#the owner came to feed and water them and she was SO grateful for my help

[lannisterdaddyissues]

socialized a feral kitten while volunteering at the animal shelter today and i am so proud of myself :')

[bethanydelleman]

How do you think each Austen heroine would react to getting a dragon?

This is not exactly what you asked for but this is what you are going to get:

When Fanny Price found a dragon's egg in the shrubbery of Mansfield Park, she was surprised. Dragon's eggs were said to only appear to the truly pure of heart; she did not consider herself to be particularly virtuous. Especially not now, she had frequently found herself extremely and unforgivably jealous. Yet it must be a dragon's egg, it was hot to the touch though no mother was there to warm it. It was dark green and felt like a smooth stone. She knew it was unbreakable and could only be hatched in a fire.

Her room had no fire.

She went up to the East Room and tried to decide what to do. Only the pure of heart could find a dragon's egg, but anyone could raise it. She could sell the dragon. It would be enough money to change her entire family's lives. They were found so rarely, she had read that the Prince Regent had paid over £100,000 for his dragon. Could she really be so selfish as to keep it?

And yet...

Was it really right to sell such a precious gift? Dragons, once full grown, were incredibly powerful. Once she decided to sell it, how could she ensure that it fell into the right hands? She felt in her heart that she ought to keep the gift that was given. The dragon had come to her, it must have come for a reason.

She knew that once it was hatched, it would pair with the first human it saw forever. Dragons died with their paired human. Once it was hers, there was no going back.

Ignoring the fact that she was a poor dependent who had no right to incur further expenses and telling herself that it would be easy to feed the dragon while it stayed small; she came up with a plan. She gathered wood from the forest, she took coals from another room during the night, and she lit the fire in the East Room.

The next morning, Fanny had a dragon. She named her Geranium.

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

"Fanny, where are you sneaking off to?" Mrs. Norris demanded, "The roses must be cut, they are in full bloom."

"I will return presently," Fanny said, hiding the cold meat she had taken at breakfast, "I need to water my geraniums."

Mrs. Norris suffered her to go, muttering about why a girl like Fanny should even have geraniums and the great indulgence to her that was the East Room. One listening might have thought it was the best room in the house, instead of an unused former schoolroom that Fanny had made into a small nest of comforts.

Fanny nearly ran up the stairs, Geranium was waiting for her, dark green, with folded scaled wings, and about the size of a small dog. She nestled close to her owner and gulped down her breakfast.

"I need to find a way to buy meat myself," Fanny said softly as she pet Geranium, "but I have nothing to sell and almost no money."

She looked at the work boxes that Tom had purchased her over the years. She had too many, but how to sell them? And would not Tom be insulted if he knew she had sold his gifts? She shook her head. Someday she would find a way to pay Sir Thomas back for what she had taken to feed her precious dragon. She did not guess that the small amount of food she had taken was not even noticed by the family.

"We cannot go out together today, little one," she said, "aunt Norris wants me to cut the roses. Tomorrow I hope. The mare has gotten used to you now."

Geranium seemed to understand, she curled herself up on the empty fire grate and fell asleep.

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

Geranium had been trained since birth to hide in the chimney whenever anyone knocked on the door. Fanny was always anxious that the dragon would be noticed. Once she grew too big, what would Fanny do then? Fanny tried not to think about it, for she had no answer.

There was a knock at the door, Miss Crawford entered.

“Am I right? Yes; this is the East room. My dear Miss Price, I beg your pardon, but I have made my way to you on purpose to entreat your help.”

Fanny, quite surprised, endeavoured to shew herself mistress of the room by her civilities, and looked at the bright bars of her empty grate with concern. Geranium was out of sight; she was safe.

“Thank you; I am quite warm, very warm..." Mary stopped and stared at the fireplace. Her script falling from her hands. "Is that a dragon? Miss Price, do you own a dragon?"

Fanny glanced back in horror. Geranium was peeking out, upside down from the top of the fireplace. Her deep green scales plainly visible against the light grey stones. "Yes, I do," she said honestly. Understanding this as encouragement, Geranium leapt out of the fireplace and flew into Fanny's arms.

"She is so young," Mary said, petting Geranium tentatively. The little dragon, cat-like, happily thrust her head closer to Mary's hand and let out a small appreciative sigh of fire, which fortunately Mary was prepared to dodge.

"Have you seen a dragon before?" Fanny asked.

"Yes, many of them. There are a fair number of admirals with dragons. My uncle was always disappointed that he never managed to purchase one. I even met the Crofts and their dragons once. I am sure you have heard of them?"

"My brother William met them, both Admiral Croft and his wife found their dragon eggs if I remember correctly. He said they always travel together."

"Yes, and my uncle wishes he could have had a share of their honour and prize money," Mary said dryly, "but why is she hidden in here?"

Fanny was uncertain of what to say, she still was not entirely sure that she had been right to keep the dragon. "I only found her recently," she said at last.

"If I found a dragon...," Mary said wistfully, "Well I'd hardly keep her hidden. She'll grow quickly enough, you know."

Fanny nodded sadly, "I have no notion of what I will do then," she admitted.

"Why not tell your uncle?" Mary asked, "Fanny, to be the owner of a dragon, that is far better than my twenty-thousand pounds. You could marry a peer!"

"I would not wish to marry for control of my dragon. It is wrong to marry without love," Fanny said softly.

Mary remained mesmerized by the little creature, she had quite forgotten why she came up in the first place. A knock at the door roused them both. Geranium fled back up the into the chimney and Fanny welcomed in Edmund. He had come to practice Act III with Miss Crawford.

"Let us go downstairs to read it," Mary said, with a wink at Miss Price.

Fanny looked at her with imploring eyes, Mary took her hand before quitting the room and whispered to her, "Your secret is safe with me."

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

Mary did intend to be the soul of discretion, however she considered Henry to be just as trustworthy as herself and as he was her dear brother, he must be told.

"Did you know that Miss Price has a dragon?" she said when they were walking to the great house, the day they were meant to practice the first three acts.

"Miss Price? What do you mean?"

"The dragon is hidden in her room," Mary said, "And a very young dragon, she must have been hatched recently."

Henry only said, "There is far more to that girl than meets the eye."

Then they arrived for the rehearsal, but Sir Thomas spoiled all their plans.

---------

Henry Crawford did not leave Mansfield, but his manner towards Maria became so indifferent that she was forced, in only a few days, to acknowledge that all her hopes had been in vain. His attention was now focused on their cousin, a circumstance which Maria and Julia could not determine if it was was more strange or vexing.

Maria accepted an early wedding date with Rushworth to escape her mortification and Julia accompanied her to Brighton, after a few final attempts at enticing Mr. Crawford. They were both jealous of Fanny. It was a jealousy that neither of the sisters ever thought they would feel towards their cousin. If they had only known all!

Mr. Crawford was not a mercenary man despite his other faults; his interest in Miss Price had at first been born of curiosity. Dragon eggs were so rarely discovered and he knew as well as anyone that they were only discovered by the pure of heart. He had never had the chance to observe someone like that up close; all the people he knew intimately who owned dragons had purchased them.

The more he came to know Miss Price, the more he appreciated her character, her morality, even her beauty. He wanted to marry her, and yet how could he be worthy of such a woman? She was perfection. And she had a dragon.

---------

Fanny had not seen William for nearly eight years, she was delighted beyond expression when he came to visit. It was not only for herself, she hoped that he would be able to advise her as to what she should do about Geranium.

The little dragon was growing quickly. It was fortunate that no one went to the East Room, because she no longer fit in the fireplace. Fanny now read curled up and warm, nestled with her sofa-sized dragon whenever she had a moment to herself. Geranium barely fit out the window to hunt for dinner on Sir Thomas's lands. Fanny felt her debt, but what could she do? One day she would repay her uncle for his lost game.

William was the one she finally told about her good fortune. And he had a plan. Unfortunately, before Fanny had worked up the courage to tell her uncle about their notions, Mr. Crawford proposed.

Fanny refused and in so doing, Sir Thomas learned of his niece's good fortune.

Fanny and William left Mansfield together. The newly promoted Captain Price and his dragon-wielding sister joined the West Africa Squadron and spent the rest of their days freeing slaves and burning slave traders to a crisp. Neither of them ever married, but they were always happy together.

Edmund married Mary Crawford and was unhappy because he had been far too blind to realize that they were not very compatible.

Maria didn't elope away from her husband, something she kind of regrets because he's the worst.

Julia married someone other than Yates, trading on her famous cousin.

The Prices were eventually as rich as lords with all of Fanny and William's prize money.

One day Mrs. Norris was incinerated. No one knows who did it.

Henry Crawford was so struck by Fanny Price that he became pure enough of heart that he found his own dragon, but that is another story...

---------

Bonus: Newspaper headline reading, Man Consumed by Flames Outside London Party, Unknown Dragon Owner Suspected.

Mr. John Willoughby of Combe Magna....

[a-regular-ol-pill]

hey heyy i just found ur blog and i already love it! i was wondering if you could make an aamon x reader x gusion nsfw oneshot? (f! reader please)

thank you so so much<33

"Tell us, tell us that you want it."

Mobile Legends; Bang Bang

Pairing; Aamon, You | Gusion, You | Aamon, You, Gusion

!! NSFW 18+ !!

Requested? Yes.

Small note for requester; I'm glad you found my blog and love it! In this one, the reader will be having... a hard time adjusting much. If you get what I'm saying. ;)

Want to request? Click here.

Word Count; N/A

Second Person Perspective.

Pronouns used for reader; 'She', 'Her', etc...

Prompt;

"Working as an armorer has some traits. Getting a lot of praise, and gold, working with higher-up's that offer you enough benefits. Making the two Paxley brothers love you— wait, what?"

Making firm armor for the Paxley brothers has always been a weekly routine. Show up at the shop, greet them, small chat, and sometimes stay over for dinner if you feel worthy enough to dine with them. Most of the time, you do end up eating at the same table with the Paxley's, seeing as your fine work of weapons and armour helped increase the chances of victory in battle.

The common thing about the weekly routine in the Paxley's, was that— you were offered the invite from the eldest brother. Aamon, who was; Currently the one that runs everything in the House Paxley. You weren't sure who informed him about your craftsmanship, but you were damn grateful for them. You earned a lot of gold, and was able to feed your siblings from then on.

One question you needed an answer to was; 'Why are they treating you like you're family?' —Hell, the routine was the most loved you've ever felt, outside of whenever you hung around with your siblings. Though, the feeling of love was different with your siblings, and different with the Paxley's. Different in a way that you can't explain. It was more prominent with the two elder brothers. Aamon, and Gusion.

The way they looked at you— the way they thanked you for everything that you did.. It always left a funny feeling in your stomach. When they look at each other after you felt that feeling, it made the feeling worse. They were communicating telepathically— with you having no way to figure out what they were thinking.

Hell— Even when you weren't looking, you could feel them staring holes into whatever part of your body they're looking at. After a few more incidents that you felt uncomfortable, you decided to skip week when they requested you. Instead— you decided to test your limit, and take care of your little sibling while working in an armory shop.

Bad idea. You barely remembered how things escelated, but now— You and your sibling are covered in thick layers of charcoal dust from when you were transferring it to the furnace. A few passer-by's took a glance, and immediately rushed your sister out to look for a water source. Having been affiliated with those passer-by's before— you let them walk your sibling and decided to clean up the place before the shop owner came back.

"I do not want to be yelled at.. again." You said to no one in particular, grabbing a bucket and rushing to the water hose that was imbeded into the ground. Your fingers and hands made quick work in filling up the bucket, and you ran back to the shop. Little do you know, a certain brother was watching you— On his way to call his brother so they could possibly pry answers for you.

Of course, you were blissfully unaware, having been able to enjoy the cleaning because of the soft sponge and firm duster that was provided in the back closet. Half-way through cleaning the whole shop, a small thud on the entrance made you glance up from your hunched over position— You were confused when you saw nothing but a small reflection from the mirror that faced the anvil.

After the long pause, you were suddenly aware of how uncomfortable the dust felt on your skin. Grabbing the; now empty bucket. You were about to rush out to wash off the dust, until you were pushed back. The pain in your face made you reach up to rub it, while you heard footsteps. "Oh, what happened to you?" You froze at the sound. Why was Gusion here? Were you gonna get in trouble for refusing his brother's request?

Well. All your stress went away when your hands were pulled back from your face. Your self conciousness rising after you felt a hand on your nose.

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to hurt your beautiful face." Aamon leaned close to your face, unaware that you could feel his hot breath fan over your face. "We should help her clean up, Gusion."

You tensed up, clean you up? Why would the formal Aamon use words like that?! Unless of course— he purposely did that. Which wasn't far from the truth. Aamon knew what he wanted from you, but unfortunately for you— You don't. After awhile of Aamon helping you relax your face, you heard a soft thud— and water splashing near your dust covered boots.

"Careful! It'll be a waste of water." Aamon scolded his brother's ignorance for the water. Which Gusion laughed at, for no apparent reason. "Come on, open your eyes, we're not mad you weren't in the house." Gusion's light-hearted voice eased you to do as he said. Eyes meeting with the one and only— Duke Paxley.

"You're not..?" You asked, shivering at the feeling of cold water running down your back. Suddenly, you were well aware that Gusion was behind you— probably judging you because of your slouched posture. You hoped not.

"Of course we aren't, you know. Aamon literally watches you while you take care of your siblings— Like a creep." Gusion laughed, lightening the stress to your tense body. This was something you admired about them— Aamon eases your feelings, while Gusion eases your body. They were like polar opposites that get along so well.

"Don't tell it like that, I do watch her. But only because I'm interested in how she handles kids." Aamon argued, one hand leaving your face to hand you a cup, and push the bucket of water near you. That's when you realized that he wasn't sure if you were comfortable in him cleaning you up. Even though he was the one that suggested it.

