#oc: gas-sag

[nyaskitten]

Sorry for having autism it’ll happen again

(Click for quality or smth idfkkk)

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Lies and Alibis

Part 3

Previous

Nikolai/Plus Size F!OC

Can be read as an OC or reader! I don't use names, she's fat and has hair long enough to grab!

This chapter came out much longer than I anticipated, please let me know if you enjoy <3

Tags: 18+, shower sex, blowjobs, light dom/sub, light dirty talk, a brief glimpse at pleasure dom! nikolai, don't look at me, i edited the best I could.

banner by @/une-femme-de-lettres

Their escape had been nothing like the harrowing, yet graceful exits as seen on the big screen. They run for their lives. Nikolai’s hand gripping her arm firmly enough to bruise as he guides her behind cover close beside him. She knows better than to stray, and despite being scared beyond belief she follows the hand that guides her without question. Eyes peeled and safety off. 

It was going smoothly, until what had presumably been one guard turned into several, hidden away from view but very obviously alerted as Nikolai bashed the first man’s skull across a sleek marble pillar, leaving nothing but a bloody stamp and a loud enough echo to warrant gunfire in their direction. The sheer sound of it enough to deafen as concrete shattered into rubble and dust around them.

She stays behind him, keeping watch as Nikolai returns fire from around the corner in between shots. Eyes flickering to him with concern when he curses at the familiar click of an empty mag. He scrabbles for the extra tucked into his belt, eyes narrowing dangerously when she bat’s his hand away, shoving her own pistol into his hands and taking the other before shoving him back around. She makes quick work of plucking the extra mag from his belt herself, reloading it swiftly and presenting it to him when he turns again. Stars in his eyes, as he pulls it from her fingers.  She couldn't trust her own aim, not with her trembling hands, but she could help. Keeping a firm hand latched to his belt and tugging him to safety when he was too distracted to move himself. Feeling a bit of pride at being his partner rather than damsel, at least to an extent. 

There is a pause in shots, and in the quiet Nikolai snags her again, moving slow enough to match her pace, but keeping them low as they hit the door, ornately carved mahogany swinging open into the cold night air. They bolt, his hand in hers as they weave through vehicles in the oversized driveway, more gunfire piercing glass and metal in their wake. 

Nikolai rounds the passenger side of a slick black vehicle, yanking open the door, and hoisting her in with little preamble, dumping her in the seat and slamming the door behind her.  She scrambles to right herself, searching frantically for something, anything that could be beneficial. Her eyes falling to a set of keys with a dumb duck keychain placed graciously on the center floor mat.  She dives just in time, a stray bullet carving out a large cracked crater in the back glass behind her head. Miraculously it holds steady, her brain remaining safely in her skull. 

Bulletproof???

With no time to ponder, she shoves the keys into the ignition, twisting it hard as the engine comes to life around her. Right on time,  Nikolai appears on the other side, swinging into the driver's seat and shifting in one smooth movement. 

“Seatbelt.”  he barks, foot hitting the gas hard enough to sling them both back against the seats. She does as she’s told, fumbling with the polyester band until it clicks into place, bouncing around roughly as Nikolai yanks the sporty SUV off-road for a clear path out. 

A few more stray bullets ping off of the metal before the sound fades into the distance. With ringing ears and pounding heart, she cranes her neck to watch behind them. Greeted by nothing but the sight of trees whipping past them at a dangerous speed, Nik’s foot to the floor as they put distance between themselves and their enemies. 

They stay quiet for a while, and she sags into the seats as the adrenaline fades into exhaustion.  She doesn't bother asking where they’re going, at this point she reckons it doesn't matter, anywhere is better than where they were, and if the man wanted her dead he would have used her as a human shield amidst all the chaos. So she supposes she’s safe enough. 

Instead they sit in silence, blazing a trail down desolate russian highway while the career criminal she finds herself saddled with shoots a text message with his free hand. 

It’s not long before wilderness shifts into city lights, and a bit further still before they are pulling into an alley across from a plain looking deli. 

Nikolai waits for her to fumble her way out of the passenger seat while he roots through the trunk. She stands, bare foot and shivering as Nikolai drags a large briefcase towards himself, digging through the contents and reloading his handgun before slipping it back into his belt, adding another pistol for safe measure before he reaches back and procures a well worn brown bomber jacket. Wordlessly he closes the trunk, gesturing for her to turn as he helps her into the oversized garment. 

It’s perfect, surprisingly big enough to accommodate her size, and well worn, the leather soft and workable with her movements, with just enough weight to will the cool breeze off her skin. She tucks her hands into the sleeves, nosing at the collar as inconspicuous as she could, breathing in the warm spice of cologne and something she could only label as work. Like warm skin and metal, a musk that was pleasant, and unique to the wearer. 

He guides her across the street, hand on her lower back and head on swivel as he swings open the glass door, locking it behind them and swapping the sign in the window around to “closed” in one smooth movement. The young man on the other side of the counter takes one look at Nikolai before he’s rambling. Nervous russian falling from his lips as he bustles around the counter, seemingly bidding them adieu before yanking off his apron and disappearing behind the thick plastic curtains behind the counter, door slamming in the distance in a hasty exit. 

She watches quietly, tucked in her nice warm jacket as Nikolai makes a round through the place, checking corners and yanking the blinds down of the large windows that line the establishment. She waits patiently for the all clear before she moves.

“Is there a medical kit around here?” 

They both look like hammered hell, covered in dust and bruises. Blood still crusts her hair, and he's got quite the shiner over his left eye, along with a myriad of other cuts.

Nik blinks at her for a moment as he finishes up.

“Behind the counter, in the office.” he gestures, easing himself down onto cheap wooden seat of a dining booth. 

She nods, padding around the counter, quickly realizing that this too was a front for something.  A clean shotgun rests under the glass counter, just below the lunch meat and out a view, another handgun sits against the far counter, tucked neatly beside a napkin dispenser. She’s surprised the food itself is real, but she supposed gangster’s get hungry too. How cliche, she muses to herself. 

She silently notes the weapons, moving on to scan the small store room that doubled as a surveillance office, another pistol left lazily next to the computer.

They really shouldn't leave these laying around.

She could take it, make a run for it. As if she would get far on bare feet and skimpy satin dress in a foreign country.  No. She had gotten into this mess. The least she could do was make amends,  patch him up, and pray that would be enough to earn her another day. 

He would be disappointed if you ran, another voice reminds her. As if the man would be anything but mildly inconvenienced that his chubby captive got away. 

Was she even captive? He hadn't told her she couldn't leave, but he hadn't exactly given her a pass to skedaddle either. Maybe he liked having her around. Maybe as much as she liked being around him herself. She banishes the idea before the train cars of thoughts begin crashing into each other, quickly switching to pilfering through drawers instead, nearly squealing with excitement when she finds the blessed med kit. 

She emerges with her supplies, smiling to herself as she spots Nik, his head resting uncomfortably against the cool concrete wall, eyes closed as he rests. She approaches, calling his name softly before shaking his shoulder. He cracks an eye at her. 

“C'mon big guy, let me fix you up.”

He furrows his brows at her, an apprehensive look on his face, but she only lifts her own brow expectantly, making a grabby hand at him until he complies, easing himself up and toward the table she'd made her makeshift medical office.

She preps up, washing her hands thoroughly and slipping on latex gloves. She lays her supplies out with efficiency and crowds back into his space, gingerly, and perhaps unnecessarily nudging his knees apart to stand close.

He watches her curiously, heading craning to keep an eye on her face as she nears, instructing him wordlessly to tilt back with gentle fingers beneath his chin. 

She warns him quietly before cleaning his wounds, wiping away crusted blood from his cuts and bruises with a warm cloth and antiseptic. He reaches out, resting two big palms comfortably against her hips. Not groping, just resting, only moving one hand away slightly when she has to grab another item from the table beside them, replacing it easily when she shifts back. 

“Are you a doctor?”  

“Something like that.” she murmurs, pretending to be enraptured with the task at hand. 

He only hums, big brown eyes watching her idly as she works. 

“You're being very brave.” she teases, distracting him from both his thoughts and the sting of disinfectant that has his fingers twitching against her soft curves.

He huffs through his nose, closing his eyes as she pulls his face toward the light to get a better look. He lets her guide him with ease, seemingly relishing in the gentle hands directing him.

“Do I get something sweet at the end?” he ventures, cracking open his good eye to peer up at her.

She snorts, “Only if you behave, but you're awful handsy for a patient.”

“Needed something to squeeze” he pouts, squeezing her hips again for added effect. She has half a mind to flick his ear for being a shithead. 

She refrains, letting him close his eyes again, looking quite proud of himself when he adds, “and I can be very well behaved.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe” she drawls, tucking loose strands of dark hair behind his ear as she cleans his temple.

He does behave, mostly. Sitting still as stone as she applies a few stitches to the corner of his busted brow. The only sign of his discomfort is the dull ache of his fingers where they dig into the meat of her hips. A pain he massages away gently in silent apology when she's finished. 

He seems like a sweetheart, but this giant is anything from gentle based on what she'd seen. 

Yet, he holds her with a softness that makes her chest ache. His hand having been almost permanently affixed to her for a better part of the night. Not controlling, not in a way that made her want to gnaw her arm in escape. But protective, stern and sure in a way that had her following behind him regardless of the danger. Which in and of itself should be troublesome to her exhausted mind. She’s done enough thinking for one night. 

She's wrapping his knuckles when a door slams somewhere behind the restaurant. She stands quickly, scissors in hand, ready to protect her patient as a figure saunters from the back. 

Nikolai is quick to catch her, snagging her hand easily and unperturbed, slipping the scissors from her grasp as the stranger saunters into the restaurant.  His face is covered, a black neck gaiter pulled over his mouth, and black hat drawn down low over his features. The man is more lean than Nikolai, a hair shorter too, with strong arms under a plain black t shirt, handgun and blade strapped to either thigh. He only spares her a glance, as if her presence was nothing new or out of place. 

“Sebastian” Nikolai calls, his greeting ignored as the man before him launches directly into questions, voice low and calm and distinctly german. Her ears perk at the change. She knows german. She'd taken enough classes in undergrad to make conversation.

Only Nikolai must have noticed, because he slides his big stupid paws over her ears from behind. Mindful of her own bandages as his fingers drum pleasantly along her scalp, effectively drowning out any noise as the two men converse.  

She doesn’t bother fighting it. It’s probably for her own good anyway, but she does sigh loudly, crossing her arms in a show of displeasure. She wasn’t a snitch. Not that they knew that, but still. 

She should be terrified, for all she knows these two were discussing where to hide her corpse when they were done with it. Yet, she couldn’t even get herself to buy that one, nothing about Nikolai's demeanor towards her had suggested ill intent, and she doubted he’d let the man in front of her hurt her either. What a strange trust to have in a man you’ve just met. 

Lots of serial killers had charisma, her brain supplies helpfully. As if it mattered now. She was either going to die back there, die in the woods, or die here. She only hoped they'd at least make it quick. But despite her brain’s incessant worrying she couldn't bring herself to truly believe it. 

Instead she yawns, pulling her eyes away from the german in front of her and scanning the shop, taking in the outdated tile and old yellowed menu above the counter. She hadn't eaten since before the mansion incident, and she could feel the symptoms of low blood sugar beginning to buzz up her fingertips. 

Her eyes fall to the counter, stomach gurgling as she looks over the varying boxes of sweets behind the glass, plastic wrapped snack cakes and cookies that looked heavenly under the shitty fluorescent lighting. 

Nikolai lowers his hands once the conversation ends, keeping one palm along her shoulder while he fishes around in his pocket, passing his keys off to the masked man who simply nods to them as he slinks back outside. 

She barely notes the exchange, too busy crafting up Operation: Steal That Snack Cake, when his voice startles her, thick with amusement as he follows her line of sight. 

“Are you hungry?”

She’d meant to interrogate him, but her words are difficult, hunger making her fuzzy and borderline irritable, best to save the questions for later when she can think straight. She tilts her head back, trying to play it cool. 

“A little bit”

He only laughs, rounding the corner and  digging out one of the cakes in crinkly plastic before tossing it to her. She wastes no time tearing into it, and it's almost painful how good it is after a very long, no good night. It's something chocolatey and fluffy and delicious.

“Would you eat a sandwich?”

Fuck yeah. She nods again, murmuring out a soft ‘yes please’ between bites, cringing a bit on the inside about stuffing her face and still asking for more food, but he actually looks relieved. Pulling out a mountain of lunch meat, veggies, and condiments, assembling his own sandwich and looking to her for confirmation on what she’d like on hers. He even cuts it up and wraps it up nicely for her. Plopping the bag with both of their meals into her lap before heading toward the back.

“Beer?”

“You got tequila?”

He pauses, taken aback for a moment before his face splits into that pretty smile once again. 

“Da, I've got tequila,” he laughs warmly, lumbering behind the plastic curtains and reemerging with a chilled bottle of golden liquid. He tosses it into another bag, as well as the whole box of snack cakes as he passes, patting her hip gently as he nods toward another door. 

“This way, upstairs, much more comfy.” he explains, holding the door open for her as she scuttles after him. 

–

The above apartment is modest and clean, a large sectional sitting in the middle of the room, with a good sized coffee table and tv, the open floor plan allowing for a clear line of sight into the kitchen; a hallway veering off in between. The walls are suspiciously bare, and nothing but take out menus adorn the simple fridge. A large brown duffel sits in the corner. 

Not a bad hideout.

It’s not long before they’re both perched on the couch, legs sprawled, warm with liquor and munching away on the best god damn sandwich she’s had in her life while some trash tv plays in front of them. She can't understand what's being said, but she catches enough to give a sensible chuckle here and there. Perhaps more amused by the sheer absurdity of her current situation. 

Just a few hours ago, she had a champagne glass in her hand, followed by a handsome criminal, a gun to the face, and her first “self defense” kill. Her body hurts, and she feels so tired she could sleep on the couch just like this, but despite it all she’s calm, unreasonably calm. Comfortable, even.

She looks at the table. Hoagies, snack cakes and a bottle of tequila between them, before glancing at Nikolai, scruffy cheeks full of sandwich. He looks back sheepishly, eyes flickering between her and the table as well. His lips curling up slowly before they both break out into goofy giggles.

They laugh like that for a moment, bellies full and warm, settling back against each other with cheeks sore from smiling. 

“I’m sorry I fucked up your thing” she tells him in the quiet, her head resting against the mans bulky shoulder. She peers up at him to show the true remorse behind her eyes, his own expression soft yet indifferent.  

“It’s not ideal,” he shrugs, “shit happens.” 

“Will your boss be mad?” 

He snickers a bit to himself. “You don’t need to worry about him” he chides, pulling himself up out the cushions, stretching on stiff legs. 

“I’m going to rinse off. Be good.” he warns. 

Oh, but she had no intentions of doing that. She was warm and full with a dash of liquid courage, and despite the night's events she didn't forget why she had tucked herself against the bear of a man in the first place. He was gorgeous, even with a split lip and bruising eye, and if anything that made him more attractive. It’s too late to bite the words back as they fall from her mouth, sweet and playful. 

“You need help with that too?”

He pauses, turns towards her again, a brow raised in challenge as a predatory smile curls his lips.  

“Can you behave?” he asks condescendingly, mimicking her earlier accusation. 

Oh.

“Yes” she quips back pleasantly. An innocent tone that they both knew to be bullshit, her excited smile a mile wide as he beckons her to him. 

“Come along.” he chuckles, turning away as she scrambles after him. 

–

She’s too giddy as they slide into the small bathroom together, ogling his ass as Nikolai leans in, turning the water on and testing the temperature before peeking over his shoulder at her. Catching her in the act. 

“Are you going to bathe in that?” He eyes her up and down with mischief. 

Shit head. 

She lifts her chin a bit in pride, making a show of taking off her jewelry piece by piece,  shrugging his coat from her shoulders and hanging it with care before tugging her hair away from the zipper at her back. Turning to with a playfully lidded gaze. “Help me?”

He nods wordlessly, standing close enough that she can feel his breath against her temple. He bushes a few stray hairs away from her nape, curling a free hand against the handle of her hip.  Rough knuckles brushing against her skin, drawing a shiver from her as he tugs the zipper down nice and slow to the small of her back. 

He only scoots closer once his task is finished, dragging his knuckles back up the curve of her spine and down again as he noses behind her ear, pressing a slow kiss there that steals the air from her lungs. He hums against her skin there, pressing more slow kisses along her neck, hands sneaking up to push the straps of her dress down her shoulders. 

The fabric slips down easily, pooling around her ankles in a satin heap that he carefully tugs her out of, spinning her in his arms as he does. With his hands securely against her waist he leans back just a bit, his honey colored eyes raking over every inch of her with a look that could only be described as awe.

He wastes little time, catching her face between his palms and crashing his lips to hers. She meets him eagerly, nails dragging over his chest as he devours her with hungry kisses, groping and squeezing at every inch of her skin.  She yanks the buttons of his shirt open, hands eagerly sliding over his warm soft skin, giggling with delight as she’s met with the brush of soft hair beneath her palms. 

“Fucking, perfect man.” she pants, trying to catch her breath as Nikolai groans, a please sound rumbling from his lips as he goes for her throat, drenching her in sloppy kisses and love bites, his fingers dragging up to grope at her breasts, thumbs toying with her nipples as she gasps and squirms. She’s soaked.  Just from a few kisses and soft caresses, slick pooling and coating her thighs. Dripping onto the counter below. 

“We’re wasting the water” she huffs, trying and failing to push the shirt from his shoulders as he promptly ignores her, sliding his hands below the swell of her ass and lifting her with a soft grunt, plopping her on the cold porcelain sink, making her yelp. She’d be impressed with how managed to lift her if he hadn’t immediately sank lower, sucking a nipple into his mouth, tongue lapping and twisting around the pert skin before he swaps to the other. He moves back and forth, biting and pinching, suckling greedily until they ache between his teeth. She pushes at him, yanking at his shirt with a whine. Desperate to have him as bare as she is. He takes the hint, muscles flexing as he pulls the shirt off his shoulders and tosses it. Leaving him in nothing but a glimmering gold chain and well fitted slacks that had her brain short circuiting. 

Good lord, they build them different in Russia. 

He was a bulky thing, all well toned muscle under a soft layer of fat that added a delicious curve to his belly and tits. His skin covered in a layer of thick black hair that swirled and snaked its way over his chest and down his stomach, tapering off into a lovely trail that disappeared below his belt. 

It’s her that tugs this time, grabbing at that pretty little chain to pull his lips back to hers, whimpering softly as he nips her lip for her pushy behavior. She’s drunk on him, his smell, his taste, his growls and moans. She grinds against him, cunt soaking the hair below his navel as she desperately seeks friction. Friction that he slyly denies her, angling himself away just slightly. It’s another moment before she’s fussing, straining to whip the belt from his hips, and tug the fly down.  The angle too awkward for her to continue; she gives up, instead attempting to use her feet and ankles to push his pants down his hips in a way that has them both laughing. 

He pats her thigh, stepping away slightly with a chuckle against her lips before pushing his slacks and underwear down in one smooth movement, cocking bobbing in the air before her. 

And it’s just as perfect as the rest of him, thick and uncut, precome soaking his tip, glossy and pink. It makes her mouth water.  And she must be blinking like a cartoon coyote, hearts in her eyes, because he looks quite proud of himself, smiling smugly, eyes trained on her drooling pussy. 

“You need a taste Milaya?” he coos, reaching a hand to slide against the inside of her spread thighs, knuckle ghosting over the seam of her sex.  Holding her down as she bucks into the touch. “Come get it then.” 

The pile into the shower together, the hot spray making them both hiss. They hold each other desperately, a tangle of hands and searing kisses that leave both of their lips swollen. He lets the water soak them both before directing her out of the spray. 

She goes down nice and easy, soft hands sliding lovingly against his flanks as she sinks down, trailing kisses that has his stomach jumping beneath her lips. And she must look pretty on her knees, because he can’t stop smiling, pretty brown eyes warm and soft as he eases closer, twisting a free hand into her hair as he takes hold of his cock with the other, tapping it sweetly against her round cheek. 

“Open for me sweet girl, that’s it”, he coos, and her brain goes fuzzy at the praise, mouth parting obediently as he slips his head past her lips. She sinks closer, testing how far she can go, humming softly at the stretch, earning her a moan from the man above her, hand tugging gently at her hair as she hollows her cheeks and pulls off with a pop. She’d need to work her way up a bit before taking him fully, and she was determined to do it.  She gently bats his hand away, threading her fingers in his to rest against his hip as the other takes hold of his length, shifting slightly on her knees as she gets to work. 

She noses along his shaft, pressing slick kisses along his length. Running her tongue from base to tip before treating his drooling tip to more kitten licks, smearing the salty slick across her tongue before taking him again fully. Bobbing slowly as she works to swallow him down. She works up a good rhythm, gagging slightly as she pushes him to kiss the back of her throat, but she pauses, tears stinging her eyes as she forces herself to wait, daring to look up at him while she breathes through her nose. 

His eyes are blown, chest and neck flushed hot and pink. “So good for me.” he praises, thumb petting against her scalp. “Let me help you.” 

He pulls their fingers apart after a soft squeeze, placing her hands against his thighs to brace herself as he takes her face between his hands. He pulls back, smearing his slick across her lips before pushing back in,  working his hips in slow thrusts, cock sinking into the heat of her mouth over and over until she’s whimpering and moaning, tears staining her cheeks and desperate for more. He lets her breathe a moment before picking up speed, fucking her mouth in earnest. She’s lost in it. Skin burning and pussy aching desperately to be touched. She won’t touch, not until she’s earned it. Not until he’s pulsing against her tongue. 

She takes him, fingers digging into his thighs as he grunts and moans, holding her tenderly while he fucks her, pushing her as he sinks his cock down her throat, holding her steady while she gags and chokes, mascara and drool spilling down her cheeks and chin. He pulls out quickly praising and petting her, the words sinking into the cotton of her brain sweetly. 

“Almost done my love, look at you, being so good. Need you to breathe nice and deep for me, Milaya.” he purrs, petting her hair from her face,  and she does, sucking in a deep lung full. Pretty pink tongue on display as he sinks in deep once again, cock sliding down her throat again. He holds her steady as rocks into her with slow languid thrusts. Training her to take it before he picks up speed. 

He’s talking now, low and too quick for her to understand, though it sounds like praise, and that's enough for her to relax even more, granting him further access. He moans as he sinks in just a bit more. Obscene noises echo through the room as his hand curls through the wet strands at the base of her skull. His hips start to stutter and with a low growl he pushes her nose into the soft black curls of his base, spilling hot and heavy down throat.  His knees nearly buckling as she swallows around him greedily. 

