about. His original owners adopted him as a toddler and neglected to teach him basic language skills that young hybrids usually receive from the online courses. He was initially dropped off here because they hadn’t expected him to get so big. It is unusual for a bunny hybrid to reach his height and weight. And he just hasn’t been adopted since. When people are looking for rabbit hybrids, the majority are looking for something small and cute and cuddly. He’s just… not what they’d expect.”

You frowned. “Why are people so shitty.”

“I ask myself that everyday! Working here comes with its perks, but it also makes you realize just how messed up some people are.”

You unfortunately didn’t doubt that for a moment.

Getting one hybrid was a big enough change in and of itself, but two? Could you handle it? Probably not. Would you end up losing your mind before the age of thirty? Most likely. Were you crazy enough to do it anyway?

Yes. Yes you were.

“Alright. I’ve made my decision,” you clapped your hands together loudly, grinning up at Hoseok.

“Already?” He blinked in surprise at how quickly you were able to make up your mind.

“Yup!”

“Who?”

“Both.”

“B–both?” He sputtered in disbelief that you’d actually listened to him, expression mirroring the one you had work earlier. Snickering softly, you nodded. “Do you think you’ll be able to handle it? Taking on two hybrids is a big responsibility. Especially hybrids like Jungkook and Taehyung.”

“Are you trying to dissuade me, Jung Hoseok?”

“No! No, not at all! I just don’t want you to take both home, then realize that you’re not able to handle both of them and end up bringing one or both of them back—” Hoseok let out a yelp of surprise as you took an abrupt step towards him, staring him dead in the eyes.

“I would never do that to either of them. I’m mature enough to know what I can and cannot handle. And if I knew I wouldn’t be able to love those boys the way they deserve to be love then I wouldn’t even be considering taking them in. I’m not some ignorant kid looking for a play thing to enjoy them throw away when I get bored. Like you said earlier… I’m looking for a family. And something about those boys tells me that they’re the perfect fit.”

“Ding, Ding, Ding! Right answer.” He grinned, patting you on the shoulder before smoothly stepping around you and trotting down the hall, “now let’s go adopt you some hybrids.”

You scoffed in amused disbelief upon realizing that that entire little conversation was a set up. “Clever, Jung Hoseok. Real clever,” you chuckled, trailing behind him. He guided you back to the front desk, grabbing all of the paperwork that needed to be filled out in order for the hybrids to legally become yours. The entire way, you couldn’t shake the smile so big that it was making your cheeks ache.

This was crazy, absolutely crazy. Adopting two of the cutest hybrids you’d ever seen in your life in one day… you were definitely questioning your own sanity. But Namjoon said that he’d always be there to help when you needed it. It wasn’t like you were going into this alone, which you were more than just grateful for.

You wondered about every possible thing that came to mind as you filled out the paperwork, page by page, reading over every line with scrutinizing eyes. Most of it was just legal stuff, who would be their vet and such. You’d already gone over most of it with Namjoon in the nights prior to actually coming here so it wasn’t difficult to recall.

Somewhere between the lines you heard a commotion. A group of three teenaged boys (couldn’t be more than thirteen years old) had walked into the shelter, laughing loudly and shoving one another. But their rowdiness quieted as they caught both your and Hoseok’s suspecting gazes, smiling innocently and waving. You got a bad vibe from them, but you tried to focus on finishing the paperwork as Hoseok (begrudgingly) asked what he could help them with.

After another ten some minutes, you reached the last page, brows raising as you read over the last line.

Hybrid’s signature of approval, it read. A faint smile touched your lips.

Hoseok, who’d returned from showing the group to where the hybrids were, must’ve seen the look on your face because he tapped the desk, drawing your attention back to him. “Ready?” You jumped out of your seat, nodding rapidly. He smiled happily at your enthusiasm, nodding towards the door, “let’s go get ‘em.”

By the time you reached the familiar door, your body was buzzing with excitement. All the hybrids had to do was write their signature of approval and they’d be yours.

But unfortunately, they weren’t the first people to catch your attention when the door swung open. In fact, it was the same group of boys as earlier, huddled together in a corner, jeering at a cowering hybrid who was weakly begging them to stop.

“Yah! Get away from him immediately.”

Oooh, Hoseok was maaaad.

The kind of mad where every vein in his neck and forehead was bulging and his face was slowly shifting into fifty shades of red. He stormed over to the group, who now seemed frozen in place at being caught in the act, you following close at his heel. He gathered them up by the backs of their shirts, sharply admonishing them.

“How dare you come in here, into their home, and harass them. How dare you think it’s the least bit acceptable to treat anyone with such disrespect. What will your mothers think about this?” He snarled, glaring eyes jumping from one boy to the next, committing their faces to memory.

“Please don’t call my mom!” One cried out as he dragged them away.

As Hoseok guided the boys out of the room, your eyes flickered back towards the boy. He was crouched against the wall, head tucked into his knees, arms hugging himself with whatever strength remained in his small form. Every few seconds, his body would quiver with what you guessed to be silent sobs. The sight was enough to have your heart shattering into a trillion tiny shards.

Before your mind could ration with your body, your feet were carrying you over to where he sat.

Quietly, you fell to your knees in front of him. He didn’t lift his head, but you knew that he was aware of your presence from the way his small black ears twitched forward, angling themselves attentively in your direction.

“Hello,” you uttered softly, as not to scare him. He was obviously already shaken and deeply upset by what had just occurred and you had no intention of worsening that feeling. When he failed to reply, you continued in that same gentle voice, “are you alright?”

The hybrid scoffed into his arms in disbelief.

You smiled weakly, “stupid question?” He only hummed. “I’m sorry… I’m not great at the whole consoling thing. Kids like that are inconsiderate assholes. Whatever they did or said— don’t believe it, they only want a reaction.”

“But it’s true,” The sharpness of his words caught you off guard, muffled but rigid with hurt and anger, “everything they said was true.”

“What’d they say, hun?” You coaxed carefully, tempted to reach out and touch his hand but knowing that may be crossing a line. He shook his head, burying his face further into the fabric of his sleeves. Sighing, you scooted closer to him, “It’s alright, you can tell me.”

His ears fluttered, as he rolled his neck just enough that he could peek up at you from the corner of his eye, squinting in attempt to get a clear view of your face. There was a moment of hesitation before he spoke again.

“They said… that nobody will ever want to adopt me… because I’m just a disgusting smelly animal… and—“ his voice croaked, “and they made fun of my tail.”

Instinctively you tried to glance behind him. But it seemed he’d tucked his tail safely out of sight of prying eyes as the only parts you could make out were soft looking tufts of black.

“Do you mind if I see your tail?”

He went rigid at the request, still feeling the painful aftershocks of insecurity stinging at his heart. He didn’t want to be judged. He didn’t want anyone else to think of him as a disgusting animal, something to be ashamed of. His body language easily portrayed this uncertainty.

But he took the chance nonetheless. Nestling his head down again to prevent himself from seeing your reaction, he rocked forward, his tail smoothly uncurling. The telltale snowy white stripes, split cleanly down the middle by a thick stream of black instantly gave away exactly what species the boy was. Silence followed, and it had him wanting to start balling all over again. But little did he know you weren’t gawking in disgust like so many others had, rather admiring.

“If my opinion counts for anything,” your voice, the soft genuineness of it surprised him, “I think your tail is very pretty. You should be proud of it.”

He didn’t say anything. And you guessed that was the end of your conversation. Saddened, you were about to stand when a small, nearly inaudible mumble came from hybrid.

“What was that?”

He took a deep breath, and lifted his head. You had to suck in a deep breath and hold it to keep yourself from squealing out loud at just how lovely he was. The sweetest brown eyes, wide and glossy and heavily lidded, a pair of the most beautiful lips you’d ever laid eyes on, along with the most squish-able cheeks imaginable; he was utterly breathtaking.

“You really… think it’s pretty?”

A smile touched your lips. “I think it’s beautiful. I think you are beautiful.”

A warm, pink blush illuminated his cheeks. “I’m not beautiful,” he quickly shook his head, but his ears were peeled forward, searching for more praise.

“You’re right, you’re not beautiful,” his face fell, tail dropping, “because beautiful isn’t a strong enough to describe you. You’re gorgeous, stunning, magnificent, ethereal!” He laughed loudly –a bubbly sound that was ridiculously contagious–, pressing his face into the palms of his hands once again. Only this time it wasn’t in shame or humiliation.

“That’s ridiculous…” he giggled.

“It’s the truth!” You insisted, once again tossing your hands around for emphasis. You giggled together, the smile alighting his features one of the prettiest you’d ever seen, and you quickly realized you’d do just about anything to see him smiling like that again.

Ah, shit. Here we go again.

“My name’s Y/n,” you introduced yourself for the fourth time that day, biting back a wide smile as his cheeks tinted pink.

“Jimin…” dear god even his name was pretty.

“Jimin,” you asked softly, “how would you feel about possibly—”

A low whine cut your question short. Taehyung and Jungkook scrambled up to you, the puppy latching onto your arm while the bunny pushed his nose against your cheek, sniffing and nuzzling affectionately.

“I missed you, y/n!” Taehyung whimpered, looking up at you with big shining eyes and a delicate pout. Jungkook hummed in agreement, not bothering to remove his nose from your skin.

“I just saw you,” you giggled, reaching up and gently ruffling his hair. He sighed, pushing into your pets and allowing his eyes to flutter.

“I know, but I still missed you.”

“Choose?” Jungkook impatiently interjected.

“Yes, I did choose.” You nodded, feeling Taehyung tense up at your side, his grip of your tightening tenfold. Jungkook’s ears perked, eyes going wide as he stared at you expectantly. “I chose both of you.”

“B–both of us?” Taehyung reiterated quietly, “you’re taking both of us home with you?”

“Is… is that alright?” 

You suddenly began to feel worried. You’d forgotten to ask them how they would feel living with one another. What if they didn’t want to be one of two hybrids, what if they wanted to be your one and only?

But all concerns were thrown out the window as Taehyung tackled you to the floor with a hug, yipping ecstatically while lathering your face in slobbery licks. You bellowed out laughs as the needy bunny hybrid quickly squirmed his way into the embrace, making soft grinding sounds with his teeth. “Kookie come, too?”

“Kookie come, too,” you confirmed, unable to control the grin that conquered your lips.

The bunny made a noise that prominently resembled that of a cat’s purr, eyes wrinkling at the corners as he smiled contently. You had almost lost yourself in the comfort and warmth the two large bodies of the hybrids were providing you with when you remembered the third sitting not a few feet away. You immediately sat back up, gently nudging the puppy and bunny away from you.