You grabbed water with the cup and used it to wet your hair. Gusion pulled back a little, waiting for the water to stop befor resuming to clean up your back— Aamon just watched, eyes travelling to wherever, like when he did back at the house. "Mhm, as if you aren't thinking about living a life with her, have kids, even." You choked on your spit at what Gusion said.

You even looked up at Aamon for confirmation— and the look on his face confimed what Gusion said. "Seriously..?! You're joking right?" You asked, desperate for a refusal, but only a laugh escaped from Gusion's lips. A part of you hoped that it was true, but another was afraid— Really afraid. They were nobles for lord's sake! They'd be looked down on if you dare try to have an ounce of romatic relationship with them.

"Won't you be shamed on? Why would you admire me? An armorer for the whole palace!" You argued, brows furrowing together once you saw a disappointed look in Aamon's face— Which was terrifying, he rarely ever show his emotions. And this? Him making that kind of face? It was usually a sign that he'll punish someone.

And that someone, was you. "Clean up first, love. We'll show you how much you're worth." Love. Oh fuck— You're absolutely gonna ruin their reputation if things escalate. Probably ruin your family's reputation as well..

Your mind being all over the place became the reason as to why you were confused as to why you were suddenly on the dinner table at the Paxley's house. A towel wrapper around your— still slightly dusted outfit. The revealing skin was now free from the uncomfortable feeling, but only the revealing ones. "When did we get here?" You asked, Aamon walking you to upstairs— you had suspicions as to what he and Gusion was planning, and you hoped they really don't do it.

"By my powers of course. I'm the best at being swift after all." Gusion proudly stated, walking forward and admiring your water dripping face. It made your face heat up— especially after your eyes locked together. It was impossible not to look away, knowing fully well that if you try to move— Aamon will be quick to hold you down.

There's the same tension that made you feel something in your stomach. Even worse now that you can't get away from them. Suddenly, an excuse popped up in your head— just before all three of you could enter the room infront of you. You spoke up, in a panicked voice; "My sibling, they're with a family friend of mine. I need to pick them up and bring them home!"

You needed something. Something to stop them from ruining their family's reputation. "I already sent Eren to pick them up. No need to worry." Aamon reassured, your attempt at stalling— ultimately failing as the door was opened by Gusion. Who, by then; Already figured out how stressed you were, and nothing could comfort you. Unless they both prove to you how much you're worth.

You kept trying to subtly move away from Aamon's hold, though— it was a useless effort to do so, considering that both of them figured everything out by now. Your insecurity could be fixed, and it will be fixed after this day. "Relax, you're safe with us." Aamon whispered. Your eyes scanned around the room, and after realizing who's room it was— Your heart stopped.

"Are we really gonna do this in your room? The maids keep cleaning this, it'll be a shame if they clean up everything that happened after this." Gusion asked, visibly annoyed because of the maids cleaning up... whatever happens later. "You should know that I request the maids to not clean my room. I have more privacy than you. Young man."

Gusion huffed at his brother's answer, opening the door to the bathroom— You assumed. Then was corrected after you saw the formal bath in the side. Along with a curtain and a sink. It all looked clean, and untouched. You don't deserve to be there, let alone wash yourself clean from your dust..

Aamon and Gusion shared a look as the older helped you to step inside the already prepared warm bath. "Are you sure Eren picked my sibling up? No one informed me!" You asked again, knowing already that it would be a lost cause. They had a mission to achieve, and they had no plan to stop theirself for achieving it.

"'Course he did, my sweet big brother talks about you all the time." Gusion turned away and ran out the room, avoiding his brother's scolding after he left. Your heart started to beat from your chest, endless thoughts circling your mind. It seemed like they had feelings for you. Aamon could have liked you more, but Gusion might be steering away his focus on him to Aamon to.. possibly hide his feelings.

Hesitantly, you took the towel away to wash your dusted outfit. Forgetting that the eldest brother was there with you. Until you felt a hand tug on your shirt. "Oh! I'm- I'm so sorry, I forgot-!" You exclaimed, about to put the towel back on, until he pulled your back to his chest. Free hand reaching up to run his slim fingers through your locks. "Don't be ashamed."

The soft gravel tone in his voice next to your ear made you move away subconsciously. But god damn, it sounded so hot.. "How can I not be? I don't deserve to even step inside your room. Let alone, your bathroom." Your question made him chuckle, a hand coming down to rub your stomach, in a way you felt so comfortable.

"Lets take your clothes off, you don't deserve to be dressed in such filthy clothes." His offer made your heart stop, your knees suddenly buckling when his hand grazes your cheek. His touch was alluring you to submit to him. His hands moved to your neck, down to your button up shirt, he unbuttoned it slowly, one by one, until he reached the very bottom. "Aamon.."

Something about you saying his voice triggered something in his chest. In a second— your clothing was stripped from your body, and the next. You were bent over the tub, slim fingers teasing you through your underwear. Your head hung low, stiffling the noises that was threatening to come out from your mouth.

Aamon admired the way your back arched, his curious side becoming more visible while he became more bolder with his actions. His nails grazed the tip of your nub, making you cry out from the sudden stimulation. The sound you made, he wanted more of it. More of your whines, more of your small begs— he wanted more of it.

Without realizing it, Aamon set you down on the sink and pulled off your underwear. Eyes shining, like he was looking at desert after seeing your damp pussy. "Aamon- I beg of you-." You gasp out, head tilting back whilst his tongue made contact with your outer lips. The taste made him feel so intoxicated— made him need more of your taste.

He figured, the best way to do that— was to continue stimulating your poor, untouched core. His head dipped down to taste more of you, nose rubbing againts your clit as he lapped his tongue over your pussy. Your stomach churned, and snapped at his every action. It made you feel so good.

Little do you know; Gusion just came back from drinking some water downstairs. Listening in on your pretty little whines, his brother was making you feel good. Aamon had already unraveled your outer lips to taste you even more. Your legs shaking from the continuous stimulation from his tongue— Oh how left out Gusion felt when you cried out after Aamon slipped his tongue inside you.

He was the one that convinced his brother to finally make a move on you— He deserves to be part of the fun! Hell, he was sure that he was the one that developed feelings for you first. So, without shame, he went inside and basked in the view. You with your eyes closed shut, thighs clamping around his brother's head— eating you out to the point where your legs had already given out.

The sight was absolutely gorgeous. If only he could blackmail his brother.

"He's eating you out so good, right?" Gusion asked, a smirk rising up from his face upon seeing you tense up, and your face redden from embarrassment. Though, the embarrassing feeling was one you couldn't feel. You were on the brink of your orgasm— crying out even louder when two digits slipped into your wet pussy. Adding to the pleasure that Aamon's tongue was already providing you with.

"Are you gonna cum? Cum all over the eldest Paxley brother's face? Do you think you deserve to do that?" He asked, stepping over to you and grabbing hold of your hair. You cried out again, thighs clenching as you tried to stop your inevitable orgasm. Although, doing that just made Aamon desperate, licking up and trying to suck the cum out of you. "N-no! I-I don't deserve to!" You choked out, hands flying to tug on Aamon's hair. Begging him to stop.

But, it only took Gusion's lips sucking on your neck to make you cum. Crying out, and eyes closing shut from the pleasurable guilt you felt as Aamon rode out your orgasm. "You taste so divine." Aamon groaned out, lapping over your pussy one more time, before standing up and glancing at his brother. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cum." You muttered, tearing up as you moved your hands to cover your face.

"What did you say to her?" Aamon asked, eyes narrowing at Gusion, who raised his hand in defence. "I just asked if she deserves to cum on your face. Promise!" The younger said, amused when Aamon started to pepper you with soft kisses on your neck. The act of affection soothed you— But it wasn't enough, Gusion's words really stung. Though, you didn't deserve to be guilty.

"Don't listen to my brother, you deserve to cum, since I was the one that made you do that." Aamon whispered, hand reaching up to cup your face. With how soft his hands felt, you forgot the words that Gusion— rudely said to you earlier. "Come on Aamon-ey, I deserve a bit of recognition from bringing you two together." Gusion spoke up. A teasing smirk; Still visible on his face.

"I'm not about to make you ruin her innocence." Aamon argued, holding you close as him and his brother argued. "Ohh come on~, just this once. Please? For your little brother?" Gusion whined, earning a sigh from his older brother. "I... I'm okay with him joining." You spoke up, to hopefully ease the visible headache that Aamon was feeling.

That settled it— without wasting a second, the two of them brought you to the bed. Aamon under, with you sitting on his lap. And Gusion situated behind you. "You prepped her, you go first. But I won't promise that I won't enter her after you do." Gusion peppered soft kisses onto your bare back, admiring how soft your body felt when he squeezed his palm on it. Upon closing your eyes, you heard the shuffling of clothes, and felt hands looping under your thigh to hoist it up.

"You look so stunning." Aamon whispered, stroking his huge cock and lining the tip of his cock below your hole. You held your breath, biting your lip while Gusion lowered you onto his brother's cock. The pain you felt was more pain than your first open wound. It felt like an eternity of your walls— clenching around Aamon's cock until you reached his pelvis.

Hell, Aamon could barely hold up in ruttig up into you when your walls were clenching so tight around him. It was nothing he had felt before, and neither did you feel something like that. You felt full— Figuratively and Literally. "So tight.." Aamon groaned, squeezing down on your hips as you leaned down. Desperate to feel comfort from his warmth.

Though— what you did only allowed him access to your soft and tender stomach. He started caressing it, admiring you like a beauty in the newspapers. Your tight felt warm for him. His eyes rolling back after feeling your panting breath. "That's it... you're taking me so well." He whispered to you, nearly moaning out when your hips shifted. Clenching around him once more.

"You both look so fucked out.." Gusion grinned, holding his bare cock out and rubbing it againts the back of your hole. You shivered at the feeling and clutched onto Aamon's shoulder. "Let me just... squeeze right in.." With every word, Gusion eased himself into your already occupied hole. You and Aamon cried out, the tight sensation becoming too much for Aamon, and the stretch making you feel like you're being ripped apart.

Aamon noticed your struggle, hand reaching down to rub your clit in soft circles. Helping you lube up his brother's cock with your slick. "Too... much." You choked out. Tears filling your eyes and falling down onto Aamon's chest. His eyes grew soft at that, pulling your face close to his and kissing you. Gusion also helped to ease your pain, massaging your back and pressing soft kisses to it.

You felt warm at their touch, and eventually adjusted well enough until you could shift and not feel uncomfortable from it. "There, feeling better?" They asked you. To which you replied with a nod. Aamon pressed even more kisses to your face, with Gusion following up with soft kisses on your spine. Gusion was getting impatient, and tried a small thrust. A small whimper leaving your lips at the action.

He tried another, and groaned when you clenched around them both. Aamon watched your face contort into a desperate one, he tried his own thrust. A louder moan coming from you while doing so. "You have her spot, I'm only an addition." Gusion chuckled, watching as his brother try to hold back a groan at the feeling of your tight walls.

"You're so good to us.." Aamon whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into you, increasing your moans of pleasure, and turning you into a whimpering mess. With his movement, and Gusion's thrusts— It made you feel amazing. And, while Gusion just groaned and continued to apply pleasure from himself, Aamon rutted up into you, trying to hit that spot repeatedly as he could.

"You deserve this, everything we're giving you." He added, rubbing his thumb over your clit, you moaned. Closing your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm creep up to you. It seems that they wanted to reach that with you as well— Gusion's thrusts started to become uneven, and faster, chasing his own. While Aamon started rutting into you, humping your tight walls and kissing you.

All it took was for his finger, and both of them to moan your name to make you cum— It was the best feeling you've ever felt, and you lost yourself in the feeling. Falling into a subspace as they reached their peak inside of you.

You don't remember what happened after that. All you know, was that they spoiled you, and basked you in the comfort, and love you deserve. <3

I hope you enjoyed reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it! Take care of yourself. <3

[lisinfleur]

Shelter

The request:

Author’s Notes | I took the chance for Day Felice’s new album and wrote it while listening to their song Shelter, if you guys want to listen to it while reading as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! (And the song too haha). Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon. Words | 1878 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions to child abuse and abandonment. Wounds, blood, and some angst.

His chariot noise was always something that would help his mind to ease after any kind of arguing. And with his wife, it wasn't different. This morning he’d left after a huge discussion with her.

Why was Y/N so worried about a slave child?

Ivar insisted several times she should just forget the thing and let it go. It wasn't their responsibility! And more: by taking leftovers and water for that child every night, she was only making the little thing's suffering longer!

"It would be dead already if it wasn't for you, feeding it every night!" he remembered trying to insist.

But Y/N's was stone-headed! Every single night, there was his queen, dressing her cloak and leaving his castle - once a former church - to visit the thing that now wasn't moving places, of course.

Someone was feeding it, helping it, all the time! Why would it be stupid and leave it behind?

Ivar was getting used to passing by that child every day as if the girl was some kind of door or local decoration. But not for his wife. Not his Y/N and her heart blessed by Frigg.

She was a natural mother. He knew that! It was one of the reasons he chose her the love Y/N would show for any child she could have around.

But when she came with that stupid idea, it went too far for him.

"I'm going to take her home."

A thing.

A useless thing that wouldn't serve not even as a slave, so thin it was.

They've discussed it for hours. Ivar screamed at Y/N she was insane, perhaps touched by some local spirit. Y/N yelled he was an insensitive motherfucker who could fuck himself out of her room if he thought she would let a child starve to death on her door.

As always, their love was intense but also was their anger. And whenever they would yell at each other, one of them would end up hurt.

This time, it was her.

"I don't fucking care about what you think! It's cattle, Y/N! Cattle die! And that's it! I won't spend my supplies with a thing that can barely give anything back to us!"

Or maybe not.