He doesn’t let her go until she’s taken every last drop, pulling his cock from between her lips as she collapses against his thighs with choked gasp.  She’s all but gone, floating pleasantly as he hauls her up, licking into her mouth and  humming at the taste of himself against her tongue. She whimpers brokenly, the dull ache in between her legs tugging at her muddled brain insistently. 

“Nikolai.”  

“I know Zolotse, I didn’t forget about you.” he murmurs softly, peppering her face with kisses before turning her around, letting the warm water splash against her chest. 

He gropes at her, palming her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and squeezing at the soft rolls of her skin, gliding his hands down her thighs, thumbs brushing just shy of her sex that has another desperate whine falling from her. He follows the pattern a few more times, working her up thoroughly before sliding his fingers through her sodden folds. She lets out a small cry, rolling her hips against his fingers as he draws loose circles around her swollen clit. 

“Just needed someone to take care of you, didn't you Lisichka? My clever girl. Picked me out of a crowd didn't you?” he chuckles, sinking a thick digit inside, the glide so easy and hot that he sinks in another, splitting her open on his fingers, and grinding his palm against her bundle of nerves. She’s trembling already, pussy drenching his hand as he pumps into her wet heat. 

She grabs his wrist for purchase, rolling her hips into his palm, desperate little cries falling from her lips as he pinches and pulls at her already abused nipples. Gummy walls sucking his fingers in hungrily, pulsing in a warning of what's to come. 

He grips her throat, not hard enough to cut off air, just to guide her back, forcing her to look into his eyes as he fucks her stupid with only his hand. 

“Is that good? Did my cock down your throat make you this messy?” he coos down at her, brown eyes impossibly tender as he works into her. 

She can only nod, words lost in the dizzying haze of her mind. He doesn’t speak, only pulls his fingers out, striking her cunt with a wet slap that has her jerking in his grip. Not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to get her talking. She spits out a desperate yes, and he presses a satisfied kiss to her forehead, soothing her again with more sweet swirling circles against her clit. 

It’s too much, being surrounded by this man, his strong hand against her throat, calloused fingers curling into her over and over. She’s so close, the heat of her impending orgasm coiling tight in her belly. Fueled by honey brown eyes gazing intently into hers.

“That’s it, just like that, let me have it Zaya, yes” he hisses as she seizes against him. Body trembling harshly as her orgasm rips through her, pitiful broken cries falling from her as he holds her steady, slowing his ministrations to soft slow circles, working her clit continuously until she slams her thighs together, squirming to get away.

She paws weakly at his hand until he pulls away, wrapping his arms around her as he shifts her to slump against him.

The metal of his chain is cool against her temple as she rests against his chest. She holds him close, arms barely able to encircle all of his bulk as she rubs his back soothingly, pressing sweet little kisses to his chest, hair tickling her there.

Kisses he returns just as generously, pulling her up to steal more soft kisses from her lips, murmuring praise after praise in between. She smiles, warm and hazy at the man in her arms. 

“Thank you” she whispers dopily.

“Thank you.” he returns, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Going to clean us up, okay?”

She nods, letting him do so with little fanfare, scrubbing her hair, and running a soft wash cloth over her skin, careful with the tenderness between her legs before they’re both out into the swirling mist of the bathroom, standing patiently as he pats them both down with a fluffy towel. He wraps her in a bath sheet that actually covers her soft body, and he returns a moment later, helping her shimmy into a, oversized striped shirt and sweatpants that hug her hips a bit too snuggly for her liking. But they’re soft and smell like Nikolai. 

Not to mention he looks chuffed.

Of course he would, the dog. Fucking her senseless and putting her in his clothes. 

After they’re both dressed and re-bandaged, they sit together on the large sofa, warm and relaxed. Where he tucks her back into the nest of his side, his arm curled around her once more, thumbing lightly at the hills and valleys of her skin. 

She’s safe, protected under her blanket and nestled against Nikolai. Sleep sinking deep into her bones as another warm kiss is pressed to her hair. 

[college-girl199328]

The Ontario government is pumping an additional $37.8 million into the city of Ottawa's public transit coffers amid a budget crunch for OC Transpo.

“As more people return to public transit, our government is providing municipalities with the funding they need to accommodate growing ridership while ensuring they can continue to deliver safe and reliable transit service for people in their communities," Transportation Minister Caroline Mulroney said in a news release announcing the funds.

OC Transpo is still facing a budget crunch, largely due to sagging ridership since the COVID-19 pandemic began. The city's transit budget for this year includes a $39-million hole that it's counting on another order of government to fill.

The gas tax money is already accounted for in this year’s draft transit budget.

Funding for the gas tax program is determined by the number of liters of gasoline sold in the province during the previous year. The city usually receives between $34 million and $38 million per year through the program.

This year, the province is sending nearly $380 million to 107 municipalities for local transit, including $80 million in one-time extra funding to make up for lower gas sales.

The province says the funding can be used to extend service hours, buy transit vehicles, add routes, improve accessibility, or upgrade infrastructure.

The 2023 draft transit budget includes $47 million in "efficiencies," $42.7 million of which comes from a reduction in contributions to the capital reserve.

[malfoymanortings]

my heart is buried in Venice

SUMMARY: she would rather die for love than live for fear. it appears that falling for draco malfoy puts that to the test.

PAIRING: draco x oc

WARNINGS: smut and a bit of descriptive torture (crucio)

hello again! this is angsty. that’s all i will say, so now you’ve been warned. let me know if you enjoy it. its a bit of a longer one! bold/italics symbolize the beginning/ending of a flashback. hopefully it isn’t confusing! also, sorry the summary is shit, im so bad at writing them!

She thinks back to the first time she had seen Draco Malfoy. Not the first time they had met, immature beyond their current years, but the first time she had seen Draco.

The crying was unfamiliar to her, yet it brought stabbing pains to her chest. She hurried into the bathroom, expecting to find a scared first year. They always came to the bathrooms to cry, although they did normally avoid Moaning Myrtle. Still, with the current state of the world, she supposed nothing would be surprising at this point.

“It’s alright,” she stepped in cautiously, peering to see where the crying person was. “No one deserves to cry alone in the bathroom.”

With a thick, shaky sort of breath, the crying tapered off. She turned the corner to see a silver head of hair hunched over the sink, a boy with white sleeves rolled up on his arms. He wasn’t quick enough to yank the sleeves down, and she stopped short when she saw the unmistakable mark of Voldemort on his arm.

“Get out,” Draco Malfoy snarled, turning to half his face was visible to her. “Now.”

“I would hate to leave you alone like this,” she paused, holding her hands out in a sort of I come in peace way. “I may not be your preferred company, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

It was almost unnoticeable, but Draco softened. It was clear in the sag of his shoulders, the loosening of his grip on the sink. She held her breath, and walked further into the bathroom. 

“Or, I could offer out a distraction,” she leaned against the frame of the stall, her arms crossed on her chest. “I’ve also been known to ramble about nonsense more often than not.”

“And who exactly is it that said that?” Draco turned towards her, and sat on the floor. 

She smiled, and promptly sat down on the floor with her back against the frame. “Well, I’m quite good friends with Susan Bones…” and she launched into a tale of the time when she and Susan had successfully distracted Professor Sprout for half a lesson, by asking about the mixing of magical plants with other muggle plants of certain… properties. They had been beyond surprise when Professor Sprout was quite knowledgeable on the subject herself.

To her surprise, Draco had engaged a bit in the discussion, asking questions and humming and hawing here and there to show he had actually been listening. He had subtly wiped his face dry during the conversation, and she had pretended not to notice.

“I’m quite surprised to find you here, you know,” she said gently, after their shared laughter had come to a stop. “I’m sure you have a million other friends in your house that would talk with you, rather than a Hufflepuff.”

“I haven’t got any friends,” he scoffed harshly, his face once again that hard mask he wore in the halls. “None that really give a shit. Certainly none that would-” but he cut himself short, shaking his head and staring at his hands.

“None that would want to know the reason behind having the mark,” she guessed softly, raising her hands when he lifted his head with a snarl on his face. “If it bothered me terribly, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you. I would have already gone to Dumbledore or someone.”

“So why are you here?” his face was twisted again, into the hatred and despair that seemed foreign on his beautiful features. “Waiting for the right opportunity to strike? Waiting for me to spill my secrets, so you can go running off to tell?”

“No,” she shook her head, answering honestly. “I’m here, because someone was crying and needed a friend.”

Draco’s shoulders sagged again, and he rested his head on his knees. The gentle trembling of his shoulders were the only sign that he was crying again.

In a move that was boldly out of her character, she scooted across the floor so she was beside him. The gentle tensing of his body let her know that he noticed her movements. Slowly, and then in one rushing movement, she wrapped her arms around him.

He began to shove her off at first, but then he sagged once more, and rested his head on her shoulder. Again, he cried, and she murmured reassuring words as he did. 

A long time had passed before the embrace ended. Draco had stopped crying, and they had been sitting there in silence for a while. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked him quietly, when he pulled out of her arms.

He shook his head, his grey eyes looking at hers with a haunted gaze. “I can’t.”

It is those same grey eyes she stares at now. Not entirely grey, they have the most spectacular speckles of blue in them. A brilliant contrast to her honey brown ones.

“Is there any particular reason you enjoy the bathroom?” she asked Draco, setting her bag beside her as she sat on the floor next to him.

“I don’t enjoy the bathroom,” he muttered, his elbows resting on his knees. “It’s a filthy place.”

“So then why, when you disappear, do I always find you in the bathroom, either staring at the mirror or sitting on the floor?” she bumped his shoulder with her own, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” he turned his head to look down at her, his grey eyes dark.

 Well, not entirely grey. The longer she stared at them, the most beautiful flecks of blue popped out at her. As she stared -admired, although she wouldn’t admit that to him- the bags underneath paired with his spiderweb veins of tender yellow and blue haunted her.

“Perhaps,” she paused, her lips parting for a moment. “Does that bother you?”

“It should,” he surprised her with the raw honesty in his voice. He was normally much more reserved. “But it doesn’t. I like the thought of you thinking of me.”

“Well, I think of you quite often,” she admitted, a bit breathless at the admission. “When you weren’t at dinner, I knew where to find you.”

“The bathroom,” Draco scoffed, turning away to hide the redness spreading across his cheeks. She smiled gently, as she didn’t miss it. She noticed just about everything he did. “Who would have ever thought a Malfoy would declare the bathroom as their safe space.”

“Put a few pictures up, might make it a bit more homey,” she suggested, resting her head on his shoulder. “Although I would make sure they’re all modest, don’t want Myrtle to take any for her personal use.”

“Oh, come on now,” he gave a rare smile, reminiscent of the smirk he used to wear all the time. “Myrtle isn’t that bad.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wow, Draco, first the bathroom, now Myrtle? Clearly you’ve strayed from your noble path.”

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. The reaction from Draco was immediate, his mouth snapped shut with an audible snap, his jaw clenched, and his body went stiff. She lifted her head off his shoulder, apologies on her face, but he began speaking with an angry rush that startled her.

“I don’t think there’s anything noble left in me,” his hands were shaking now. “My life has become such a mockery of what I thought it would be, and there’s absolutely no way out. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I need to figure it out now before he- before he kills me.”

Time seemed to freeze after he spoke. He had never even hinted before, at anything like that. They danced around the subject of his dark mark, neither wanting to bring it up. But now, for Draco to so openly admit that he was being forced to do something, more than likely pertaining to Voldemort, well. It was a breakthrough in their relationship.

“You can tell me anything, Draco,” her voice was barely above a whisper, and yet, it sounded through the empty bathroom like a siren. “Please, don’t feel like you need to bottle this up.”

Tears leaked out of Draco’s eyes, and she tentatively wrapped her arms around him. This time, he held her back even tighter, and shifted so that she was in between his legs. He cradled the back of her head gently, pressing her to his chest, and he rested his head on top of hers. Her heart began racing, and his did the same. She knew this because his heartbeat was echoing in her ear from being pressed against his chest.

“I have to fix the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement,” he said the words quickly, in a rush. “To get the death eaters in the school. He.. he wants me to kill Dumbledore.”

“Oh, Draco,” her breath was shaky, and she closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

The bathroom seemed deathly silent after that. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, until Draco shattered it once more.

“I’ve thought of jumping off the astronomy tower,” he breathed out, so lightly she almost didn’t hear. “Ending it all. But I’m too much of a coward to go through with it.”

“No,” she said quickly, pulling back slightly so she could look at his eyes. “You can’t do that I can’t- I don’t want to lose you.” 

The quick admission slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and she wanted to swallow her words as fast as she said them. Draco shut his eyes, his cheeks glistening from the tears that had fallen. His jaw was clenched, a sure sign that he was upset. 

“You can’t have me,” Draco’s voice was firm. “I’m not good for you. You’ll only get hurt, if they know I care for you.”

“You care for me?” that seemed to be the only thing her mind would let her latch onto, and she marveled at the fact.

“You could be killed.” his voice was less firm now, and he opened his eyes, grey staring into brown.

“I could be killed regardless,” she pointed out, nearly breathless. “There’s a war going on, Draco. I could die tomorrow, I could leave for holiday or summer break, and be killed. I don’t want to exist in fear. I want to live what little time I may have left in love.”

The words seemed to hang between them, the air heavy. Draco’s eyes shut briefly, and his arms tightened around her before he opened them again. As his head bent towards her, she closed the gap, placing her hands on his cheeks. He flinched at the touch, but melted into her as their lips progressed together.

Her eyes flick down to his lips now, the feeling of them so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. Liquid trickles down her forehead, towards her cheek, but she doesn’t move a hand to brush it away.

“Don’t you dare fucking hurt her!” Draco shouted at Harry Potter, flashing a streak of purple towards the Gryffindor. He pushed her out of the way, and she skidded to the floor.

Harry fired another spell at Draco, exploding the toilet next to her. The porcelain rained down on her, and she raised her arms protectively as the shards cut her skin. Draco shot another spell at Harry, and the bin behind him exploded. 

She rose to her feet, nearly slipping on the water, trying to get her wand from her discarded robes on the floor behind Draco. Just as she had it in her hands, she turned, only to get hit with a leg locker curse from Harry. She fell, unable to brace herself, and knocked the side of her head on the sink, hot liquid spilling down her face as her head exploded in pain.

Draco turned to see her, and his face contorted in rage as he turned back to Harry. He cried, “Cruci-”

“SECTUMSEMPRA!” bellowed Harry, cutting off Draco’s unforgivable curse, waving his wand wildly. 

She watched in horror through blurry vision as blood spurted from Draco’s face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

“No,” she choked out, the leg locker curse wearing off. “No, no, no!”

Her head spinning wildly, she looked down horrified as Draco’s white hands scrabbled at his blood soaked chest. She was vaguely aware of Harry falling to his knees next to Draco, and without a second thought, she wound her fist back and punched him with as much strength as she could muster. 

“Fix him,” she screamed at Harry, who had a hand pressed to his nose. “Whatever you did, fix him now!”

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle had appeared out of the toilets, and she was now floating around the bathroom wildly. 

The door banged open, and Professor Snape burst into the room. She realized it was the only time she was happy to see the hook nosed man. He pushed Harry roughly aside, and drew his wand over the deep wounds Harry’s curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood eased, Snape wiped the residue from Draco’s face and repeated his spell. Now, the wounds seemed to be knitting.

She had his hand in her own, reaching up ever so often to wipe away the blood that kept coming from her head wound. When Snape had performed the counter curse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position. 

She stood up quickly, hearing Snape mutter to Draco. She steadied herself against the headrush she got from standing, a fresh wave of pain rolled through her head.

“Miss Cherrywood, are you able to accompany Draco to the nurse?” Snape eyed her, his face unreadable.

“Of course,” she quickly took Draco in her arms, steadying herself against the added weight. “What do I tell Madam Pomfrey?”

His gaze didn’t miss the way she looked at him, or he her. “Tell her exactly what happened. I am going to deal with Potter.”

She nodded, and hurried out of the bathroom as fast as she could. Draco was pale, much paler than she had ever seen him, which was saying something. He normally looked as white as their sheets. 

They made it to Madam Pomfrey, who immediately took Draco into her care. As she watched Madam Pomfrey, she told her exactly what happened. Harry had started it, for no good reason. She left out the part about Draco nearly using an unforgivable, and as she finished recounting the story, she fell over from the sudden wave that went through her head.

Nothing got passed Madam Pomfrey. She was instructed to sit on the bed next to Draco, and once Madam Pomfrey was satisfied with her work on the silver haired boy, she fixed up her would and gave her a potion for the concussion she surely endured.

“You alright, Birdie?” Draco’s eyes were shut, and his voice was weak as he spoke. 

“Don’t worry about me,” she slid off the bed, ignoring the instruction Pomfrey had given her before she left. “How are you?”

When her hand held his, he opened his eyes. He was so pale. She brushed his silver strands off his forehead gently, careful of the bottom half of his face that had been hit with that nasty curse. 

“I feel as though I should be dead,” Draco paused, his voice low. “For whatever reason, that thought now scares me.”

“What do you mean, love?” the pet name slipped out of her mouth, and she hoped he didn’t mind. She brushed a thumb over his hand, relishing in the soft skin.

“I mean,” he turned to look at her, his face open and earnest. It reminded her of the day he had told her everything. That seemed so long ago now. “I was scared I was going to die without ever telling you how I felt.”

Silence laid over them like a blanket. She stared at him, lips parted, not knowing what to say.

“Birdie, I love you,” Draco broke the silence, shutting his eyes once more. “I shouldn’t. But I do. What happened today with Potter is just a fraction, a mere glimpse, of what would happen to you if he knew my feelings for you.”

“I don’t care, Draco,” the words flew from her mouth, a smile gracing her lips. “I don’t care. I love you. I am in love with you. I would always choose to live in love instead of fear.”

Draco opened his eyes again, and reached a weak arm up to press his lips to hers. Their eyes shut as their lips moved in sync as they had done many times before.

“I meant what I said,” she says the words quietly, looking into those familiar grey eyes. “I will always choose to live in love rather than fear.” 

Laughter is heard around them, and she swallows her fear down hard. She vows to be true to her words, no matter the cost. 

“Tomorrow,” Draco says quietly, turning to look at her. “It happens tomorrow.”

She let out a shaky breath, turning away from his gaze to the night sky. She had known this was happening, since he told her he fixed the damn cabinet. There was nothing to do. She couldn’t stop it. She wouldn’t help him. She would be fighting against him, come tomorrow night.

“I love you.” the words fall from her lips in a shaky voice, tears slipping down her face.

“Darling,” Draco took her in his arms, cradling her head to his chest. She was reminded of their first hug when he did the same. “I love you more than I had ever thought possible.”

They kissed again, this time a different passion behind it. They both knew this was a goodbye, maybe forever. He would leave with the Death Eaters tomorrow, after he killed Dumbledore. He would have blood on his hands and would formally join the enemy. 

Their lips clashed and moved together, tongue touching teeth and lips touching skin. They grabbed at each other, daring to find where the other began and the other stopped. Gentle hands, harsh lips. It was a fight for love that wouldn’t matter in the end.

Draco laid her down on the cushy blanket they had been sitting on before, and paused. “Are you sure you want this, Birdie?” 

“I want you, Draco,” she stared up at him, trying her best to memorize his every feature. He was so angelic. How could he be put up to the task he was given? “Only you, Draco.”

He pressed kisses to her neck, deftly unbuttoning her blouse. It slid off her shoulders, and he unhooked her bra next. For a moment, he stopped, staring at her exposed breasts for the first time.

“So beautiful darling,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her skin. “All for me.”

“Always for you.” she moaned back, as he nipped and sucked at her soft breasts. 

His lips felt like fire against her skin, as he took a nipple in his mouth while his hand played with the other. She arched her back, wanting to be as close as possible to him. After a moment, she helped him slide his shirt off so she could touch his bare skin. Her nails dragged down his back as he sucked on her breasts, massaging the other with his hand. 

He began pressing kisses to her neck, while his hands slid her skirt and panties off her hips, leaving her bare underneath him. He did the same to his pants, leaving his boxers on. He glanced up at her once more, and when she nodded, pressed his lips to hers and cupped her heat.

He ran a finger up her slit, kissing her neck once more as she moaned at his touch. She gripped his shoulders as he began pushing one finger in and out, before adding another one. She moaned softly as Draco sucked on her neck, his fingers sliding in and out of her. He began to rub small circles on her clit with his thumb, and her eyes fluttered shut. 

“Draco,” she moaned out, pleasure coursing through her body as he kissed her breasts again.

“That’s it, darling,” he replied, pressing his lips to her once more before trailing back down to her neck. “Say my name.”

He pumped in and out of her faster, and she cursed as she said his name. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he hissed at the pain. He rubbed her clit faster, and she felt pressure building in her stomach. She moaned his name again, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. 

“You’re so beautiful darling,” he praised her. “All hot and wet for me. Only for me.”

He picked up the speed of his fingers pumping in and out, and she could feel herself becoming close to coming.

“Draco, I’m gonna-” a moan from her throat cut her off. 

“Yes Birdie, come on fingers,” he coaxed, his thumb again rubbing fast against her clit. “I want to taste you, love. Come all over my fingers.”

Moaning, her head tossed back, she came all over his fingers, grinding her hips onto them as she rode out her high. She caught her breath, and looked back at Draco, who placed his fingers in his mouth, sucking her juices off them.

“So sweet, darling,” he told her, his gaze heavy. “I didn’t expect anything else.”

He kissed her parted lips, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. She could feel his bulge pressing against her core, separated only by the thin fabric of his boxers, and she pulled away from him.

“Draco,” she gazed at him with lidded eyes. “I want you to make love to me.”

“Anything for you, darling.” Draco complied, slipping his boxers off and swishing his wand towards her stomach. She felt a slight tingle, and realized it was the contraceptive spell.

She glanced down at his hard cock, and swallowed hard as she realized how big it was. She watched as he lined himself up to her entrance, biting her lip.

His lips captured hers once more, before he pulled away to look at her for her consent once more. She nodded, and he pushed into her wet heat, groaning at how tight she was. She sucked in a harsh breath, her eyes watering. It was her first time, and the pressure was a lot to handle. 

Draco noticed, and he pressed kisses to her neck, her cheek, her lips, as he let her adjust to his size. “Darling, you feel incredible. So fucking tight.”

“Can you..” she bit her lip once more, subconsciously grinding her hips against him. 

He groaned at the feeling, and began slowly moving in and out of her. It hurt at first, but she slowly got used to the feeling, and pleasure began to take over. The feeling of him pushing in and out made her toes curl, and she moaned as he began to pick up the pace.