Jimin remained in the same spot, only now he looked deeply disheartened, tail and ears drooping, eyes downcast, lips twisted into a soft frown.

There was absolutely no way in hell that you could leave him here.

What was one more hybrid, huh? How much damage could the adorable little guy really do?

And at this point— fuck it.

“Jimin, would you like to come home with me— with us?”

He seemed taken off guard by the question, blinking rapidly before his face when hard. “I don’t need your pity.” He spat, quickly facing away from you. But you’d already seen the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“It’s not pity. I want you to be part of my family, Jimin.”

“It’ll be fun, Jiminie!” Taehyung suddenly exclaimed, scrambling over to the skunk hybrid with wide eyes and a wagging tail, “we can play all the time! And– and cuddle! And y/n is real nice; really really nice! We’ll have a home Jiminie! Like we’ve always wanted.”

You guessed the two must be friends from the affection way the hyper puppy nuzzled against the smaller boy affectionately and he didn’t flinch away. “Home…” Jimin murmured softly, with a hint of a smile, “that doesn’t sound so bad, I guess.”

At that very moment, Hoseok came bounding back into the room, immediately making a beeline to where you sat with the hybrids, “Jimin, are you alright? I can’t believe the audacity of kids now a days! Don’t worry, I made sure that they’ll never step foot in this facility again— did I… miss something?”

“I was just asking Jimin if he would like to come home with Jungkook, Taehyung, and I,” you explained with a brief side glance in the skunk hybrid’s direction. He was gnawing at his thick bottom lip, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. Hoseok looked at you with wide eyes, as if silently asking ‘anotha one?’ to which you smartly replied with, “go big or go home!”

“In that case, it’s up to Jiminie,” he squatted down beside Jungkook, ruffling the bunny’s hair and smiling softly, “would you like to be adopted by her?”

“Could you–” he cleared his throat as a humming red filtered into his cheeks, “come a little closer? I can’t see very well… and I–I’d like to see your face.”

You cooed softly, heart fluttering at his bashful confession before complying, leaning closer to him. He mirrored you, straining his neck and rapidly blinking his chocolate eyes. Your faces were inches away when suddenly his eyes popped open wide, his entire face becoming a throbbing crimson and he quickly ducked back into himself, curling his tail around his legs.

Shit, were you that hideous that you scared him back into the fetal position?

“A–are you good?” You coughed uncertainly. He nodded rapidly, still hiding his face.

“She’s real pretty right? Like an angel!” Taehyung gleefully squealed, nudging the flustered skunk. Your mouth open and shut quickly, on the verge of objecting when Jimin squeaked weakly, murmuring a shy agreement.

“V–very pretty…”

Queue your blushing cheeks and inability to take a compliment. “Okay, enough of that!” You shot a lighthearted glare in a grinning Taehyung’s direction.

“Jimin come?” Jungkook spoke up, blinking at you with an adorable tilt of his head. Your gaze shifted back to Jimin hopefully. He paused, glancing between the four of you before slowly nodding his head.

“I… I want you to adopt me.”

Taehyung let out a squeal of excitement, launching himself at Jimin as you smiled widely. Jungkook once again weaseled himself into the embrace, large body effectively shielding Jimin’s tiny form from view.

You felt a gentle hand come down on your shoulder, looking over to see an amused Hoseok holding out a slip of paper. It had his number on it and a funny looking winking face. “Good luck with that bunch. Text me if you ever need any help, one hybrid can be handful enough, but three?” He whistled, and you swatted him away with a playful glare. Giggling, he backed off, sending one last fond glance at the cuddling hybrids. “You’ve got this. I believe in you.”

Yeah... you were in for a wild ride.

Tags:

@kimsamueldeservesbetter @xxqueenwxtchxx

[noocturnalchild]

SEALED IN MARBLE  Chapter IV  A Woman

“ Your hand work is very precise”

Francisco talked more, he tried compliments, comments about the atelier, the garden flowers and the weather. He even invented, making up details about his daily routine as a servant.

But his attempts to entice more than a hum or a head bow were all infructuous.

“I’ve seen some pieces of art in my life.” He tried to enter the subject of art now, thinking that might be the only interesting matter in the sculptor’s eyes. “I’ve worked in places, changed masters, and seen things… but your work stands out in many aspects…” he paused.

The whistle of the birds, the trickling of water were his only answers.

The master sculptor continued working, with the same dexterity and precision, wiping up the marble with wet rags every time white dusting collected on the cracks he opened with his sculpting tools on the rough block.

“Your technique…” Garupe trailed his words, trying to make them linger in the air and watch the body language of the artist, for a sign, any sign. ”your touch… is very delicate on the marble, it has something… feminine. I mean, I mean… it in a good way, in the grace and -”

Thud.

Garupe jumped from his sitting position, startled.  It was just the chisel falling from the master’s hand and landing on the cold stone tiles.

“Can I help you with that?” Garupe stooped, his hand reaching for the tool, mirroring the movement of the master, who quickly, swiftly, with a rusting of fabric, picked it up, fingers lightly brushing those of the priest, just for a second. They were soft, Francisco noticed, the master was young, if it was to judge by the suppleness of his movements and now by the softness of his fingertips.

The master was never clumsy.

It must be something I said , Garupe thought.

And maybe the sign he was looking for. But what ?

What?

Francisco decided to push further. He felt he was near enough, near enough from a reality he started to suspect.

His mind traveled back to his first session. The touch of the master sculptor, the touch on his body, when he tried to position him, the very first time. The sweet feeling that made his body shudder in a sensation he had never known before… that provoked by gentle fingers pads, just brushing his skin, the smoothness of it all. He shook his head. An idea he couldn’t articulate bloomed in his mind, filling it with terror and disbelief.  

The air became somewhat thicker after the little incident as silence fell between them, and Francisco’s babbling quieted. The master seemed to collect himself, features unreadable in the shadows, but Garupe could swear he saw him trembling in his cloak, as he lined up his tools in their boxes on the table and covered the marble shape, signifying that the session was reaching its end.

What?

Could it be…?

Garupe mind’s still worked as he reached for his clothes, trying to overcome the burning twinge nagging in his head, urging him to know, now. He hesitated, folding them in his hand, frowning to them, then he turned his head, peeking under his shoulder maybe to make sure that the master was still there, or to try and catch a last glimpse as to disconfirm his doubts. And he was, the sculptor stood there, facing him, the cloak hood floating around a face, eyes glistening with orange fire, for a second, a stare that seemed to devour him…roaming his naked back before sliding back in the shadows, but at that time, it was too late.

Francisco turned with all his body now, discarding his cloths on the floor. Bare feet advancing led by dread and anticipation, growing with each silent step. The sculptor didn’t flinch, not even when Francisco stopped just inches away from him, breathing and waiting, giving time or asking for permission, nor did he recoil when the priest bent his big shoulders to look beyond the veils of darkness, opening for him.

«  you are a woman »

Garupe said matter of factly, voice blank and low and deep as his brown honey eyes bored into yours, into the secret they hid for years, under the veils of shame.

“You are a woman” he whispered as the realization sank deeper, emotions starting to reel in him. His eyes couldn’t look away, as they tried to take it all in at the same time, your features, the impossibly soft feminine shape and curves of your face, of your hair, at first with disbelief, as if to seek a mistake somewhere. But there was no mistake; you were a woman, frightfully so.

His hands still light on the folds of your hood, body bare, gently caressed by the black pleats of your large cloak as his shoulders curved to meet your height, your ragged breaths fanning his dark locks. It felt oddly intimate, wrongly intimate, and Francisco found himself watching the scene from outside his body. An outer body experience. Seconds passed before he realized the horror of his situation.

Merciful god, a woman !

Your feet couldn’t obey your command when he had stepped closer, nor when he reached for the tip of your hood, a grace in his careful steps, like that of a hunter approaching a doe. Something about the silence, something about the fresh summer breeze as the last hours of the night exhaled their rich scents, something in the trembling faint torchlight on the angles of his face and his eyes, pits of darkness and liquid honey. That “something” stilled you in place, dreading, waiting… wanting. Then he was crowding your space, his fingers pulling on your hood as yours remained paralyzed. You could not see that he was as afraid as you were, as frightened and as terrified and as overwhelmed, you couldn’t know, as his fingers pushed the hood away, the fabric slowly inching down and falling on your shoulders, along with your last defenses, liberating your luxurious curls and a gasp from your lips.

Your half heartedly kept secret was out now and you couldn’t deny your relief, despite the thick tension that settled between you. It was if as he hadn’t been able to bear the suspicion, as if he had needed to expose you, almost against his will. But you had dreamed of this, of showing yourself to him, and now you finally felt seen, really seen.

Your gaze was on his again, as silence lingered between pounding hearts, tattered shreds of reality and bewilderment.

“ Vicente…”

It was merely a sigh.

The first thing you wanted to say was his name. The first thing you wanted him to hear was his name.

Francisco

He corrected mentally, already feeling a pain he couldn’t place or comprehend from hearing another’s man name coming from your … oh so inviting lips.

But it was there for merely seconds, before the crushing reality hit him again, and he was jumping back, stumbling to cover himself, all muscles and force twirling in the space, on the verge of tearing your whole atelier apart in his attempts to undo his nudity. It left you wide eyed for a moment before you could speak again.

“ It’s useless now…” your tone was half amused, half resigned. A sense of loss slowly invaded you as you watched him cover up, and it was what you had feared all along.

“Who are you?”

It hurt. The tone of his voice hurt you, already accusative, angry, red flames blazing from his gorgeous eyes, as he fumbled with his slacks and abandoned on trying to put his shirt on, throwing it aside.

“As you can see with your own eyes, sir, I am a master sc—“ You wanted to appear firm and unfazed, stating the obvious.

“ All this time!” he spit out in disbelief, anger not leaving him as his hands trembled, finding support on your table that creaked under his weight.

Silence again.

Father Garupe tried to calm down. Wrath, wrath was a sin, but nothing in the whole situation was Christian enough to make him think in his priest logics, for the entirety of his actions bore the marks of sin, lately.

He had wanted to know and now he knew, he knew and he was …relieved, even, pleased with what his eyes saw. Even if he tried to push that thought away, for now.

Don’t look at her, don’t look at her anymore. But his eyes stayed locked on yours and yours turned sad, disappointed and angry at last .

“ What can a man understand in all this…” you gestured to yourself and to your surrounding, voice cracking at the last word.