Perhaps... It was him.

"Fine then. Let us guide her to the woods and leave her to the wolves, Ivar. Isn't it what we do with useless things? Oh, wait... Wasn't it what your father did to you?"

Their words would always hurt each other deeper than they wanted to hurt. Their hearts would regret the words said at the moment they’d left their mouths.

But this time, her words forced his eyes to look out of his chariot. And Ivar stopped it by the street near where that thing was sitting, observing. Trying to understand why his wife was trying so hard to save that starving child.

Why was she comparing them as if there was anything in common between him and a Saxon abandoned child?

It was early in the morning. He watched as the little girl unwrapped the leftovers his wife had given to her the last night. At first, Ivar thought the little hungry thing would, of course, eat everything without care. But he watched with surprise as she fractioned the little portion, eating a quarter of it and saving the rest for later.

It was an intelligent move... She wasn’t a wild animal, after all.

That would be a cold day. Ivar observed as the little one looked up to the sky. The sun was born behind some heavy clouds - probably some rain would be coming at night.

He watched as the little thing looked around, smartly stealing a barrel from the trash of a nearby store, checking on its wooden pieces to place it properly as a shelter. She was young and thin enough to fit into it. It would serve for the night and maybe keep her warm.

The owner of the store, so as some people who were passing by, pushed her here or there, complaining about her attempts to move between them. And Ivar watched as the little girl looked up from the ground to the bigger people around her, fearlessly.

She wasn't such a defenseless little thing as he thought she was.

In fact, she was pretty smarter than he thought a Saxon child could be, hiding her barrel between the mead barrels of the same store, covering its problems with some mud, so the owner wouldn't see it wasn't one of his barrels.

She wouldn't have her shelter for the night thrown away or broken before she could use it.

Ivar lost track of the time he spent there, watching the girl moving here and there, gathering stones and mud to imitate the shop owner's way of stocking his barrels and preserving hers.

But the important matters of the town had to be more important than his arguing with his wife, and with this, Ivar moved away from that place.

His mind wondered if that was the reason why his wife was so sure he and that child had something in common.

The little girl was a fighter like he was someday, indeed. She was fighting her way to keep herself alive and, perhaps, his precious Y/N was right, and death wasn't exactly the fate that child had in this world.

Ivar tried to get himself occupied during the day. But the truth was that his mind never stopped lingering over Y/N's words, passing over and over the things he had seen that morning.

When the night was threatening to come, the sky broke in water as he thought it would. But curiosity dragged him away from the path to his home.

Ivar wanted to see if the little girl's plan had gone right and what was his surprise when he found the little one sitting away from the store under the heavy rain, with nothing but a rag to cover herself and wounds everywhere.

The barrel she'd tried so hard to protect was shattered near the store's trash, and a fence was placed by the owner around his barrels with some spikes near the place she was sitting before. It was preventing her from having coverage under his roof, even from the outside.

That angered Ivar a little. He'd seen her hard work! And, in the end, her plan had failed. She was clearly beaten and wet from her head to her toes anyway.

However, his eyes caught something he wasn't expecting.

After eating the last piece of what his wife had given to her, the little girl extended the leather over a hole he watched her carve with her bare hands on the ground. Treated, the leather started to catch water and fill itself, becoming a bag into the hole. The little girl caught the bag before it could lose its content, tied the leather with a strand of her ragged trousers, and created a canteen from where she started drinking the rainwater, relieving her thirst.

She was beaten down, defeated. Yet, she didn't give up. She didn't lay her pride down. And found herself a way to turn that rain into a chance for her to survive one more day.

There was determination in her eyes.

That little thing wasn't being sustained by his wife's crumbs. No. She was fighting to the limit of her strength to survive.

Like he'd done someday...

Ivar's eyes filled with surprise when he could see himself in that little girl's wounds, dragging himself through the mud when everyone thought he would never move.

Standing, when everyone was expecting his legs to break and let him fall.

She was a fighter. And, maybe, Y/N was right. Perhaps it wasn't about a Saxon child or a useless slave. Perhaps the gods were showing him they've chosen that little thing, to give her a chance, to reward her for the fight she was putting on for her life.

"Get in," Ivar's voice sounded.

The little thin thing lifted her eyes to see the mighty Viking looking at her from the chariot everyone from her people was taught to fear. Her wounded little body could barely reach the top of its wheels when she got up to look at Ivar.

Her eyes into his, instigating even more the curiosity he was starting to have about that little Saxon thing.

How fierce would she be if raised under his roof?

But the little thing didn't get up on his chariot at once. Instead, she lowered herself, gathering more stones with her muddy and wounded hands.

"I said get in! Don't you see you'll end up dying under this rain?" Ivar complained, annoyed he was standing under such heavy and cold waters for a thing that dared to turn her back on him, carving the floor and placing the stones in a way the rain wouldn't destroy her little monument. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I must do it, sir," she mumbled.

Ivar could recognize a small stone monument in that little girl's construction. His people were used to rising those little towers to pray for the gods or place small sacrifices and offers.

Was Y/N teaching her about the gods?

"Why?" he asked as she tried to climb up on his chariot, struggling a little with the height and her wounded knees.

"It is for the lady who comes here every day," she mumbled. "I promised if I ever was to leave, I would leave one of these for her, so she would know I'm not dead."

For his wife.

She was leaving a stone monument for Y/N, so she wouldn't be worried...

"I don't know where you're taking me, king Ivar," she said, showing she knew who he was. "But I don't want her to be sad."

Ivar's heart ached. There was indeed something in common between him and that child. But not only the fact that both of them were survivors.

She didn't want his wife to be hurt.

And so didn't he.

"Cover yourself," he said, throwing his warm cloak around her.

It covered her like a blanket in which she rolled herself, nestling with a grateful smile.

"She was right," the little girl mumbled as Ivar started to ride his horses.

"What?" he asked, and she repeated, smiling at him.

"The lady was right." She said. "The gods were watching me. Maybe I passed their test."

Y/N was definitely teaching that girl. And Ivar sighed, looking at the road.

Perhaps it was a test for himself as well. Or Skuld just had decided to use him as a feather to write that little girl's fate differently.

"Skuld," he said, catching her eyes. "We shall name you Skuld. To honor the god that wrote your fate like this."

"Skuld," she tried.

Pronouncing it perfectly.

"Sounds strong... I like it!"

What a petulant little thing, Ivar thought. As if she had any choice on how things would be from now on. A giggle filled Ivar's mouth.

Y/N was right and he would remember apologising after coming home that night.

The little girl wasn’t a useless thing. And he had to admit.

She was like him, after all.

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[madhyanas]

a place at the table

Pairing: Din Djarin x gender-neutral!Reader

Rating: T/PG-13 [mild]

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Spoilers for s2ep3, Chapter 11! Reader uses they/them pronouns. References to drowning, not explicit. Descriptions of freezing/extreme cold. One reference to Chapter 9 (s2ep1). Din being as self-sacrificing as always. Din’s particular brand of Mandalorian family values. Pining, yearning, affection - just think soft.

A/N: well then. first time posting for din! this has been cooking since ep3 came out, i’m just slow. it’s soft!! and worried!! and din severely procrastinating his own identity crisis!! they’re really fuckin married, guys. lovely stuff. also, if you can’t tell, i adore frog lady. and bo-katan. mwah.

BIG thank you to @justrunamok​, @pettyprocrastination​ and @generaldamneron​ for beta-reading <33

gif credit: @captrex​ - from the post here. thanks!

masterlist

You thought you knew cold.

Days and nights in the Crest have acquainted you with it. A hollow metal hull in the depths of the galaxy, surrounded on all sides by a vast expanse of nothing. Keeping the heater on burns fuel that you can’t afford, not with three mouths to feed. Space is cold, as cold as it could get.

And then you nearly drowned.

The briny depths of Trask are frigid, you’ve come to realise. Logically, you know it’s nowhere near the freezing vacuum of space. That’s real cold; true, absolute zero. But the thing about water is that it gets everywhere. The searing, ferocious chill of it had slammed all mental processes to a halt, petrifying your rationality before all else. It drenched your clothes, your hair. Snaked into your nose and seeped into your lungs. Rushed you as a swarm; no other sensation was relevant.

At the time — scrabbling at a grate hanging overhead, right there but always just out of reach — it’s what you imagined carbonite to feel like. Conscious but consumed.

Space is cold from a distance. Water freezes from the inside, cracked and jagged and burning.

So you should be grateful for your saviours. Mandalorians, unlike any you’ve ever seen before.

Which is to say, unlike Din.

There’s a lot to think about. So many things have happened in the span of a day that you can barely keep track. And beyond all else, you want to ask how Din’s coping—

“Trask is a black market port. They’re staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet. We’re seizing those weapons and using them to retake our homeworld.”

—but there are more important things to deal with at the moment.

“Once we’ve done that, we’ll seat a new Mandalore on the throne,” the red-headed woman explains.

Bo-Katan. She speaks regally, like she’s been on that very throne before. More importantly — like she’d earned it. In truth, she scares you. All three of them do, these new Mandalorians who show their faces — they scare you in the way Din did back when he was just a gruff, faceless employer. A tinge of instinct; a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

What she’s saying is important, you know that, and you can’t place the onus on Din to handle it after the day he’s had. But you can’t bring yourself to focus either. You’re barely holding it together as it is, taking mild, balmy comfort in his and the baby’s presence on either side.

The three of you, together. Right now, at this table, that’s the only thing keeping you from splintering right down the middle.

Even with a steaming bowl of broth in your hands, your fingers ache with the chill. It hurts, regaining body heat. Hurts as feeling returns to your toes. Hurts to clench your jaw, to stop it from chattering. Hurts the delicate skin of your face, thousands of icy needles jabbing into the nerves. There’s a pounding between your ears and behind your eyes. You’re tired, and you suspect Din is, too.

You really do want to ask how he’s dealing with…this. The Way has been part of his life — and part of yours, in as much of a lifetime as you’ve known him — for many, many years. An oak tree, offering security and strength to the garden. How must he feel, stoic at your side, to see these three fell theirs so easily?

An identity crisis is the last thing Din needs.

What he needs is a break. You need him to want a break.

A coo at your elbow catches your attention. The baby — safe and warm, thank the Maker — seems fascinated with the water dripping from your hair, patting his hands into the small puddles forming on his high chair and giggling at the splashes. It’s as if he was never swallowed whole in the first place; that’s another thing you’re going to recall decidedly later. Nonetheless, he bounces back fast, your child.

You smile, hearing your teeth click, and pet the sensitive spot between his ears. He blinks at you sweetly.

Someone clears their throat.

You look up, startled, to find three pairs of eyes on you. Expecting. None of them saying… anything.

The other woman, the one with braids on her forehead, slurps her slithering noodles without blinking. Unnerving, to say the least.

“Sorry,” you blurt, more on reflex than anything else. “Did I… miss something?” The uncertainty in your voice doesn’t escape anyone’s notice.

Beneath the table, a broad thighs shifts to press against yours. Comforting. You glance at its owner.

“It’s… Mandalorian business.” Bo-Katan tilts her head. Her gaze flits between you and Din, polite and clear. “I’m sure you understand.”

You blink, bemused. “Oh?”

And then you realise.

She’s asking you to leave.

“Oh!” Your brows shoot up. One of her partners smiles ruefully in your periphery, and you are struck with the distinct feeling of being other. “Of course.”

That’s… well. It’s justified, is what it is. She’s right. You aren’t Mandalorian.

You stand quickly, and the chair grates against the floor unpleasantly. You manage not to cringe, somehow.

There’s a free table on the other side of the cantina, you think you saw it as you entered. Should you take the baby? No, Din’s never liked being away from him, even if you’re there. But they’re armed, all three of them, and you don’t know them, even if they did save your life, saved the baby’s, saved Din’s—

There’s a hand at your elbow.

“They stay.”

Din’s voice is unyielding. He hasn’t moved at all besides his grip on your arm, keeping his visor trained on Bo-Katan, who raises a brow.

No one says anything for a long, tense beat. Until—

“They’re not Mandalorian,” Bo-Katan says bluntly. It’s something you don’t have the nerve to state aloud. Something Din is apparently ignoring, however much you’d never believe it.

He stays silent.

“It’s okay,” your murmur, and the silver helmet you know turns to you fractionally. Barely anything, and you know you’re heard. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s still staring Bo-Katan down. “I don’t mind.”

There are three sharp, foreign gazes on you, and your newly-rejuvenated toes curl in your boots. After so many days bundled up in the Crest, you’d forgotten what it felt like to be watched and unwanted. The company inside had never made you feel that way.

“They stay,” he insists, making you jolt. “As is their right.”

Bo-Katan’s half-smile is faintly amused. “And which right is that?” she asks, like she already knows the answer. It seems like they all do, daring Din to state this mysterious ‘right’ that you’re in the dark about.

“It is their right as a member of my clan.”

The gloved fingers on your elbow tighten, leather creaking ever so slightly but just enough to remind you to breathe.

You blink at the silver helm dumbly, forgetting your onlookers for the time being.

He’s— He means that. Din doesn’t say what he doesn’t mean. Every word is measured, deliberate. He chooses his words like he chooses his weapons; they’re specific, well-cared for. Only to be used when necessary. Which suggests that—

Well. Maybe you should sit down.

As you do so, the woman opposite Din releases a slow, steady breath — Maker, you’d almost forgotten she was here — and squares her shoulders.

“Very well,” she says coolly. Her eyes flit to you, appraising, searching, before returning to Din. “As I was saying…”

And then you tune out again, ever so slightly. The information is going in, but you’re not truly registering its significance. Stupid, really, considering Din’s quite literally just fought for your place at the table. But you do.

You stare at the chipped, stained wood as if it holds the answers to questions you don’t know how to phrase. The baby babbles something incoherent, trying to get your attention, so unjustly denied to him, and you offer a finger for him to hold.