“You’re so wet for me,” Draco groaned, interlacing their fingers. “Feel so good, Birdie.”

“Draco,” she moaned, the sound of her name on his lips bringing pleasure to her. “Fuck, this feels so good.”

He brought one hand down to push her legs further apart, the motion making him hit deeper inside of her, effectively hitting her g-spot. His name fell from her lips in a string of moans, and he began to stroke into her faster.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into her ear, pressing sloppy kisses to her neck. “Good little Hufflepuff getting fucked by a Slytherin.”

Her lips were parted, and her eyes were screwed shut as he thrusted into her, her breasts bouncing from the force he fucked her with. She again let out a string of moans, his name falling with every other word. His thrusts began to get more sloppy, and his hand reached down to rub circles onto her clit as he thrusted in and out. She began to feel the pressure building up again, and her body writhed underneath him as the pleasure took over her. He groaned, and with a few more thrusts, she felt him shudder, and a sudden wetness filled her cunt. Euphoria washed over her as he did this, and she realized she had come for the second time that night. 

For a moment, Draco stayed inside of her, leaning down to press kisses to her neck once more before pulling out of her. He laid next to her on the blanket, and pulled her into his embrace.

“I love you,” he pressed his lips to her temple, his hand stroking her hair.

She looked up at him, their bare skin pressed to each other. “I love you too.”

The hopelessness of the situation hits her. There was nowhere to turn. They knew all about them now, but as she lets their memories wash over her for the final time, she smiles. She wouldn’t change a thing.

“Birdie, it isn’t safe for us to be together,” Draco murmured into her hair, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “They’ll hurt you.”

“I don’t care, Draco,” she looked up at him and smiled. “What more can they do to me? The Carrows Crucio me nearly once a week.”

“Because you can’t just let things be,” he responds angrily, moving away from her in frustration, his fingers gripping the railing for the astronomy tower. “You have to involve yourself.”

“I’m not going to let them use unforgivable curses on first years!” she yelled back, her voice echoing in the empty tower.

That paused both of them. She never yelled at him. He wasn’t even sure she could yell.

“Draco, I love you,” she began again, taking his hands in her own. “I love you so much. You have to understand that I can’t just let them tortue kids. If I have a chance to stand up to the Carrows, I will do that.”

“I know,” his shoulders sagged in defeat, and he sat down on the floor, his back against the railing. “I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. I wish I could protect you better.”

“If you did that, they would know about us,” she sat next to him, placing her head on their shoulder. “It would be so much worse for us.”

Draco nodded. They sat in silence for a while, her head on his shoulder, his fingers playing with her hair. Hogwarts was much different this year. Snape and the Carrows had taken over Hogwarts. The remaining members of the DA were still fighting against them, for what they believed in. Hoping each day Harry would come back, and everything would be okay again. 

Neville and Ginny had taken over the DA. She helped out a lot more than she had expected she would. She felt that, maybe, part of her was guilty because she was deeply in love with Draco, and he played a part in the downfall of the school.

But he had no choice. He was the boy who had no choice. And she knew that.

No one knew about them. The only person who probably did, was Harry Potter. And at this point, if he ever were to think of her or Draco, he probably thought she wouldn’t still be with him. But it didn’t matter. Harry had much bigger things to worry about then who Draco Malfoy fancied. 

“I want a nice little cabin in the woods,” Draco traced circles on her arm, his voice low. “Away from everyone. Away from everything. I want to grow our own garden. My mum always loved gardening. She has the most beautiful flower gardens, you would absolutely love it…” his voice trailed off, no doubt thinking of before. Before things got messy. Before life went south.

“What does the cabin look like, love?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at his angelic face. He smiles, placing a quick kiss to her forehead.

“It’s small, very modest,” he continued, looking at her face. “There’s a giant couch, soft as a cloud. Tons of blankets throughout, for when you complain it’s too cold even when it’s a beautiful summer day,” he pokes at her side, making her giggle. “A nice window with a desk in front of it. I’ll sit at the desk every day, and write. Bad, good, all of it. I’ll publish my own book, one day, about all the bullshit we’ve gone through.”

“The autobiography of Draco Malfoy.” she smiled, leaning further into him.

“Exactly,” Draco laughed, although there isn’t much humor. “My mother is the only one allowed over. She’ll want to help with the garden, but I’m not going to let her. I’ll be the one to do it. Hell, maybe I’ll even do it without magic. We’ll be hidden away in the trees, unable for anyone to find. There’ll be two bedrooms, one for us, of course, the largest one, and the other for…”

“For what, Draco?” she nudged him, wondering why he had trailed off.

Draco looked down at her, his hand grasping her chin. “For our children. Two, at least. No only child bullshit. I never want our children to be lonely.”

“You want kids with me?” she marveled at the fact, unaware that Draco would ever want kids, much less with her.

“Birdie,” he breathed, the smell of peppermint hitting her nostrils. “I want an entire lifetime with you.”

“Do it now, Draco!” Bellatrix shouts from behind her, her heels clacking as she strides forward. 

She feels the woman dig her nails into her neck, and she can’t stop the whimper of fear that escapes from her lips. Her eyes plead with Draco, honey brown meets grey blue. He’s a mess, his eyes wild with despair, his arm shaking as he holds his wand up to her.

“Birdie..” her name falls from his lips, and she cries as she hears the goodbye in it.

“Please, Draco,” she pleads, and she’s unsure why. She wanted to die bravely, not groveling at someone's feet. “I want a lifetime with you.”

“Filthy scum,” Bellatrix snaps, forcing her to her knees. “Do it, Draco.”

His hand is unsteady. His wand is shaking.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouts, her wand digging into her neck.

Her every nerve ending is on fire. She screams and she screams, her voice harsh. The words carved into her skin hadn't hurt this bad. Her head being slammed into the ground repeatedly hadn’t hurt this bad. She feels like every bone in her body is being broken, just heal and break once more. It’s like she’s been dipped into a vat of acid, and her skin is peeling off. 

She wishes for death.

The pain stops, but her skin twitches as her muscles remember the pain. She’s laying on the ground, moaning as tears slide down her cheeks. Her throat hurts so bad, and she wishes she could stop crying, but she can’t.

“Stand up, you pathetic bitch!” Bellatrix hoists her to her feet, again holding her by the back of her clothes. “Now, Draco!”

She blinks fast, clearing her vision to look at Draco. He looks so thin, so pale. The dark circles are back. Spiderweb veins of tender yellow blue are visible on his face. Yes he’s still so breathtakingly handsome as he once again holds his wand to her.

“Always for you,” the words slip out of her lips as she stares at the man she loves. “Only ever for you.”

“Shut up!” Bellatrix slaps her, and the pain barely registers from the amount she’s already been through. “I’m not asking you again, Draco.”

“Let her stand on her own,” Draco demands, his voice cracking. “I won’t kill her while you hold her.”

Bellatrix steps away then, a cackling laugh coming from her lips. Without the support of the wicked woman, she sways and nearly falls, but catches her balance just in time.

“I would rather die in love, than live in fear,” she says softly, under her breath, the words coming out funny as her jaw is still twitching from the cruciatus curse. “For you, I would die a thousand times over.”

She shuts her eyes then. She knows what’s coming. In some way, she always knew this was where they would end up. Perhaps not with him holding the wand to kill her, but with her dying because she wasn’t afraid to love him.

“Birdie,” Draco says in the voice that’s meant only for her, and she smiles, happy to hear it one more time. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Avada Kedavra!” 

There is a flash of green.

[babycracker]

morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) ~1.7k words mature (swearing, blood, minor violence)

suggested by and written for @kelseaaa, i hope you like it!! <3 it's only been like really roughly proofed so if you see some mistakes, no you don't lol

--

Tanner's felt this before; the whole world freezing around him like this. Everything fading away and going silent and slowing down until it's like the world has ended and he's the only person left.

The last time was when his world had ended, when he'd seen his sister on the ambulance stretcher, bloodied and torn up. Dead.

He wasn't sure he was capable of feeling enough for it to happen again, not until right now. He watches the Trapper pull the modified prod out of Morgan's side only to plunge it back into her shoulder as her knees buckle and she goes down.

The gas mask the Trapper's wearing suddenly makes sense when he hears glass smashing and a cloud of red mist filters through the air all around Morgan.

"No-" his voice catches in his throat, the word barely choking its way out of his mouth and he takes a step towards her as the Trapper pulls the prod out again.

She's fine. She's fine. Vampire healing and all, she's fine.

Only she's not fine, her hands landing heavily on the ground in front of her as she coughs and blood spills from her lips.

"No, no!" He finally gets his voice working, breaking into a run towards her but faltering when the Trapper spots him and bolts.

He hesitates, watching the man run off, his shoulders twitching subconsciously as the struggle to keep his wings hidden almost becomes too much.

He could catch him easily. Could catch him and do to him exactly what he's just done to Morgan. But slowly.

But she's hurt badly, he realises when he glances back over at her just as she falls to her side on the ground.

"Fuck," he mutters, casting one last fleeting glance towards the retreating form of the Trapper before shrugging his jacket off. "Fuck."

He balls the clothing up and holds it over his face as he advances through the red mist to get to Morgan, panic forcing him down onto his knees beside her when he sees her eyes closed and blood flowing freely from the wounds in her shoulder and side.

"Hey," he reaches out and shakes her, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Hey!" A little louder, he nudges her a little harder, but still no response.

He looks around, wincing against the red cloud beginning to sting his eyes and seeing the rest of Unit Bravo starting to get the upper hand against the Trappers.

He takes a deep breath and holds it, dropping his jacket and hoisting Morgan up in his arms. He's never wanted to hear her snap at him for coddling her as much as he does right now, but there's nothing. Her head lolls back against his arm, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth and running in a line down her cheek.

He exhales heavily once he's gotten them both out of the DMB cloud but doesn't stop for a breather, instead carrying her straight over to Lucas' beat up car and gently laying her in the back seat.

"Tanner!" He hears Farah yelling to him and spins around, but her eyes widen when she catches a glimpse of Morgan before he closes the door, and she gives him a slight nod before turning back towards the fight.

--

This hurts like a bitch.

It's all Morgan can think about when her eyes snap open before closing again just as quickly in response to the harsh lighting of what looks like a hospital room.

Her shoulder and ribs feel like they're on fire, her lungs feel full and heavy, her head is throbbing. What the hell had happened to her?

She groans, everything hurting that little bit more when everything starts to come back to her; the fight with the Trappers, the volt rod she received, the DMB.

She lifts a hand to her head, rubbing lightly at her temple when she hears movement beside her, and then Farah's voice, uncharacteristically quiet. "Just a sec, I'll get them to dull the lights."

"Okay, you should be good now," the familiar and comforting voice speaks again, and Morgan opens her eyes to see Farah perched on the end of her bed, the room now considerably darker.

"Too soon to talk about how shockingyou look?" Farah asks quietly, a small grin crossing her face when Morgan manages a slight smirk at her efforts.

"One might say you've probably been in a cloud of worry over my well-being."

Farah's eyes widen and she shakes her head. "Nah, this isn't right, that cloud did something to your brain, since when do you make puns?"

Morgan raises a middle finger at her before easing herself up into a sitting position and then leaning back against the headboard, her brow furrowing as she fights back a groan at the pain shooting through her from the movement.

Then, she sees something that she wouldn't have guessed she'd see if she were given unlimited tries.

Tanner. His tall frame sprawled uncomfortably on the armchair beside the bed. He's missing his jacket, his shirt is untucked and has patches of dried blood on it, his tie loosened and hanging crookedly around his neck. He's fast asleep, mouth hanging slightly open and snoring softly, the sound so familiar to Morgan that she hadn't even noticed it until now.

"What's he doing here?"

She doesn't miss the small smile that Farah doesn't even bother trying to hide as she replies. "He brought you here. Been telling anyone who tells him to leave to F off."

"How long have I been here?"

"Nearly two days, you were messed up pretty bad."

"He's been here the whole time?"

"The whole time."

She looks back over at Tanner with a frown and Farah pats her knee gently before getting to her feet. "I'll go let everyone know you're awake."

Morgan barely hears her go, the questions flooding her mind too loud for her to be able to focus on anything else. Why is he here? Why did he stay here? Why is he covered in blood? Why is he so pale and tired looking even while he's sleeping?

Why does she care?

He shifts a little in his sleep and she hears one of his joints crack loudly with the movement; apparently he's been asleep in that awkward position for a while. The sudden shock of pain wakes him up and he groans as he unfolds himself and gets to his feet, lifting his arms above him as he stretches out.

His eyes find hers as he drops his arms back down to his sides again and she can literally see his shoulders sag in relief as he mutters a barely audible "thank Christ."

"Welcome back, sunshine. Thought I'd lost you for a minute there." He grins, but his tone is more serious than the expression seems to be trying to convince her of.

He sits on the edge of her bed, reaching briefly for her hand before deciding against it and dropping his down onto the mattress beside it instead.

"You brought me here?"

"Yeah," he chuckles, "in Lucas' piece of shit car. Would've been quicker to fly you here and just stop for a breather every few minutes."

"Why'd you stay?"

He shrugs, studying her face carefully for a moment before answering quietly. "I had to make sure you were going to be okay."

They both fall silent for a long while until Tanner finally kicks his shoes off and nudges at her gently. "Move."

"Excuse me?"

"Move over."

"Why?" she asks uselessly, already slowly manoeuvring herself closer to the side of the bed.

"Because I haven't been able to get you in bed for days and this is my chance," he answers seriously, making her roll her eyes.

The familiar calm that she always feels with him washes over her the second he lays down beside her. He pushes her lightly to turn away from him, scooting closer and pressing himself up against her back, carefully sliding his arm around her above the wound left in her side by the volt and holding her firmly.

He kisses her shoulder lightly, just beside the wound in that before relaxing against her, his face nuzzling into the back of her neck with a soft sigh.

She really wants to complain. Who does he think he is, hovering around her for days as though she were some kind of invalid? Telling her to make room in her own hospital bed? Spooning her, for fuck’s sake.

But he makes the beeping of the hospital equipment in her room a little more bearable. Makes the scratchy sheets of the bed, the sterile hospital stench, even the pain of her slowly healing injuries, makes all of it easier to handle, and before she even realises how at ease he's put her, she's fallen back to sleep.

--

"Is Tanner still in there?" Adam asks Farah over his shoulder, and she nods.

“He was sleeping.”

“And you didn’t think to wake him?”

“You want him awake; you wake him up,” Farah replies with a small chuckle, the grin remaining on her face when Adam doesn’t reply.

She just about smacks into his back when he pushes the door to Morgan’s room open and stops in his tracks, staring into the room. She stands on her tiptoes to peer over his shoulder, letting out a tiny, excited squeak instead of the squeal she feels in her heart at what she sees.

Tanner and Morgan, spooning, asleep together in her bed. Adam lets out an almost disgusted sounding and impatient sigh before turning and brushing past Farah back out of the room.

“We will let her rest for now,” he mutters over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.

Farah grins at Nate, grabbing his arm and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Look how cute they are!”

“He and I don’t get along,” Nate pauses, peeking into the room and letting his lips curve into a soft smile. “but even I have to admit, that is impressive.”

“And sweet!” Farah insists, drawing a chuckle from him before he gently pulls her out of the room and lets the door close quietly behind them.

“Yes. Very sweet.”

--

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @homeformyheart @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @fhauvilles @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @winterkeys @agentnolastname @utterlyinevitable @masonscig @graysinblack

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Onsra- Chapter 30: Sticks and Stones and Those Three Words

banner by: @envity​ <3

pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader (also tae x ga-in oc & jimin x yuri oc)

genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama, horror

warnings for this chapter: uhm, language, a little blood and a bit of heartbreak sorry, also fluff

word count: 8.8k

Onsra: ML, Previous

Idk how I feel bout this one but let's get it.

____________________________________

“Y/n?”

“S-Seungwook?”

You’re staring at your old friend in shock as he drops the arm holding the gun to his side. “Y/n, you’re okay!” His eyes well up with tears of relief and a smile breaks out on his face. He steps forward as you climb to your feet, but Jungkook immediately pushes you behind him.

Seungwook’s eyes narrow as he scans Jungkook up and down, as if he’s just now noticing him. He shines the light at Jungkook, then his eyes widen, and he pulls his gun up, pointing it at his head.

“Get the fuck away from her, you monster.” He seethes, glaring at Jungkook.

“Seungwook! Seungwook, stop this. He’s not a monster.” You speak up, trying to move past Jungkook. But he won’t let you, he keeps an arm out to prevent you from getting any closer to the young man.

Jungkook scoffs, “Who the hell are you?”

Seungwook brings his gaze back to the vampire after glancing at you. “I’m y/n’s friend, who the fuck do you think you are?”

You feel Jungkook stiffen, but before he can answer, a loud crash is heard from outside the door. Gunshots sound and shouts follow, someone screaming to run. Seungwook looks towards the door, his face showing how torn he is, between going out to help or staying with you.

Jungkook reaches behind him and takes your hand, the next second, Seungwook seems to make a decision as he raises his gun again and shoots at Jungkook. You scream, falling to the ground after Jungkook shoves you out of the way. You grab your flashlight that’s still sitting on the ground and shine it towards the two now struggling. Jungkook twists Seungwook’s hand, making the gun drop to the floor as he screams in pain.

He punches Seungwook in the face and pins him against the wall, his eyes turning a deep shade of red as he glares at him. The boy just looks back at Jungkook defiantly, then he spits blood in his face from when Jungkook punched him.

The vampire surges forward, only stopping when you scream.

“Stop it! Don’t you dare bite him, Jungkook!” You stand up and rush over to him, pulling on his arms to get him to let go. Anger flows through him and he shoves you away, causing you to stumble from the force and fall on the ground, your flashlight rolling out of your hands.

A sharp pain flares up your tailbone when you hit the ground and you gasp. Jungkook finally seems to realize what he just did, his face dropping when he sees your face scrunching in pain. He doesn’t let go of Seungwook though, he just pins him to the wall harder as he watches you, needing to make sure you’re alright. When he sees you take your flashlight again, he speaks up, “Y/n, get out of here. Just run.”

Taehyung and Ga-In come running down the stairs at that moment and your best friend gasps when she sees who Jungkook has against the wall.

“Seungwook?”

“Ga-In.” Seungwook sends her a weak smile.

“Get out! All of you!” Jungkook hollers, which sets Tae in motion. He shoves Ga-In towards the door and grabs your arm, dragging you up off the floor.

“Jungkook, stop it. Both of you, stop!” You try to tell them, but Tae opens the door and shoves you out. You stumble but catch yourself, then you feel Ga-In drag you down the hall and out the front door, into the pouring rain.

~                ~                ~

“What did you do to her?” Seungwook hisses, grunting when Jungkook pushes him harder into the wall.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you leave y/n alone.” Jungkook growls angrily, and Seungwook just laughs bitterly, blood dripping from his nose.

“Don’t tell me you’ve brainwashed her into thinking you’re the good guys. You’re fucking disgusting. Have you told her everything you do? Have you told her your plans?” Jungkook squints at him and he chuckles again. “Didn’t think so. I swear, I’m going to kill you one day.”

“Not if I kill you first.” Jungkook glares at him and tries to keep his urge of sinking his teeth into the guy’s wrist under control. He closes his eyes and pictures you touching his arm gently to settle him. When he opens his eyes, his irises are back to the lighter shade.

He shoves Seungwook towards the staircase roughly, making the young man trip and fall, groaning at the pain in his limbs.

“Come near me or any of my friends again, you’ll regret it. Got it?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, he just stalks out of the stairwell and slams the door shut. It’s eerily quiet as Jungkook makes his way to the front, hoping everyone made it out okay.

Jungkook steps outside, the cold rain soaking him through immediately. The rain is so heavy that you can’t see two feet in front of you. He walks down the steps then flinches when a hand grabs his arm. Jimin is standing there, totally soaked with a serious look on his face.

“Come on, now!” He shouts, pulling Jungkook into the rain. The two of them run down the dirt road that’s turned into mud, slipping and sliding but never falling. Finally, Jungkook sees the blue van up ahead, parked on the side of the road and out of the way, and they run for it.

Hoseok opens the side door and Jimin and Jungkook jump in, slamming the door shut behind them as Seokjin steps on the gas and speeds down the road. Rain batters against the car as Jungkook looks around and sees everyone made it out, then he feels himself panic, whirling around to try and find you.

He sighs in relief when he sees you sitting in his usual seat, staring out the window. He has an overwhelming urge to just climb back there and hold you, the fear that something almost happened to you still raw in his mind.

You look at him when you feel him staring, then you send him a glare and look back out the window. Jungkook’s stomach drops at that and he bites his lip, wiping the rain from his forehead and looking out the front as his hands clench and unclench.

~             ~                ~

Seokjin takes a lot of detours and goes in a few circles on the way back to throw off anyone who might be following.

“What the hell happened?” Taehyung growls at no one in particular, he just wants answers, not caring who gives them.

Namjoon has his head in his hands as he mutters. “I don’t even know, it all happened so fast. Yoongi hyung and I were searching for stuff when we heard someone come in the front door. We were about to tell you guys, but we couldn’t get the chance to talk without being heard.”

Yoongi takes it from there, “At first it was only one vampire, so we thought we could take him out and then tell everyone we needed to get out of there. But then more and more came, there must have been at least twelve. We stayed hidden and waited for a chance to alert you guys. That’s when a group of Hunters came in and literally started shooting up the place. I think they followed them.”

Jin’s jaw is clenched as he grips the steering wheel, he’s no doubt fuming over the fact that he was right in the beginning to not go at all.

Hoseok speaks up quietly, “We all hid the second we heard someone walking around on the second level. When we made our way downstairs, thankfully we only encountered one vampire, but we caught him off guard. We didn’t even know there were Hunters until we made it to the ground level.” Tae fills everyone in on what happened on your end, for the most part.

You hear that he and Jungkook found Ga-In on the second level trying to get the door open to follow you. Tae stayed with her to bandage her up because she had twisted her ankle and got cut on the shards of glass on the floor. Jungkook immediately ran downstairs to find you.

Everyone asks you what happened, but you just stay quiet and keep looking out the window. Jungkook doesn’t say anything either, so they eventually stop asking.  

By the time you make it home, it’s dark out. The leader parks the car and turns it off, then he slumps back in his seat, his wet hair making a little water mark on the head rest.

The car is full of labored breathing and fidgeting, nobody saying a word.

“That was the stupidest fucking thing we’ve ever done.” Seokjin snaps after a minute.

You couldn’t agree more.