“ You lied!” he screamed, his strong voice reverberating in the empty space, ricocheting on the walls and coming back to you, as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“ What difference does that make? Does it me less of an artist? Or did your man sensibilities get hurt? Because you stripped off in front of a woman?” your voice was trembling now, eyes watering, reducing your vision of him to a foggy figure, as your anger and pain boiled in your heart.

“ YES!” he shouted, jaw tensing.

He regretted it as soon as the word left his mouth.

But he was not lying. Yes, it troubled him more than he thought it would. The man he was was angry because he was lied to and the priest he was was fuming because, now, another sin was added to the others, because his modesty and chastity had been affected too, eventually leaving him almost empty handed, holding on to nothing, all his vows had been broken, trampled on.

A sense of helplessness invaded him then. his shoulders falling, his back curling on itself, all anger leaving him, as he saw your face ravaged by tears, an unbearable look of hurt in your beautiful eyes, deep and cutting, slicing his man’s and priest’s heart.

What had he done?

He felt as if he was at his confessional duties, rejecting a sinner after he had poured his whole heart out between his hands, waiting, expecting absolution, forgiveness and understanding.

But was she expecting the same when she let him expose her? What was she expecting?

Francisco was no fool. He knew that you let him.

But why?

“Y..es?” he heard your shattered voice, interrupting the train of his racing thoughts. A whisper of agony that made his heart break and flutter at the same time.

“I… didn’t… please… I didn’t mean-“

“No you did.” You shook your head, resigned, swallowing your tears.

“You are a good artist, you are, I didn’t mean that part …I really didn’t” his voice was soft now, a priest in confession duties. Soft and thick with guilt.

“you are better than many… men artists I’ve had the occasion to see at work…” He felt himself in duty to appease her now “tell me your name, child.” He found himself asking. A priest habit, anchored deep, he didn’t even notice how it slipped off his mouth.

Child…

Child?

If only that was said in other circumstances… You shook your head, it wasn’t time to remember how he made you feel, how he still makes you feel. Even then, when you were considering kicking him out of your atelier at any second.

“Is that how you call every woman you meet? Are we all underage for you, wise, grown up man?” you retorted, voice resounding with venom and sarcasm.

His mistake was apparently making things worse, worse and heading to irrevocable.

“ NO!. no.no.no. please listen… I…” he was rummaging through his head, searching for a lie, any lie, another lie, to make this stop. Garupe was not accustomed to conflicts, his priest life requiring obedience and a lot of composure and forgiveness, still he couldn’t believe that he was the one apologizing now.

“I have sisters, many little sisters, I call them this, all the time, sisters I dearly love and cherish, and no, I’m not accustomed to women’s company, besides them, if that’s what you‘re insinuating” He felt the burning need to justify himself, the veiled accusation stinging  nonetheless.

You seemed to calm down, even a bit ashamed, as you looked down and he exhaled, relieved.

“ I could never, never, prove anything if I told any of them who I am”

You let your weight fall on a chair, muscles exhausted of tensing up. Anger was a tiring exercise.

“they wouldn’t even let me try” your avoided his gaze as you talked, voice low and calmed now.

“ they wouldn’t” he agreed. He knew they wouldn’t. He never thought about …about the injustice of it, never deemed it as his center of concern, the fact that women weren’t allowed to teach, they weren’t allowed to do any men work… It was what the bible said, so it had to be right, right? But as he saw you now, this accomplished, talented artist, sitting in front of him, your small female figure sitting beside this raw, hard block of marble, making it… alive, he couldn’t help but think that God, you didn’t deserve to live in the shadow of who you were, to pay such a big price… to renounce to life and acknowledgment… and you were so young, and you were…God, you were beautiful. He shut down the gearwheels in his mind as he felt his thoughts racing to dangerous territories.

But now you were stepping near him, close, closer… and he didn’t know when you made your way to him, lost in his thoughts as he was, his breath caught in his lungs seeing your face, ignited by hope, your cheeks red and eyes wide, fresh tears still forming in their corners, sublimed by the dim light, as torch flames sizzled and crackled.

“Clarissa” you extended a soft small hand and he reached down to take it, maybe too fast, he thought.

“Clarissa” he repeated as his hand eclipsed yours, and your world fell apart.

[1rosex]

BTS Reaction to you confessing your crush on them

Request: I loved the angsty writing, can we pls get some fluff now of the members reactions to you confessing your crush on them?😭 Ty

A/N oops i got carried away

Masterlist

Jin

You were waiting for Jin to come out of practice, standing outside on the phone with a friend of yours. Today was the day you'd invited Jin to accompany you to the fair, your best friend, but also your longest crush. Jin came out of the building to meet you as you spoke to your friend over the phone. You failed to notice his presence.

"Yeah, I do like Jin. I know, I know I have to tell him. I will eventually! I hope.." You told your friend that Jin would be out soon and hung up the phone. You turned around to see Jin, his eyes wide. Your mouth fell open, but you were unable to say anything to save yourself.

"Ah! You ruined my plans Y/N!" He said dramatically as he turned away, his face red. You didn't know what he meant by that, but he didn't sound angry.

"Wait.. What?" You asked in confusion, wondering if confessing was the wrong idea.

"I was going to tell I liked you today!" Jin confessed, his face turning an even brighter shade of red as he made his usual yell of frustration mixed with nervous laughter. You couldn't help the smile from appearing on your face.

"Wait.. You.. You like me?" You didn't mean to sound like an excited little kid but you couldn't help it. Jin turned to you, unable to supress the own happiness on his face.

"Yes, Y/N. Ive liked you for a long time now. And I would have told you on top of the ferris wheel or somewhere romantic if I hadn't overheard you." He sighed.

"Well, I didn't ask you to eavesdrop." You joked. Jin shook his head.

"Well, now we can turn the fair into a date hm?"

Namjoon

You were listening to Namjoon rant about how his crush at the cafe kept ignoring him, he sounded upset. You nodded, listening intently but feeling your own heart hurt to see your biggest crush talking about someone else who showed no interest in him. What Namjoon needed though, was something to help him realize that the person he should be chasing after is you.

"And then! I thought it was all going well, and suddenly she turns around and flat out ignores me. She just left! Without a word!" Namjoon threw his hands up in the air, looking very confused. You couldn't help but laugh a little at his cute frustrated expression.

"Dont laugh!"

"Im sorry Joon. She just doesnt seem interested.. I mean, if I was your girlfriend-" You froze when you realized what you had just said. Namjoon was pulled out of his own thoughts, his eyes fixating on you.

".. If you were my girlfriend?" He repeated, his voice soft. You wanted to deny you ever said that, but the hope that had appeared in his eyes urged you to continue.

".. I.. I would be happy to be talked to. I wouldn't ignore you." You said, daring to keep eye contact. Namjoon's lips were suddenly changing into a smile, his dimples appearing on the side of his cheeks. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying- I’m saying I like you. And I wish I was the one you had a crush on.”

"You don't know how long I've hoped you'd say something like that."

Yoongi

In hindsight, playing Truth or Dare with your best friend Yoongi was probably not the best idea. You were both all worn out of dares, you'd already had him sing a whole serenade and send it to the group chat and he had you hide a fake rubber snake in Hoseok's dorm. The poor sunshine. Now, you'd moved on to truths.

"Okay Y/N, your truth." Yoongi tapped his chin and looked at you knowingly. How could he possibly think of anything? Yoongi knew you better than anyone.

"Who's your crush?" He asked, a question that got you off guard.

"Wait.. My crush? Yoongi, thats ridiculous. No way I'd have a crush and not tell you.." You laughed nervously.

"Hey now, play fair. You're lying to me Y/N." Yoongi had a smile on his face that was making you very suspicious. He was your crush. Why was he acting this way? Maybe he knew about it.. Maybe he’d found out. But how did he find out? However he did, you could see that he knew something was up and he wasn't letting you get away that easy.

"I'm.. Im not lying.."

"False. I heard you talking to your friend last night about a certain guy, and I want to know who."

"Why were you listening to our conversation?"

"Uh.. Not the point.."

You took a deep breath and looked at him. You needed to confess eventually.

"Fine. I do have a crush. My crush.. My crush is.." You were having trouble spitting it out. You were so afraid of ruining this friendship, but you knew you felt more for him. He sat there, patiently waiting for his answer. You couldn't anymore, you loved those eyes and everything else about him. "You dammit, I like you."

It was silent, and Yoongi's expression was impossible to read. You began to doubt yourself.

"Truth or dare, Y/N." He asked, breaking the silence. You looked at him in confusion, wondering if he'd even heard you. "What..? Dare I guess.."

"I dare you to kiss me."

J-Hope

You never intended to fall in love with your best friend. But with his lovable personality and his selflessness, how could you not? He was the best person you'd ever met. You were out at a restaurant with Hoseok, acting as you usually did. Despite being just friends, you were both a very touchy and playful pair. The waitress smiled at you two as she set the menus down.

"Oh, you two are so cute together. There's a discount for couples today, I'll be back to take your order." She smiled.

"Oh we're not-"

"No we aren't-" You both started talking over each other, your faces red as you denied the accusation. The lady just laughed and apologized before leaving you two alone to look. You glanced over at Hoseok, he looked really nervous all of a sudden. Was it really that bad of an idea to him? Discouraged, you grabbed your menu and kept your gaze down.

"Wouldn't we make a cute couple though?" Hoseok suddenly said. You blinked in surprise and looked up at him.

"What.. Hoseok dont play with me like that." You frowned, thinking he was joking. But Hoseok just looked up at you with a serious look in his eyes, waiting for an anwer. You swallowed and looked back down.

".. Yeah, I think we would." You said, barely audible. Hoseok grinned, you hated that smile. That smile that meant he knew exactly what you were thinking, and he knew how to tease you till he got the truth out. He knew about your crush, you were sure of it.

"Do you like me, Y/N?" He asked, straight to the point.

You hesitated, keeping your eyes glued to the menu until he reached over and grabbed it from your hands. You slowly looked up at him. "I do Hoseok. I like you." The whole restaurant seemed to hush, you were afraid Hoseok could hear your heart about to pound out of your chest. But then you felt his arm around you, and his face leaning closer to yours.

"Then I guess we do get that couple discount, hm?"

Jimin

You'd spent the whole day hanging out with Jimin, but now you were walking home and your time to say goodbye was nearing. Jimin gave you his goodbye and turned to leave as you called after him. "Bye Jimin, I love you!" You immediately froze in place. Had you just told your best friend you loved him? Oh, fuck. You didn't dare look back as you started to leave, hearing pure silence from Jimin for what felt like a long time.