Clan. As in, part of. It’s new.

It feels like a small, three-fingered hand, gravelly warmth next to your thigh, and a hand pulling you back to the table.

———

Tracking down the Frog Woman and her husband isn’t too tedious. Trask’s daylight hours are long, for a moon, so even after Din’s aside with Bo-Katan and her people, it’s barely dark as you make your way to the inn.  

“It won’t be long,” Din had assured you. “I go with them, assist with their mission, and come back within a day. Routine transport raid.”

Them. Their. It didn’t bode well that his so-called brethren are this… dissimilar.

“Last time you helped someone out, you got swallowed by a desert dragon.”

“That wasn’t last time.”

“Still counts.”

Childish, perhaps. Petulant. But correct.

The problem was, so was he. There was no choice.

Now, Din leads your party of three briskly down the street.

Since his father had manually adjusted the drift range on the crib beforehand, the child has no issue being carted along express-style, making curious noises at the various fishing apparatus he sees scattered around the port.

You don’t have such luxuries as the little womp rat, so you’re left to frantically try and match your Mandalorian’s pace. The lingering shivers wracking your frame are shoved aside for the wheezing burn beginning to creep up your sides.

“Hey, uh, Mando?” you ask, somewhat out of breath. “You think you could slow down? You’re going a little fast—”

Your shoulder clips a passing Quarren roughly, spinning you round with the force of the collision. The point of impact throbs unpleasantly, painful but superficial. Stunned, you can only blink as the tentacled man snaps something unintelligible in your face. An apology sits ready on your tongue and you open your mouth to speak, before a solid wall appears between you.

A breathing, unyielding wall of leather and beskar, glowering at the Quarren silently as you’re turned away, closer into the gentle bend of his hold. Quietly surrounding, protecting. Something else you’re not used to, from when it was just the three of you in the ship. But this feels… good. It feels like it’s yours.

The other man balks, and leaves with a grumble under his breath.

Din glances around above your head, ever aware, ever cautious. “Stay close,” he murmurs and—

You could probably pinpoint the exact moment your body temperature spikes, as a large, gloved hand comes to rest on your lower back. “Oh. Okay.”

The rest of the walk passes you by.

“I wasn’t trying to rush you,” he says tersely, having slowed his pace considerably. There’s an apology in there somewhere; you can hear it. “But you’re soaked, and you’re cold. You need to get warmed up.”

You smile. It’s really not the time, but— “Are you offering?”

A huff from the modulator, and he shakes his head silently. Less rejection, rather than fond exasperation.

“You must be cold, too.” The realisation dawns on you in an instant. Oh, Maker. He’s been freezing for just as long as you, now. If not more, since he hasn’t eaten anything warm.

The next shake of the helmet is more insistent, purposeful. “No. I wear more layers than you do.”

“You dived into the ocean, Din.” His name is hushed, spoken after a quick look to confirm that no one can hear you.

“So did you.”

“I was pushed, that’s not the same thing.”

Din doesn’t respond, and your smile dims. He seems to hesitate for a moment, before pressing a button on his vambrace, and the baby’s crib floats a little closer.

Oh.

He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the walk. You regret bringing it up.

But his hand doesn’t stray from your back.

——

The building is small, cozy. Barely a couple of stories tall. And, to your delight, it’s warm.

“Thank you for having us,” you tell the Frog Woman gratefully. One of their towels is wrapped around your shoulders; a placeholder until you can find a clean, dry change of clothes. You feel better already. “We’re sorry to impose like this.”

She croaks something vaguely welcoming and you smile, keeping a shrewd, wary eye on the baby — now staring at the egg canister with wondrous intent, reaching his stubby little hands out from his place clutched to your chest. Now there’s something to keep you occupied for the evening.

A hand on your shoulder, warm and light, and you turn around. Din tilts his head towards the door. “I’ll be going,” he says, barely a whisper past the lip of the helmet.

“What? Uh, Mando, hold on!” Halfway out of the chair already, you stare at him incredulously, before turning back to the expecting parents. “Just— Just a second, please. Could you take the baby?”

However disinclined she may be to your carnivorous terror, the Frog Woman takes him into her hands gently. She’s sweet, kind. You hope she understands the depths of your appreciation.

A polite nod from Din to the couple. “I’ll be back for them soon.”

He follows you into the narrow corridor. The door slides shut behind you both.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

You stare at him for a moment, tugging the edge of the towel at your shoulders. Your mouth opens and closes, faltering around words that don’t have the courage to form.

“I…” You deflate. “I just— I wanted to ask you that. Before you left.” It’s a foolish question. What’s wrong, like his entire way of life hasn’t been upended in a heartbeat by a careless show of face. Like the Way hasn’t just crumbled at his feet like wet sand, trodden on by three strange pairs of boots, scorched by familiar jetpack fuel.

He doesn’t say anything. No tilt of the helmet, no sinking shoulders. Nothing. Just keeps looking at you, visor tilted down to your face.

There’s a reasonable distance between you. Not professional by any stretch of the imagination, but enough for him to be comfortable in semi-public. The corridor is empty, and you can’t hear any footsteps.

Except Din’s, when he steps forward.

You feel your features soften in time with the pounding of your heart. “Din, love, please—”

He pulls you into his chest, plucking the wind from your lungs in a surprised, candied puff into the worn fabric of his cowl. His arms snake around you, securing you to his sturdy frame, and by reflex, yours mirror the movement on him. The helm’s hard, flat surface presses against the side of your head tightly; an anchor tugging on the seabed.

You feel him inhale, a ragged, rattling thing that has your stomach sinking. You only hear that sound when he’s injured, stumbling back to you with a bounty and a nasty, jagged stab wound or two. Only when he’s injured but oh, isn’t he?

It’s hard to tell how long you remain like that. Wrapped around and in between each other. Feeling each other breathe in and out, like the push and pull of the tides. It’s worth it, for the fading of tension in Din’s shoulders. Not removal. But an ebb for the flow. You’ll take it.

“There is a lot,” he rasps, modulated into your hairline. “You know that. And I can’t focus on what needs to be done if I think about it.” You feel him sigh, draping into your arms even further. “I can’t afford that.”

You try to keep your voice calm, soothing. To avoid the hot press of tears threatening to clog your throat. “Okay. That’s, that’s— Okay.”

You sound like a fool, parroting your own words. But he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Okay,” Din agrees. There is something shaky in his voice, and you would give anything to wrench it from his chest and throw it into that Maker-forsaken ocean. Let it drown for all you care.

For now, though, this is enough.

You move to step back, just a palm’s breadth away, and his arms unlock to let you do so immediately. His gloved hands slide down to nestle in the dip of your waist.

You look at Din consideringly, wondering if you could push for later. Later, to discuss the revelations he’s been bombarded with. Later, to talk about what you’re doing to do. Later, to finally get him to rest his weary bones.

Urgent, but. You decide to let him be. For now.

There’s something else you’ve been meaning to ask about anyway.

“So.” You smile wanly, treasuring the jewelled glint of beskar through the thinnest film of tears. “As a member of your clan, huh?”

Din sighs. Bracing, grounding. Returning to the present, where you’re just here to see him off. Where you have a baby waiting inside to keep from snacking on your hosts, and he has a hijacking to initiate. His fingers press tighter into your skin.

He appreciates the subject change.

“You already know my name,” he says quietly. Shrugs. “I’d say you know more about me than anyone else.”

You take a second to mull that over. Enjoy the taste of it in your mouth, the weight of it in your heart. He is such a precious thing to know.

Without thinking, the word leaves your lips in a bright gust of affection. “Same.” The helm tilts. “You know more about me than anyone else, too.”

He nods, a small, barely-there movement. More to himself than to you, you suspect.

“Good.”

Elastically, achingly slow, Din leans his head down. You lift yours up. When your warmed forehead meets beskar, a kiss from which you feel deprived, yet glutted, you’re inclined to agree.

“Stay safe,” you whisper. Your heart fogs and clouds on the metal, right above where his lips would be.

His thumb strokes across your waist. And you know he will.

——

[ashintheairlikesnow]

As you can see, I’m ALREADY pepped for

✨Kauri with sick jake✨

So don’t worry about that

Honestly, this is for @eatyourdamnpears and everyone else encouraging my silly whims

CW: Description of migraine visual aura, migraine, sick whumpee, some consensual spice refs/flirting at the end

It starts as a dot in the center of his vision, a bit of gray he can’t quite see around. Jake frowns, closes one eye and then the other, but it’s there in both of them when he tries to look at the clock on the oven. He checks his text messages and there it is, little gray dot, making it... not impossible, but difficult to read the message.

“What are you doing?” Kauri asks the question from the doorway, standing with his shoulder leaning on the frame and his arms crossed in front of himself, wearing nothing but one of Jake’s shirts, hanging off his frame in a way that somehow makes him seem more graceful, not less. 

“Go get pants on before Ant comes down and blacks out from blushing so hard,” Jake says, voice still upbeat, but... is the spot getting bigger?

He picks up his phone and types in ‘signs of seizure’ into Google. 

Nope.

‘Sudden changes in vision.’

Oh, well, the potential answers to that one are definitely fucking terrifying.

How about... ‘gray dot in center of eye’.

“What the fuck is retinal detachment?” Jake mumbles, squinting. The dot is definitely getting bigger, and it’s in both eyes, not just one. So... not retinal detachment, unless his eyes both did it simultaneously, which seems impossible, but...

Google seems very convinced he might be dying. That is not comforting him at all as he tries to read around the spot.

“Jake?” Kauri pads across the kitchen tile on bare feet, and his hand presses cool to Jake’s bare back, long fingers against his spine. “What’s up?”

“I’m having a weird-... a thing in my eye... or my eyes?” Jake leans slightly back into Kauri’s touch. He hasn’t stopped being grateful for Kauri’s presence, and so deeply aware of it. It feels fragile, whatever is happening now, even though Kauri has always been made of steel underneath his insistence that he was nothing but tissue.

“What kind of weird thing?” Kauri moves around him, to lean his back against the counter next to the stove, head tilted to look up at Jake.

Jake looks down at him, tousled black curls and the way his face has changed with time, cheekbones and jawline more prominent, but his eyes have never been anything but the widest, brightest blue, and he can see Kauri through the arc that the gray dot is forming in his vision as it expands.

“I can’t-... I keep seeing gray,” He confesses, shaking his head - and he feels pressure there, a sense of something just... sitting behind his eyes, over his eyebrows. Like the weight of a small animal is there, and getting heavier. “Just, like, a dot, but it’s getting... bigger. And... like, breaking up?”

He tries to look at Kauri again, and the dot is a half-circle now. There’s a flash in the rounded curve of it, and then another. Then a third, but this one is colors, and there are small rainbows flashing lights along the arch as it grows. 

“Am I-... is this a fucking seizure? Or a, a brain tumor? Or...”

Kauri, to Jake’s shock, laughs. “Oh! No, Jake. No, that sounds like - you said it’s getting bigger?” He reaches up, going up on his toes as Jake leans down, and presses his cool hand against the side of Jake’s face. “Is it, like, turning into a circle? Do you see lights?”

“Um... yeah. Yeah, like, like a fucking rainbow strobe light on the right side.” Jake closes his eyes, and the pressure is getting worse. 

“Jake.” Kauri’s voice is soft. “You’ve got a migraine. Or you’re about to have one. When did you last sleep through the night? Or, like, at all?”

Jake snorts. “You’re one to talk.” 

“Answer the question, you.” Kauri pokes him in the side, with gentle affection, and Jake wishes he could focus on his face around the widening, flashing arch at the right side of his vision. At least it’s sort of framing Kauri, now, and Jake wonders at Kauri just... here.

No backpack by the door next to his shoes, ready to run. The backpack is in Jake’s room, and it’s empty. Kauri’s fucking... pet Roomba Keira is in her place of honor in the living room by the Christmas tree. One of the new rescues is convinced they can fix her broken wheel even though it’s been actual years since Keira could roll around on her own. 

For her part, Keira informed Kauri in that... unsettling metallic female voice that her visual sensors were enjoying the shifting colors of the Christmas lights and that she didn’t mind playing a sort of living Wikipedia for the rescues - all former Romantics - learning about a world they were forced to forget.

Keira reported to Jake that the most common question she received was some variation on how many pets run away, and how many go back?

 The numbers are getting bigger - and the amount that end up back in WRU custody or with their former owners is going down.  That alone drives Jake to keep working, harder than ever, to give as many as he can somewhere safe to land.

“I don’t know. Chris is here for Christmas break, we have new rescues, there’s-... just been a lot going on, and-” He sighs as Kauri’s hand moves up, thumb rubbing soft little circles just above his eyebrow, and the pressure building behind his eyes seems to lessen, just a little, at the touch.

“So the answer is that you’re stressed and not sleeping. So this is definitely a migraine. Is it still getting bigger?”

Jake opens his eyes and looks down at Kauri’s face, giving a slight smile. “Uh, yeah. It’s... almost all off to the right, now. You’re pretty with a rainbow around you.”

“Well I’m gay as hell, so I should hope I look good in rainbows,” Kauri says, smiling with his nose scrunched up the way he does when he’s not being self-conscious about it, and then he takes Jake by the hand, pulling him back across the kitchen. “Come on, you. Time to lay down.”

“Kaur, the rescues will wake up any second now-”

“Antoni can feed them as well as you can - way better, honestly. He can just reheat those little pocket things with the cheese in them.”

“... Hot Pockets? I don’t think-”

“No, the thingies. The, um. The pirouettes?”

“Piroshkis?”

“Sure, that sounds right, too.”

“Well, pirouette is a ballet term-”

“Jake. Not important. Let’s just be happy I remember anything at all. Come on.”