You guys are lucky that you all made it out, it could’ve ended a lot worse.

That thought makes your stomach turn in a sick way, so you push it away and just whisper a quick thanks that everyone is okay.

When everyone climbs out of the car, you come out last. Jungkook and Yoongi are standing outside waiting for you. Jungkook offers you his hand to step out of the car but you brush him off and take Yoongi’s hand instead.

The older vampire helps you climb out, then he shoots Jungkook a confused look. The youngest just looks crestfallen, his shoulders sagging as he watches you move past them and head inside after thanking Yoongi.

“What the hell did you do?” Yoongi asks, but Jungkook just glares at him and stomps inside.

You told Seokjin that you weren’t hungry, so you were just going to head to bed.

Now, you’re towel drying your hair as you sit on your big bed, after changing into your giant white shirt that still has a tear in it and a light pink stain on the chest from when Yuri smeared the blood on you all that time ago. Your hair is still piled up in the ‘braids’ that Jungkook put it in earlier, but the flowers have long since fallen out. Your tailbone is killing you and you’re almost questioning whether you fractured it when Jungkook shoved you, but there isn’t really any way to find out.

A soft knock on the door makes you internally groan. You know exactly who it is, and you’d rather see anyone but him right now. You ignore it and fold your towel before setting it on your dresser. Then you remember that you forgot to give Koko his second round of pellets and you mentally slap yourself.

Stupid! Urgh!

Your nose twitches in irritation as you stomp over to the door and open it, revealing a slightly surprised Jungkook.

“Y/n-“

You move past him and hurry towards the stairs, running down them and into the living room. Everyone else is eating dinner in the dining room, so you walk over to the mantel and drop a few of Koko’s pellets into the water.

“Goodnight, Koko.” You whisper to the little fish as he swims around lazily.

“Y/n? Oh, uh.” You turn to see Seokjin covering his eyes. “Y/n, you don’t have pants on.” He says with his hand still over his eyes.

Again??

You turn red and look down to see that your shirt comes down to your knees but it’s still obvious that you have no bottoms on. You really need to stop running out of your room so suddenly.

“S-sorry, Jin. I just-…I came to feed Koko.” Your voice fades and you see the eldest chuckle, “Alright, I just heard someone running down the stairs and came to make sure everything was okay. I’m leaving now, goodnight.” He turns, one hand over his eyes and the other helping him find his way back to the dining room.

You shake your head, furious at yourself for being so stupid, but you’re glad that Seokjin is so polite and unjudgmental, as humiliating as that was. You move to leave the living room but Jungkook walks in just at that moment.

“Can we-“

You move past him and make for the stairs, holding your shirt as far down as you can as you climb the steps when you hear him behind you.

You make it to your room and you’re about to shut the door when Jungkook grabs it before you can. You glower at him but let go and go to your bed to sit down. Jungkook walks in and shuts the door.

“Turn around and let me put my pants on.” You snap when you see him staring at you. Jungkook’s eyes widen and he gives you a little nod before turning around and waiting for you to tell him he can look.

You grab your sweatpants and pull them on, then you sit on the bed with a huff. “You can look now.” You mutter grumpily. Jungkook turns back around and slowly comes up to the bed, a look of uncertainty on his face.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask coldly. You don’t want to be mad at him, but the way he handled things tonight, by ignoring you and hurting you, makes you angry. Of course, he didn’t mean to hurt you, and you know that. But if he would just listen to you, it wouldn’t have happened.

“For everything. For not being with you and for not listening to you and for h-hurting you.” Jungkook’s gaze is locked on the floor.

“I’m not mad that you weren’t with me, Jungkook.”

He internally groans when you don’t use your nickname for him, knowing he messed up bad.

“I understand that the situation was completely uncalled for, and I don’t expect you to always be there to protect me. I was just as worried for you and the others as you were for me, Jungkook.” You don’t want him to think that all you need him for is protection, because that’s far from the truth.

Jungkook nods as you continue, “I also understand that you didn’t know who Seungwook was. I’m not mad at you for trying to protect me, but you didn’t even try to listen to me-”

“He shot at me!” Jungkook interrupts you angrily, the fact that you brought that guy up is pissing him off.

“I know!” You shout back. “And I was scared to death that he was going to hurt you! If he was here right now, I’d be angry with him too!”

“Oh, lucky for him he isn’t.” Jungkook scoffs, angering you further.

“Seriously Jungkook?! Can’t you even think for a minute why I would be upset?” You feel the tears coming, but you bottle them up.

“No! No, I can’t! He’s a fucking Hunter, y/n! He kills vampires, and I’m a vampire!! Do you even care about that??” Jungkook’s eyes are watering as he rants.

“You’re not a real vampire, Jungkook! All he must have seen are the real monsters, the ones killing people.” You seethe, all your horrible memories coming back. “The ones that murdered innocent humans for sport. I don’t know what he’s doing, and I do care about your safety, how dare you say otherwise.” A single tear slips out and you wipe it away angrily.

“I told you not to bite him because I care about you, Jungkook. He isn’t a bad guy, and I don’t want you to regret hurting another person. Why can’t you understand that? I’m trying to help you.”

Jungkook hesitates, your words slowly sinking in. But you defending Seungwook pisses him off too much for him to let it go. “If he’s such a good person, why don’t go and mess around with him then? Apparently, you’re done with me.”

You freeze at that. Jungkook insinuating that you’re some whore that plays around makes your blood boil and you glare at him fiercely. “Get out of my room.” You spit, disgust clear in your voice. After opening up to him and being so raw, your heart aches intensely.

His words finally sink into his brain as he realizes what he just said after he sees the hurt in your gaze. Jungkook steps closer, wanting to take it all back. “I- I didn’t me-“

“Yeah, you didn’t mean it. I get it.” You say, chuckling tearfully. “I get that even after everything we’ve been through, you think so lowly of me to say such disgusting things and then say you didn’t mean it. Why did you say it then? Get out of my room right now.”

Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat and backs away until he’s at your door.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, tears in his eyes.

“Sorry means more than just saying the words, Jungkook. Please get out.”

Jungkook nods and leaves your room, the click of the door echoes in your mind before you let the tears fall. They stream down your face, choking you as you stuff your face into your pillow and let yourself sob loudly.

You’re so angry and so hurt that you don’t even know what to do. Your heart is aching so bad that you feel like you might just be having a heart attack at this point. You hate how much you love him and remembering him say he loves you earlier makes the sting in your heart worse.

You wanted to say it back. You wanted to say it back and now it’s all ruined.

Seungwook was your friend for months, your only friend besides Ga-In, and you know he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He thinks he’s doing the right thing, but he doesn’t understand the truth about Jungkook. You didn’t get a chance to explain. All you wanted to do was make sure no one got hurt, but now Jungkook has misunderstood and thinks you don’t care about him.

Does he even love you?

Maybe he thinks he does, but it’s just because you’re the first person to treat him kindly after being bitten. That doesn’t mean he loves you. You know you love him, but after what he said, you’re thinking it’s all one-sided.

People say things when they’re angry. But it sounded like he meant it. And if he believes you were using him and you would go running to Seungwook at the first chance you got, then he knows nothing about you.

And how can he love someone he doesn’t know?

The thoughts swarming in your head are making it worse, the ache so deep that you just want to stab yourself in the heart to make it stop. Just make it stop.

You grab your pillow and stuff your face into it to drown out the sound, screaming as loud as you can.

~                  ~                  ~

After Jungkook closes your door, he goes to his room and shuts himself in.

Then he sits on the ground and leans his back against the bed. He pulls his legs up and hugs them, letting a few tears fall.

The guilt at what he said is making him sick. He just wants to go in there and tell you he really didn’t mean it and he has no idea why he said it. He was jealous and stupid, and he didn’t mean it.

He didn’t mean it.

“I- I’m s-sorry.” He chokes out and stuffs his head into his folded arms, beating himself mentally over his rash words.

Jungkook loves you so much that he doesn’t even know how to handle it. He’s never felt this way about someone, even before he was bitten. And now all of his emotions are confusing him enough anyway. He just wants to protect you and hold you forever, you’re so sweet and imperfectly beautiful that it makes his chest hurt when he looks at you.

And now he’s hurt you.

The one person he loves so much that he would do anything for.

Just because his jealousy and anger got the best of him.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

When he hears your muffled scream, full of anger and pure raw hurt, his chest aches and he sobs heavily into his knees, knowing he was the one to cause your pain.

~                  ~                     ~

Ga-In comes in an hour later. She quietly closes the door and walks over to the bed to see you curled up in the covers, half your face smooshed into your wet pillow while most of your hair is sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. You look at her blankly and she smiles at you sadly, then she climbs onto the bed and pulls you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you.

“What happened, girlie?” She whispers, holding you tight.

“He doesn’t love me, Innie. Not like I love him.” You whimper, then your best friend pulls away enough to get your hair our of your face. She sighs sadly, “Tell me everything.”

So, you do.

You tell her everything that happened after you two got separated up until your fight a little while ago, not leaving out a single thing. Ga-In listens quietly until you finish, then she muses.

“I was wondering what happened to Seungwook. I’m glad he’s okay.” You nod and she continues. “You said Jungkook said he loves you, so why would he say that if he doesn’t?”

You sniffle and wipe your nose, “I’m afraid he thinks he loves me because I was the first person to be nice to him. If he really thinks I would leave him for Seungwook, then he doubts my love for him, and he doesn’t know me at all. How can he love me if he doesn’t know me?”

Ga-In nods in understanding, “I see what you mean. But maybe he really didn’t mean what he said, he was obviously angry.”

“Has Tae gotten angry with you?”

“Well yeah, we’ve had our disagreements.”

“Has he ever said that to you? Accused you of not loving him and just messing with him?”

Ga-In looks thoughtful, then she sighs. “No, he hasn’t. But he also hasn’t been struggling as much with his emotions as Jungkook has for so long.”

You look at her curiously, wondering how she knows, and she squints at you. “You think I haven’t noticed? Taehyung told me how you asked about his heart, and how he had no idea where you got that idea. It’s Jungkook isn’t it?”

You don’t answer and her eyes fill with tears.

“Y/n, how can he be able to control his emotions when his heart doesn’t even beat? Even though, that doesn’t mean what he said didn’t hurt you, and it was wrong. But it’s a miracle that he’s not gone yet, and that can only mean one thing.”

“What?” You whisper tearfully.

“That he really does love you. After he drank that man’s blood, he wouldn’t have been able to hide his feelings of hatred for everyone if he turned. Not unless something real slowed it down.”

Slowed…

Slowed it down…?

Then it hits you like a flying brick.

Fuck.

Ga-In sees your panicked look and she speaks up, “What is it?”

“Oh no…Ga-In I thought it stopped, I’m so stupid.”

“What do you mean, y/n?”

“I- I thought since he didn’t turn then Seokjin was wrong. I thought they were all wrong and he was okay for now, he acted like he was okay. I’m so stupid.” Tears start streaming down your face. “You’re right, Innie. It didn’t stop, it slowed down. The sun, his mood swings…he’s still turning.”

You’re fully crying now as you scramble out of her arms. “Where is he? Where’s Kook?”

“T-Taehyung heard him crying in his room, he said he was going to check on him.”

You jump off the bed and run to your door, flinging it open and stepping across the hall to open Jungkook’s door. You don’t even bother knocking, you just barge in and see him curled up by his bed. He looks up and you see the tear streaks down his puffy cheeks.

“Kookie.” You breathe, your heart breaking at the sight of him.

“Y-y/n. I- I’m so s-sorry.” Jungkook sobs and holds his arms out to you. You hurry over to him and hug him, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tightly, as if he’s afraid if he loosens a little, you’ll just fly away.

You stuff your face into the crook of his neck and let your tears fall.

“I love you, Jungkook.” You cry into his neck, relieved that you can finally say it. Jungkook feels his chest aching and he tries to breathe steadily as he strokes your hair. “I love you too, so much. Please forgive me, y/n. I didn’t mean a word I said, I was a piece of shit for saying that to you.”

“I forgive you.” You sniffle and hold him tighter against you.

“Thank you.” He chokes on his tears and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. You pull away enough to wipe his tears, your own still falling. Then you lean in and kiss him slowly, feeling his hands move up to cradle the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. You taste the saltiness of both your tears as he pulls you in again.

You finally break away for a breath and he sniffles while he tries to clean up your face, using his sleeve. “Jungkook.” You get his attention when you take his face in your hands and he stops dabbing at your tears. His red eyes shine with unfallen tears while you look at him.

“Please talk to me, Kookie. I know that you’re not alright. Please, please just trust me and talk to me. I know you’re afraid and it’s okay.” You whisper, still cupping his face gently.

Jungkook sighs shakily and reaches up to take one of your hands, “I do trust you; I trust you with everything in me. I’m just-…” His voice breaks and he clears his throat. “I’m just so scared.” You nod and he pulls you closer to hug you again.

“I can’t do this, y/n. I c-can’t do this.” His broken sobs make your throat close. “I can feel myself slipping and I’m so scared. I don’t want to be a monster, I’d rather die than be a monster, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” His breath hitches. “I can’t stop it, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry y/n.” He cries freely into your shoulder and you feel your heart break more than it ever has.

“Kookie.” You whisper soothingly, petting his head to help him calm down. “I’m here with you, and you can’t get rid of me. You’re going to be okay, you can’t give up yet.” A few tears slip out and you clear your throat.

“I won’t let you give up, not now and not ever. You can do this.”

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, Kookie. You can fight it; I know you can. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re not alone. You have me, and all your hyungs, Yuri and Ga-In too.”

“They hate me.” Jungkook sniffles sadly.

“What do you mean?” You pull back to look at his wet face.

“Ga-In and Yuri hate me. They’d kill me if they had a chance.” He wipes his nose, refusing to look at you. You stifle a laugh at how cute he looks and kiss him on the nose gently, “They don’t. Yuri is just a spitfire, and Ga-In helped me stop being dumb and see that you really love me.”

He looks up at you, sadness filling his gaze. “Y-you thought I don’t love you?”

“For a minute there, yeah. I thought you meant what you said, but now I know you didn’t. I can see you struggling Kookie, and I’m so proud of you.”

“Why? You shouldn’t be proud of me for struggling, I should have overcome it by now for you to be proud of me.”

“That’s not how I see it. I see it as the fact that you’re still struggling means you haven’t given up yet, and I couldn’t be prouder.” He sniffles again at your words.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“How did I ever get lucky enough to meet you? I’m sorry I can’t be more for you.” His voice is so quiet you lean in to hear him better. “I just wish I could be better for y-”

You put a finger to his lips to make him stop talking.

“That’s enough, Kook.” You wipe your eyes one last time and stand up, grabbing for his hand to help him up as well. Then you gently push him onto his bed.

“Lie down.”

He quietly follows your request, laying his head on his pillow but keeping his eyes on you. You kneel at the side of his bed, so your face is level with his head. “Close your eyes.” You whisper and he closes them. You stroke his hair and start humming a random tune that pops into your head.

You know you’re not the best singer, and your voice cracks a lot, but the content little smile on Jungkook’s face makes you not even care. You keep brushing your fingers through his hair and singing softly, watching his face relax more until he’s breathing steadily, out like a light. You swallow your tears and keep singing, memorizing every line of his face, the little mole on his nose and one under his lip, his long lashes resting against his pale cheeks, his dark locks falling over his forehead, and the way his eyes flutter slightly when he’s sleeping.

The thought that you might lose him forever lingers in your mind as you try to wipe your tears. You never thought you’d fall in love with him, not in a million years. And now that you’ve found the one thing you never knew you needed, the cruel world is trying to take him from you.

But you won’t let it.

You’ll love him for the rest of your life, whether he turns or not.

You just hope he won’t forget about you or learn to hate you with all that he is. You don’t think you could stand seeing him turn in front of you, losing who he is each second and not being able to stop it. You can’t imagine how the other boys must have felt seeing their youngest become the one thing that destroyed him in the first place.

Before heading to your room, you look at the sleeping boy one last time, rubbing your thumb along his cheek gently.  

“I’m going to save you, Jeon Jungkook. I promise.” You whisper so quietly that your voice breaks.

~            ~              ~

When you open your bedroom door the next morning, you see Jungkook right outside and leaning against the wall. The second he hears you, he looks up and his face brightens.

“Hey.” He says hesitantly.

You smile at him and step out of your room, “Hey, Kook.”

He looks a lot better than he did last night. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him look as vulnerable as he did before he fell asleep. Now, he looks like your old Kook again, but there’s a hesitancy in his eyes, almost like he doesn’t want to upset you.

“Uh, can we talk?” He asks and you nod immediately.

You grab a breakfast bar from Seokjin in the kitchen before meeting Jungkook on the porch. He’s got a hoodie on with the hood up besides it being a nice day outside, and you know that the sun is still bothering him.

You two walk to the little clearing that you always go, and he moves to lean against the trunk of the willow tree. Once he’s in the shade he takes his hood off. You sit close to him on the grass, hating the awkward silence between you two. Jungkook clears his throat and you look up at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I just wanted to apologize again, for last night.” He says quietly and you stand up to move closer to him. “Kook, I already forgave you, and I’m sorry that you thought I didn’t care about you. I could’ve chosen my words better and tried to be more understanding of how you saw the situation.”

He gives you a weak smile and shakes his head. “I just let my jealousy control me, and it was wrong of me. There’s no excuse for my behavior.” He looks at you as you stare at your fingers, fiddling with them.

“I was so scared.”

You look up at his words, seeing his eyes glisten a little. He straightens up and you can see all the emotion in his gaze as he looks at you, “I was so scared that I was going to lose you.”

Your eyes soften and you bite your lip before speaking. “You won’t lose me, Kookie.”

He shakes his head again, “If I hadn’t found you when I did, I would’ve lost you. I would’ve lost you to death or something so much worse.” His voice breaks and you see the tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do with myself if you were hurt because of me.”

“Koo, nothing that happened was because of you.” You say softly, hating that he blames himself for something that was beyond anyone’s control. “I’m okay, I’m alive. Because you saved me.”

Jungkook sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve before he opens his arms, “C-can I please hold you?” You nod and step into his hold, letting him wrap his arms around you. “I would never forgive myself if I had let something bad happen to you.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I’m okay, Kookie.” You whisper soothingly, patting him on the back comfortingly. You hear him take in a shaky breath. “Please, don’t ever leave me. Please, y/n.”

“I wouldn’t even if you told me to.” You say with a small smile.

“I won’t, I won’t ever. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you, little flower. Please remember that.” Jungkook’s voice breaks as he speaks and you find yourself wiping your eyes, trying to push back the haunting thoughts that plague your mind.

“I will. You need to know that I will never leave you, Kook.” You look up at him, trying desperately to prove that you’re speaking the truth. He can see it in the desperation in your eyes. “I don’t care what you look like or what you need to eat, I love you.”

Jungkook cups your cheeks so gently it’s as if he’s holding a fragile teacup, then he leans down and presses his lips to yours softly. He pulls back to take a quick breath before kissing you again, and again. You start to giggle, and you feel Jungkook smile into the kiss when he goes back in for another. Your hands are holding his shoulders as his wrap around you and move to your lower back.

Jungkook pulls you into him a little more, but the pressure he puts on your sore tailbone causes a pained gasp to escape your lips. Jungkook pulls away, his brows furrowed, concern filling his gaze. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head and let out a puff of air, “N-no, I’m fine.”

“You’re lying. What’s the matter, y/n? Did I do something?” You can see the panic in his eyes as he searches your face. You shake your head again, “I’m fine, Kook.”

“Don’t lie to me. I thought we were going to be honest with each other.” Jungkook’s voice has a tinge of irritation in it, upset that you’re hurt and not telling him.

You feel a bit of your own annoyance at his words, “You can’t say I’m the only one that’s lying. There are things you’ve kept from me too, you know.” You pull out of his arms and he sighs. “Y/n…I kept some things from you to protect you, telling you wouldn’t do anything but make you upset and worry.” He tries to defend himself.

“Well, why can’t you believe that’s why I don’t tell you some things?” You snap back, irritated that the moment was ruined. Jungkook clenches his jaw, “If you’re hurt, you need to tell me.”

“Why?” Now you’re just being stubborn, and you know it. You didn’t want him to find out, because he would just blame himself. You’re mad at yourself for reacting to the pain and when he accused you of being the only one to hide the truth that just irked you even more.  

You hate fighting with him, but all your emotions are in a twist and you can’t help but snap back. Jungkook surprises you though, when he clenches and unclenches his fists and takes a few breaths before apologizing.

“Ok, you’re right.” You look at him in shock. “You’re right, it isn’t fair for me to expect you to be fully honest with me if I don’t give you the same trust back. I’m sorry.”

You blink a few times, then you clear your throat. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been stubborn and kept the fight going.”

Jungkook smiles and steps over to kiss you on the forehead, then he takes your hand. “So, are we good?” You nod. “As long as we agree to actually be honest from now on.” You mumble and he laughs. “Ok, it’s a deal. Now, are you hurt?”

You nod reluctantly and Jungkook brushes your hair out of your face. “Where are you hurt, love?”

“My tailbone.” You whisper quietly and he leans in. “Your what, baby?” You sigh, cheeks turning crimson from the pet names. “Tailbone.” You say a little louder.

Jungkook’s face drops and you internally beat yourself up, knowing this would happen. He takes your chin to lift your face to look at him. “I hurt you, didn’t I? Last night when I pushed you.” His voice wavers and you quickly shake your head. “N-no, Kookie. You didn’t even push me that hard, I just lost my balance and tripped.”

That isn’t the truth at all but knowing the full truth will hurt him more.

Jungkook steps away and brings his hands up to his head. “Fuck, I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.” He mutters, clearly upset. “Kook.” You reach out to him and he pulls you into a hug, careful not to touch your lower back. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Please stop saying that. You already said sorry and I forgave you, you’re making me feel sad, Kook.” He nods and pulls away to wipe his eyes. He cries so much these days, you think sadly.

“Ok, let’s go home and see if Seokjin hyung can get you something to help.”

“Alright.” You smile at his determined face as he grabs your hand and practically pulls you all the way back to the house.

When you’re about five minutes from home, you see something in the trees from the corner of your eye. But when you look, there’s nothing.

It was as if someone was hiding behind a tree and watching you. You shiver and look ahead, putting it off as figment of your stressed-out brain’s imagination. But the second time you see a flash of black, you look to the side quickly and see a man looking out from behind a tree. Your stomach clenches in fear, then you realize who it is.

Seungwook.

How…how did he find this place?

Your heart races as you see him notice you staring. He tilts his head at you, then he steps back into the trees and he’s gone.

“Y/n? You okay?”