".. What?" He eventually called out after you. You laughed nervously, then did the only thing you could think of. You took off sprinting towards your house. You heard footsteps behind you and Jimin calling your name, but you were running in blind panic. Suddenly you felt two arms around you and you yelled as he tackled you and you both rolled over onto the grass. You sat up, turning around to see Jimin struggling to stabilize himself after the fall.

" Wait! Sorry I didnt mean to tackle you- but that's not my point!" He said in a rush, looking dizzy. "Why did you run Y/N? What.. What kind of love?"

You sat there in the grass, trying to catch your breath while staring into Jimin's expectant eyes. "The kind of love that's not just between friends.." You finally admitted. You looked away, starting to get up. Jimin's hand was suddenly on your own, and you turned in surprise to see him smiling up at you.

"Then maybe we don't have to be just friends."

Taehyung

You had been friends with Taehyung for a long time before you even realized you had feelings for him. At first you tried to keep them secret, but lately you couldn't contain them anymore. The way he smiled at you, his laugh when you said something funny, those moments he brushed up on you. You wanted more. One day, you two were laying down watching movies and you couldn't resist anymore. You were both tired from staying up so long, your drowsiness was clouding your judgment. You looked over at Taehyung, with his stupid, cute little tired eyes, and his stupid, perfect face. It almost made you angry how strong your feelings for him were.

"I love you." You blurted out. Your heart skipped a beat, everything seemed to freeze as you realized what you just said.

Taehyung despite being tired, snapped to attention and turned to look at you.

"You what?" He asked, the television illuminating his innocent brown eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to say it again. Regretting it, you promptly rolled over and pretended to be asleep to avoid his questions. You knew he probably wouldn't buy it, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn back and face him. It was quiet for a while, the only sound was the faint voices coming from the television. Suddenly you felt one of Taehyung's arms drape over your side, his head pressing into the small of your back.

"I love you too Y/N."

Jungkook

You were sitting across from your best friend Jungkook, both of you absent mindedly scrolling through your phones. This is how you hung out most of the time. As you were scrolling, you found a video that made you laugh. It was one of those, "send this to your crush with no context" kind of videos. Jungkook arched an eyebrow and looked up at you. "You know the rules." He said. The rule, well the rule was basically that you had to send any video you found funny to the other person so they could enjoy it too. Your face went red, Jungkook was your crush.

"But.. Jungkook I can't do it with this-"

"Y/nnnn" Jungkook whined. You gulped. After a moment of staring at him, you sent him the video. You slammed your phone down, regretting your decision as you looked away. Jungkook watched the video with a completely blank expression, and as it came to and end he looked up you with an expression you hadn't seen in his eyes before.

"So do you mean it?" Junkook asked.

"Mean what?"

"The video."

"What video?"

"The one you just sent-"

"I didn't send anything." You lied quickly, and Jungkook stood up and leaned over the table at you with a smile.

"Y/N! Stop! Do you like me?" He asked, straight forward. You had no idea where his confidence was coming from, and frankly neither did he. You swallowed nervously and nodded silently. It was Jungkook's turn to be flustered now as he sunk back in his seat, trying to control his expression

"Does that mean.. we’re like.. d-dating?”

[ignaziosearring]

I have a request that isn't xmas or new year's eve themed (it can be tho) it's about the song El Reloj, it is a beautiful song that I love so much from the boys. It is in Spanish so I don't know if it is possible. I like your imagines very much!! Specially the Ignazio ones🙈

This is not where i explain why i have been so silent over the past few months. This is where i announce that I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH AND I’VE MISSED WRITING SOOO MUCH! Hopefully, I’ll be much more active from now on as i try to balance everything with uni.

I have been writing this story for about 4 months, going on and off, deleting and starting again. It’s *too* long, like 1600ish long, but i think it needed this length. The topic is a *bit* dramatic (trigger warning), bc you know me😇. Also please allow me to dedicate it to my uncle who passed away on Sunday bc of cancer.

I’M BACK PEOPLE PASS IT ON! LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT!

Xx

~•~

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The transparent liquid was falling in drops from the IV bag to a small cylinder. The drops were synchronized with the shrill beeping sound coming from the heart monitor. The door opened and let a cold breeze sweep inside the room. It took a worryingly high amount of energy to lift my hands and rub my arms. It took more time too. The bones felt heavy and numb. The side effects of morphine. At least the pain was bearable, even for the ultimate hours.

“Are you cold?”

Gianluca had come inside. The glass window reflected his tired figure. His eyes were red and swollen, a sign he had been crying again. Before reaching this stage I would have thought this as an oxymoron. Gianluca was healthy, young and beautiful. He would live a long and happy life. He wasn’t dependent on anyone or anything. He wasn’t in constant and unstoppable pain. He wasn’t counting down the remaining months, days, hours. He didn’t see the last glimmers of hope wash away in one frown of a doctor. Yet he was the one crying.

“Let me cover you.”

His moves were careful and balanced, as always.

“They’re trying to tackle the heat wave with the air conditioning.”

Smalltalk. He was poorly attempting -and failing- to avoid the issue that had risen a barrier between us the past two weeks. He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. I observed him carefully in silence. His body was tense as he sat down on the chair beside me.

Then, I turned my head to the window again and were confronted with my miserable reality. A body that was fighting itself. Flesh ashen, paler than a ghost, lanced here and there for various medical exams, hanging on bones. A red scarf was covering the bald head. Soul and mind twisted by a sickness that had come all too quickly to end a life in its blooming days. I couldn’t recognize myself in that reflection. I was long gone. The word “terminal” had been vibrating in my ears and hunting me in my nightmares every night.

“There’s no moon tonight. Only the stars.”

He too had turned his gaze to the window. I glanced at the sky and realized that stars would start falling soon. That special night of every year. The magnificent phenomenon that ten years ago had become the reason we had met.

“Gian.”

Our eyes met momentarily for the first time in a long while.

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Wish that the medicine won’t work.”

His initial surprise was replaced by guilt.

“You haven’t made peace with my decision, Gian.”

I wasn’t angry, on the contrary I was smiling understandingly at him.

“Wha- why do you say that?”

He was stuttering and nervously running his fingers through his hair, like a young boy caught doing a mischief.

“You were crying, you can’t stand looking at me for more than two seconds and you’re trying to avoid talking about it by making damn smalltalk. You are angry.”

The outburst that followed was exactly what I was hoping for. I knew him better than anyone, he always bottled up his feelings and let them torment him. I didn’t want to leave him in anger along with everything else.

He jumped up and kicked his chair hard, fresh tears already visible.

“Of course I’m angry! Tonight I have to say goodbye to the love of my life! I’m angry at God, the universe or whatever it is that is out there. How can they be so cruel? Who gave them the right to do this to you? To us? It shouldn’t have been like that. We should have been old, very old, with grandchildren or even great grandchildren. You are too young to die.”

The raised voice and rapid flow of speech, the spitting of words gave their place to a sorrowful whisper.

“It’s too soon to say goodbye.”

He had slid down the door and had folded his body, his face buried in his hands.

“Gian, I know it’s not only that you are angry with. Say it. It will liberate you. It will liberate me.”

He raised his face slowly and gazed at me. His look was filled with regret, wrath, sorrow, pain. His lips were pouted.

“No.”

His answer was firm now.

“I don’t want to fight in our last day.”

“And I don’t want to go without making things right between us.”

A piercing look was enough to convince him to sit again beside me.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m angry at you? Yes, (y/n), I am angry at you, here, you have it. You, you gave up. On yourself, on our relationship, on me.”

“I didn’t. I am not giving up right now. This medicine is not giving up”, I pointed at the IV.

“If I had given up we would have been having this conversation 6 months ago. I didn’t give up when the doctor said terminal, nor when he said that all I had left was eight painful, excruciating, humiliating, inhumane months. I didn’t give up when the first clinical trial you managed to get me on failed. Nor the second, the third, the forth. I didn’t give up even though the only thing I gained from those trials was more pain, all while losing my mind cell by cell. I did it for you. I saw the determination in your expression to prove the doctors wrong, the sleep deprived eyes that had spent innumerable nights going through research by research, the contacts with pioneer oncologists from all around the world to get me on their trials or suggest a different, more promising medical plan.”

Speaking for that long was exhausting and made me burst into coughs. His look softened and became worried as he gave me some water.

“Then why are you doing this now? Even if we couldn’t get you on another clinical trial, we would still have two months, just the two of us. We would go home, spend those two months together. We would have more time!”

His voice came out as an exasperated whisper. One last hopeless beg.

“We wouldn’t.”

I was firm. I looked him in the eyes and finally spoke my truth.

“You need to understand Gian. This is not me. This is not the (y/n) you met, fell in love with and married.”

He tried to stop me but I raised my palm firmly and continued decisively.

“I can’t even bear to look at my reflection on the window. And when I do, when I do I can barely recognize myself in there. Do you think it’s easy for me? Don’t you think I want more time? I wanted to grow old with you and bear your children. I wanted to achieve all the dreams I had ever since I can remember myself. God knows how hard I wish for more time. Even when I signed that paper. Even now. But not like this. This is something I can’t keep going through.”

“(Y/n)…”

He burst iinto tears. The body mechanism to get one’s pain roll down and wipe away. I started crying too. He understood. I knew he understood, otherwise he wouldn’t have let himself pull apart in front of me. He knew I had to do it.

“It’s better this way Gian. I know it’s already painful enough for you to see me wash away all these months. This will save you at least some pain. You’ll see me go down sane enough. A good comander knows when they’ve lost the war, isn’t this what they’re saying?”

He chuckled and took a deep breath to gain his composure.

“Come here lay beside me.”

We laid on our sides and hungrily looked each other in the eyes. Our sobs were quieting down.

“Gian”, i began, “I want you to promise me something.”

His expression darkened again.

“Don’t say it.”

“Listen to me. I know it hurts but you need to. After tonight you’ll be alone. I don’t want grief to blind you. Take your time to cry, to unleash the emotions that are meddling with your mind. But don’t waste this gift you were so graciously given. Don’t let your life perish. Live Gian. Do you remember my favourite movie?”

“Dead poets’ society…”

“Professor Keating fought to teach those children to seize the day, Gian. All the nights I couldn’t sleep because of the pain I’d go back in time and realise that i let so many days go by in vain. Our worst sin is that we think we are immortal. We always think there will be enough time to do everything we want, someday. But there comes a time that you are faced with the fact that you can’t. It’s too late. The clock is running out of battery and will stop ticking soon. All you have accomplished seems too little, all your dreams become missed opportunities, just because you thought you would achieve them later. There is no «later», Gian, only «now».”