Jake doesn’t feel like he follows Kauri so much as, like always, Kauri is a planet on its own orbit that Jake is drawn to, has always been drawn to, long before he could have had a moment with him like this. “But Chris-”

“Chris is twenty-three years old,” Kauri points out. “More or less. He can take care of himself, and right now you need someone to take care of you. And trust me, I have a lot of experience with migraines - and so does he.”

The rainbow flashes are fading out, moving so far to the side of his vision that they are effectively gone, but the pressure is still building and Jake squints against the way the first hints of sunlight hurts, a little, to see coming through the windows. “You do?”

“Of course I do.” Kauri’s legs are pale where they show under the hem of the big shirt he wears, and Jake swallows against the way something in him stirs at the sight, but that bit of pain that had come with seeing the sun isn’t leaving. It’s getting worse. “When I stopped blacking out, I started getting headaches, migraines, lasted for days. Fucking hated it. I used to get them in training a lot, too.”

“You did?”

“Mmhmm.” Kauri pauses, briefly, at the top of the stairs. “When I relearned how to read, and when I looked at myself again, they came back. But I had to keep trying, anyway.” He glances over at Jake and gives him a slight smile. “All that time I spent trying to figure out what you were seeing when you looked at me. Migraines come with the territory.”

“Why don’t I know that you were getting headaches?”

“Because I didn’t tell you about them. We’re, um. We’re good at ignoring pain.” Kauri smiles, still, but there’s something a little more brittle in it now. “Chris got them, too, learning to read. And... probably before. But everything-... hurts so much, in training. You get used to doing everything with the pain instead of waiting until it’s over. You don’t have a choice. There we go, I’ve distracted you with a sob story long enough to get you back to your room.” Kauri helps Jake inside, closing the door, and Jake sighs in relief as the room is beautifully, perfectly dark. 

“Our room,” He says, and his head is starting to really hurt, now. “I don’t have time to lie down, Kaur.”

“You sure as fuck do,” Kauri says cheerfully, getting him back to the bed, hands running over Jake’s shoulders, back, and sides as he lays down on his stomach, groaning. Kauri presses a little, here and there, gnawing on his lower lip. “You’ve got some serious fucking stress in your back, Jake.”

“When do I not?” Jake asks, muffled by shoving his face into a pillow.

“... good point. I’m going to get you something for your headache and tell Antoni he’s in charge today. You... don’t move. Or I’ll be very unhappy with you.” Kauri’s voice teases, effortlessly flirty, just a little with the graze of his fingertips before he pulls away. 

He’s gone, for just a few minutes, and Jake’s headache seems to worsen by the second, moving from the first hints of pressure to a full-on pounding pain. He doesn’t dare pull his head up, afraid even the slightest sliver of light will be too much. His stomach twists and turns, too, and Jake’s glad he got up here before he ate anything. 

That Kauri got him up here.

Kauri reappears with two pills, a glass of water, and a surprisingly bright smile on his face. “Well, I’ve embarrassed Antoni by stretching and forgetting I’m not wearing any pants, so... good thing I look good naked. Here, take this.”

Jake swallows down the pills and drinks the water until it’s gone, then hides his face back in the pillow. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Stay right here, dumbass,” Kauri says, softly, and he crawls up into the bed, lying down on his side next to Jake. Jake can feel the soft brush of his hair before he leans in and kisses Jake’s neck. “Stay right here with you. That’s my plan for the day.”

“I’m gonna be real boring,” Jake mumbles into the pillow. 

Kauri’s voice is low, situated just above a whisper but below the threshold that would make Jake’s head pound any harder. “I spent years alone with a talking Roomba and some plants on a balcony. Boring doesn’t bother me. I’d rather sit in this bedroom in the dark with you being a big whiny baby than be anywhere else.”

“... ‘m not whiny.”

“He said, whinily,” Kauri teased, and snuggled up next to him. Somehow he’d taken his shirt off and Jake slid one arm over the warm skin of his back, pulling him close. “Hey now-”

“Isn’t sex a pain reliever?” Jake asks, eyes still closed, nuzzling into Kauri’s neck, the warm smell of his skin, with the faintest hint of Jake’s own cologne. Something about having known Kauri to never smell like the same cologne twice for so long, and to know now he only ever smelled like Jake... 

“Not for migraines. Wait til your head feels better, dumbass.”

“Thought you liked my ass,” Jake murmurs, kissing just under Kauri’s ear, a spot he knows Kauri likes, a spot Kauri didn’t know he liked, because nobody ever bothered to explore Kauri the way he deserves. His hand slid down and between Kauri’s legs-

And then he winces and turns his head back to the pillow. “Ow. Okay, I can’t right now.”

“Told you so,” Kauri says, moving Jake’s hand back over his waist. “No sex until you feel better, Doctor Kauri’s orders.”

Jake pauses, and says softly, “I must be the only guy on earth who fucking loves hearing you say ‘no.’”

Kauri pauses, and then kisses Jake’s hair, the top of his head, and slides back into his embrace, the warmth that came with lying together under the blankets together. 

“Yeah, maybe. But I like that you want to hear it.”

“Always. Whenever you need to say it. I love you, Kaur.”

Jake thinks he hears the faintest hint of hidden tears in Kauri’s voice when he answers, “Love you, too.” 

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Do you regret it? | Drew Starkey x reader

Requested by @starksweasleymain​ // Summary: You and Drew are head over heels in love, but when he gets the role in Outer Banks and you get into a program at your dream school, what will happen to the two of you? 

A/N: Hey!! I’m sorry it took me so long, I hope you enjoy it! and thank you so so much for requesting!! xx Also, my apologies for any mistakes. 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“I got it! I got the part!” Drew runs through his house and into the kitchen where you’re sitting with his mother, sister and one of his brothers. He grins, “I got the part!”

Everyone cheers and stands up to hug him, congratulating him.

You wrap your arms around him, “I knew you would baby!” You place a gentle kiss on his cheek, “I’m so proud of you!”

He smiles, “We leave next friday for L.A to meet the cast and directors then we’re flying out Sunday night for Charleston, SC.” He wraps his arm around you.

“That’s great, baby..” You force a smile up at him. You still hadn’t told him about your news. News that could make it or break it for the two of you.

You wouldn’t be going with him.

~

“What do you mean you’re not going with me?” He slowly sits down on his bed, taking in the information. “We had a plan.. This was our plan.”

“I know, but Drew I got into my dream school, I made it into the program!” You smile and sit next to him, “You know how hard I worked to get into the program.”

The only thing on his mind was the fact you wouldn’t be going with him. You’d be in New York at your dream school. What about his dream?

“What about me? What about our plan?”

You can’t help but frown at his selfishness, “I warned you about this, Drew. I told you I applied, I told you this was my dream.” You slowly stand back up from your spot on your bed. You’re in disbelief at the way he’s handling this now. This had been your dream; you’d made it into the program. You’d be moving to New York to pursue your dream. But he’s more worried about you not being there for his?

You’d encouraged him and been there every step of the way as he made it as an actor. You’d cheered him on. You were his rock, his encouragement and so proud he got the part in the netflix show, but what about your dream? What about him being there for you? Shouldn’t this be a two way street?

“So, this is it? You’re just gonna leave me for that damn program in New York?” His voice is angry.

“Hold on. I have spoken to you about this. You were the one who encouraged me to apply to the program again!”

“Because I never believed you could get in!” The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them.

It was a kick in the gut. The words that came out of his mouth was not what you were expecting. Tears prick your eyes as you stare at him in disbelief, “I have stood by you every step of the way, encouraging you to pursue your dream. You weren’t the only one in this relationship Drew. I deserved the same amount of support and encouragement I was giving you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that..” He stands and reaches for you, but you step away.

“No. This is over, Drew. I don’t deserve this.” You watch as tears start to spill from his eyes; the realization setting in. You have to be strong. You have to stand up for yourself. You snatch your purse from his bed and storm out of the house, Drew hot on your heels.

“y/n please. Don’t do this. I need you!”

“Unlike you, I actually believe you can do it.” Your hand is on the doorknob and you turn to look at him one last time, “I know you can.” You open the door and slam it shut behind you. That was the last time you saw Drew Starkey.

~ 8 Months Later  ~

One month after you broke things off with Drew, you found out you were pregnant. You’d already moved to New York and Drew was already living the good life in Charleston filming Outer Banks. You kept it a secret until you came home 6 months later to visit family and saw his sister and mother in the grocery store. You’d broken down in front of them as soon as they asked if it was Drew’s.

Your life in New York wasn’t like you thought it would be. It was difficult and after that visit home, you found out you didn’t want to be a single mother in New York. So, you applied to another program close to home and was accepted. The Starkey family helped as best as they could. You didn’t want Drew to know of the baby with everything going on in his life, so his family swore nothing would be said to Drew until you were ready. It wasn’t their place or story to tell.

You and Drew’s sister were already kind of close, but became closer when you moved home. She helped you pick out things for the nursery, accompanied you to doctor’s appointments and was your overall support system. You were grateful for the Starkey family’s help.

You were sitting with Drew’s sister at the dining room table, looking over baby stuff to make sure you had everything you needed. You rubbed your large stomach and nodded at a few things.

You and his sister jumped when the door swung open, knocking against the wall and a quiet oops, shit. “What the hell?” His sister muttered and stood.

You swore you could have fainted if you hadn’t been sitting down. Drew Starkey walked through the home and into the dining room. He’d changed since you’d seen him. His hair was different. He was built now; his shoulders and arms large and broad. He was tan.

His sister steps in front of you, as if blocking his view of seeing you, but the damage was already done. Drew drops his bags to the ground with a thump, “What the hell is going on?” He slowly takes a step into the room and looks around his sister at you, his eyes wide as it looks at the baby bump.

“What are you doing home? We weren’t expecting you for another 3 days.” His sister exclaims.

He glances at his sister, but his eyes are still on your belly, “Filming was done early so I drove home to surprise you guys…”

His mother walks in shocked at the sight, “Oh.. um drew honey what are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you so early..” She walks over and gives her son a hug.

“I think I should go..” you slowly stand and grab your purse.

Drew pulls away from his mother and points at your stomach, “You’re pregnant.”

You glance down at your protruding stomach and then back at him, one hand on your belly, “Yeah, great observation.”

He takes a step closer to you pointing to your belly and then to his chest, “Is… is it mine?”

You glance at his sister and then back at him, “If it was yours, don’t you think I would have told you?” You step passed him, bidding goodbye to his sister and mom before walking out.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me my ex girlfriend was pregnant?” Can be heard before you shut the door. You waddle your way to the car, “Y/n! Y/n wait!”

Drew jumps down the stairs and rushes to you, “Wait.”

You sigh and open the door, looking at him, “What do you want?”

“It’s mine isn’t it? Don’t lie either. I mean come on. Mom told me you’re 8 months along. We were still dating when you got pregnant. Unless you cheated on me.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“ha! You know damn well I would never cheat on you. How dare you even make that accusation.”

“Then tell me the truth! I deserve to know the truth.”

“Yes, alright! This is your baby, but I didn’t want to tell you because you were living the good life out in Charleston and I found out I was pregnant living in New York and my whole life had been flipped upside down-“ You let out a painful moan, gripping your stomach.

Drew freezes, eyes wide, “Um.. what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Shit shit shit..” You take a deep breath and bend over, “Oh no..” A gush of water is felt between your legs and Drew jumps back in surprise, “Oh shit!”

He looks around as if looking for someone to help, “I-uh I don’t know what to do!”

“My water just broke you idiot!” You whimper, “I’m in labor.”

~ 6 months later ~ 

You slowly rock the small baby in your arms as you stand in the kitchen watching Drew make the bottle. You coo to the baby, “It’s okay… daddy’s getting your bottle baby boy.” You kiss his head.

Drew walks over, “Here, let me take him. Get off your feet. You’ve been go go go all day.” He gently takes the baby from your arms and begins feeding him.

You sigh as you sit down, “Thank you.”

He smiles at you and nods, “Course baby..” He stares back down at the baby and places a kiss on his head.

You sit and admire him standing in the kitchen with your baby, a tiny human that is half you and half Drew in his arms. You never would have thought 6 months ago, this is where you’d be.

“Do you regret it?” You ask Drew.

Drew looks up from the baby and at you, furrowing his eyebrows, “Regret what?”

“Leaving the show? Moving back home? Being here with us?”

He thinks for a moment, looking down at his son and then back up at you, watching as you twist the ring around your finger. He smiles at you, “No, not at all.”

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles​  , @simonsbluee​

Rafe Cameron // Drew Starkey taglist: @pm-my-hubbies​ , @timotaychalabae​ , @fratboystark​ , @fangirlvoice​

Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye​ , @alexa-playafricabytoto​ , @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ , @prejudic3​ , @turtlee-says-rawr​ , @outrbank​ , @k-k0129​ , @annedub​ , @rockyyc77​ , @ilovejjmaybank​ , @treestarrrrrrrr​​ , @thedarkqueenofavalon​ , @write-from-the-heart​ , @eclecticpuppyhollywoodhumanoid , @lasnaro​ , @kiarasgold​ , @normatural​ , @kaylinfayezink​ , @lordsagittarius​ , @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ , @thelovelydreamer17​ , @chasefreakinstokes​ , @fanficscuziranout​ , @diverrdown​ , @tregua-oca​ , @junkiemuppettxx​ , @afterglowsb-tch13​ , @hardyxlove​ , @cinnamon-roll-seth​ , @copper-boom​ , @aomi-nabi​

[erin-bo-berin]

Thing 1 and Thing 2

MASTERLIST

This was a requested fic of Garvez meeting Spencer’s twins for the first time and oh MAN did this fic make me want to incoporate Garvez more in future Spencer fics. I hope this incredibly fluffy, daddy Spencer fic will brighten your Monday. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 2,420

“Out of my way, I’ve got babies to see!”