Your head whips back to see Jungkook looking at you curiously, “Y-yeah, just tired is all.”

~                         ~                            ~

Ga-In grabs you the second you two step inside. Now Jungkook and Ga-In each have a hand and you’re standing between them.

“We need to talk.” Ga-In says, a look of seriousness on her face.

Jungkook frowns, “But, we need to see Seokjin hyung-“

“It’s okay, Kookie. You go ask him if he has anything and I’ll be back soon, alright?” You squeeze his hand and he looks at you before nodding reluctantly. He gives your hand a quick squeeze before making his way to the kitchen to look for the eldest.

Ga-In immediately yanks you up the stairs and to your room, where Yuri is sitting on the bed, fidgeting.

“What’s going on?” You look between them.

“It’s Jimin.” Ga-In says and you frown in confusion, “What about him? He’s okay, right?”

“He’s a human.” Yuri blurts out, still looking at her hands that are clenching.

Your eyes widen and your throat closes. “W-what?”

Yuri doesn’t even hesitate, “He told me he loved me today, and I said it back. A few minutes later his eyes were dark brown, and his color was coming back.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?

“Y-You love Jimin?” You stutter and she nods her head simply. “Yeah, I do.”

“Oh…and you guys didn’t…you didn’t kiss?” You say awkwardly.

She nods, “Well, yeah. But only a minute before he said he loved me.”

Your stomach turns into knots at the news.

“A-and he turned human…just like that?”

“Just like that.” Yuri muses, staring at the wall now.

“Th-that’s great! H-he must be so excited.” You force a smile onto your face and Yuri lets a little smile slip out. “He is.” She whispers.

“Well, why aren’t we celebrating? Let’s go and congratulate him.” You try to sound cheery, but you see Ga-In watching you sadly. Yuri also looks at you, a look of sympathy on her face.

“Why aren’t you guys smiling? Isn’t this a good thing?” You’re beyond confused now. Yuri sighs, never one to beat around the bush, she gets up and walks over to you.

“I heard about Jungkook.”

“Oh.” You can’t think of anything else to say. She smiles sadly and touches your arm, “We don’t fully understand what’s going on at this point for anyone, he might still be okay.”

“O-of course he’s okay.” You force another smile. “He’s alright.”

The tears come before you can even comprehend it; sliding down your cheeks as you turn and grab your sweatpants and your extra floppy t-shirt. “Everything is fine, don’t even worry.” Your tone oozes with fake cheeriness as the girls helplessly watch the tears stream. You turn and start changing your pants, “I’ll get into more comfy clothes and then we’ll go down and talk to Jimin.” You keep rambling, trying not to break down.

You change as quickly as you can and wipe your eyes, hurrying out the door before either of the girls can say something else. You run down the stairs and into the living room where Jimin is sitting on the couch, surrounded by the other members, a very smug looking Tae next to him. Jimin looks up and smiles at you when you come in. You feel tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they’re happy tears.

You walk over and Jimin stands to hug you, “Ah, y/n-ah. Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry.” He laughs and you sniffle while nodding and trying to dry your face. Seokjin is sitting in one of the armchairs, his face lit up with a bright smile.

“You girls sure are confusing the heck out of us.” He says and everyone starts laughing. You snort a laugh while wiping your nose. Ga-In and Yuri walk in and Yuri moves to sit by Jimin, Tae pulling Ga-In into his lap.

You look around and see Jungkook standing against the wall, looking at the ground and fidgeting with something in his hand.

“How does it feel to be a weak human, Jimin?” Hoseok pushes the younger on the shoulder playfully. Jimin grins, “I feel so alive!” That sets everyone into another round of laughter. You see Jungkook smile a little, still focused on whatever he’s holding.

You walk over and side hug him, taking him by surprise. He looks up and smiles, “Y/n, I didn’t see you come down. I- I got something to help with the pain from Jin hyung.” He holds up the little container.

Jungkook leads you to the bathroom down the hall from the living room, “Uh, it’s some kind of pain relief ointment, he said it should help with aches and stuff.” He’s staring at the ground as he hands it to you. You tilt his chin up to look at you again and smile. “Thank you, Jungkookie.”

He smiles sadly and leans against the wall of the hallway to wait for you to put it on. You close the door and take a little of the ointment on your fingers, then you lift your shirt and put it on your lower back. You look in the mirror for guidance and see a tiny little bruise where you fell as you gently rub it in.

You come out a minute later just as Jin announces that it’s lunch time.

~               ~               ~

The rest of the day is spent hanging out in the living room with everyone as you try to quiet your anxious thoughts.

You love Jungkook, you know you do. You love him more than you ever thought you could love someone, so why didn’t it work? You never even thought about it changing him back when you kissed him or when you said you loved him. You just did those because you felt like it was the right time, and you wanted to.

Is he really too far gone?

No, he can’t be.

Your biggest fear right now, is Jungkook knowing how the other boys turned back. You’re afraid he’s going to think that you don’t actually love him because it didn’t work, or that he’s going to blame it all on himself.

You keep spacing out throughout the day, only coming back when Jungkook kisses your cheek and asks if you’re alright.

The other boys watch you two, secretly wondering what’s going on. Jungkook is still cold and short with everyone else, but you. They haven’t seen him being so kind to someone else since before he was bitten.

Jungkook tries not to glower while everyone freaks out over Jimin and Tae every minute. He doesn’t want to think about it. Because he knows what they did, and he knows it didn’t work for the two of you.

And he blames it all on himself.

He knows he’s the reason it didn’t work, because he drank that man’s blood, he’s cursed you to be in love with someone that can never fully give you what you deserve.

He hates himself for that.

If someone were to look in the window from the outside, all they would see are smiles and laughter all around. They would never guess that each individual is obsessing over a problem of their own inside their minds, while they joke and smile to cover it all up.

~                ~               ~

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” Jungkook pleads outside of your bedroom door while he leans on the frame and gives you puppy dog eyes.

You laugh nervously, feeling butterflies swarming in your tummy. “Jungkook, don’t be silly.”

He frowns, quieting his voice when he sees over your shoulder that the other girls are eavesdropping while giggling. “I’m serious. I miss you, and I need to hold you. I don’t want to have nightmares again.”

“Nightmares?” You ask worriedly, you didn’t know he was having bad dreams. Jungkook shifts on his feet, “I- I dreamt that that asshole bit you, that he turned you into a vampire, and-…never mind.” He mumbles in embarrassment.

You step out of the room and close the door, gesturing for Jungkook to go into his room. He goes to sit on his bed and you follow him, putting your hand on his arm gently. “Do you want to talk about it, or do you want to forget?”

He shrugs, eyes shining.

You cuddle into his side and hug him tightly, “Tell me what happened.”

He hesitates for a minute, then he sighs. “Y-you turned into a vampire, a-and you changed completely. You hated me, and everyone else, and you started killing people left and right. The y/n I fell in love with was destroyed, and there was nothing I could do to save you.” His voice cracks and you look up at him, reaching a hand to cup his face and make him look at you.

“Hey, look at me.” He does, a single tear sliding down.

“That will never happen, I promise. You’re big and strong and you’ll always protect me, right?” You feel relief flood through you when he smiles tearfully and nods.

“Lay down, baby.”

Jungkook feels his chest warm at what you call him, then he lays down, pulling you down next to him. Your head is a few inches from his, lying on his pillow as he stares at you. His eyes are so big and bright, and full of so much love that you feel yourself getting choked up. “Will you sing to me?” He whispers and you nod, then you start stroking his hair like you did last night.

Gently caressing his face, you start to sing an old lullaby that you thought you’d forgotten, the words coming into your mind randomly as you sing it for the first time in a long time. Jungkook is sleeping before too long, his little breaths even and slow.

You lay there and watch him sleep, running your thumb along the little scar on his cheek, wondering how in the world you ended up in this position.

Your love for him scares you, when everything around you is telling you over and over again that something bad is going to happen, he’s going to be taken away from you in some way, it’s hard to just relax and feel happy.

Seeing him cry because he wants to be human again breaks your heart in ways you never thought it could be broken. You wish you could just kiss all his wounds away and make him smile all the time, take away all his fears. You stare up at the ceiling after a while, hearing him breathing steadily beside you.

Then a thought pops into your head. You think about earlier, seeing Seungwook…How could you have forgotten?

You sit up and carefully move yourself out of Jungkook’s arms, which is no easy task. Then, you tiptoe across the room and shut the door gently behind you. The house is quiet, so you creep down the hall and the stairs, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid.

But you just need to check.

You grab your shoes and pull them on, then you grab a jacket and a flashlight and sneak outside. The fear that immediately sits in the pit of your belly makes you second guess your intelligence for the umpteenth time since you thought of this.

You hate the dark. You hate the woods, and monsters, and being alone, and pain. You absolutely hate pain. And if all of this goes wrong, everything you’re afraid of will most likely happen.

With those so very encouraging thoughts to keep you occupied, you start off in the direction of the clearing. You only make it five minutes from the house when you give up, the terror inside you while walking through the dark woods has finally won out over the stupidity of coming in the first place. So, you turn to head back.

“Y/n.”

You freeze at the sound of his voice, then you turn and shine your light on the tall young man who’s stepping out from behind a tree.

“Seungwook…”

“Y/n, I’m so glad you’re alive.” He smiles and you smile back, relieved to see he’s okay, but there’s also a lingering sickness in your tummy that you’re betraying Jungkook by being here.

No.

No, you’re here because you’re protecting him.

You need to explain everything to Seungwook before he does something he’ll regret.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Seungwook. I thought you were dead.” You say quietly, remembering the last memory you had of him being as you were dragged away from your home.

“I thought the same of you.” He smiles again and takes a step closer. “Y/n, where’s Ga-In? We need to get out of here. I can help you get out.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “I- I don’t need to get out, Seungwook. They aren’t the bad guys.”

His face hardens and he shakes his head, “They’ve brain washed you, y/n. They kidnapped you and done who knows what to you. Why are you trusting them?”

“They saved me, they didn’t kidnap us.”

“Y/n, get your mind together. What are you saying? The vampires are the good guys? Those monsters?”

“They aren’t monsters. Well, not all of them.” You say desperately, trying to figure out how to explain.

“Y/n, please. I can’t stand to see them trick you like this, please just come back with me.”

“I can’t, please just listen Seungwo-“

“I love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “W-what?”

He doesn’t flinch as he repeats his words.

“I love you, y/n.” 

_____________________________________

a/n: bitch what-

tag list: @jjungkook99 @ditttiii @fekitza @rubinora @xxxanimangxxx​ @mygukandonly​ @elliegrace1999tvd​ @nikikookie​ @karissassirak​ @howbizarre​ @lettersforjoon @krystle1990​ @adelina1299​ @your-best-behaviour​ @jeonjungkookismyfuture​ @squidyelmosquidbutt​ @hopeworld-baseline​ 

[turningtummyrubs]

Hi, I just discovered your blog and I love your writing! Would you consider writing any of your oc pairs (I tried to pick one, but they all sound adorable) where one person comes down with a stomach bug with it coming out of both ends, and the other has to take care of him. Doesn't have to be super descriptive, just whatever you are comfortable with.

Sure! Thank you :))

cw: minor, non-graphic scat; emeto

———

When Hart wakes up, he feels... strange. Not bad, per se, but still kind of weird. His stomach feels kind of tingly and if he moves too quickly a dull feeling of sickness roils through his belly. But it’s fine. He can deal with it. He has a photoshoot followed by a business meeting coming up that he can’t afford to miss. He’ll just have to hope it doesn’t get worse.

He gets dressed, brushes his teeth, washes his face, and has a light breakfast—avocado toast. The food doesn’t quite sit right in his stomach, but he willfully ignores the uncomfortable sensation and gets into his car, grateful that there are no fans waiting outside his door this morning. Probably because Zach’s across town recording.

Upon arriving at the park he’s supposed to be modeling at, his agent comes running up to brush powder on his face for the lighting and get him into position.

He manages to pull off some pretty good photos, though his belly never stops slowly churning, and, by the time he’s done, his skin feels unnaturally warm. He presses a hesitant palm to his stomach as he gets back into his car, rubbing lightly as he drives in an attempt to quell the rolling and turning.

Things only seem to escalate during the meeting. Hart, unfortunately, is the one supposed to be leading the whole thing which means he has to stand up and walk around occasionally, talking the entire time. When he’s finally able to sit back down again, he forces himself to take a few deep, measured breaths. Nausea crawls up his throat, heavy and sour, and he forcefully swallows it back. He stifles a quiet moan as the queasy ache in his belly spikes.

One of his hands tightly grips the armrest of his chair while the other presses careful fingertips into his pained side, massaging cautiously as it spasms and churns. To his dismay, his belly’s beginning to bloat painfully, making it difficult to breathe or think properly.

He hardly notices when the meeting’s over, only realizing it’s done when he sees everyone standing up and pushing their chairs in. He eases himself up, inhaling sharply as his tummy cramps dangerously, before hurrying out the building. He sags into the seat of his car, shoulders slumped, and tries to breathe through the now near-debilitating pain and nausea. He rubs his hands over his face and is surprised to find his skin alarmingly hot, prickling with heavy heat.

He rests a hand on his turning tummy and even that slight pressure is enough to dislodge an air pocket that leaves his mouth a queasy burp. He groans softly and palpates at the swelling area, another nauseous belch working its way up.

Hart drives home quickly, knowing that soon more than just hot air is going to be leaving his body. Sharp cramps have begun to spread across his gut, seizing abruptly with a painful ferocity.

By the time he pulls into his driveway, the nausea’s risen to a miserable peak and he’s forced to unlock his front door at an alarming speed, rushing to the bathroom and dropping to his knees in front of the toilet as hot vomit comes rushing out of his mouth. He hardly registers Zach, who must’ve returned early, kneeling down beside him.

“Hart?” Zach says anxiously, rubbing a hand up his back.

Hart opens his mouth to respond but all that comes out is more queasy nausea. It fills his mouth with a sickly taste and spews into the toilet bowl, curdling and sour. Hart moans, wrapping an arm tight around his fiercely churning tummy, and Zach smooths his hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Zach murmurs. “You’re okay. Just get it out.”

Hart’s chest heaves violently before a final rush of vomit spills into the bowl. Zach leaves and returns with a glass of water after flushing the toilet and Hart swishes it around his mouth to clear out the nauseating taste.

He sags into Zach, thoroughly exhausted, and Zach slips a hand beneath his shirt and smooths his palm over the bloated surface of his belly. It twists and burbles beneath his hand, gurgling loudly every few seconds in a sickening fashion.

“Come on,” Zach says, gently tugging him to his feet. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Hart sways dangerously into his side as they walk and collapses onto the bed, curling up slightly and shaking with fever. Zach sits down beside him and presses a cool hand to his forehead.

“You’re coming down with something, huh?”

Hart just groans in response, sweat pouring down his face.

Zach massages his bloated stomach with gentle pressure, careful not to further upset the nausea and gas burbling in Hart’s gut. It churns queasily against his palm.

Hart lies still and tries to let it pass for a bit, relishing in the small comfort Zach’s warm hand provides, but his stomach is still gurgling and bloated with gas and everything hurts.

A few minutes later Zach’s palm dips and Hart feels something shift and—

He jumps up and runs to the bathroom, plopping down on the toilet just as his bowels open and his rumbling intestines empty into the bowl. Hart groans and keels over as the spoiled excrement squelches painfully through him, making his abdomen ripple with undulating sickly gurgles.

Zach closes the bathroom door behind him and very gently rubs his broad hand back and forth over Hart’s lower stomach, coaxing everything downwards. Hart groans shakily and tries to focus on the soothing presses of Zach’s hand instead of the nauseating waste rapidly expelling itself from his tummy.

The last of it ends with a few sloshing grumbles and twinges and Hart sags with relief and exhaustion. He cleans himself up quickly and flops back down onto the bed, turning onto his side so Zach can rub at the remaining queasiness settled like a dull ache in his stomach.

“Thanks, Zachy,” he murmurs, eyes slipping shut as Zach’s palm works away every minor squeeze and cramp. 

“’Course, Hart. This just means you can’t get mad at me now for eating the last fudgsicle.”

“Zachary!”

[ubemango]

commission 2: bestie!jk and the case of the Stupid Bag (amongst other things)

(+ and even more convolutedly, a rich&spoiled!oc/humble!jk besties au) 

I wanna say that the ending is as abrupt as it is because conversations between best friends just Go Places but really. just. This whole drabble really just Went Places SPWWPSHSWPGPW.......thank you to Fina @angelguk for helping me out, and a biiiiiig big thank u to my friend for commissioning me this piece. Ur the best, happy Super Super Super Late Birthday!!!!!!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖 

The streetlights hurt to look at. It’s too early for your eyes to process, and you’re a second from nodding off for the third time when Jeongguk nudges you up.

“Stop sleeping.”

You yawn. “I’m not the one driving.”

It’s not even his car. You would’ve been happy picking him and letting him drive, but then he would’ve been mad if you didn’t let him pay gas. “If you sleep then I’ll sleep too.”

“No you won’t,” you grumble. “It’s your fault for wanting to see the sunrise.”

“You said you wanted to do it on your birthday!” He complains. It’s good that you’re cloaked with the dark: he can’t see the sheepish downturn of your mouth, because he’s not wrong. You genuinely did want to see the sunrise today, but getting past that stage of Actually Waking Up was really difficult to do. You sit still with the muddled fog of bad sleep. “We’re not even that far from the mountain.”

You can’t deny the looming mass of rock that sits jagged on the horizon. The outline of the steps you’ll be climbing soon are shrouded in the peak of dawn—hardly visible, especially with the way your vision blurs. “All the more reason for me to nap.”

Even if it is for two minutes. Jeongguk doesn’t argue when you slump in on yourself, succumbing to that inevitable wave of pre-sunlight fatigue.

The car door slams you awake. In the two seconds it takes you to reorient your brain,  Jeongguk’s got your door open.

“Up and at ‘em, princess. Sun’s peeking and we’re wasting the minutes.”

You feel him reach over to unbuckle your seatbelt. “I can’t.”

“We’re hiking whether you like it or not,” he sneers. “I’ve been waiting so long for nice nature shots since you got me this camera. Now—“

“—Ugh!”

He’s got a tight fist on your arm, hauling you out from the comfortable heat of the car. It’s just as cold as you anticipated. Jeongguk doesn’t cower from the punch you land on his chest. 

“I’m so tired,” you say, reaching over the console for your bag, threatening an ache in the middle of your back. “And my back hurts.”

He ignores you, rounding the rear to grab whatever he’d stuffed there before he came to pick you up. (There’s a text with a four AM time stamp in your phone that reads Which penthouse am I coming to again?) “Gucci must be so heavy on your poor back,” you hear him snicker.

“It’s small and it makes me look dainty,” you hiss. “Like my shoes.”

“Your Destructors?”

You frown, meeting him where he rummages. “They’re called Disruptors!”

“They’ll never make up for your alien toes,” Jeongguk argues. 

“I’m not standing here for you to berate me. Ha! Wrong berate. You’re here to cele-berate me—ow.”

He gives you a pointed look. Probably for that awful joke, and by your standards wasn’t even that bad; it was pretty witty considering your GPA this year reflected absolutely no sense of critical thinking. 

No matter, because he doesn’t even apologize for nearly whacking you with his massive-for-no-reason military bag.

“She’s so big,” you point out. 

It really is, woven tight with extremely dense fibre: like some sort of green, rectangular boulder with way too many pockets for the camera equipment and whatever else Jeongguk’s got stuffed in there. His shoulders sag with the weight of it all, and he closes the back door shut. 

“That’s what she said,” he comments. He trudges off before you can hit him again for his own poor choice of humour, the beep of the car cutting through your sputtering.

“But like—“ you speed-walk to his side—(you don’t even know how he got to the fifth step that quickly, but then again you’re literally on the brink of brain dead)— “I didn’t even bring that much.”

“It’s fine, it’s just camera stuff, other stuff. You wanna see something?”

“Sure.”

“You see this?” He sticks a finger in the pocket and traces the circumference. “An inner layer of thermodynamic shit. Keeps things hot. Like if you ever take me to a country with those vending machine coffee cups. You can’t do that because you don’t have this bag.”

You frown at the hostility. It’s an ugly bag, but you’re too tired to fight. “So like—to Japan.”

Jeongguk huffs up the steps. “Sure.”

“Then let’s go.” The lamp post at this level flickers off with a quiet zap. You can see the sun starting to bleed out past the stars. “I can use the plane this weekend, we can go—“

Before you can catch yourself, Jeongguk says your name in polite warning. “I don’t need that pretty stuff.”

You keep your stride, cheeks burning hot. Jeongguk’s nice like that. It’s what you appreciate most about him: pushing you past those boundaries of discomfort you’ve been taught never to cross because if you didn’t like something, you stayed pliant for everyone’s best interest.

Jeongguk’s not pliant, though. He’s assertive with that nice humbleness you’ve never known. Adolescence was a different time, when he’d gotten into your private academy out of his sheer brain power alone. No amount of daddy-manufactured money could get you or your classmates his smarts, and they hadn’t appreciated the poor, newbie boy-genius stealing their guaranteed (or: paid for) placements in the work place beyond. But you’d taken an immediate liking to that shy student cowering in the back—though he still had all the answers to the homework questions if he was inclined to answer.

The very first time you’d tried to offer him a ride home in your helicopter, he’d been livid.

“You can’t—think about the environmental impact! The fuel extracted for such a short trip! Do you know how many villages have been destroyed by Gildan for the sake of extraction?!”

(You hadn’t. But he’d told you, and proceeded to take the bus home like he was so used to doing.)

“You don’t need it,” you sigh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jeongguk shrugs. “I mean—it’s what you know. And I don’t blame you. But you know how much pollutants come out of private jets—it just…wouldn’t kill you to demote to, like, first class.”

It’s funny, how much you’ve had conversations like these. The instinct to help him out, his kind rejections. Because you’ve learned now that issues aren’t solved with the expediency you’re given. Jeongguk doesn’t get to have that. And now that you’re in college, you’ve noticed that things really haven’t changed: Jeongguk’s gone astronomical amounts of ahead in terms of course level, and you’re just trying to keep up with the bare minimum credits. You’d feel bad for yourself but having the back-up of money in the form of inheritance really keeps you afloat from the pity.

“This is making me tired,” you complain. You’re pretty sure you’re way past the halfway mark of this mountain, but even you’re starting to feel antsy about missing those first few seconds of the sun waking up. 

“We’re almost there. I can see the outpost from here.”