I touched his cheek where a tear was rolling down.

“Don’t let my memory hunt you. Remember me with love, treasure our moments, but move on.”

“I… I can’t,” he mumbled, looking away, “you are the one for me.”

“I can’t be, Gian. You are the one for me, but I’m not. Otherwise this wouldn’t be happening. Somewhere out there is a very lucky girl that will capture your heart. And I will be more than happy when you meet her.”

He closed his eyes tightly to fight his tears.

“Don’t die with me tonight, Gian. Just promise me this.”

He didn’t say anything. He just nodded with his eyes still closed.

For me, it was enough.

He hugged me and helped me turn around. Like the past 10 years, we looked at the exploding stars leaving their last mark on the universe. I made one wish. I felt free. And then…

Salvation.

[lofitojii]

Space [IV]

Summery: Everything is quite uncertain in this life, who is here to stay who is going to be temporary. He was, by far, the most uncertain.

Word count: 5.1k 

Instagram: lqxpcy

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

You felt beads of sweat slide down your face as you laid there, letting the water take over your body. The steam had risen, being trapped in the small bathroom you had locked yourself in. The water gently burned your sensitive skin as you awaited for the right time to get out. You never really got much time to yourself so you didn’t mind wasting a few hours by just enjoying your time alone. It was also your time to think about what you had to say to Jongin, after you had agreed to meet him for coffee.

You lowered your body deeper into the tub, letting yourself stop right before the water hit the tip off you nose. The last thing you wanted to do on your day off was to go and confront unwanted feelings with a boy who had once broke your heart. He was one of the few people who had really gotten to you and messed around with your confused mixed up emotions. He knew what he was doing. He knew damn well.

You felt your phone vibrate against the bathroom sink, glancing over at the marble counter. You let out a deep sigh before finally lifting your body, embracing the cold winter air that had taken the city by surprise. You wrapped your fluffy green towel around your body, trying to dry off your hands as best as you could before reaching for your phone. You pressed the green answer button and raised it to your ear.

“Hello,” you answered, balancing the phone between your ear and your shoulder. You leaned down, picking up your dirty clothes that you had slept in the previous night, clinging them to your chest as you unlocked your bathroom door.

“Hey sorry to bug you,” you heard Chanyeol’s deep voice come from the other side. “I know it’s your day off and all but I’m on your side of town and I have that book you were talking about with me. Is it okay if I drop it off?” You were confused as to why Chanyeol would be across town so early in the morning when he lived a good 20 minutes away from your place. None the less, you agreed and asked him to give you a few minutes to get yourself ready which he had agreed to.

You hung up your phone, throwing it at the end of your bed, letting it bounce onto the screen face down. You quickly threw on some jeans and a clean sweater, something you wouldn’t wear if it wasn’t your day off but luckily, it was. Your feet slid across the hardwood floor in your fuzzy socks as you made your way into your front room, awaiting for your friends arrival.

“Your place is kind of hard to find,” Chanyeol said as you opened the door. “The GPS took me all the way down the street.”

“Maybe it’s an android thing,” you joked, pointing at his new phone that he had purchased not too long ago. He shot you a glare before removing his shoes and taking off his winter jacket. He set it aside, reaching into his bag that he brought along and handing you a book. It was on old, clique romance novel you had been wanting to read for some time now and Chanyeol just happened to have a copy of it that he said you could borrow.

“You can keep that too,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I have another copy somewhere. Plus, I want that book to go into good hands.” You flipped through the pages of the worn out book, looking at the small hand written notes Chanyeol had written in himself, marking his favorite spots. You smiled and thanked him, putting the book on your bookshelf so you wouldn’t lose it.

Chanyeol let out a deep sigh before finally taking a seat at the small kitchen table you had set up. You poured the both of you a cup of tea, bringing it over and setting it down in front of him. Chanyeol smiled and thanked you, lifting the cup to his lips and slightly blowing on the hot liquid. “Let me know what you think about Wuthering Heights when you finish it. It’s one of my favorite books.”

“I will,” you agreed, taking a sip of your own tea. It burnt your mouth, leaving a burning sensation as it went down your throat. You coughed a little, wincing at the pain it had caused you. You set the tea down, trying to let it cool before taking another sip. “Why were you out here today? I mean on this side of town.”

“Visiting a friend,” Chanyeol replied. “He lives around this same area. I was picking up some new recording equipment when I remembered you lived over here.” He rested his elbows on the table, placing his head on his intertwined fingers. “Plus I may or may not have overheard Jongin talking to Junmyeon about seeing you this morning.”

“Right,” you nodded your head, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “That’s a thing still.” You looked down at your coffee mug filled with tea since you didn’t really own any nice tea cups. You traced the cup with your index finger, trying to avoid all eye contact with Chanyeol who was sitting right in front of you.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, Y/n,” Chanyeol stated. “I can see how bad this really affects you and I can see why Jongin is stressed about it.” You looked up and Chanyeol who was staring out the window that exposed your whole kitchen area. You were on the fourth floor but it was still pretty exposed to the outside world.

“He hasn’t told you?” You raised an eyebrow, thinking that Jongin would have said something by now to his friends.

“He hasn’t told anyone. Junmyeon doesn’t even know. I heard them fighting last night, Junmyeon trying to pry it out of Jongin but Jongin won’t budge and usually he’s a pretty open guy.” You were confused as to why Jongin had kept it a secret from his best friends. Then again, you hadn’t mentioned it to anyone either so it was fair to say the situation really was affecting both of you.

“You know how Jongin and I grew up together, right?” You started, trying form words so that they would make sense. Your mind was clouded and you felt a wave of fear take over your body. “Well the day we left for Seoul, after graduation, we were all staying with Junmyeon at his place in the city. It wasn’t very big but it was just temporary until I moved into this place and Jongin and Jongdae found out if they made it into SM or not. After they made it and they helped me move into my apartment, Jongin… Me and Jongin went on a couple of dates. He had asked me out a couple times and I agreed to go. It was almost like I had been dreaming the whole time. I have had these feelings in me, growing every time I would even come into contact with Jongin. Being around him made me feel special and I hate to admit it but I had fallen in love with him.” It felt foreign, just spitting out all your feelings onto the table to a guy you barely knew. He didn’t seem to mind as the tears fell softly onto your cheeks, rolling against your hot skin.

“What happened between you two?” Chanyeol questioned. He looked genuinely interested and concerned from afar, just watching you break down in front of him. You didn’t want to continue the story. You didn’t want to go meet Jongin after your had just poured your heart out to Chanyeol. You didn’t want to move.

“I told him that I had fallen in love with him and it scared him. He freaked out and said how he was too young and wasn’t ready for a relationship. I had never seen him so angry before so it really scared me. He told me that I wasn’t right for him and that I wasn’t the girl he wanted in his life. I remember feeling the world just crumble beneath my feet as those words left his mouth. He said he hated being my friend and how I was too easy of a pushover for his liking. Those words really struck me and to this day, I still hear the way he had said it.” In a way it felt nice having those words out in the open and sharing it with someone you knew would keep it to themselves felt even better.

Chanyeol got up from his seat and took the spot in the chair next to yours. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest as he comforted you as you let out small sobs. He rubbed his hand up and down your arm, creating a warm feeling against your skin. You brought your sleeve up to your face, wiping the tears away from your puffy red eyes. You looked up at Chanyeol, giving him a small smile.

“Jongin was a little shit back before we debuted,” Chanyeol laughed, lifting himself so you would look at him. “He really was. He would be out late every night with a different girl, showing up late to practice and what not. It wasn’t until Junmyeon snapped at him at practice one day. He picked himself up and tried his best to be a better person. I’m glad you agreed to talk to him. It will be good for the both of you. And trust me when I say this, he really is a good guy.” You thanked Chanyeol and apologized for crying like that in front of him. He just let it slide, giving you one last hug before putting on his jacket and slipping back on his shoes. “Please call me if you need anything, okay? Take care Y/n.” And with that, Chanyeol left you alone in your apartment.

You didn’t really know how talking with Jongin was going to go. It was a sensitive subject to you and you knew you were going to get upset and could already feel the tears forming. Although talking about the situation with Chanyeol was comforting and made things a little easier on you, it was still hard facing the man you had once loved only to be destroyed by his harsh words.

You were waiting in the small coffee shop, bringing both your laptop and planner so you could get some work down before the show tomorrow. It was hard focusing on the screen in front of you, knowing that Jongin was going to show up any minute to confront the situation at hand. Every time you would hear the ding of the door, your heart would start to beat really fast, hearing it in your ears but every time you turned around, it wasn’t him. You had almost given up, thinking that maybe he didn’t want to fix things. That he just wanted to play you again. In your mind, no matter how much he had changed, you still felt as if he was the same guy who had yelled at you, in the middle of the night, sending you to walk home in the cold.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you heard Jongin’s voice as he sat down in front of you, resting his body in the chair. “I got caught up at work and it was hard for me to leave.” You closed your laptop, moving it out of the way and handing Jongin a cup of coffee that you had ordered him.

“I didn’t know if you still liked the americano or not so I just got you one,” you shrugged. Jongin smiled and took the coffee from your hands and thanked you.

“Still my favorite,” he motioned, taking a sip. You stared as he took a sip from his cold coffee, admiring every swift movement as he did so. It made your heart flutter even though, at the same time, made your chest tighten. You hated how he made you felt. You hated feeling this way around him, that feeling of suffocation. “What were you working on?”

“Oh just working on some scheduling for the group,” you shrugged.

“We need someone like you over at SM. Our manager sucks at-”

“Jongin,” you cut him off. “I’m sorry but can we just cut to the chase?” It was eating you alive. You just wanted to get it over and done with, getting back to your home and just getting some well needed rest. You just wanted to stop stressing over this stupid.

Jongin took a deep breath before finally getting the courage to say something. “I’m sorry.” You looked at the way he was fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, knowing he was just as nervous as you were.

“I know you are,” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “Explain to me why you said the things you did if you’re sorry. I want to know the reasoning behind your arrogant comments.” This new form of confidence was helping you fight back the tears. You didn’t want to seem like you were still hurting over his harsh words, four years later.

“I was scared,” Jongin started. “I was scared to fall in love with you because of our future. We both were moving onto bigger and better things in life and I was worried that once we made it to where we are today, we wouldn’t love each other anymore. My biggest fear was falling out of love and instead of telling you how I felt, I ruined our whole friendship.” You felt your heart tighten at the words. All you had ever wanted was to hear him tell you that he loved you. That he wanted you as much as you wanted him and in that moment, he was saying what you had always wanted to hear. “I hurt you and I’m so sorry about that. I wasn’t smart back then and I realize my mistakes.”