You laughed, hearing the outburst of your friend Penelope Garcia coming from the living room. 

You grabbed the dirty diaper you’d just changed and threw it out, picking up the cooing, wriggling baby off the changing table.

Two weeks ago, you and your husband Spencer welcomed two little bundles of joy into your lives. A set of fraternal twins, fondly known to his work family as the Reid Twins, had come into the world in the middle of the night.

Thankfully, with no complications you had been fortunate to avoid a cesarean and were able to deliver both vaginally.

At 3:33 a.m. Spencer Alexander Reid—Alex for short—had come into the world with a powerful cry. All 5 pounds 8 ounces of him was perfect.

Eight minutes later, his sister Abrielle Jade Reid—Abbie for short—followed. She was the quieter one, taking a few moments to begin to cry and with less volume than her brother. She was 5 pounds 3 ounces of perfection, as well.

Spencer’s coworkers had been dying to meet the babies, Penelope Garcia being the most eager. Spencer had refused you any visitors for at least two weeks. Labor had been rough, even though it wasn’t a C-Section, you’d had a lot of pain and newborn twins were definitely a challenge. Finally though, Spencer gave the green light for visitors and of course Garcia had to be the first. 

You walked out to the living room, carrying Alex in your arms. There on the couch was Penelope and her boyfriend, another coworker of hers and Spencer’s, Luke Alvez.

It was no surprise that she’d already snatched Abbie from Spencer. You chuckled, greeting them.

“Hey guys.”

Penelope looked up, hearts in her eyes. You could tell that from across the room.

“Is that Alex? Let me have him too.”

You laughed, handing Alex to her as well.

“It’s like double the love! Double the cuteness!”

“She may have a brain aneurysm over all the cute,” Luke laughed.

“Y/N, you make the most beautiful babies,” she said, in awe as she stared down at them.

“Hey!” Spencer protested from across the room, “I helped too.”

“Yes but you’re already a pretty boy, your kids were gonna be beautiful regardless. Besides, Y/N carried them for the last eight months. I’m giving her some much needed credit.”

Spencer held his hands up in surrender, smiling. It would do no good to argue with Garcia.

“Keep an eye on her, she might try to slip one out with her when we leave,” Luke joked.

“I would if I could,” she beamed, “I claim babysitting rights.”

Garcia looked at you knowingly and you grinned.

“You will always be our first choice of babysitter,” you chuckled.

“I want to hold one of them, if that’s okay,” Luke said.

“Yeah, of course,” you nodded, picking up Alex out of Penelope’s arms.

“Do you even know how to hold a baby?” Garcia asked, brow quirked.

“No, but it can’t be that hard, can it?”

“It’s really not,” you assured, “But just don’t be afraid to hold onto them tightly because they squirm.”

You placed Alex in Luke’s arms and he held him awkwardly.

“Don’t be nervous. They can sense when you’re nervous and uncomfortable,” you said.

“Support his head!” Penelope said, “You’re squishing him.”

“No I’m not, look. He’s happy,” Luke grinned.

Alex’s hands were curled into tiny fists, resting on either sides of his face as he gave a big yawn.

“They’re a little milk drunk right now,” you laughed, “I made sure to feed them before you came over so they wouldn’t be as cranky.”

Alex’s eyes opened, staring at Luke, his brows creased as if confused.

“Yeah you don’t know that face, do you?” Penelope cooed to him, “That’s uncle Luke and I’m auntie Penelope.”

She tickled one of his feet with her free hand.

“These kids are going to be so spoiled by you alone, Garcia,” Spencer said.

“Of course! It comes with the territory of being an auntie,” she scoffed.

Abbie stretched and wriggled in Garcia’s arms, beginning to fuss.

“Oh I’m sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, repositioning Abbie in her arms, “I wasn’t paying any attention to you and that’s not cool, is it?”

“Dude, how the heck did you manage twins?” Luke asked, incredulously.

“Actually,” Spencer began, but you interrupted him.

“Don’t get him started. I asked him the same thing a few months ago and ended up learning more about sperm than I ever thought I’d know.”

“Hey, you asked,” Spencer shrugged.

Alex gurgled in Luke’s arms and he looked up, wide eyed.

“What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

“Relax,” Garcia side eyed him, “He’s just making baby noises.”

“What is it with men and panicking at their every sound?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“I feel like there’s a story behind this,” Garcia looked just as amused as she sounded.

“Oh, there is.”

You sat down in one of the arm chairs across from them, ready to tell your story. Spencer already looked sheepish before you even opened your mouth.

“A couple of weeks ago, when they were only a day or two old, I had finally gotten them to sleep and had just gotten to sleep myself when apparently one of them made some sort of noise. Spencer practically pounces on me, afraid something is wrong with one of them. They were literally just sleeping.”

Penelope cackled, Luke looked amused and Spencer looked even more sheepish, if that was possible.

“What did you tell him?” she asked.

“Well in my defense, I was sleep deprived, sore as hell from childbirth and cranky so I told him that they were sleeping and to go back to bed before I knocked him out with my fist.”

This time both Luke and Garcia died laughing.

“Hey, so I was worried! They’re my first kids. It’s not like they come with instructions,” Spencer protested.

“Ah man, that’s hilarious,” Luke grinned.

“Hey Spence, remember when you were so terrified to hold Henry when he was born?” Garcia asked.

“No way. Really?” You looked from Garcia to Spencer, curious.

You hadn’t met Spencer until five years ago. After dating for two years, you got married. So most of his early days at the BAU were stories to be told to you.

You loved Jennifer Jareau’s sons, Michael and Henry. Spencer, of course, was their godfather. He was amazing with them and loved those kids like they were his own, so you knew he’d be an amazing dad. It was just hard to believe there’d been a time when he was actually afraid to hold a baby. 

You and Spencer had been dating about a year when JJ’s second born, Michael, had arrived. You clearly remembered Spencer holding him with no issue. Apparently, he’d come a long way.

“Oh yeah, JJ put him in Spence’s arms and he looked like a fish out of water, he didn’t know what to do. Ironically, he was a natural and Henry was such a laid back baby,” she answered.

“Dude, I’m telling you, your genes are strong,” Luke commented, looking back and forth between the twins, “They look exactly like you.”

“Unfortunate, isn’t it?” Spencer teased.

You hit his stomach lightly.

“They’re adorable, hush.”

“Never said they weren’t,” Spencer beamed.

“How do you guys tell them apart?” Luke questioned.

Garcia stared at him blankly before turning to look at you.

“You see what I have to deal with?”

You couldn’t help it, that made you laugh. You were still partially giggling as you tried to answer him.

“Alvez, they’re fraternal twins. Besides, one’s a boy and one’s a girl?”

“Yes, I realize that, but right now they both have short, fuzzy hair, wrinkles and squirm. They look exactly alike. If it wasn’t for the pink and blue clothes, I wouldn’t know who was who without taking their diaper off.”

“Don’t worry,” Garcia assured you, “When I babysit them, he’s not touching them.”

“I’m just saying! Spence, help me out here,” Luke pleaded.

“You’re on your own for this one,” he smirked, “Besides, when they’re your own kids, you can tell who is who. There’s actually plenty of accounts of mothers who have said they can tell their identical twins apart from as early as the day they were born.”

“So in hindsight, let’s just hope you don’t have twins when you two have kids,” you said.

“Oh no. No kids for a long time. Between Henry, Michael, Roxy and now these two, we’ve got our hands full,” replied Luke.

“I’m definitely going to be getting my allotted baby snuggles and cuteness in for a while with these two,” Penelope grinned, playing with Abbie’s hand.

“Oh my goodness,” she suddenly looked up at you, “We’ve been talking all about the babies and I haven’t even had the chance to ask about you. How are you, mommy?”

You grinned, appreciating Garcia’s concern for you.

“Sleep deprived. Ice packs are a wonder right now.”

Garcia nodded, “That was JJ’s recommendation, I remember that.”

“All in all, pretty good. They’re quite laid back. But man, when they’re hungry they’re little terrors. They want food now.”

“Sounds like dad,” Luke quipped with a smirk.

“What? I’m not like that!” Spencer protested.

“Spence, you get hangry. You kinda are,” Garcia nodded.

Just then, Abbie started to wail.

“Well that’s my cue,” you said, moving to stand up.

“No ma’am. You rest,” Garcia ordered, “It feels like she needs a diaper change. I got this. You. Stay.”

She pointed her finger at you like an owner teaching its dog to stay.

“Yes ma’am,” you grinned, sitting back.

“We’ll be back,” she said, Abbie’s cries fading as they disappeared down the hallway.

“Would you like a beer, Luke?” you asked.

“I thought you didn’t drink?” Luke glanced at Spencer questionly.

“I don’t,” he confirmed, “Doesn’t mean I don’t keep stock for our guests though.”

You were aiming to get one from the kitchen, when this time it was Spencer who ordered you to sit.

“Okay, okay I get the picture guys,” you shook your head, amused, but grateful.

“You need to rest anyway. Your body is healing, Y/N, let it.”

Spencer kissed your cheek.

“Just relax. You’ve got help right now anyway, take advantage of it.”

You nodded and settled back as you watched the two men—plus Alex, still in Luke’s arms—disappear into the kitchen.

•

Spencer opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of beer for Luke. It was one of his buddy’s favorite brands. 

Luke noticed and grinned big.

“You know me well.”

Before he could hand the drink to Luke, Alex started fussing.

“Oh. Nope, nope. Once they start crying, they go straight back to mommy or daddy,” Luke said, passing him back to Spencer.

Spencer smiled, settling Alex against his chest. Alex’s tiny fist laid against Spencer’s throat, his head comfortably nestled on his chest. With the other hand, he handed the beer to Luke. He took it with an appreciative thank you.

“So, wow. You’re a dad now. I mean I knew you’d make a great dad, it’s just weird, now that they’re here.”

“I know,” Spencer smiled, looking down at Alex, almost asleep on his chest.

He ran a hand over the baby soft tufts of deep brown hair that he’d been born with and kissed him on the head. There really was nothing like the feel and the smell of a new baby. It was a slight mixture of formula—or breast milk, depending on the situation—baby soap and baby powder wrapped up with the smell of sunshine. Spencer realized how crazy that sounded, but maybe it was just the overwhelming happiness and probably exhaustion that made him think of that.

His newborn twins had the softest skin too. Their tiny hands and feet still slightly wrinkled and pink from birth, something that was slowly turning normal the more they were out of the womb and in the world. Their cheeks were so smooth and it always amazed him when he ran a finger over them, stroking them as they slept or as they looked up at him. Their heads, more normal shaped than coned now, due to birth, had the downy soft hair that only adults could wish for. It was the perfect place to kiss them repeatedly, whether it was in comforting them or just to express his love for them.

“It’s so different when they’re still hiding behind layers of skin, fat and muscle. Still hiding from the world, even if their presence is known,” Spencer chuckled.

“Are you doing good then? Adapting okay?” Luke asked.

“It’s a change, especially with two, but I love it. I’m telling you, you and Garcia should at least have one someday. It’s such an amazing feeling watching your child, or in my case, kids,” he paused, grinning, “Come into the world. Then having them peer up at you when they finally open their eyes long enough to check things out. Their little hands wrapped around your finger so tightly as if they’re afraid you’re gonna go somewhere.”

Luke smiled.

“Yeah, you’ve definitely embraced the whole thing, I can tell.”

“Watch out, by next week I’ll be in a daddy and me group,” Spencer joked.

“Touché,” Luke raised his bottle, taking another swing of beer, “You know the team is gonna be all over these little ones when they meet them.”

“Well, at least there’s a lot of helping hands,” Spencer said, moving towards the swinging door.

“You got that right.”

Spencer and Luke left the kitchen, heading towards the living room when they were stopped by Garcia.

She shushed them.

“If you dare wake her up, I’ll come after both of you,” she threatened.

Spencer peered over Penelope’s head and saw Y/N sprawled across the arm chair, head in her hand, fast asleep.

“Here, let me take him too. I was going to take them to the nursery and hang out with them there so she can sleep. Come on, Luke,” Garcia motioned first him to follow her.

“I’ll be right there,” Spencer said.

He waited until they walked off before tiptoeing into the living room, grabbing a blanket. He gently laid it over her before kissing her head.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

He silently left his wife sleeping and headed to the nursery, back to his friends and his two little bundles of joy. 

It was then he couldn’t help but think just how lucky he really was.

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore​ @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @likelovers @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @pretty-boy-gubler​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess​

[villainousshakespeare]

Putting it Back Together Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story, blood, slow burn, touch starved

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere

This had not been part of his plan, Adam thought as he switched on a lamp and cringed at the disaster that was his livingroom. Instruments and musical equipment were strewn all over the place, wires and amps just waiting to trip the unwary or uncoordinated. Which, by everything he had observed so far, definitely included his companion.

"Sorry for the mess," he mumbled, clearing a path to the sofa with his foot.

"Don't be," Lilly smiled, looking around with avid interest. "It's exactly how I envisioned it!"

"Great," Adam rolled his eyes.

"Not that I've been envisioning it," she blurted out, face turning scarlet. "I just meant... well, if I thought about it at all, which I only did because I could hear you so clearly over here... and what with all the clattering around..."

"You expected it to be a wreck," he finished for her as he swept a collection of books off of the ancient sofa and onto the floor.

"It's cozy," she said lamely.

"If you say so. Sorry I don't have anything to offer you except water to drink. I don't entertain. Ever."

"Water would be perfect," she smiled encouragingly at him, as though he were a toddler displaying acceptable manners in company.

Which, he supposed, was about right. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if the water here was potable. He had never drank any of it, of course. He only used the kitchen sink to wash the cordial glasses from which he drank his blood. Fetching a slightly larger cup that he had found in the cupboard when he moved in and giving it a quick clean, Adam let the water run for a few minutes to help clear out the pipes. It didn't look too contaminated; he hoped he was not about to poison her.