Jeongguk points to a wooden structure maybe sixty steps from where you’re approaching: built high over the scattered buildings an hour’s drive away, the flutter of an awakening city. Pretty industry made only for your viewing pleasure, because when you get up there, you won’t be looking at the home of scary corporate; the home you’re used to seeing, with your dad running a good third of that district. 

It’ll just be the glass the sun will reflect on. The place so far away you don’t have to think about briefcases and dry-clean only suits.

It’s what you came here for—it’s been easy falling in that trap of indecisiveness. Not wanting what your future is set to be, because right now, the path to your economics degree is tenuous at best. 

So you take the diverging route. And you’re finally at the outpost, out of breath. “The sun’s coming up,” you threaten. Jeongguk hurries up the steps as much as his bag allows, and when you reach the top, the fog in your head dissipates right into the wide skyline.

“Sometimes I want the whole world,” you announce.

Jeongguk settles his arms on the ledge, contemplating the rising sun. “You could get it if you tried.”

Maybe he should just say if you asked, but you know he’s too polite to do so. 

“I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s okay not to,” he commends.

“But you’re so smart. And—you know what you’re doing. But I’m here taking Economics 101 for the second time and I don’t wanna end up in a law office anyway because my dad will get me there just like the rest of our classmates and you’re gonna be doing good things because you’re a great person who’s like, really socially aware, and I can’t do good things because I’m a bad and stupid person with a private jet.”

Jeongguk lets you deflate by yourself, ignoring your spiel for a second to drop that Ugly Bag on the ground. You hear him dig for something; the click of a knob, then a quick snap.

“Look at the sun,” is all he says.

It’s very small. And suddenly it’s not, expanding into bursts of light you aren’t ready for. Not because it hurts to look at but that sudden wave of silence settles fast. A feeling of finality—the beginning that always, always comes back, because new days are inevitable. “The sun is very big,” you sigh. 

Jeongguk hums in agreement, takes another picture. “You’re not bad or stupid. Sure you don’t like economics and you hate school, like, in general. But that’s not your fault, just like owning that jet isn’t your fault. I think you forget some things.”

You pick at your manicure. You’re not so tired anymore. “Like what?”

“Like you’re the only person who talked to me the first week of school,” he goes on. “You offered me a ride home even though I was perfectly capable of taking the bus. You bought my parents groceries when you noticed I wasn’t eating lunch, and you told Seungkwan that you’d stick a wet finger in his ear if he didn’t stop making fun of me for having ugly shoes.”

You laugh. “Seungkwan had big ears and thought he had valid opinions.”

“Anyway—” Jeongguk snorts too—“I’m just saying. I know I—I know I talk a lot about… you doing bad things. Like with the whole plane thing.”

In other words: he’s not here to baby you. He never has. The world you've grown up in has never been kind to him or his parents, and he doesn’t have to keep you in check but he’ll do it for your sake—his, too. “You’re just being a good friend.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person,” he says. “It’s good that you’re owning up to those things. Like how you told your dad to veto the health benefit cuts that were under discussion.”

You freeze. You didn’t know he knew that. “How—“

“Who else would get the head of a whole corporate chain under their thumb in one night if not for a really stubborn daughter, who somehow managed to get him to veto a policy I complained about over text the morning I read it in the news?”

Point taken. The guy loves reading his news. Jeongguk lifts the camera once more, but this time points it to your face. “Ew—no!”

“Smile!”

“I’m ugly,” you pout.

“You’re not. Look.” He settles into your side again, into the growing life of the city you don’t love anymore. “Your life—you have… privileges. And you’re learning that you can do good things that your dad isn’t. I’m proud of you.”

“…Really?”

“I mean you have to start somewhere. And I’m really starting to think you didn’t just come to see the sunrise because you thought it’d be a cool thing for me to take pictures of on your birthday,” Jeongguk admits.

You nod. He’s too smart for you sometimes. “I… I kinda wanna switch majors.”

“To?”

“Something other than economics,” you reveal.

Jeongguk squints with apprehension. “Is this because I called your dad my favourite class enemy the other day because I—I’m so sorry. I know he’s your dad but—“

“It’s okay! He’s nice to me but not. To other people,” you fidget. Jeongguk sighs with relief. “But… yeah. You make me want to learn about that stuff. Because you’re right, I have the privilege. And I know have it and I just don’t wanna sound dumb and say wrong things because it’s so easy for me to and I hate that and I wanna—wanna learn and actually do good things. You know?”

Jeongguk nods. “I’m proud of you,” he says again. “Really. You’re doing good. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” 

He lets the heavy camera dangle around his neck. Lets the conversation drift into something more easy because he’s just as tired as you are. “So I know you’ve been thinking about how ugly my bag is.”

“It’s charming,” you divert. The sun is well past the horizon at this point, and invigoration has come in the form of wanting to go the fuck back to the car.

“You’re a liar. Look! There’s even this hole you can put a tube through for when you want to pack those bags of water, and more thermodynamic shit in this pocket—“

“I don’t care about thermodynamics!”

[brokemultidotexe]

Topflight Academy Teaser | OT7

↬ Pairing: OC (Yuri) x ?? | Yoongi x Seokjin [OT7]

↬ Summary: Every year students are tested to find what they are strongest in by the government, allowing them to direct what jobs the students will have once they graduate. Yuri is the only student at the top of every category which has only ever happened  twice, including her, in the history of her country. The day she gets her yearly test results her life turns upside down when she comes home to the murder of her parents, but she ends up getting an offer she can’t refuse by being recruited by a secret organization that keeps her out of the country’s orphanage. Once recruited into Topflight Academy, which trains young kids to take on secret missions sanctioned by the government, she earns a spot on the Academy’s elite team with seven other trainees which allows her access to more information than she ever thought possible. Yuri and her team begin to unravel the secrets of the very academy she thought had saved her. When the Academy realizes their secret is out and the team they trained goes dark, the government has to fight against the very weapon they trained to kill and disappear.

↬ Word Count: 2.2k

↬ Warning/Rating: M | mentions of blood, near death experience

↬  Genre: Mystery/Action

↬  Part: Teaser (future scene)

⦕fic tag request⦖ • ⦕masterlist⦖

“Suga for the love of god get control of this car!” Hoseok bellowed through clenched teeth as he tried his best to fight for control of the car.

“Ya! I’m working as fast as I can!” he said defensively, “JK is trying to get closer to you so I can hack into the car’s computer.”

“Yuri.” 

Her hand went to the ear piece and pressed it further into her ear so she could hear Namjoon’s voice more clearly, “Yeah?”

“Is there any room for you to reach under the steering wheel and pull the cover off?” His voice was calm which helped her nerves. She leaned forward once Hoseok had lifted his leg up into his seat using his left foot to try and help control the car. The car having to weave in and out in traffic was making it more difficult to get a secure hold on the panel. “Yuri?!”

“Jesus, she’s working on it.” Hoseok barked at Jungkook.

Planting her feet against the door and pushing onto the tips of her toes allowed her to grab the cover and rip it free. A sudden force from another car hit the door she was using and propelled her forward causing her to hit her head against the cover she had just removed. The broken pieces lay scattered around Hoseok’s feet, “Yuri! Fuck, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She said in somewhat of a daze. She shook her head forcing herself to focus, “The cover is off, what next?”

“Rip out all the wires.”

“What!?”

“What!?”

“What!?”

Yuri, Hoseok, and Jungkook were all shocked by his direction. Pulling out all the wires would essentially make the car inoperable, basically making them sitting ducks for the people chasing them. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Yuri could hear the anger in Jungkook’s voice.

“It will keep them from controlling the car. There are three options that you can choose for this, you can either wait and have us keep trying to hack the car when they keep trying to cut us off and run us off the road, you can abandon the front seat and strap in the back once you pull the plug on the car and force it to flip into the river ahead which will allow you to control every aspect of it, or you can wait until you find a good opportunity and jump from the car.” There was a pause, “The probability of a severe injury is high if you jump from the car though.” He added as an afterthought.

“So basically we get to choose how we want to die, wonderful.” Yuri said sarcastically.

Hoseok glanced over at Yuri once she was sitting back in her seat, “Shit, you’re bleeding.” It was only then that she felt something warm running down her face towards her eye. She wiped her hand across her forehead and wiped the blood on her clothes.

“I’m fine.” 

Hoseok kept looking back and forth between Yuri and the road ahead, “What do you wanna do?”

For the first time that night there was silence in her ear as they all waited for her answer, “Our highest probability is the Han River.”

Without saying a word he nodded and the familiar background noise from her earpiece came to life, “Alright, I’m letting HQ know the new plan. We’ve been through these scenarios before and how to roll the car as safely as possible. I can get Suga to send the coordinates and we’ll meet you guys there to grab you.”

The energy in the car had changed and the both of them felt their nerves begin to set in, “You go ahead and strap in.” Yuri nodded and climbed into the backseat as quick as she could and strapped herself in with the seatbelt. “How close are we?” Hoseok still continued to fight the car waiting for Yoongi to send the coordinates.

“Less than five minutes. I’ve sent the coordinates of the safest spot you’ll have and also programmed an alarm to go off to tell you when to pull the plug and set things up. We have both of your geopositions so we’ll know exactly where you are at all times.” Even though everyone had gone through this scenario during training it didn’t stop everyone from being on edge with anxiety and praying for a good outcome.

“We need to go radio silent so they think they’ve pushed us far enough apart. We’ll be able to lose the car we have on our tail and get there before you hit your mark. You guys be safe and we’ll see you soon.” Namjoon’s voice was the last thing she heard before everything went silent signaling that the two of them were all each other had until the car hit the water.

The touch screen in the car had their position on a map along with a countdown timer letting them know when to start preparing for their insane decision. Yuri was doing her best to keep herself calm which normally wasn’t an issue but she was looking at possible death right in the face. “Yuri, roll down the windows in the back. We’re coming up on our mark so make sure everything is clear for me to get back there and immediately strap in.”

“Got it.” Yuri leaned over and rolled down both windows in the back while Hoseok rolled down the windows in the front. The wind from outside was blasting her in the face and she was very thankful for deciding to braid her hair at the last minute knowing that if she hadn’t her vision would be obscured making it hard to assist Hoseok and keep him safe. The flashing of the quadruple zeroes paired with the beeping had her heart in her throat knowing the time was now. Hoseok looked in the rearview mirror and made eye contact with Yuri who nodded her head in determination while gripping her seatbelt tightly.

Hoseok punched the gas towards the floor putting as much distance between their car and the car chasing them before reaching under the steering wheel and grabbing a fist full of wires and jerking them out from the console. The entire car lurched and he turned the wheels towards the river causing the car to jump the curb and started down the descent to the water. Hoseok unbuckled and tried to crawl into the back but he was having to fight the rough terrain. He was being knocked around and Yuri began to panic thinking he wouldn’t be able to get strapped in before they hit the water.

Yuri unbuckled and gripped the headrest of the seat in front of her to try and keep herself steady. She reached forward and grabbed Hoseok’s shirt and pulled him towards her with all the force she could muster. Once he was in the back and on the other side she reached over and grabbed the seatbelt and handed it to him hoping he would be able to buckle himself. She started on hers but abandoned it after watching him struggle, so she helped him out and felt relief once she heard the click knowing it was secure. She leaned back and grabbed hers and Hoseok was doing his best to assist her. He glanced to the side to check how long they had before they hit the water. Knowing Yuri wouldn’t be able to buckle in time he called out for her while he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards his body. He did his best to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly while protecting her head with his arm.

The car hit a small boulder causing the car to flip multiple times. Hoseok did his best to hold onto her knowing he couldn’t let her go because with the windows open her body could easily be thrown from the car and that was something he refused to let happen. By the time they hit the water the only hold he had on her was her shirt which was now almost completely ripped off from the force of the car rolling. Once the car hit the water Hoseok knew he only had a few seconds before water would begin to rush in through the open windows. He was almost positive his arm was broken but he needed to make sure that Yuri was coherent enough to be able to hold her breath underwater.

“Yuri!” he yelled and his stomach sank when he didn’t get a response. He unbuckled his seatbelt so he could get a better hold on her and pull her closer now that the water was pouring in. “Yuri!” he slapped her cheek over and over trying to get her to come to. He grabbed her head to check her pupils but before he even got the change he felt something warm and slick, he pulled his hand away and saw blood coating his fingers. “GODDAMMIT YURI!” Hoseok was beginning to panic so he pulled her close enough so he could check to see if she was breathing. His body sagged in relief when he felt the hot air brush across his ear. Now his main focus had to be getting both of them out alive. The water was already to his upper chest and knew that they would have to hold their breath until the car fully sank beneath the water so they could escape safely.

Hoseok did the only thing he could think of which was to cover Yuri’s nose and mouth and hope to god he could get her to the surface before she ran out of air. Once the water hit their chin he covered her mouth and started to swim with her pushed in front of him. A piece of metal that was out of his view cut into her arm causing the water to go pink behind them as he continued to swim. His grip on her was becoming weaker as the pain in his arm got worse and he did his best to hold tight. His worst nightmare came true when she ran out of air and started to fight him and in the process slipping out of her shirt and taking a huge gulp of water into her lungs when she tried to breathe causing her body to begin sinking. Yuri was already in someone’s grasp before Hoseok could even attempt to try and grab her again. 

He hoped it was someone in the team because he was running out of oxygen and needed to get a breath of air before he could do anything else. Once he broke the surface he looked around frantically hoping to see Yuri come up to the surface right behind him. About ten feet from him he saw Jungkook break through the surface holding a lifeless looking Yuri. The dread that entered his body was ice cold and he swam frantically towards both of them while Jungkook continued to swim towards the bank under the bridge so they were out of sight.

By the time Hoseok was out of the water the entire team was surrounding Yuri and Jungkook while he tried to get her to breathe. “Yuri come on!” Jungkook pleaded desperately before leaning back down and filling her lungs with air. Jimin was working on compressions while Jungkook did everything in his power to try and save her. The rest of the team looked on silently with Taehyung pacing only to stop every so often to glance over and check on her. “Yuri, baby, come on. Please take a breath.” Jungkook was filled with relief when she started to choke. He turned her on her side and rubbed her back as she threw up water and whatever food had been in her stomach. He sat back on his hunches and sighed in relief once her eyes were open, followed by everyone else. Taehyung leapt forward and hugged her tightly mumbling incoherently against her skin. 

It was only then that Jungkook realized that Yuri was laying on the ground stripped down to just her bra, her shirt somewhere in the water, as everyone else looked on. “Jimin give me your shirt.”

The older boy was caught off guard by his request, “why?”

Jungkook stood and ripped Jimin’s shirt off his body causing the button’s to fly off in every direction, “Ya!” he looked at him in disbelief. Jungkook ignored Jimin and bent back down and helped Yuri sit up so he could help her slip her arms into Jimin’s shirt and close it around her. Jimin quieted his protests once he realized why.

“Let’s get her moved and back to HQ. Yuri and Hoseok need to go straight to the med bay once we arrive.” Namjoon said bringing everyone back into the present, “We don’t need to stick around any longer. Yoongi already heard the police call on the scanner before you even hit the water.” He said to no one in particular.

Note: There is no set release date to this fic yet, it is still a WIP but I hope to get it out soon and i’m just really excited about it. There are two links at the top that will take you to my masterlist and a form that will give you the option to be part of the tag list for this fic, that way when it is released and updated you don’t have to worry about it getting lost in the mass of posts in your feed.

[aelia-likes-monsters]

Patreon Teaser

A few things going on over on my Patreon this month. 

Ask a Monster - Ask any of my OCs questions. So far we’ve asked Alexander from Office Orcs about his ideal date, and Caleb from Lakehouse Lizardman about his favorite game with his siblings. I’ve got another couple questions in my queue. All patron tiers are eligible to ask questions.

Art - I’ve posted some art over there, and there’s some more scheduled. 

Stories - I’ve got a brand new story queued about the softest moth and some sandwiches, all 6600 words of Part One go live on January 21st at 9am Pacific. 

Next Month (Feburary 2020) I’ll be mailing out Valentines cards to my eligible tiers. I’m already plotting out how to make those special.

Before you stress too much, I’ll post my usual reminder that at this time no art/writing is exclusive to Patreon except the ability to participate in the prompts. Patrons just get early access to content. 

Below the cut I’ve got a bit of a preview of the moth story. CW for financial stress; it gets better, but it starts a bit rough.

It’s pushing midnight, and you’re sitting in the gas station parking lot crying softly to yourself. You’re counting your tips and then counting them again, as though the number is going to change and you’re magically going to have even another dollar. You know that’s not how any of this works, but you keep doing it with a silent urgency as you struggle to decide what to do. 

There’s a soft tap at your window. A hulking form fills the space outside, and you’d be scared, except you know who this is. It’s the attendant at the local-grocery-slash-gas-station you’re parked at. He’s a large, fluffy, humanoid moth, and you think he’s adorable. 

You’re mortified that he’s seen you like this. 

“I’m so sorry for loitering--” you begin as you roll down the window. You rub your hands quickly over your face, determined to look more composed than you are. 

It’s been a rough month. Rent had put your account in the negative, and you’ve only got enough cash to either eat or put a gallon of gas in your car to get home, but not both. Your stomach is growling, and you’re not sure whether you’d rather go home to empty cupboards or get something from the convenience store here and sleep in your car.

“That’s not why I’m here,” He says, his voice gentle, warm, and soft as always. 

“It’s not?” You ask, glancing around the empty parking lot. You’re pretty conspicuous; your car is the only one here, and you’ve been sitting here for an hour. He has every right to ask  you to move along.

“I wanted to check on you.” He tells you. “Make sure you’re okay.” 

With that, a fresh torrent of tears spills down your cheeks despite yourself. You sag forward against the steering wheel, and feel the leather press into your forehead. You were prepared for a scolding, but not kindness. It’s always that moment of kindness that does you in when you’re holding it together by a thread. 

You hear a trill of distress from him. 

“Look,” His voice penetrates your sobs. “You don’t need to tell me everything, but how about you come inside, sit down, have a snack and a cup of coffee, or cocoa or whatever you like from the hot drinks. It’ll help.” 

“I… I can’t afford it.” You admit. You hate that you have to say those words, especially to him. You like him a lot, had wanted to make a good impression on him. Be friends, maybe more. Now he’s seen what a disaster you are, and that fragile hope is crumbling.

“It’s on me. I insist.”

“But…” 

“You can come in and get it, or I’m bringing you cocoa and a cookie.” He says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard a stern edge to his voice. “It’s clear you need it, and it’s the least I can do for you.” 

“Oh.” You wipe at your eyes again. You think about arguing, but you’re hungry, and you’re exhausted. You’ll find a way to repay him later. “Okay.” 

He steps back to give you room to get out of the car, and though there’s nothing of value in there, you click the button to lock it anyway. 

Once inside, he quietly ushers you to the coffee counter, and looks at you expectantly. You glance from him to the machine, and press the button for cocoa. It’s too late, and you’re too wrung out to want caffeine right now. The machine dispenses cocoa into a paper cup. The moth grabs a container, and tops it off with mini marshmallows. Despite yourself, you crack a smile.

You can get instant access to all my Patreon stories by becoming a Patron. Tiers start at $1. Part one of the Moth’s story goes live on Patreon on January 21, 2020.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Odds Short Stacked Against

So, this was my very first commission!! for a user who wishes to remain anonymous.

The commission was for a short stack story about their OC named Gabe who’s a non-binary living doll. It was fun writing NB weight gain (and something I’ll do some for considering I need to write something for best NB Chinese emperor from fgo)

The commissioner asked for the work to be based off of another commission they got.

Thanks again so much for this!!!

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

Grumbling, Gabe slams their door close as they trudge back inside. Usually pristine clothes are instead tattered, holes and scratches littering their light pink shirt and teal shorts. Orange hair in a ponytail when they left the house, the style had come undone earlier from running for their life. Closing their eyes, they inhale deeply through their nose before breathing out of their mouth. Shoulders relaxed, Gabe immediately tenses up as they reach for the wooden charm placed at their hip. Yanking it off, the fabric keeping it tied tears, Gabe throwing it to the floor. They bare their teeth as they smile down at it, their right foot pressing firmly down on it. Crunching it under their heel, the wood audibly splinters apart. The awful purchase better off broken, Gabe dusts their hands with the deed done. Taking a confident step with their left, the broken wood offers the perfect opportunity for them to lose their balance, Gabe groaning as their ass hits the floor.

“Damn thing,” Teeth clenched, Gabe lets out a sigh. Dismissing the charm with their hand, they drag their feet. Worn out, they pay zero attention as they grab a broom. Sweeping the broken chunks of wood, Gabe discards them in the trash can. The charm’s parting gift revealed, Gabe stubs their right foot as they turn around.

“Ughhh!” Broom tossed against the wall before it ultimately clunks to the floor, Gabe stomps their foot. Their right foot. Pain still tender from stubbing it, Gabe purses their lips. Mentally counting to ten, Gabe adds another ten numbers. At twenty, they count to fifty instead. Unpursing their lips with a sigh, they push their matted bangs out of their face. Visibly recoiling from the gross foreign texture, the day’s grime becomes apparent.

Deciding a break to be the best course of action, they take a seat on a chair. A wooden one, dirtying a perfectly pretty chair on their already awful day would serve only to upset them even more. Hands on their bony thighs, they stretch out their legs. Leaning forward, their spine thanks them, the stretch appreciated by the sound of the resulting cracks. Sitting straight, they stretch their left arm, placing it behind their head before doing the same with their right.

“Okay,” Gabe mutters to themself. “I at least destroyed that stupid fake good luck charm,” Crossing their arms, they puff out their chest from the meager accomplishment.

Starting the day with a whim, a usual occurrence when it came to Gabe, they had decided upon waking up to visit Victor’s store. Victor an alchemist, Gabe’s intended window shopping quickly turned into real shopping once Victor had captivated them with his simple magic tricks. A puff of smoke popping up from mixing two round-bottom flasks, vibrant liquids bubbling despite a lack of heat, strange insignias never before seen, foreign body parts from even more foreign animals, they had all enticed Gabe. Yet Victor’s relaxed disposition had been the enticing nail in the coffin. Calm level voice hiding all sense of achievement and prowess, the nonchalant behavior as Victor confidently explained each item Gabe pointed to only added to Victor’s cool charm.  An alarming amount of said items allegedly dangerous when congested, Gabe’s proud proclamation of being a living doll only earned a simple raise of his brow from Victor.

The most fascinating of all was a small wooden carving of a Lily of the Valley, Gabe finding the small trinket adorable. Small runes carved into the back, the curves yet rigidity behind said runes had enchanted Gabe, the item already a certain purchase to them. Victor’s offered explanation of the item served their purpose, Gabe not bothering to haggle Victor upon the price, a serious overcharge. The item a good luck charm, Victor told Gabe of its mysterious properties, the item not offering a specific branch of good luck, but instead offering varying good luck depending on the day. Gabe a lover of the unexpected and brand new, an effective roulette of good luck seemed like the best invention ever.