“Would you have called me even if you didn’t run into me the other day?” you questioned. “Would you have gone out of the way to apologize to me? You hadn’t contacted me in four years Jongin. Why now? What the hell makes now okay?”

“I did try!” He shot back. “I called your home phone like twice a day for two weeks. You never answered. I didn’t have your cell phone number and I’m not exactly allowed over at JYP.” He looked like a mess, arguing with you about some silly reason as to why he hadn’t called. You hadn’t gotten any voicemails from him nor did you ever hear him call but then again, you weren’t one to check your home phone. “I am sorry Y/n. And I want to start over. I want to get our friendship we once had, back.”

“We were pretty close friends,” you laughed, lifting your knee up on your chair. You rested your head on top of you knee, admiring Jongin’s shy smile at your comment.

“We were. You were my best friend and I want my best friend back.” You missed Jongin. You missed everything about him, being his friend, being able to come to him with your problems and having him help you through it. “I mean it when I say that I’m sorry. If I could go back and fix things, I would. But I can’t. I am not the same person as I used to be and all I’m asking for is a chance to show you that I have changed.”

You two were rudely interrupted by screaming fans and paparazzi outside, capturing photos and screaming that could be heard from miles away. “Damn it,” Jongin cursed under his breath as he lowered his head. “I’m sorry Y/n. I didn’t know-”

“It happens,” You cut him off. Jongin stood up, waiting for you to get your things together and followed him out of the little shop. It was almost too much for your own comfort. You felt yourself getting lost in the crowd of people. You felt Jongin snake his arm around your waist, leading you over to his car and letting you slide in the passenger seat. He quickly drove off, leaving behind the crowd of people that had followed him there.

“I don’t know how they do it,” Jongin sighed, keeping his eyes locked on the road in front of him. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“I hang out with Jinyoung almost every day. I know what it’s like,” you laughed, not really caring too much about what had just happened. Jongin clenched his jaw, not replying to the comment. His hand was gripped around the his steering wheel, his fingers grazing over the rough material. You could tell he was pretty sensitive to Jinyoung talk so you kept quiet for the next little while until he finally pulled into a parking garage with a few other cars around. One of the license plates read BBH which you assumed was on of the members cars. “Why are we at your place?”

“I just want to wait out the fans and press for a while and they’re not allowed past the gate down the road so we’re just going to lay low here for a while, if that’s okay?” Jongin had a point. He was always in some sort of dating scandal with the press and him being seen with you, a person who works for a different company, it’s going to blow up in the media.

He led you up the cement steps, opening a door that lead right into the mud room of his place. You slipped off your shoes and placed your computer bag down next to them, making sure they were secured and out of the way. Jongin placed his keys on the kitchen counter which had caught your attention. The place was absolutely huge. It had to be huge because of how many people were living in one place but you didn’t expect it to be a mansion. Jongin laughed at your reaction to his place, nodding his head in agreement to your silent amazement. “It’s huge.”

“Yeah it is,” you agreed, looking up at the hanging lights and sleek black cupboards.

“I’ll show you around.” He led you towards what you assumed was the living area coming across two boys who were sitting there, watching some sort of sitcom on the television. They both looked over in your direction and went wide eyed. “Guys, this is Y/n, and old friend of mine.”

“This is Y/n?” He got to his feet and made his way over to you, reaching his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Baekhyun. Jongin doesn’t shut up about you.”

“Shut up,” Jongin said, hitting his arm which made Baekhyun laugh and protect his body from Jongin’s hits. “That over there is Sehun.” You waved at the boy who just smiled and went back to watching the TV. “He’s kind of bad at meeting new people.”

“Fuck you,” Sehun mumbled, causing you to laugh a little at his reaction which caused a small smile to creep across Sehun’s lips as well. Jongin motioned towards a set of stairs and you followed him slowly down to the downstairs area. You came to what looked like a game room with a small bar off to the side, a pool table right in the middle, a huge theatre like TV off in the corner with three different gaming systems and a ping pong table off to the right. Chanyeol sat at the bar with Minseok, both having a bottle of beer in their hands as they talked about some song they had heard. Chanyeol noticed you first and smiled.

“I didn’t know you were coming over!” Chanyeol got up and slid his way over to you. You could tell he was a bit tipsy from his beer he had in his hand. He laughed and gave you a hug which made Jongin raise an eyebrow.

“You guys are friends?” He said, pointing at both of you.

“New friends, yeah,” Chanyeol smiled. “We talk off the cameras too buddy. Do you want something to drink?” Chanyeol walked off back towards the little bar area, pulling a can of soda out of the small fridge and bringing it over to you.

“I haven’t got to meet you officially,” Minseok smiled, coming over and giving you a hug. He was around the same height as you. “I’m Xiumin but you can call me Minseok.”

“Noted,” you smiled at the boy.

“I’m glad you’re here! It’s nice to see a new face here every once in awhile.” Minseok walked back over to the huge stereo, changing the music that was playing softly in the background. Chanyeol had decided to tag along with you and Jongin on the rest of the house tour, coming up to what you assumed to be a personal studio. Jongdae and two other boys sat there, going over some software on a computer that was set up.

“We have a visitor,” Jongin interrupted, pulling the attention of all three boys. Jongdae got up and screamed, pulling you into a hug.

“She came!” he laughed, keeping his arm around your shoulder as he stepped aside so you could see the other two boys. “This is Yixing and Kyungsoo. Guys, this is Y/n!”

“The girl who rejected you in high school?” Kyungsoo pointed out. You looked over at Jongdae who was bright red at the comment.

“What are they talking about?” You questioned. “When did I reject you?”

“When I asked you to prom sophomore year?” He replied, trying to laugh it off.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t… Oh my god.” You remembered the time that Jongdae had walked home with you, asking if you were busy that Friday night and now that you think about it, you totally had rejected him. “Jongdae I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“I get that a lot.” Everyone in the room laughed at the small comment and interaction between you and Jongdae. Jongdae went back and sat down in his spot, joining his other two friends who were still talking about how Jongdae wasn’t good at talking to girls, even to this day which made you laugh. Jongin pulled at your sweater, leading you out of the room while the rest of the boys sat and chatted.

You walked alongside with Jongin, going back to the main level, walking back into the kitchen where you were met by Junmyeon. He looked up from his phone, smile growing as you approached him. “Y/n! I didn’t know you were stopping by?”

“Long story,” you waved off. “Thought I’d come say hi. Nice place!” You conversation was cut short when you heard the doorbell ring, grabbing all of your attention. You heard the door open, Baekhyun’s voice thanking the person then the door slamming.

“I ordered pizza,” Baekhyun said, coming in with five boxes of pizza in his hand. Sehun followed slowly behind, carrying boxes of what you assumed to be breadsticks. Baekhyun walked over, placing them on the counter and looking over in your direction. “Joining us for dinner tonight?”

“Oh I can’t do that. There is already so many of you I just-”

“Shut up,” Jongin cut you off. “I have never seen a girl put pizza away like Y/n here can. She’s having dinner with us.” Baekhyun called the other boys’ names for food which was followed by loud thumping noises. The rest of the boys walked into the kitchen, immediately grabbing the pizza from the box.

It felt weird being there with some of your old friend, rekindling a fire that you all once had, adding some new members to group. It didn’t feel weird being there with Jongin even after that awkward patch in your life. You didn’t know if you were going to regret your decision in letting Jongin back in. He had this way of being uncertain with just about anything. One minute, he was your best friend, the next he was your lover, and then out of nowhere he was nothing but a memory. He made life seem so much more interesting, having his own of making you wonder.

“Your phone is ringing,” Baekhyun pointed out as you stared off into space, not really paying attention to what was going on around you. “It’s rang twice now.” You snapped your attention back into reality, looking down at your phone seeing that it was BamBam.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath. You took your phone in your hand and got up from the table, wondering off into the other room. You swiped your finger shakily across your screen, lifting the phone to your ear.

“How’s your day with Jongin going?” you heard his smirk through the phone, causing you to roll your eyes.

“What is it that you want BamBam? It’s my day off.”

“I just wanted to check up on you. How’s your day off? What did you do today?”

“I’m hanging up,” you said, trying your best to shake off the unnecessary nerves you felt when you saw his name flash on your phone screen.

“No wait,” he stopped you. The line went silent until BamBam finally let out a deep sigh before talking again. “Please be careful with Jongin. There’s a deeper reason why Jinyoung hates him.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, curiosity taking over your mind.

“He’s just-” your call was cut short due to your phone dying on you. You let out an irritated curse, shoving your phone back into your pocket. You felt that wave of insecurity overtake your thoughts and body as you walked back into the quiet kitchen. It was obvious the rest of the boys heard what you were saying in the other room after you stormed out. Chanyeol cleared his throat before bringing up a different topic, trying to take the attention away from you.

“Hey Jongin,” you said quietly, grabbing his attention. “I think I should get home. I have to work early tomorrow and it’s getting late.” He wiped his mouth, nodding his head as he got to his feet. “It was good to meet you all.”

“Come back soon!” You heard Baekhyun call after you. “I really like her. She’s cool.” You followed Jongin out to his car, holding your coat in your hands as you sat in the passenger seat of his new Audi.

The car ride was quiet. It felt awkward sitting there in silence, heat blasting against your face. You hated this feeling and it seemed to be visiting you more often than usual.

Jongin pulled into the small parking garage of your apartment, putting his car in park. You didn’t say anything, you just sat there for a few seconds before Jongin finally broke the silence. “Thank you. For today.” You looked over at him a gave him a shy smile.

“Thank you,” you replied. “It was nice being with old friends.” Jongin followed you out of the garage and up the steps to your place, only coming up to a familiar person standing at your door. “Jinyoung?”

“What have I said Jongin?” Jinyoung ignored you, looking Jongin dead in the eye. “I told you to stay away from her.”

“Why the fuck do you care so much about who Y/n talks to?” Jongin cursed.

“Don’t play dumb with me man. Have you even told her how bad you screwed over every other girl you’ve talked to?”

“What is he talking about?” You looked up at Jongin who was still glaring over in Jinyoung’s direction.

“He’s a fucking player Y/n. Doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself and his reputation. Always been like that.” You felt your heart race as those words left Jinyoung’s mouth.

“Let her decide what she wants,” Jongin finally replied. “She’s an adult who can make her own decisions.”