"Here," he walked back to the livingroom and thrust the glass into her hand. "No ice, freezer doesn't work."

"I'd say you should call the super, but I guess that doesn't work if you're the owner."

"It doesn't really bother me," he replied with a shrug. "I'll fix it myself eventually."

"After all, you don't have guests," she said impishly.

"Right."

"Perfectly drinkable," she judged after taking a sip from the cup.

"Good. Now, let me see if I can find that tape player."

That was what she was doing here, after all. Why his invitation had popped out he could not fathom, much less how he had ended up bringing her back here that very night. At least this way he could limit the time he spent with her, he supposed. It was already two in the morning; not long until the sun began to approach the horizon and he would be forced to show her the door whether he wanted to or not.

Glancing over to where she lounged on his sofa, he was not so sure what the decision would be on that one. Her legs, stretched out on the cushion, were quite shapely despite her petite stature, and the red top just invited one to run their hands over it to feel the silky material and the lush curves underneath. And then, of course, there was her neck, long and white and begging to be bitten.

Adam swallowed and turned away. He  could not help but think of the last time he had had a mortal in his home, though it had not been this one. Ian, his supplier of instruments and all around procurer had been almost a friend, if a zombie could ever be thought so. He was sweet and harmless, and Adam had a genuine affection for him in a distant sort of way. It had been a horrid shock to walk into the room one night after sun set and see the young man sitting lifeless on the couch, blood drained from his body and drying on the face of Ava, Eve's feral sister.

Adam had always hated Ava, and that night had been the last straw. It was also the beginning of the end to life as he knew it. Within hours he had tossed her out on her skinny ass, disposed of poor Ian's body, and was on a flight with Eve to Tangier, where she was destined to drink tainted blood and die. All because Ava had sucked Ian dry. All the more reason to hate his late wife's bitch of a sister.

Still, looking at Lilly stretching herself out, he could understand a little better how Ian had come to die. Ava had whined to them about how cute he had been, how she couldn't resist. At the time he had scorned such a thing as a pathetic lack of self control. He still did to a large extent, but at last he knew the urge. Not just the urge to feed, an impulse they all shared, but an urge to take a human in such an intimate embrace. When Eve was alive it would never have occurred to him, he had had her for such connections, he needed no one else. Now though, alone and untouched for years, he longed to feel Lilly's smooth skin against his mouth, to hear her gasp and sigh as he ran his lips over her neck.

Not that he would ever drain her, of course. He was not such a monster. He would not even drink from her. To do so would expose his true nature, and that would mean relocating again, as well as putting her life in danger.

No, he would do her this one favor, and then he would return to seclusion. He would make sure that he left through the basement when absolutely necessary so that she did not hear him, would otherwise stay inside so that their paths would cease to cross. It would be better for them both.

"Here it is," he mumbled with satisfaction. "Give me a moment to set it up."

"Take your time," she said happily.

Glancing over, Adam saw that she had given up lounging and was now coiling up all of guitar cables into neat rounds. He had to admit that she did a good job - they were neither too tight so as to damage the wires nor too loose so as to unravel as soon as she walked away. With a shrug of his shoulders he allowed her to continue. The cables could use sorting, and he was certainly not inclined to the task.

"Sorry," she said with a blush as she caught him staring. "I warned you, I fidget. I seem to always need something to do with my hands."

He could think of several things she could do to keep her hands busy, he thought. God, what was wrong with him? Was he really so touch starved?

"Where's the tape?" he finally asked

She leapt up from where she had been sitting, breasts bouncing as she did, and almost reverently handed him the box containing her Grandmother's recordings. Adam turned back around, discreetly adjusting himself as he did. He carefully placed the spool in his machine, grateful for something to occupy him until he got himself under control.

After a short series of clicks and static while the tape began to unreel, a scratchy blare of a trumpet began to waft through the air, soon joined by a piano and soft brushes on drums. Adam was taken back to a different era. A time when he had circulated more among the general population of humans. Women wore dresses and hats, men suits and ties, and a sophisticated style permeated the music scene. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed that era, the end of the 40s and beginning of the 50s. Between his excitement at the recent technological advances and his nostalgia for the old days of the height of classical composition, Adam sometimes forgot the joy and sorrow, the feeling that jazz could evoke.

When the voice, low, smooth, and heavy with emotion, slid in like honey, he looked instinctively to Lilly. Her mouth was open, shaped with a hint of smile at the corners. Her eyes blinked quickly, struggling he was sure to hold back tears. This would be the first time, he supposed, that he had heard her Grandmother sing since she had died. Even without the connection to the woman, Adam himself was moved by the song. He was struck by how strong Lilly was being, listening and holding back her tears.

Moving one step towards her, Adam opened his arms. With a catch of indrawn breath Lilly took two steps of her own and for the second time buried her face against his chest. It was so different thought, he thought as his arms came around her. That first night on the roof, she had been some annoying zombie woman, pushing herself in where she was not wanted. Her blubbering all over him had been almost violent in the way she sobbed and clutched at him. Now, she simply melted against him, and he gently stroked her back as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

The song ended and another began, this one he remembered. It had been a huge hit, still was sung every so often, covered by lesser vocalists. Lilly's Grandmother was not one of those. She was a true artist.

"There's a somebody I'm longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me..."

As the music continued, Adam found himself swaying to it, bringing Lilly along with him. She was stiff at first in his arms when he began to dance with her, but when she realized what he was doing she relaxed and allowed herself to feel the rhythm. She would never be a natural dancer, and she was clearly still in her head, but there was something sweet about that. She tried so hard at everything. Tried to be strong, tried to keep busy, tried to learn, tried to be happy.

When was the last time he had been happy, Adam wondered. When was the last time he had even tried? Not since Eve, certainly. Before that, he was unsure. There were moments, of course, even at the end with her when he had been so. He loved her with an enduring passion. But he had been going through the motions for decades, shutting himself off from the world around him. Ian had been practically his only connection to it.

Pulling back a bit, he spun Lilly about and half smiled at her. It felt strange to smile even that much. Muscles he had not used in forever only half remembered how to work. He had always had a brooding nature, but of late it had become harsh even for him.

They kept dancing until the tape ended, adjusting to the tempo and style of each song. It felt so good to lose himself in someone else's music for a change. To hold someone, to connect with someone. She was right, what she had said earlier that night. Music required no discussion, no messy dialogue. You could just feel it, let it move through you. And where there was someone else there, someone who even if not a musician herself clearly had an ear and more to the point a soul for it, to share it with it could be a profound experience.

When at last the song ended, Adam and Lilly's eyes met and something deeper than a smile passed between them. It was sad and joyful and required no words. They both collapsed on the sofa, Adam pulling her into the crook of his arm as he sat sprawled and tired. Lilly's legs were curled under her and she rested her head against his chest. He could feel the rise and fall of breathing, fast at first from the exertion of dancing, begin to slow. It was some time later that he realized she had fallen asleep on him.

How strange, he thought, that she should be so comfortable with him that she could so easily drift off. He had perfected the art of scaring people off, and yet this tiny woman had tenaciously refused to be run off. She seemed to trust him, even, had shared something deeply personal with him.

The sun would be up soon. He should wake her, he knew. Yet, looking at how peaceful she looked he could not bring himself to do so. Gently, Adam slid out from beneath her, lowering her head down onto a convenient throw pillow. He foraged about until he found a blanket on an armchair and draped it over her, tucking her in. Lilly sighed and burrowed deeper into the sofa, a light sigh escaping her lips.

Taking one last look, he made sure the curtains were drawn, turned off the light, and headed to his bedroom. Things would go back to normal tomorrow; they had too. But let them both sleep peacefully today.

***

Lilly scrunched her eyes and stretched a bit, trying to wriggle away from a hard lump she could feel under her left side. What had she left on her bed that was poking into her with such insistency. Feeling under her blindly, she pulled out something long and wooden. A drumstick? How on earth had that ended up in her bed? And why did the mattress feel like velvet?

As she emerged from the fog of sleep, Lilly came to the sudden realization that she was not, in fact, in her own bed.

Sitting up, she felt a smile cross her face that was lit from within. Last night had been a good night. She had reconnected with some old friends, and maybe even made a new one. Twenty-four hours ago Lilly would have thought the possibility of a friendship with Adam a fantasy at best, delusion more likely. And yet he had approached her, he had accepted her invitation to the club, and he had issued an invitation of his own that led her back to his apartment.

Oh, not that Lilly was crazy enough to think that he meant anything more by it than friendship. She was not the type of woman that brooding musicians stayed up composing love songs for. She was the type who hounded them with her insistent chirping until they finally relented and occasionally allowed them inside, like the mangy cat you gave milk to once who would forever after haunted your door. She was fine with that, she told herself. He had been a friend when she needed one, lending her an arm to dance with and a shoulder to lean on when she needed it most.

He had also, it seemed from the blanket draped around her, tucked her in. Her grin widened. Despite how hard he tried to cultivate his grumpy persona, Adam had could not hide the sweet kindness in his nature from her any longer. She had felt it as he had held her last night, and later when they danced.

That had been something she would not soon forget. Lilly was too tense as a rule to be graceful, but Adam was such a strong leader that she had stopped worrying about his poor toes and let herself simply enjoy. His body had been a continuation of the music, feeling it to the tips of his fingers and the ends of his hair it seemed. All loose and yet firm where his hand lay on her back, he had guided her flawlessly, swaying to the sound.

All in all, it had been a far better send off for her grandmother than the stuffy funeral planned by her father. The old woman would have enjoyed last night, Lilly knew, and she would have enjoyed Adam. Beyond the shared love of music, his sharp tongue and kind heart would have been just to her liking.

Not wanting to send her mind down fruitless paths, Lilly stood up to get a better look at the room. It really was exactly how she had imagined it, if not more so. Every flat surface from the floor to the mismatched furniture was covered in instruments, sound equipment, mechanisms for which she had no names, and the odd notebook or staff paper. Three of the walls were covered in sound proofing foam, the third in an odd collection of portraits. Looking at them, Lilly found scientists, authors, artists, philosophers, all sorts of creative and intellectual types. She made a game of naming them all, only coming up blank on two (although three more were guesses), and trying to decipher meaning from who was present and who absent. Somewhere in there, she was sure, was the secret to his mind's inner working.

Part way through her perusal, Lilly realized that nature was calling. Assuming the layout to his home was similar to hers, she made her way as quietly as she could up the creaky staircase. Once at the top, she was greeted with a long hallway, three doors on each side.

The first door she tried opened into a room dominated by a large drum kit. Scattered about around it were a music store's worth of other percussive instruments. Some day, she thought, she would like to come back and play in here, to see if she could bang out some of her inner frustration. It must be as good as therapy in some ways!

As she opened the second door an avalanche of what she thought were rugs or tapestries of some sort threatened to come spilling out and bury her. She quickly leaned all of her weight against it to close it shut again, hoping she hadn't disturbed anything expensive and moved on to the third door.

Lilly forgot how to breath as she opened it. There, spread out on a large bed covered in pillows, lay Adam, completely naked.

Lilly knew she needed to quickly exit, closing the door behind her, but she could not seem to make her limbs obey her. If Michelangelo had wanted a model for his David, he could have used him, she thought. Adam lay on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. While this luckily or unfortunately (she could not decide) preserved some of his modesty, there was still quite a bit on display to appreciate.

Broad, well muscled shoulders and back gleamed pale, contrasting against the dark of his hair where it fell. His waist segued gorgeously into a pair of slender hips and - dear lord, there should be a law! - a perfectly firm and round ass that Lilly would have given her right hand to squeeze. Long, lean legs seemed to go on for days, and actually fell off the bed before reaching his gigantic feet. A mischievous part of Lilly felt the urge to reach out and tickle them, and she actively clasped her hands behind her back to keep from acting on this awful impulse.

Had she really tried to convince herself, just moments before, that she was perfectly happy to just be his friend? If so, she had been deluding herself. Oh, she would take what she could get, but Lilly knew in that moment that she would go to her grave ruined for anyone else.

As she stood staring unabashedly at him, Adam mumbled something incomprehensible into the pillow. Lilly started to make for the door, but his head turned towards her and she realized he was still asleep. Cautiously, she lingered a moment longer, watching as he reached out to the other side of the bed, as though searching for something not there.

"Eve," he said, clearly this time. "Baby, I miss you."

Someone had reached into Lilly's chest and crushed her heart between their fist.

She had no idea why it had never occurred to her that he might have a lover, or even a wife. He was beyond gorgeous, brilliantly talented, and obviously had money. Anyone would want him. Why should she assume that just because there was no woman here at this moment he was single?

And yet, clearly, she had. The raw emotion in his voice, the need as he called the woman's name had been all it took to destroy her heart.

Following the direction he was facing, Lilly realized that in this room of dirty laundry and bedding, one picture stood out like a beacon. Placed on the table next to the bed where it could clearly be seen was a photo of Adam and a woman of ethereal beauty. She was not "pretty" in a conventional way, but had something far beyond that. Almost as tall as he was, and perhaps even paler, she was stunning in a cream colored suite with yellow gold hair. Adam had his arms twined around her center, and looked at her with such love in his eyes that it was unmistakable.

Forgetting her need for the bathroom, Lilly bolted out of the room and down the stairs. She needed to get out of here. Away from the perfect man who she was afraid she had already fallen for and the perfect woman who was clearly everything Lilly was not. Including it now became clear, the one that Adam wanted.

[kristallioness]

The guardian lemur

Summary: When Momo starts acting strange around Katara, she turns to Aang for advice.