Gabe’s pocket lighter than it was in the morning, Victor’s had ended heavier, Victor smiling to himself at the good luck being offered to all but the charm’s wearer.

No further than twenty feet away after their purchase, Gabe had the misfortune of stepping in mud, their shoes ruined. Growling sounding behind him, a wild dog had promptly chased after Gabe. Lithe figure adept in physical activities, not getting mauled further motivated him to run. Rushing through branches and shrubbery, their long silky hair kept getting snagged. Wasting time to unsnag it left them with the sole viable option of climbing a tree. Forced to wait an hour for the dog to leave, their slow trek back home ended with Gabe realizing they dropped their keys. Backtracking to find them taking an extra hour, the day was a horrid experience.

The charm obviously a fake, that led to Gabe’s current situation; tired and stewing in anger. Hauling themselves out of their chair, the chair left out, Gabe goes to complete their first objective, the act necessary to them.

A nice hot steaming shower.

Plush towel ready, they quickly discard their current scraps for clothing and toss them to the floor, the clothes too unsalvageable to even be placed in the hamper. Warm water ready, the fresh cleansing cascades down Gabe, Gabe leaning towards it. Standing still, they remain still for a couple of minutes, the rushing water hitting the floor the only sound. Having enough, Gabe reaches for the shampoo. Gently lathering their hair, they scrub their body of the day’s sweat and grime. The gross coating washing away, Gabe takes their time, the reminders of today disappearing. The last remnants gone, they step out of the tub. Clogging the drain, they wrap their towel as they rummage around. Bottles of varying scents and fragrances, Gabe pushes each one out of the way. Face lighting up, they snatch the bottles in the back.

Reserved for more trying times, Gabe generously pours epsom salt and lavender into the bath as it fills. The chilly air nipping at their wet skin, they dip a finger into the warm waiting bath, contentedly swirling the water as they bob their head. The tub generously full, they turn off the faucet. They place their towel on the counter. Stepping in, they slowly bring themselves down. Gabe sighs, their neck below submerged. Crossing their arms, they shuffle a bit, the water sloshing around them.

Sinking in, the cool porcelain tub barely feels there, their tub spacious. Eyes closed, they hum, their tired state aiding in appreciating the tepid water and the sweet subtle scent, the room also completely silent. Relaxing further, their shoulders sag, weight let go; their breath evening out, Gabe’s mind begins to wander as they drift asleep.

Cool air nipping at them, their revealing crop top leaves them bare to the chill of the night; Gabe rubs their arm as they survey the room. Wooden shelves, wooden floors, wooden desks, everything in the room is wooden with the exception of the corked bottles of various liquids housed inside. Some containing labels with descriptions, others contain labels with a single word while the rest offer no such thing, the container completely barren. No potion the exact same hue, the collection entrances Gabe as they reach for the nearest one. A puff of gray smoke appearing in front of them, Gabe recoils as Victor appears. Shorter than Gabe, his scowl still sends shivers down Gabe’s spine, Gabe keeping their hand to their chest. Swallowing the lump in their throat, Gabe shoves Victor to the side, a small “oof’ let out as his bum hits the floor. Uncorking the violet potion, Gabe shoves it in the disoriented Victor’s mouth. Grabbing the thrashing Victor’s arms, Gabe keeps him in place as the liquid drains down his throat. Grinning and laughing, Gabe smirks down at Victor as he lets out a small burp, Victor’s face flushed as he lets out a moan.

Gabe’s laugh slowly dies down as Victor suddenly appears closer to them. Victor still sitting on the floor, Gabe takes slow steps back as Victor rises. Victor standing up, his thigh reaches Gabe’s head; he leans down as he grins maniacally at Gabe. Another step taken, Gabe’s back hits the wall as their brain hits the unfortunate conclusion of being trapped with a giant Victor. Victor’s head reaching the ceiling, the wood splinters off as he outgrows that as well. Gabe gulping, clouds thunder above as a streak of lightning strikes somewhere off in the distance. Rain suddenly pouring, the water pools up to their shins, Gabe flailing as the water continues to rise. Shivering, the cold water soon reaches their chest, Gabe’s hair flat and sticky against their neck and back. The water quickly reaching their mouth, Gabe finds themself not rising with the water level. Spreading their arms, their attempts at swimming to the surface leave them stuck at the bottom, the water continuing to rise as they remain at the bottom. Choking, more water forces its way down their throat, Gabe’s eyes closing as the last of the air in their body escapes in bubbles.

Water falling out and hitting the floor, Gabe clenches the sides of the tub, water spat out of their mouth as they cough. Throat uncomfortable after several painful coughs, Gabe heaves, hands caressing their neck. Sharply turning their head, Gabe relaxes back into their tub as they realize they’re still in their bathroom. Turning their arm as they inspect it, skin barely beginning to prune from being submerged for so long prompts Gabe to uncork the tub, the water draining down as Gabe dries themself off. Furiously scrubbing their skin with the soft plush towel, Gabe storms off to their room. Opening the closet, Gabe cowers and ducks as an army of moths fly out and head for the window, all of them leaving. Raiding their own drawers, several of their clothes appear torn with holes. Blaming almost drowning and now this to the stupid charm, Gabe tosses and discards the fabric in their search for something wearable. Coming up with only one option, Gabe glowers at the innocent fabric. The outfit actually appealing to Gabe, the wardrobe doesn’t scream espionage to them. Sucking it up, they hurriedly dress themself.

Inspecting themself, they grin at being ready for some proper revenge. Perhaps with such a getup, Victor will feel even more stupid for getting what he deserves. A cyan button up crop top, the top is one of Gabe’s favorites. The four buttons each a suit of a deck, the little detail had caught their attention. The crop top also going up to their neck, the upper portion is composed of purple to help break up the solid one note collar, the purple and cyan broken up by a black line. The top form-fitting, the fabric neither wrinkles nor compresses their body, Gabe’s petite chest finely caressed in the fabric as his bare lithe stomach is shown for all to see. Low cut purple shorts on, the end of the fabric barely reaches past the underside of their ass, the fabric perfectly encircling the defined yet not overly filled cheeks. A garter belt underneath that, the black fabric holds up their tights; the tights filled with black and white diamonds, the very top of the tights lined with pink frills. Their hair styled, Gabe had gone with a less free look, putting their hair into double buns, the rest of their hair framing the sides of their face. Grinning to themself, they race out of their door, the crescent moon offering the perfect blend of cover and light. The cursed charm still on their mind, Gabe carefully watched their steps for anything that appears suspicious. Gabe eventually navigates back to Victor’s house with nothing but their own memory to guide them.

Walking around the perimeter, no light is visible, the sole inhabitant seemingly away or asleep. Back at the front, the first trial appears. A locked door. Gabe smiles as they pick the lock with ease, numerous escapades similar to this making them an expert when it comes to snooping. Carefully opening the door, they lift it up to ensure it doesn’t creak. Peaking, the living area is barren of Victor or any real sign of inhabitants really, only a few of victor’s materials lining the table. Gently closing the door, Gabe rubs their hands with a wide grin. Padding across the floor, they constantly turn their head to and fro, on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing turning up, they slither against the walls as they make their way into the hallway. A few doors lining the hallway, light snoring comes from their right. Hunched over, they tiptoe towards the source. Door open, Victor lies in the bed, his black hair splayed out as he sleeps. Forcing themself to not approach Victor and giving him a nice throttle, Gabe turns on their heel, carefully marching down the hallway. Coast clear, they peak their head into the other doors, pursing their lips as they come across mundane rooms such as a closet and a guest bedroom. The very last door at the opposite end of the hallway, Gabe slowly opens it, taking a glance inside. The goldmine found, Gabe holds back their snicker, hands thrown wildly in the air. Their brow furrows as the room appears near identical to their little dream turned nightmare. Potions once again a myriad of colors not used to seeing, each different in some aspect, Gabe hesitantly reaches out for the nearest potion once more. The potion the exact shade of vibrant violet as their dream, Gabe recalls the effect. Victor turning into a giant from the potion in their dream, Gabe shudders, imagining the real consequences of angering a giant alchemist. Scanning the other potions, Gabe lightly taps their right foot on the floor, the expansive options before them daunting. Hand on their hip, the potion, still in their hand, resting on their hip catches their attention. Idea forming, Gabe kisses the bottle.

If it turned Victor into a giant, then it should turn them into a giant as well! Patting themself on the back, Gabe uncorks the potion, swirling the contents in the flask. Ignoring any notion of strangeness from somehow perfectly envisioning Victor’s hoard of potions in their dream, Gabe chugs the potion. Surprisingly sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so, the watery liquid goes down smoothly, Gabe smacking their lips at the end. Burping, they blush as they bring a hand to their mouth. The flask let go of, it thunks against the floor, glassware absolutely fine.

Warmth filling the pit of their flat stomach, Gabe happily stares at the floor, expectantly waiting for it to appear more distant. Instead, they gasp as it feels closer. Neck uncomfortably rubbing against something, they bring their hands to their chest. Soft plush skin met, they pull back. Slowly bringing their hands back, the task a tad bit harder than it should be, the sensation remains the same. Two sizeable mounds for breasts fitting in their hands, Gabe gulps. Eyes widening, Gabe feels the heavy weight of their breasts increasing, their arms faltering. Their crop top filling out with breast, Gabe grimaces as the fabric cuts into their skin, the growing rolls of fat seeming more in number with more divots. The fabric slowly spreads apart where it buttons up, more of their fair skin becoming exposed. Their arms thickening slightly, the added adipose hanging off is insignificant to the jugs they sport. Chest welling up, the inner portions of flesh begin to press against each other, Gabe’s back straining to keep a straight posture. Slightly hunched over, Gabe huffs. Glancing down, they let out a whimper, their eyes making contact with only their billowing breasts as they continue to grow out further. Buttons digging into them, Gabe lets out a gasp as the cool air hits their nipples, the expansive areola now free from the crop top as their breasts splay out the side. Hands clinging to their breasts, Gabe’s fingers sink into them; their arms quiver under the crushing weight, their breasts surpassing the size of their head.

Too concerned over the heavy growth of their breasts, Gabe’s mind forgets about the rest of their body. Fingers widening a bit, the slim digits appear fatter, more akin to sausages. Their flat stomach also slowly fills out with fat, a small sliver of pudge protruding. The bit of pudge grows to a small overhang, the effect barely discernible with Gabe’s breasts sagging low enough to cover their stomach. Gabe’s thighs experience the second greatest effect of the potion, the deft flexible limbs widening and thickening. Bits of flab folding on itself and creating divots, the colossal thighs rub up against each other, Gabe unwittingly widening their stance every couple of seconds only for the extra space to be occupied soon after. Gabe’s shorts stretch to accommodate the needed room, the waistband utterly digging into them. Shorts rising up, the clinging fabric exposes more of Gabe’s meaty thighs, accentuating their size. Their fat pad presses against the front of their shorts, the bump noticeable. Gabe’s ass also growing, the once flat butt fills out as they also strain their shorts. Already having been slightly exposed, the lower portions of flab sag down as the shorts cut into them, Gabe’s ass also exposed at the top. Their shorts are akin to a headband for their ass, the middle portion of fat squeezed tight as the upper and lower portions ooze out.

As Gabe’s growth continues, they also begin to shrink. An impressive 6’2 unfitting for Gabe’s impish nature, their height diminishes, limbs contracting and shortening. Shrinking inch by inch, their overall area decreases, Gabe’s newfound weight becoming more compact and wider in return. Reaching a decent 5’7, Gabe’s height declines further, every piece of furniture becoming comically sized for Gabe. Shrunken more than a whole foot at an even five feet tall, Gabe’s proportions seem comical, their billowing fat overtaking their short frame. Shrinking down further, Gabe soon becomes nearly the same width as they are tall. Their breasts spread out wider than that, all of Gabe is overwhelmingly large at their new miniature four-foot stature.

Heavily breathing, Gabe’s breaths come out strained. Leaning over, their oversized breasts sag; Gabe digs their heels into the ground to avoid toppling over. Concentrating, Gabe struggles to stand up straight, Gabe groaning and panting to do so. Arms buckling, they take a tentative step forward.

Nearly falling again, their thighs chafing where a thigh gap once was, Gabe looks down. Unable to see anything but their breasts, they sigh. Unable to see, but able to feel, their thighs squish against each other. Ass offering somewhat of a counterweight, the amount is negligible to their breasts, Gabe desperately trying to push them up with their arms.

Looking up, Gabe groans as they realize their other predicament. Incredibly short, even the doorway feels far taller than it should. Looking behind them, the shelves lining the room feel impossibly tall, the task of grabbing them alone at this height difficult, with jugs the size of theirs, it feels downright impossible.  Warmth bubbling again, Gabe closes their eyes, whimpering. Bracing for another growth, the warm sensation travels up their body.

Instead, they let out another burp; Gabe unable to control the volume, it lasts for a couple seconds, Gabe positively red.

“So that’s what that potion does,” Victor thinks to himself as he stands in the doorway, his loud intruder having woken him up. Having to look up at Gabe this morning, Victor instead strains his neck to look down, Gabe’s head barely coming up to his chest. Examining Gabe, Victor keeps a straight face as Gabe appears more tits and thighs than anything, their tiny exaggerated hefty frame and hourglass figure hidden by their recent growth and pudge.

A shadow over them, Gabe trembles. Eyes wide, they look up. Caught in the act, they stumble to make a getaway. Thick thighs chafing, Gabe widely swings one to take a step. A hand on their shoulder, Gabe lets out an oof, wheezing.  Glaring at Victor, Gabe lets out a shriek as he pushes them back, Gabe’s hefty rump softening the impact. Their eyes widen as the floor noticeably shakes.

Victor conjuring up a clipboard, he scribbles on it.

His captor distracted, Gabe forces themself to stand. Breasts in the way, they press down into their thighs. Unable to stand up normally, Gabe places a hand on the floor. Jiggling back and forth for momentum, their body shakes, rolls of fat hitting against each other. A hand placed on their shoulder again, Gabe pauses. Victor looming over them, Victor has to kneel to even place a hand on their shoulder. He has another potion in hand.

Flipping the page, Victor titles it potion # 2, uncorking the bottle.

Gabe shifting uncomfortably, their massive mammaries wobble back and forth, slapping their gelatin-like thighs. Their shorts shift around their ass, loosening and tightening. Their awful luck from the charm catching up to them still, Gabe whimpers as the second bottle gets placed against their lips, Victor ready to write the effects for the first experiment of many.

[destiel-clowncar]

Family Ties- Chapter 1

Summary: Eden Winchester is Dean’s twin sister, younger by two minutes. Before her brother can sell his soul for Sam she does and after a year is thrown in the pit. Coming back four months later, how will her brothers react when it becomes clear she may need to return to save the world?

A.N- I’m also publishing this story on Wattpad. Hope you enjoy!

Pairings: sam/oc (Brother sister), dean/oc (brother, sister), Bobby/ oc (Platonic)

Warnings: general supernatural violence, some fluff.

Eden POV:

Flashes of pain and blood were all I could see, then, there were flashes of a white light, the warmth from the light settling into me and making me feel safe despite the situation. Something was happening. After the light reached me, there was darkness. Not normal night-time darkness. A darkness so deep it cut into the very fabric of my being.

The breath that suddenly came to me was foreign and had me choking on the dry air. How long had I been here? Realising very quickly I was in my grave I began to dig. Dad had taught us for hours on end how to do this. Remain calm, focussed and limit your breathing. At most I had half an hour.

Realising with some small sense of joy I was in a cheap wooden coffin, I felt around for any weak points in the wood. Locating it, I kicked it with all my strength allowing the dry earth to surround me. Thankfully it wasn’t wet allowing me easier movement and ensuring I could block my nose and mouth from the onslaught. Grabbing one of the panes of wood, I started to manoeuvre my way out of my grave.

Finally, I felt my hand breach the surface as the warm sun hit my cold skin. Pulling myself all the way through, I gasped gratefully as I collapsed on the solid ground. Turning onto my back I looked up to the sky then at my surroundings.

Which stopped me in my tracks. There must have been trees surrounding my makeshift grave but as things were now, they were fallen all around me in the perfect circle. Realising quickly, I had to cut my celebration short and find my brothers I began finding my way to a main road.

                                                                                         ****

After a few hours of trekking through the heat-soaked land, I managed to find an old dirt track that at least held the promise of civilisation. Finally, through the haze that came with the unbearable heat, I saw a gas station in the distance sighing in relief.

Making my way to the door, I saw the closed sign and my heart sank. After banging in the door frantically it was clear there was no one around. Realising what my next option was, I took off my shirt rolled it around my dirty hands and smashed the window open so I could get in. running over to the fridge I downed three bottles of water, not realising how dry my throat was until I had drunk.

Looking around, I saw a newspaper on the stand and saw the date, finally. Four months. Id been in the pit for four months.

Making my next stop at the grimy sink in the even worse bathroom, I finally washed the dirt from my face, revelling in the feeling of the cool water on my too hot skin. Eventually, I glanced up and looked at my reflection. Frowning as I realised that there should be tears in my shirt. I was ripped apart. Lifting my shirt to look at my abdomen, it was blank. None of my other scars visible. In fact thinking about it, none of the scars or marks id accumulated for years on hunts littered my body any longer. As I moved, I realised there was a pain on my left shoulder.

As I pulled up the sleeve slowly, I saw it. A handprint burned into my otherwise unmarred flesh.

Deciding to put that on the backburner, I walked back into the main building grabbing snacks and energy bars as I wasn’t sure how long itd be before I returned to my brothers. Throwing more water into the bag, I stopped by the magazine stand glancing over its contents, I found it. Deans favourite. Busty Asian Beauties- I figured I’d be needing a peace offering to convince him it was really me and not some demon that had crawled out of the pit.

Smiling happily with my plan I leaned over the counter pressing a button on the register feeling satisfaction when it pinged open and I set to my task. Before I got too far however, the tv next to the counter began flickering with static. Shutting it off, the radio began playing white noise.

Realising instantly what was happening I dropped my bag and ran to the salt. Instantly I began pouring it on the windowsill until a loud noise began. I couldn’t find where it was coming from, but it felt like my brain was on fire. Trying to stay to my task, the pain became too much as I had to drop to the ground and tried covering my ears as futile as that would be. Suddenly, the window smashed. As glass rained down on me, I quickly ducked my head down trying to avoid the sharp shards as they made their way down to me. Looking around, I decided it was best to run.

Outside the gas station, I used a hair tie I had found in there to get my hair out of my face. The long dark locks of hair sticking to me due to the heat. Making my way towards the phone booth just outside, I called Sammy’s number first only to get an alert tone. There was the same situation with Dean’s. then, I tried Bobby’s number. If anyone would keep their number, it would be Bobby Singer.

After one ring there was a gruff “Hello” from the other line and I had to choke back my sobs.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s me.”

“Who’s me?”

“Eden.” I said and instantly the line went dead much to my dismay. Hanging up the receiver, I put another coin in and dialled his number once more.

“Who is this?” He grumbled voice deep with anger.

“Bobby, you have to listen to me.” I exclaimed knowing how desperate I sounded and hating every minute.

“This ain’t funny. Call again, I’ll kill ya.” He said once again leaving me with the dial tone.

Sighing I hung the phone back on the receiver and looked around when my gaze settled on a beat-up white car. No Impala but it’d do.

“Well then, lets do this” I muttered to myself as I hotwired the car remembering how Dean had taught me. Grinning happily as the engine purred to life.

                                                                                         ****

Finally, I reached the familiar wooden porch some sense of normalcy returning as I banged on the door. As it opened, the familiar sight of Bobby was in front of me. Looking the same as always, I almost cried in relief that he was alright,

“Surprise.” I croaked looking up at him smiling.

“I, I don’t” he replied stuttering with suspicion clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, me neither but here I am.” I replied as I walked through the entryway ducking under his arms.

Suddenly, Bobby lunged at me, silver knife in hand slashing angrily at me. Grabbing his arm, I twisted it behind his back causing him to drop the knife. Not one to give up easy, he twisted out of my hold to backhand me. The sting of it shocked me.

“Bobby! Bobby, it’s me!” I yelled at him as he was getting ready to attack me again.

“My ass!” he growled.

Thinking fast, I grabbed a chair and shoved it between us at least buying me a few more seconds to convince Bobby I was me.

“Whoa! Wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife was possessed by a demon, and… you’re about the closest thing I have ever had to a father. Bobby. Its me.” I finished close to tears at the prospect of him not believing me but mercifully he lowered the knife. Placing a hand on my shoulder, I let my guard down. Seeing this, he slashed again but I was able to disarm him quickly.

“I’m not a shapeshifter!”

“Then you’re a revenant!”

Shoving him away, I grabbed the knife holding it out in front of me. “Alright, if I was either, could I do this with a silver knife?” I asked rolling up my sleeve and carefully slicing my arm with the blade. It was when I looked up, I saw the acceptance in his eyes.

“Eden?” he whispers carefully.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” I sighed out sagging in relief as he broke and marched over to me hauling me forward into a tight embrace.

Smiling happily into his shoulder, I returned the hug breathing in his familiar smell happy to be home.

“It’s good to see you again sweetheart.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“But how did you bust out?”

“I don’t know. I just, I uh woke up in a pine box and-“cutting me short, my face was drenched as Bobby threw holy water at me. Spitting out the excess I gave him a bitch face. “I’m not a demon either, you know.” I said sighing.

“Sorry. Can’t be too careful.” He said ushering me further into the house as he handed me a towel.

“But that don’t make a lick of sense”

“Yeah, you’re preaching to the choir.”

“Eden. Your chest was shredded apart, your insides were slop. And you’ve been buried for four months. Even if you could slip outta hell and back into your meat suit-“he said breaking off not wanting to finish that thought.

Nodding, I continued for him “I know, I should look like a thriller video reject.”

“What do you remember?” He asked quietly clearly scared of what the answer would be. It was there I decided it was best to bury it. They couldn’t know anything about my time in the pit. It would break them, and I couldn’t hurt my boys, not again.

“Not much. I remember I was a hellhound’s chew toy, and then… lights out. Then I wake up and I’m six feet under. That was it. Sam and Dean’s numbers aren’t working. They’re not… uh they’re-”

“Oh, they’re alive. Dean should be back soon. Sam. Who knows.”

“Good, that’s good… wait, what do you mean who knows?”

“Dean and I haven’t heard from him for months.”