You felt the world around you grow smaller and smaller as you felt eyes on you. You hated any sort of negative attention towards yourself and it made everything around you feel tight and claustrophobic. Jinyoung desperately tried to get you to look in his direction which wasn’t happening. You kept your eyes glued on the mat that met your front door, it seeming like the most interesting object in the room.

“I guess I’ll just let you figure this one out on your own then,” Jinyoung growled, pushing his way past you and Jongin. You felt lightheaded as those words struck you right in the back. You had no reason not to trust Jinyoung and his words but then again you knew deep down, you weren’t going to listen.

You turned around, looking at Jongin. “I’m sorry that happened-” You were quick to cut him off, pulling his head down to your level and pressing your lips against his. You didn’t know what had come over you or why you had the sudden urge to attack him like that but you did and Jongin complied, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. That electric feeling you once felt a long time ago, sparked back up as you moved your lips in motion with his. It was a familiar feeling you had grown custom to whenever you were around Jongin.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, both trying to catch your breath. He smiled which caused you to mimic his actions. He pulled away, walking backwards while still looking at you, his radiating smile shining bright. “I’ll see you later.” He shot you a wink before turning around and making his way down the steps, back to his car.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy inside, like a schoolgirl. Your heart was racing as you struggled to unlock your front door, jingling your keys in your hands. Once you got the door open, you quickly shut it, resting your body against the frame. You tried to hold in your giddy laughs but couldn’t. You felt on fire, your body dripping in excitement. You brought your fingers up to your lips, feeling the lingering touch of Jongin’s lips against yours.

Although you were confused as to what had happened, you couldn’t be brought back down from cloud nine. Everything felt surreal at this point. You couldn’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality and surprisingly, you were okay with it. Things were uncertain which caused you to feel a rush of excitement as to what was going to happen next.

The only thing you knew is that uncertainty was an inviting hand and you were grasping on for dear life.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

War Ficlet Series Part II (Part I) (Part III) (Part IV)

Draco was writing a proposal for the new Minister for Magic, the fourth one in three years, when the owl arrived. At first, he thought it was just one of many inquiries he’d received from Nott Sr. regarding his son’s place in the ranks, but when he saw his name scrawled across the top his heart stalled. He’d recognized the handwriting anywhere.

Draco,

I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been so long since I’ve written you, and for that I’m sorry, but I’m sure you are very much aware of the dangers that come with our correspondence so I hope you don’t begrudge me for it.  I didn’t want to jeopardize your position and I couldn’t afford my location being exposed if the letters fell into the wrong hands. I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t contact you until this whole mess was over, but I have no other choice. I’ve run out of options and I need your help. I know it’s rather unfair of me to ask anything of you, after all, I turned down your offers in the past, but I am in a desperate situation. If this letter reaches you, and you can find it in your heart to forgive me, please meet me in the back room of the place that used to be Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes at 10 o’clock in the evening on the fourth of March. I can’t disclose any more information than this. The rest will have to wait until our meeting. I truly hope to see you there. 

H.G.

He stared at the parchment and reread it until all the letters blurred together. There were no traces of enchantments, curses, or spells on the letter itself so he knew he could trust what it said.

It had just been so long since he’d heard from her. Sometimes he’d wonder if she was still alive, but then he’d remember that if she were dead The Dark Lord would most likely be holding a celebration revel in her honor. But this was the absolute and undeniable proof that she was alive. She was alive and she needed his help.

***

He showed up to their meeting place two days later, and twenty minutes early. The blonde had tried to go about his business like usual and he mostly succeeded, but he hadn’t been able to curb the nervous energy inside of him. He’d have thought his feelings for her would have waned, but obviously, that wasn’t the case. As soon as that letter dropped into his lap all the thoughts and feelings he’d ever had for the woman flooded back.

Despite their history, meeting with her still posed a risk, he knew that. It could possibly be a ploy to get him alone, allowing him to be ambushed. but he highly doubted that. He was more worried about being tailed on his end. He’d been extremely thorough in covering his tracks and making sure no one knew what he was doing tonight. He couldn’t afford to get caught fraternizing with the enemy, not when he finally had a foot in the Inner Circle.

When the sound of a back door alerted him to another presence, he turned around and stood perfectly still, wand at the ready just in case he’d fucked up and had been followed. There was a soft click and then the shuffling of feet on the floor. His heart raced in anticipation. This was it. He was going to see her for the first time in years.

When the witch finally rounded the corner, wand also raised and as cautious as a mouse, he had to stop himself from rushing forward and taking her into his arms. She looked so….small…and tired, so unlike the vibrant Hermione of the past. The woman in front of him wasn’t the shining book lover, the spirited fighter and spellcaster he’d come to know and love, this woman was war torn and defeated.

Her hair was shorter than he’d ever seen it, her curls tangling just below her ears, and her cheeks were a bit sunken in as if she was half starved. Which….she probably was. The very thought of her hiding somewhere cold and starving made his heart twist uncomfortably.

“Hermione?” He winced at how gravelly his voice sounded.

She gave him a tiny forced smile. “Hello, Draco.”

He pocketed his wand and raked his eyes back over her body, cataloging how thin she was. “I’d ask how you’ve been, but it seems that it would be incredibly pointless.”

“The same could be said about you.” She replied simply.

He knew she would have been keeping tabs on him. She was one of the very very few that knew where his true allegiance lied, so she would know most of the things he’d been doing. The sometimes despicable things he’d been doing in the best interest of this long con. It still made him feel dirty when he thought about it too long.

“So, what’s this about, Granger? Your note indicated that you seemed to be in some trouble.”

“It’s something like that, yes. I just….” She paused and bit her lip, something she always did when she was thinking about what to say. “This is extremely hard to ask. We…we are estranged,”  When he opened his mouth to protest she threw up her hand to stop him. “And that is my fault. You tried….you tried to help and I didn't….I ignored your worries and spit on our relationship and….I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t do that.” He said, frowning down at her. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

She gave him an incredulous look but didn’t respond to his statement. “This is a big request, Draco. One you may not be able to, or even want to, fulfill, but I’m desperate.” She closed her eyes tightly and breathed through her nose. “I’m so desperate.”

“What is it?” He hated how eager he sounded but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to help this woman. He had loved this woman and wanted to just reach out to her and tell her he would take care of everything. His fingers twitched uncertainly; he had not been within touching distance to her since that last day. “I will do whatever I can.”

She regarded him with an expression somewhere between hopeful and heedful. “Wait here.”

He did as she asked and watched her walk out of the room. A moment later she was back, but he was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone. She held the hand of a small child. He couldn’t see them clearly because of the, most likely Weasley made, knitted hood with bear ears concealing their head, but something strange settled in his gut.

“This is my daughter Rhea.” She told him quietly.

Eyes widened. “Your…daughter…” A spike of jealousy ran through him at the admittance, but he quickly schooled his features, not wanting to give himself away. Of course, she’d have moved on. It had been years.

The witch nodded. “She’s the reason why I’m here. I’m sure you know the state of things in the city, in the slums. It’s worse for those of us in the resistance and I can’t just wait around for something bad to happen to her….or me when I'm with her…” She patted the child’s shoulder. “So, I swallowed my pride and came to you. You’re the only one that can help her.”

Confused, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Me? How am I the only one that can help? What is it, exactly, that you want me to do? Smuggle her out of London? I can’t say it would be easy but it is possible.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, I don’t want you to smuggle her out, at least not at this time. There’s no one outside of the city that could take her yet and I honestly don’t trust she’d be any safer out there than by my side.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion.“Then I really don’t know what we’re doing here.”

Again she bit her lip. “I was hoping you would take her. You’re the only one I could trust to do it. Just take her with you and protect her. Watch over her. Eventually, take her to France, make her your heir, or whatever it is you have to do to keep her safe.”

“What?” The request was even stranger than he’d first assumed and it left him blinking with his mouth hanging open, all pretense of calm completely gone. “Have you gone barmy? I can’t…it would be one thing to sneak her out but..to do that?  I haven’t the foggiest clue what to do with children and don’t you think it will seem incredibly suspicious if I just show up with a child? Besides, why in Salazar’s name would I even want take your daughter into my home, risk everything, and pass her off as mine?”

Hermione sighed in that way of hers that always made him feel like he was being scolded, and pulled off the girl's dark hat, causing a cascade of curly blonde hair to tumble out of it. “Because she is yours.”

His world stopped for a moment as he stared down at the little girl. He’d been so focused on Hermione that he hadn’t taken a second glance at the child. She looked to be around four years old which would definitely line up and when he met her eyes it was like he was staring at his mother. She had sharp features that were associated with his family too and the only thing that looked like the woman behind her was her curls, her nose, and her mouth, which was now turned downward in a frown.

The little girl, no Rhea, he chastised himself, did not make a noise as she regarded him suspiciously.  “She’s…” he swallowed, “mine?”

“Yes, Draco, she’s yours. And I realize how confused and angry you might be at me for hiding it from you, but we really don’t have the luxury of time to have a good row about it right now.”

The urgency in her voice reminded him that she needed his cooperation and help. He had no interest in the “why’s” before, but now? She needed him to protect her ch-…to protect their child and he needed to know why. “What happened, Hermione?” He asked, taking a tentative step forward. “Why come to me now?”

Her frail looking hands gripped the girl’s shoulder. “That's….people are being snatched off the street. People not in the resistance. Harry’s sources in the city have been concerned. Children have been disappearing too, at a rapid rate. We’re scared of what that means.”

Draco frowned. As far as he knew nothing like that had been sanctioned, at least not in an official sense. He knew there were plenty of things that happened under shady circumstances but he couldn’t keep track of them all. He should look into that.

“Mummy?” The soft, fairy-like voice nearly startled him as it filled the silence. She’d been quiet this whole time. “What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He watched, mesmerized, as Hermione dropped down in front of her daughter and ran her fingers through her curly hair. “Grown up stuff, baby. You remember mummy telling you that we were leaving Uncle Harry’s?”  The girl nodded. “And that we were going to meet your daddy?” Blue eyes shot up from her mother’s face to stare at him, mouth parted in awe. Hermione nodded. “Yes, Rhea. That’s your daddy.”

Hearing the words out loud was jarring and he felt something inside him crack. He was a father. Honestly, The whole world could have crumbled beneath him in that moment and Draco wouldn’t have noticed.