“You both let him go off by himself?” I asked in shock voice beginning to raise. Before I could get any angrier the door opened and closed, and a familiar voice shouted from the hallway. Bobby looked to me and in a silent agreement, he went first.

“Hey dean.” He said from the other room ready to soften the blow that I was back.

“Hey, what’s with the new car outside? Want me to bring it round?”

“No. about that, the car isn’t one for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well an old friend came in it. She’s just in the other room.” He said cryptically and I could almost hear Dean roll his eyes before the loud stomp of his boots came to a stop in front of me. Looking me over slowly, it was clear he was frozen in shock but as I moved to go towards him, he broke out of his trance. Letting out an almost inaudible sob, he grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me into his hard chest.

Sighing against him, I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly as he sobbed into my neck. Shoulders sagging in relief the longer we hugged, the more relaxed he became.

“Hey De.” I said quietly hoping not to scare him away. There was nothing my brother loved more than to bury his emotions.

“Eden is it really you?” He asked turning to bobby for confirmation. Bobby nodded in ascent and Dean pulled me in for another bone crushing hug.

Pulling back, he held me at arms-length looking me over for any indication I was hurt as he often did after a long hunt. “How are you here?” he asked quietly.

“Funny I was gonna ask you the same question big bro. did you do this? What did you give dean?” I asked fear in my voice as I searched his eyes for any indication of what he had done.

“I didn’t do anything Eden, I swear. You know I promised I wouldn’t. I looked. Believe me I did. You were rotting down there. My twin, my little sister was in hell and I couldn’t do anything. And then Sammy left and-” cutting him off, I pulled him into another hug shushing him and rubbing circles on his back.

“It’s okay De, I believe you. Let’s find Sammy and bring the son of a bitch home.” I said pushing him away as I smiled to him and Bobby.

“One question, why did you bury me?” I asked realising it was a coffin I woke in.

“We both wanted you salted and burned. The usual drill. But Sam, he wouldn’t have it.” Bobby said as he got us all a beer from his fridge.

“Well, I am glad he won that one.”

“me too sweetheart.” Dean said managing to chuckle despite the situation.

“He said you’d need a body when he got you back home somehow.” Bobby continued causing me to whip my head around and glare at the pair of them.

“What in the hell do you mean?”

“He was quiet. Real quiet. And then he just took off.” Bobby replied looking down to his beer.

“He wouldn’t return any of our calls. We tried to find him, used every fake name in the book, but he didn’t want to be found.” Dean finished sighing

“Damnit Sammy.”

“What?” Dean and Bobby asked in sync

“he got me back alright. But whatever he did… it’s bad mojo guys.”

“What makes you so sure?” Bobby asked leaning against his desk.

“You should have seen the grave site. It was like a nuke went off. And there was this… this force a presence? I don’t know but it came for me while I was at a fill up joint. And then there’s this.” I said hesitantly lifting my left sleeve to show them the burn on my shoulder.

“What in the hell?”

“Son of a Bitch.” They both said at the same time. Standing up, dean made his way over to inspect it closer.

“It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out.”

“But why?”

“To hold up their end of the bargain.” I deadpanned a look of realisation dawning on both of their faces at the same time. For such skilled hunters they weren’t the quickest.

“You think Sam made a deal?”

“I would have. Hell I did.” I said quietly looking to dean, he nodded clearly on the same lines as me. “Anyway, lets get to finding our idiot.”

                                                                                         ****

“Yeah, hi, I have a cell phone account with you guys, and uh I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me- yeah. Name’s Wedge Antilles- social is 2-4-7-4. Thank you.” Hanging up the phone, Dean turned to me a puzzled look in his eyes.

“I searched for months and came up empty. How do you know this is it?” he asked

“I told him to use that name if ever he was in trouble and needed me to find him. It was a long-shot that payed off.”

Nodding his head, dean typed in the website and it started scanning for the location. As I wandered around Bobby’s living room, I noticed the amount of liquor bottles.

“Hey, guys? What’s with the liquor store? Your parents out of town?” I said smirking to them as I picked one up.

“These last few months haven’t exactly been easy.” Holding both of their gazes for a moment, I looked away guilty.

“Right.”

Then the laptop began beeping from its place on the desk causing us all to turn and stare at the bright screen. On it, there was a message next to a star on a map- ‘phone location: 263 Adams Road, Pontiac, Illinois.

“Sam’s in Pontiac.”

“Right near where you were planted.” Bobby said anger lacing through his tone again.

“Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence don’t you think?”

“Road trip?” Dean said leading me out to the impala.

Sighing in happiness, I made my way over to her. Shiny black metal looking as new as the day dad bought her. “Hey darlin’, I missed you.” I said quietly smiling to myself. Looking up I saw Dean’s knowing smile as we climbed in and the engine purred.

                                                                                         ****

Walking down the dingy hallway, I tried to suppress my anger. Wanting to at least hug my brother before attacking him for whatever deal he had made to bring me back. Finding his room number, we all looked at each other before Dean raised his hand and knocks. The door is opened by an attractive woman. Petite, dark hair and extremely underdressed.

“So where is it?” She asks looking from each of us expectantly.

“Where’s what?” Dean asked in confusion glancing to Bobby and me only to see us equally confused.

“The pizza… that takes three people to deliver?”

“I think we got the wrong room. Let’s go.” I said grabbing both of their arms as Sam walked into sight looking grim.

“Hey, is-” He said but broke off as his eyes caught with mine. Swallowing, he looked shocked from Bobby to Dean then back at me.

“Hey Sammy.” I said happily as I stepped into the room ignoring the hot woman. As I got closer however, Sam lunged at me knife in hand and the woman screamed from the doorway. As I blocked his attack, Bobby and Dean grabbed him by the arms and pulled him away from me.

“Who are you?” He yelled at me making me flinch at the anger in his tone.

“Like you didn’t do this?” I yelled to him unable to contain my anger anymore.

“Do what?” He screamed in confusion.

“It’s her, it’s her. I’ve been through this already. Its really her.” Bobby said panting as he attempted to restrain my giant of a little brother.

“What…” Sam asked starting to go slack in their holds.

“I know, I know Sammy. I look amazing right?” I said trying to bring some humour to break the tension in the air.

Bobby and Dean stepped back, and Sam looked like he was about to burst into tears as he stepped forward and pulled me into a bone crushing embrace. My head buried in his chest, I breathed in the familiar scent glad he was safe at least for now. Pushing me back to arms-length as the girl in the doorway took a breath.

“So, are you two like… together?” She asked hesitantly

“What? No, she’s my sister.” He said as we both scowled at the thought.

“Uh, got it. I… I guess I should get going.” She said making her way over to her clothes.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Sorry.” He replied apologetically as dean and I rolled our eyes at each other over his shoulder.

                                                                                         ****

Dressed and ready to leave, the attractive woman turned to Sam in the doorway, “So, call me?” She said hope in her eyes making Dean and I feel awkward enough to turn away.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing Kathy.”

“Kristy.” She corrects in disappointment as Sam hurriedly makes his reply and shuts the door, Dean and I erupt into giggles.

As Sam walked back towards the bed, Dean and I loomed over him arms folded with scowls on our faces.

“So, tell me, what’d it cost?” Dean asked setting the ball rolling.

“The girl? I don’t pay dean.” He replied chuckling

As neither of us laughed, and Sam realised that we were angry looking into our eyes, he frowned.

“That’s not funny Sam. To bring me back. What’d it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?” I asked at him tears starting to well in my eyes as the anger subsided.

“You think I made a deal?

“That’s exactly what we think.” Bobby replied gruff voice full of concern.

“Well I didn’t” he replied hotly.

“Don’t lie Sammy, just don’t.”

“I’m not lying.”

“So, what now? I’m off the hook, you’re on, is that it? You’re some demon’s little bitch boy? I didn’t want to be saved like this!” I yelled advancing on him the tears falling as I yelled angrily.

“Eden, I wish I had done it alright?”

Grabbing the front of his shirt, I yelled in his face, “There’s no other way this could have gone down. Now tell the truth!”

Pushing me away, he started tearing up a little, “I tried everything. That’s the truth. I tried opening the Devil’s gate. Hell, I tried to bargain but no demons would deal okay? You were rotting in hell for months. Months, and I couldn’t stop it. So, I’m sorry it wasn’t me alright? Eden I’m sorry.” He said trailing off at the end as he sat down. Sinking down next to him, I hugged him close comforting him.

“It’s okay Sammy. You don’t have to apologize, I believe you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m gladdened that Sam’s soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question.” Bobby interrupted.

“If he didn’t pull Eden out and I didn’t, then what did?”

                                                                                         ****

Re-entering the room, Sam headed towards Dean and Bobby sat on the couch handing them a beer each. Then, making his way over to me sat on the bed he handed me one sitting next to me slowly.

“So, what were you doing round here if you weren’t digging me out of my grave?” I asked him quietly

“Well once I figured out I couldn’t save you, I started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.”

“All by yourself? Who do you think you are? Your old man?” Bobby asked in an accusatory tone. Noticing a bra on the other side of the bed, I rose from the chair to go investigate.

“Yeah, sorry guys. I should have called I was pretty messed up.” Picking the bra up from the strap, I looked towards him accusingly

“Oh yeah, I feel your pain.” I said smirking at him knowingly.

“Anyways, uh, I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left and booked up here.”

“When?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“When I busted out.”

“You think the demons are here because of you.” Bobby acknowledged nodding his head.

“Some badass demon drags me out of the pit and now this? Gotta be connected somehow right?”

“How you feeling?” Bobby asked cautiously

“I don’t know, a little hungry?”

“No, I mean are you feelin’ yourself? Anything strange or different?”

“Or demonic? How many more times do I have to prove I’m me?”

“Yeah, well listen no demon is letting you free out of the goodness of their heart. They’ve gotta have something nasty planned.” He said rolling his eyes at me.

“I know a psychic. A few hours out. Something this big maybe she’s heard the other side talking?” he added hopefully.

“Hell yeah, worth a shot.” Dean exclaimed looking to me for affirmation. I nodded and bobby fished his phone from his pocket.

“Ill be right back.” He said leaving the room to call.

“Wait. Hey, Eden. What- what was it like?” Sam stuttered

“What hell? I don’t know. I don’t remember a damned thing. Must have blacked it out” I replied lying through my teeth but hoping they bought it. I couldn’t pile that burden on top of them.

Sam nodded and I breathed a silent sigh of relief, “Well thank god for that.”

“Yeah.” Dean and I said at the same time.

                                                                                         ****

Glancing into the bathroom mirror, I had flashes back to my time in the pit. The screams filling the place, hooks with torn flesh all around me and the empty feeling deep in your soul. Managing to snap out of it, I ran water over my face.

Walking out of the motel room, I caught up with my brothers and Bobby as they descended the stairs.

“She’s about four hours down the interstate. Try to keep up.” Bobby said nodding for me to go with the boys.

“I assume you want to drive sweetheart? Since I drove here and all.” Dean asked smiling to me.

“Definitely” I replied crawling into the driver seat as Dean slid into the passenger seat with Sam in the back.

“Ready boys?” I asked starting the engine and racing out of the parking lot following Bobby to the psychic’s house.

Half an hour into the drive, I looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror, “There’s still one thing bothering me.” I said glancing from brother to brother.

“Yeah?” They both said in sync being pulled from their deep thoughts

“Yeah. The night I bit it… or got bit. How did you guys make it out? I thought Lilith was going to flay you.”

“She tried and she couldn’t.” Sam said quietly

“What the hell do you mean?”

“She fired this burning light at him, and it didn’t even leave a scratch like he was immune.” Dean said

“Immune?” I asked in disbelief trying to mull this over in my mind.

“Yeah, I don’t know who was more surprised us or her. She left quickly after that. Didn’t even try with Dean, just went.”

“And what about Ruby?” I asked hesitantly not really wanting the answer if it was going to be one I disliked.

“Dead. For now.” Sam said a hint of finality in the air.

“So, you’ve been using your freaky ESP stuff?” Dean asked casting a sidelong glance to me.

“No”

“You sure about that? Well, I mean now that you’ve got immunity or whatever the hell it is. Just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap have you got going on?” I asked trying to make sure he wasn’t lying to us.

“Nothing. Look Eden, you both didn’t want me going down that road, so I didn’t. it was practically your dying wish.”

“Yeah, well let’s keep it that way.” I said causing Sam to get all broody in the back seat.

[breakingdownsu]

Messy Jobs

Author's note: I've decided I'm going to continue with the Orthoclase and Pearl stories as a set of one-shots, I like writing them more than I thought I would. Although they are technically OC's of mine, feel free to borrow them to do whatever with.

Obligatory request to check out my novel on Amazon: The Hothouse Princesses by S.A. Hemstock. If you like the work I do in fanfiction you may like my original work, it runs on similar themes.

…..

“Has anyone ever told you...”

“Yes,” Orthoclase said with a brittle smile. “Yes, they have.”

She turned quickly on her heel as the shop worker gave her her change and stomped off, Pearl rushing daintily behind to keep up. She'd been in a good mood at the start of the cycle, but it was ruined now.

“I need a rejig,” she growled back at Pearl, slowing down to keep pace with her. “Think you can do it?”

“Of course,” Pearl agreed.

Pearl was dependable, above all things. Most of the rejig stations refused to change up Orthoclase's mass more than once an orbit, for fear of cracking her gem, but Pearl did it whenever she was asked to and with considerably less decent equipment. A new set of apparel and hopefully nobody would compare her looks to Yellow Diamond again for, oh, at least another three orbits.

Being a rare gem was such a struggle sometimes.

Of course, once they got back to the workshop there were a whole lot of job messages waiting on the holo-form. Orthoclase scanned them and sighed.

“We would get the complicated ones now,” she said, rubbing at her gem setting. “Forget the rejig, we can do it later.”

…..

The first job was given by an Aquamarine, and if there was one kind of gem Orthoclase hated more than Yellow Diamond, it was Aquamarines. Imperious little twits, all of them. This one apparently wanted her pearl to be made smaller, like the newer models. She didn't want to spend the money to get a new one and there was information on the old one she needed intact. That meant a gem shave was out of the question and they'd have to whittle down the pearl's manifested body.

“You don't much like these ones, do you?” Orthoclase asked when she picked up the pearl from the drop-off point.

“I don't have any strong feelings about it,” Pearl answered, as vague as ever.

“Right,” Orthoclase scoffed. “Might as well get it over with. Start jamming the circuits.”

Pearl used a pulse applicator to stun the pearl's gem into a sedated state while Orthoclase used a scalpel to slice neatly through its skin, peel back the thin layer of muscle and locate the first sets of framework in the chest. There were more set frames in the chest than anywhere else on a pearl, those were always the ones she got out of the way first.

Using a suspense wire, she shaved away the frames in the chest. Pearl caught the shavings in a sheet underneath, a process that always involved submerging her elbows in green nacre-rich blood. It was one of the reasons Orthoclase guessed she didn't like jobs like these, but she wouldn't admit to it.

“Read me back the dimensions again,” she said, testing the width of the newly-shaved frame.

“5 by 16, 4 by 8.”

Orthoclase swore, and shaved another layer off of the chest.

“Aquamarine had better not stiff us on the payement,” she snarled into the pearl's open chest. “Anyone else would have snapped it by now.”

“If you didn't want to do it you should have said no,” Pearl told her.

That impertinance would have gotten her slapped or even processed in a normal household, but Pearl had the luxury of being owned by someone that liked a touch of honesty in her dealings, illegal though they were.

“And if I said no, she'd have gotten someone else and then game over for this pearl,” Orthoclase replied with a shrug and a rueful smile. “You could be thankful.”

“I could,” Pearl said, which was as close to a thanks as Orthoclase was likely to get.

Pearl held the legs down as Orthoclase shaved down the frames; they were likely to kick or twitch even with the pearl unconcious, and reducing the size of the feet without snapping them off was a nail-bitingly careful task.

The arms were simple enough, but because they were snipped from the elbow down a new elbow had to be created further up, and to do that a hinge had to be put between the framework in the stump. Pearl mass was prone to rejecting foreign objects (except for the spike) and the gem would have to be 'tricked' into thinking it was part of the whole.

Once the body was done, the head had to be reduced only a little (the large head on a small body was endearing to some customers) but it still meant the skin had to be peeled away to get at the head frame. Little sections that controlled the pearl's expressions had to be nipped, prodded and sewed into place to stop the face from sagging. Even the optics had to be reduced by a fraction.

By the time Orthoclase was finished, her arms ached and creaked from holding them so tense. Pearl was splattered in blood from shoulder to knee. Orthoclase dismissed her so she could take a distillery wash while she herself ran the stimulation machine that set the pearl mass conditions permenantly. The pearl released its form, and when it reformed it was more than half its original size.

“Almost the same size as your owner now,” she told it, holding up a small reflector in front of it. “Happy?”

“Yes,” the pearl said agreeably, though as with all the pearls she had worked on she couldn't tell if it was genuine.

Orthoclase sent it off as soon as possible, and prepped her workshop for the next job.

“I could make you shorter if you want,” Orthoclase offered as soon as Pearl was out of the distillery. “Cuter, maybe.”

“No thank you,” Pearl replied, as always.

…..

There was something suspicious about the next pearl, from the very moment they brought it back from the drop-off. It looked too....clean. It didn't look like a remodel was needed in any way.

“Who gave the job?” Pearl asked, taking one look at Orthoclase's face and figuring out what she was thinking in a way that made Orthoclase very envious.

“A Kunzite,” Orthoclase mumbled. “I did a tracer check, there's nothing in there. But it doesn't feel right.”

“Would you like me to operate?” Pearl asked.

“Maybe,” she answered, scanning the remodel pearl up and down. “It's a response retooling, kindgergarten-grade stuff.”

Orthoclase watched Pearl connect to the remodel remotely, her fingers flying across the mainframe rooting through code. None of the code looked out of the ordinary, until....

When Pearl suddenly disconnected, blacked out the mainframe and practically threw herself across the room away from the remodel. Orthoclase reacted instantly, wiping the mainframe and shutting the tools away in her purpose-built snap-casing.

“Where is it?” she hissed to Pearl.

“In the subspace,” Pearl hissed back. “It tried to connect, I think I stopped it in time.”

Figures. Gems rarely used the subspace, most didn't even know it was there. But nobody had ever thought to put a tracer in there before.

“I could root it out and reset it somewhere else,” Pearl continued, her hands flapping anxiously (this being one of those rare occasions when Pearl lost her composure), “Or I can clean sweep it before they...”

“Pearl,” Orthoclase said sternly, laying a hand on her shoulder. “What do I always say at times like this?”

“Um, don't panic?” Pearl mumbled.

“And what are you doing right now?”

“....panicking.”

“Yep,” Orthoclase said as she got up, strode with purpose towards the remodel pearl and grabbed a tool from around her waist. “We're going to fry the place. Get ready to run.”

She jammed the probe into the setting of the remodel pearl's gem and sent a crackling ball of energy coursing through it. The pearl released its form and Orthoclase pocketed it as Pearl gathered up the workshop to store in her subspace. They tossed a can of propofil gas into the middle of the now-empty workshop and placed a flare beside it. After a while, the heat would destroy the room and whatever evidence was left.

On the way to the new workshop, they tossed the pearl into a culvert, where it would reform and be picked up by the impound at least one cycle later.

…..

About four jobs into the new workshop, a barracks pearl came to them.

Orthoclase was dreading this one (and she was somewhat certain Pearl was too) because barracks pearls were almost always in bad shape and some were even beyond Orthoclase's skills. Financially, she was able to turn them down but she had a feeling Pearl wanted her to take them even though they both hated the barracks jobs.

However, when she got the pearl back to the workshop and examined it, it looked to be in decent shape. Not shop-perfect, but remarkably whole for a barracks pearl.

“Guess this one's owners managed a little restraint,” she laughed, prodding the remodel pearl gently with a somatic rod. “Colour me surprised.”

The instructions were sparse, they just said they had returned from an offworld mission and wanted the pearl looked over for damage. Naturally, having a pearl on the barracks was illegal so they couldn't go to a legit pearl maintanance centre.

Orthoclase checked over the pearl's inner workings, tested its range of motions, inspected its code and noticed nothing amiss. Its fingers were a bit twitchy, but otherwise....

“Get back!”

Pearl's little cry caught Orthoclase so off guard that she went rigid, so she was easily moved when Pearl threw herself across the room and barreled into her, knocking her up against the wall.

“What the....” she about managed to sputter, but the words died in her throat.

Pearl had found a scalpel and was digging it hard into the remodel pearl's gem. Her arm was locked around the remodel's chin, her knees digging into the remodel's shoulder. A high-pitched whine was building in her throat, Orthoclase could almost hear it....

….no, it wasn't Pearl making that sound....

She wasn't a combat gem, she had never encountered a zoatox in the field, but she had heard them from far away, that distinctive scream that made any sensible gem terrified.

A small beige object came hurtling out of the remodel's gem, it twisted three times and scurried with alarming speed in the direction of the door. The unnatural way it moved had Orthoclase too stunned to react.

Pearl did not have that problem. She crossed the room in one single, astonishingly graceful, leap and caught the thing by what looked like its tail. Her fingers were lacerated and oozed blood but she held it firm enough to stab it repeatedly with the scalpel. When it stopped moving, she grabbed the nearest polymer barrel and crushed it until she was sure there was nothing left.

“Holy Core, mother of us all,” Orthoclase murmured, brushing her hair back with her trembling hands. “Was that...”

“Yes,” Pearl answered, calm but grim.

“Is there any....”

“No, there was only one.”

“You sound certain.”

“I am certain.”

“That's good enough for me,” Orthoclase sighed. The relief was making her feel weak.

They were able to send the pearl back with a clean rating. For cycles afterwards, Orthoclase brought up the fact that they had probably saved Homeworld but nobody would ever know.

“I saved Homeworld,” Pearl would insist a little snippily. “You just watched me.”

“There'd be nothing to save if I hadn't endangered us by bringing it here in the first place, right?” Orthoclase would reply.

…..

After nearly sixty cycles, she finally got around to her rejigging. Looking in the reflector afterwards, she had to admit Pearl had done a good job. Her hair was shaggy, still a punkish look but not stuck in the rigid lines of the Orthoclase type, her colour was less of a bold shade and more of a white with a yellow undertint, her eyes were enhanced to make them appear turned in at the corner and her apparel was a slapdash mix of tight clinging mesh with draped-over half-torn cloth. Hard-wearing but messy, exactly what she needed.

“You should get a rejig next,” she told Pearl. “At least lose the tail, it's prissy.”

“No thank you,” Pearl replied.