[fireladybuckley]

Leonard’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Fandom: Star Trek AOS AU Pairing: Reader/Bones Prompt:“I can see you trying to hide that smile.” Word Count: 1689 Warnings: A couple of minor injuries (some blood), mostly fluff. Rating: PG Tags: @outside-the-government

The enterprise has docked for the week, and you and Leonard are assigned to cleaning the med bay and taking inventory of all of the supplies, while the crew who usually does those things are away for training.  The two of you spent the night together, so you’re both in pretty good moods this morning. Leonard’s good mood begins to wane pretty quickly, however.

“My god, I can’t believe they haven’t ordered more hypospray vials!” you hear him exclaim in annoyance from the other side of the room.  You look around from where you’re counting bandages and see him throw a cupboard door closed, looking irritated. “They didn’t order IV kits, either.  I’m gonna kill them.”

You bite back a laugh and abandon your task for now, going over to him and stroking his arm.

“I’m sure it was an accident,” you say soothingly.  “We have been pretty busy the last few weeks, afterall…”

“Still,” he says huffily, though you can tell your touch has calmed him a bit.  You smile, get up on your tiptoes and give him a quick kiss, which he returns, one of his hands settling on your side.  

“Get back to work now, Doctor,” you tell him teasingly as you pull away.  “There will time for kissing later…” He grunts at you in response, flashes you a quick smile and goes back to what he was doing.   You return to your own task too, chuckling to yourself.   Less than five minutes later, you hear a crash and a yelp of pain from Leonard, and you drop the tricorder you were checking.  

You rush over to the other side of the med bay to find Leonard hopping on the spot, then leaning over and clutching his foot.   A heavy bin of supplies sits on its side nearby, and you guess that it came dislodged from somewhere and smashed directly into his toes.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” you ask, rushing forward.  You make him sit down and carefully take off his shoe and sock, ignoring his angry mutters and protests against checking him out.  His toes are bruised, but not broken, and you kiss your fingers before gently touching them to his foot.   “You’ll survive,” you tell him, smiling up at him.  He sighs, and as you stand he puts his sock and shoe back on.

“Damn crew put the kits away wrong,” he grumbles, heaving the fallen kit back onto the stack and securing it properly.  “I shifted one and another just toppled off.”

“I’m sure this was just an accident too, the maintenance crew is usually great at their jobs,” you remind him gently, and he snorts, but shrugs and nods after he thinks on what you said for a moment.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be having a word with ‘em when they get back,” he grumbles, and you bite back a laugh again at the grumpy look on his face.   “I can see you trying to hide that smile,” he tells you grumpily, and you can’t stop yourself from actually smiling.  He seems to soften slightly and sighs.  You pat his arm, make sure he’s okay with his task and go back to yours, continuing to check the tricorders to make sure they are all functioning properly.

Ten minutes pass without incident. You move on to checking all the exam lights on your side of the room, and are just about to replace a dying bulb when you hear a hiss and look up to see Leonard clutching his forearm, looking livid.

You sigh ruefully, setting down the bulb you were holding and hurrying over to him.  He looks ready to spit but you can see pain in his eyes and you look down to see some blood leaking out from under his hand.  

“What happened?” you ask, quickly snapping on a pair of gloves and forcing him to remove his hand, once again ignoring his protests.  You see a long cut on the side of his arm, blood dripping down his skin.   You grab some gauze and saline solution and begin cleaning his arm and wound while he splutters on about someone leaving something sharp out that he’d sliced himself on.  You’re only half listening now, focused on treating him, and in no time you’ve expertly wrapped the wound in fresh gauze and cleaned his arm and hand of all traces of blood.  

“Thanks,” he says grudgingly, examining your work.  “Almost as good as I would’ve done.”   You roll your eyes as you drop your gloves and the bloodied gauze into a biohazard container and return to your side of the med bay for the third time, shaking your head.

Twenty minutes pass.  You’re starting to think that maybe you will be able to finish a little earlier than expected and maybe grab some food, but once again you’re wrong.  A metallic clanging noise sounds around the room and you look up in time to see Leonard clap a hand to his forehead, an exam light wobbling from the impact his head had clearly just made with it.   It’s all you can do to not burst into laughter and you bite your lip as you listen to him swear, trying to decide what to do.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” you say, going over to him and leading him away from the bed with the offending exam light, your voice firm but sympathetic.  “You’re clearly cursed and need to go back to bed.”   He protests, saying that he needs to get this done, but you put your hand up to his mouth, shushing him.  He looks angry but then sighs and his face softens as you look at him with a very clear stubborn expression and he realizes he won’t win.

“Go get some food, and go back to Earth, and go relax in your room,” you say.  “That’s an order.”  He looks surprised and then laughs unexpectedly, shaking his head at your gall. He outranks you, but clearly he’s not angry that you are trying to boss him around.   “Alright, alright,” he grouses, a hint of amusement still dancing in his eyes, breaking through the grumpiness.   “Will you come see me after?”

“Of course,” you say, smiling.  “Keep the bed warm for me?”

“Obviously,” he says, his voice still grumpy, but he smiles slightly at you.  “I’ll get enough food for you, too.  Come straight to my quarters afterwards,” he pauses, then adds, “that’s an order.”  He winks at you, and you grin at him.

“Yes sir!” you say automatically, saluting him.  He gives you another flicker of a smile and then storms out of the med bay.  You can see by the way he’s walking that he’s still grumpy, but you know that he’s been soothed by your actions and the promise of future company.   You go back to your task, finish quickly, and then complete the rest of Leonard’s tasks.  There isn’t much left to do, as he was nearly done as well, and you’re finished within an hour.  The med bay neatly organized, you turn off all the lights and catch a shuttle back to the mainland, dozing in your seat on the trip.  It’s been a long time since you were back on Earth and you are looking forward to just tucking in with Leonard and relaxing.

A few hours have passed by the time you get to Leonard’s quarters.   You knock, but get no answer. Frowning, you fish around in your pack for the spare keycard he had made for you, and you open the door.   You enter the room and close the door, looking around.   A plate of food, clearly meant for you, is sitting out on the table, next to a plate that has nothing but crumbs left, a fork and napkin neatly laid on top of it.  

Leonard is lying on his bed, a book splayed open across his chest, his head lolled to the side, fast asleep. You smile as affection for him washes over you and put your bag down quietly so as not to disturb him.   You go into the bathroom and quickly wash up, swapping your clothes for a tshirt and boxer shorts of his (you know he loves it when you wear his clothes), and head back into the main room.  He’s still fast asleep so you quickly eat as your stomach is snarling ferociously at you. A few minutes later, you go over and sit on the bed beside his sleeping form, looking down at him.  He seems so peaceful like this, his grumpy expression gone, replaced by a calm, unworried one.   He is snoring very softly, one hand on the book that had tipped over on his chest, the other arm splaying out beside him as though beckoning to you even in his sleep.

You carefully prise the book from his loose grip, making sure not to disturb him.  There’s a bookmark on the bedside table and you quickly toss it into the book at the page it was open to and put the book on the nightsand.  

Carefully, you get in bed next to him and curl up on your side, facing him, using his arm as a pillow.  He shifts slightly, and grunts as he wakes to find you lying there, blinking blearily at you. “Hi,” you whisper, and he smiles sleepily at you, twisting the arm under your head so his forearm wraps around your back.  

“Hi,” he says, his voice hoarse.   He makes to sit up, but you shake your head.  

“Just stay there.  I already ate, let’s just snuggle and sleep,” you say, and he nods, looking happy with the suggestion.  

“Alright,” he agrees, reaching for the blanket near his feet and pulling it up over you both.  You snuggle up close to his side, your hand on chest, his arm wrapped around you.  You stroke his chest gently where your hand lies and within a minute or two, he has fallen asleep again.  Smiling, you lean your head against his side and sigh happily, drifting off quickly as well, comfortable and content in his arms.

[fantasmagoricx]

I just woke up from one of the most terrifying dreams ive ever been in and i literally woke up crying and hyperventilating. TW sleazy teachers being sexual w students, needles/people getting pierced by needles Ok so the dream started out in my poetry class (a foreign classroom, more like the amphitheater sala A). We're screening a film and the teacher's talking abt poetry but it's like really hippie and edgy shit. The film is playing in the background but people are performing. There's enough light from the projection to see the people in the room. Sarai is with me. Things are getting kind of wild, kind of psychedelic. Some drugs are on the scene and just general weird activities that do not belong in a classroom. I start to feel uneasy. People start taking some of their clothes off casually. This is fine. I am not bothered by this. Panic sets in when the teacher engages two really pale girls and is talking to them in a very sleazy self interested way. The girls are shirtless. He somehow convinces them to let him take "aesthetic" photos of them. They lie on the ground, tangled together in sensual poses but juxtaposing the very feminine (them) with the very masculine (him). It's scary because they're all vaguely vicious, aggressive, and domineering photos. More about the stark difference than anything else. He is clearly predatory. Despite my alarm, Sarai and I stay until the end of the session. It is very late at night. We must climb many stairs in pitch black. This is terrifying to us both. A general fear of men permeates this dream. I assure her that our classmates are just up ahead (they're visible), so i pull her close (practically under my arm) and we climb the stairs. We do not get harmed, but it becomes too black to see anything. The only reason i know there's a person with me is bc sarai is still huddled w me. Sarai becomes Alex. I realize she has left my clipboard and my book somewhere. I had handed them to her in class. I am inordinately angry at her. I am spitting loud and violent insults while hurling things from my arms (heavy books/notebooks/i even sling my bookbag off my shoulder). We are at this outdoor food stand/picnic area. It is still dark night. Some of the mildly drugged people from the class are still there. The book and the clipboard are supremely important for some reason. They are so important i have been provoked to physical confrontation. I am also, in a way, acting out of extreme fear. That clipboard cannot be lost. One of the people at the picnic area has rooted through my bag without my noticing and has found one of my needles. In the dream, the needle is very long. He begins to run around with the needle, chasing people. I am desperate to get the needle back because i need my medicine. He begins to chase me. I am caught and he pierces the veins of my arm. This is after he has wiped the tip over germ infested areas of his body (his underarms, most notably, his crotch). He pushes an agonizing and burning amount of insulin in. I manage to push him away so hard he cracks his head against the concrete. There is so much blood. I stab him with the needle and give him a potentially lethal dose of insulin. I stand, bent in half, sobbing and clutching at my chest. The cries are hysterical (the kind that include screaming). I am terrified. I have just fought with my best friend in the ugliest way. My teacher has broken my trust. I am terrified of this boy that has chased me with a needle. I am terrified i very well may be terrified of needles from the experience. I just keep screaming and sobbing. I wake. I am hyperventilating and sobbing.