Word count: 2,544

Author's note: I don't remember whether it was a blog post I saw here, or an online news article I stumbled across.. But, I think it's adorable when sometimes cats can sense if their owners are pregnant, so they become protective of them and start acting motherly towards them (like their natural instincts are kicking in). This cute concept inspired the following story. By the way, my mom has told me stories about how her grandmother (my great-grandmother) used to have a cat who'd catch mice and bring them back into the house and then release them, which infuriated her to no end. So, I guess this tidbit with Momo is inspired by that kitty, who didn't exactly understand how to be a cat. *lol* Anyways, I hope you like it since 'keeping warm' was one of my prompts, which I submitted this year (and it got chosen, yay!). Oh, and a happy beginning to all of you for Kataang Week 2020! *throws glitter and confetti*

----------x----------

The kitchen was filled with a mixed aroma of seaweed, herbs and noodles, all boiling in hot water. Katara added a pinch of salt into the broth and stirred the liquid with a big wooden spoon before taking a sip. From the corner of her eye, she could see the winged lemur, who'd quietly been sitting next to her feet for the past ten minutes.

"No, Momo. You can't have any until I'm done cooking."

Momo merely scratched the back of his ear with his hind leg, but otherwise didn't budge. Katara did feel bad for not giving him a taste before lunchtime. She wasn't even sure whether lemurs eat noodles, not to mention ones made out of seaweed..

And there it was again, the gentle rubbing against her shins. Momo began circling her legs in an attempt to persuade her to give him something to nibble on. Poor thing must be starving, she thought. If he was trying to make her feel guilty for not feeding him, it worked.

Katara released a heavy sigh and stepped away from the stove for a second, her small buddy padding right after her on the floor. She opened a cupboard door and grabbed the last moon peach from their dwindling fruit supply.

The constant following around nor the tiny gestures of affection weren't the things that had been driving the waterbender crazy. It was their pet's new habit of bringing live prey into the household. Last week, he'd caught dozens of bugs, five mice, three hamsters, two frogs and one unconscious bird.

Aang had nurtured the bird back to health and released it into the wild. The frogs weren't a problem either, so Katara had simply shooed them out of the house and they'd found a cosy habitat in the pond in front of their home. Luckily the bugs were also typical inhabitants on their little island, and the ones Momo brought inside eventually became dinner for the domesticated frogs.

However, it was the rodents who'd soon found their way into the pantry. Within a day, almost half of their pastry supplies were gone. Katara was furious. She had to ask her husband to buy more food from the market, and her brother to come up with ingenious traps to catch the annoying critters without killing them, like Aang had pleaded, before they could destroy their entire food supply, not to mention the vegetables in the greenhouse.

What really got on her nerves were the times the winged lemur would approach her with that proud smile on his face, something apparently dead caught between his small fangs or in between his paws, and release his catch right in front of her feet. Only for her to watch it scurry away before she could even blink, let alone catch it.

"This is the last one. Here you go," Katara said as she squatted down and extended her hand. She felt confused when the lemur pushed it back.

"Don't you want it? C'mon, it's your favourite treee-eat.."

She threw the peach into the hallway like a ball, in hopes that Momo would leave her alone to go fetch it. He did fly out of the kitchen for long enough to let her return to her cooking, but came back with the fruit fully intact between his fangs.

"Well, go on. Eat up!" Katara urged him with a wave of her hand, but Momo let out a disappointed moan and drooped his ears at that. He dropped the peach in his paws and with the utmost care, he pulled off a small piece and offered it to her instead.

"Thanks, Momo, but I'm not craving for a moon peach right now. You can have it."

The lemur hesitated at first, but under her watchful eye, he finally bit into the juicy fruit, allowing her to finish preparing lunch for herself and her husband in peace.

Speaking of peace, Katara couldn't recall the last time she and Aang had been given a moment of privacy in bed for the past couple of weeks. Often times when waking up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, Katara would discover that she'd inched further away from her partner, due to a scrawny furball who always managed to squeeze himself in between their tummies, no matter the positions they were in. Or if their intimacy wasn't being disturbed, she'd wake up due to the curled up, personalized heater sleeping on her belly whenever she was lying on her back.

Since when had she become a magnet for winged lemurs? Did she smell of something that attracted them to her? Had Momo grown fond of her and simply wished to spend more time by her side instead of hanging out with Aang all the time? Katara had no idea, but all of this was becoming a bit much.

As she poured the steaming seaweed noodles into two bowls, Momo leaped up and landed on her shoulders. He curled his tail around her neck for support, then held a leftover piece of the moon peach in front of her face.

"Oh, alright.." she chuckled, snagging the small piece from his paw and putting it in her mouth.

"Thanks, Momo!"

She scratched him from below the chin with her finger, earning a series of content purrs from the lemur. Once the bowls were full, she was ready to join her husband in the living room.

Aang was leaning on the windowsill, admiring the view of Republic City straight across the bay, when he heard footsteps coming closer.

"Lunch is served!" Katara announced as she joined him. The airbender grinned at the sight of two steaming bowls filled with delicious food, watching how she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. The smell that accompanied her was mouth-watering.

"Finally! I could eat a whole barrel of noodles by now."

His wife giggled at that comment.

"Well, I hope we didn't keep you waiting for too long."

He walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a loving smile.

"Sweetie, I waited for you for a hundred years. I don't think you could ever top that record again."

Katara laughed wholeheartedly this time, letting him give her a quick kiss on the lips afterwards.

Aang tenderly ran a hand over her slight belly bump before beckoning her to have a seat on the couch with him so they could have lunch together. They both grabbed a bowl, along with a pair of chopsticks, and clinked them together like those snobbish citizens in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se would do.

"Dig in!"

While the couple indulged themselves, Momo hopped off Katara's shoulders and disappeared to a different room. She noticed the lemur fly off into the corridor, but didn't pay too much attention to it. At this point, she was grateful for any given moment she could get, just to be alone with her beloved.

"What do you think? Is it too spicy?"

Hailing from the Water Tribe, Katara had grown up with a blander range of foods available in the frozen landscape, with the exception of meat that was either cooked or fried, and seasoned prior to the devouring.

Hence she tried to spice up their plain meals, such as these noodles, by experimenting with adding various spices or herbs. Aang shook his head.

"Nah, I think it's really good. You might wanna go easy on the garlic next time. Otherwise, I'm afraid you won't wanna kiss me anymore if my breath stinks."

She laughed when he planted a greasy kiss on her cheek, after which she continued to slurp her own seaweed noodles.

Her attention turned to her feet when she spotted Momo, who'd returned from another one of his adventures. For a second, her heart dropped at the sight of a mouse caught between his teeth. Fortunately, it was just a toy he'd brought along.

"Momo, why are you bringing your stuff here? Do you wanna play?"

The winged lemur jumped up on the couch and supported his front paws on the waterbender's thigh, dropping the toy right into her lap. Katara stared at the fake mouse for a mere second before Momo flew away again.

"Wait! Where are you going? I was gonna play.. with you.."

She sighed, picking the toy up from its string of a tail. Aang could sense her frustration.

"What's wrong?"

Katara put her half-empty bowl on the table and continued to stare at the toy mouse hanging from her fingertips. She twirled the tail around, making the rest of its body spin.

"I don't know. Momo's been acting really strange lately."

"Strange how exactly?"

"He's always following me around and rubbing himself against me. Not to mention he's practically invaded our personal space in bed. I don't need to remind you that he's bringing all kinds of small creatures inside the temple every day.."

Aang's focus shifted from her complaining to the culprit himself. Momo had returned to the living room and he gleefully hopped beside the waterbender, this time dropping his favourite ball in her lap.

"..He brings me food even when I'm not hungry. And now, when I find a place to sit still for a little while longer, he keeps piling some of his toys around me."

Momo tilted his head and stared back at the airbender, almost as if he was trying to communicate with him. Tell him the motives behind his actions and all the mischief he'd caused within the last month. Katara picked up the ball he'd dropped.

"See?.. Aang, are you even listening to me!?"

"Sh-shh!" he hushed her, raising a finger to her lips so she'd quit yammering.

"What?"

He pointed down to her stomach. Both their eyes were fixed on the winged lemur, who lay down in the waterbender's lap and nestled the side of his face against her round belly, one ear covering it like a blanket. Momo looked up at the married couple, then shut his lime green eyes and began purring ever so silently. Aang started laughing, but Katara became even more annoyed.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Oh, Katara.. He can tell when you're in the family way. He's trying to take care of you and the baby in the only way he knows how - by acting as a daddy lemur."

Her face twisted through several expressions of anger, confusion and eventually, realization.

"So, that's what he's been doing this whole time? Tending to me as if I'm an expecting mommy lemur? Which I technically am, except for the lemur part.."

Aang reached his hand out to pet his caring companion. The winged lemur arched his back a bit and nuzzled his face against the fuzzy material of Katara's coat. His purrs become louder with each stroke.

"Momo can sense that there's life growing inside of you, so he's been acting like a proper papa lemur and looking after the unborn child and its mother. That includes bringing you food and stuff to play with to keep you well-fed and entertained."

Katara felt as if he'd opened her eyes to a whole different reality. She never thought that Momo's odd behaviour could be related to the fact that she's pregnant now. The timing fit, and Aang's reasoning explained the weird new habits.

"But, what about the snuggling? Why's he so keen on sleeping on my stomach?"

"He's trying to keep you and the baby warm. Also, since there are a lot of hormonal changes going on with you right now, your body's radiating more warmth in this area," Aang explained by running his hand over her bump, careful not to move the lemur's ear off of it.

"Which means your stomach is the perfect hotspot, literally. You're keeping him warm, too."

"Where did you learn all of that?" Katara wondered, her tone playful and curious at the same time. The cheeks on her husband's face turned crimson and he looked away for a moment, rubbing the back of his bald head awkwardly.

"I might've found some books about pregnancy on the top shelf of the bookcase in your office the last time I was waiting for you to finish work..."

She giggled and rewarded him with a soft peck on the cheek for being so caring and putting in more effort to understand this new "condition" of hers better.

"Thanks, sweetie. I appreciate you looking out for me."

Aang accepted her gratitude with a wide grin, and by snaking an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer. After that, she joined him in stroking the winged lemur, who seemed to be happily napping in her lap.

"Oh, Momo.. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He looked up at Katara and let out a short disgruntled screech that could've been translated into an 'I told you so'. She laughed at that.

"Oh, okay.. I guess you did tell me. I was just too oblivious to pick up on the signs."

Momo rested his head in her lap again and raised one of his ears above her belly bump.

"Why do you think he does that thing with his ear?" the waterbender wondered out loud, tenderly running her hand over the soft fur on the lemur's head.

"Maybe he's listening to what the little tyke is doing in there. Animals can hear sounds with a much higher frequency. Take my bison whistle, for example. We can't hear anything, but Appa always comes to me when I blow it."

"I doubt that Momo can hear anything else besides my stomach growling. I mean, the baby hasn't even developed a heart yet. Believe me, I've checked.. If anything, he might be able to sense its movements in my womb."

Katara was right. She was barely into the last weeks of her first trimester. As hard as she'd tried, she couldn't detect the baby's heartbeat through her healing abilities yet. And it was too early for it to start kicking her, too.

The only changes she could sense in her body were the slight weight gain, which led to her developing a subtle belly bump. Her breasts had become a bit tender, which meant that making love with Aang at night would be less fun for a while. Not that he wasn't being more gentle with her because of this.. And finally, some unusual cravings, which was probably why she preferred to cook spicier foods recently.

Either way, these slight changes were enough for Momo's paternal instincts to kick in. He rolled over onto his back and let the couple scratch his soft belly instead. The corners of his mouth curled into a content smile as he purred against Katara's tummy.

"Aww! I guess this is kind of endearing. Plus, this way the baby can get acquainted with one of its future furry friends, too. That's right! Yes, you can!" she cooed to the winged lemur, who rubbed himself against her thighs as he twitched with delight at her scratches.

"But no more mice in the house, okay? I'm capable of finding my own food," Katara said with a wave of her finger, to which Momo replied with another chirp. Translation - 'yes, madam'.

[monstersandmaw]

Female vampire x female hunter (sfw) - Streaming story

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Hey folks! Here’s the edited version of the story I wrote with your input on my Twitch writing stream. Names were suggested in the chat for Olena (the vampire), our huntress, and the black cat, so thank you! I hope you had fun watching the stream and watching how I write and work, and maybe we can do another one in the future if there’s enough interest.

This feels like a part one to me, so maybe we can continue it together? Also Olena is basically Striga from the Netflix Castlevania series...

Content: (POV vampire) snow, scheming cats, grumpy lesbian vampire, slightly daffy huntress, and a teeny bit of sass. Wordcount: ~2.7k

She’d seen a hundred winters like it, but the sight of dancing snowflakes as winter really sank its teeth into the landscape never failed to ease something inside her. The summers here were intense and hot, but in the dead of winter the sun barely managed to haul itself above the tall row of looming elms on the horizon and everything lay muffled beneath dense blankets of pristine snow.  

Her breath fogged against the leaded panes of the mullioned windows as snowflakes flailed around the dark courtyard beyond and she found her thin, dark lips tugging into a wry, private smile. Yes, winter was her time; it was a time of wolves and hunting; of long nights, solitary stars, and gusting winds.

As she shifted her weight - on the point of turning away from the worsening storm - her light, soft-soled fur boots sounding barely a whisper on the smooth, time-worn flagstones of the bastion which she’d called home for the past two centuries, a movement in the barbican gate caught her sharp eye. Scowling, she focused her gaze on the distant, shadowed arch below. Squinting past her own severe, pale reflection and the flickering of the fire behind her, her heavy, dark brows knotted a little more tightly together when she figured out exactly what she was seeing.  

“No,” she breathed, astonished. “No fucking way. A human? Out in this weather?”

Easy pickings, perhaps. 

It had been long enough since her last feed that the thought of hot, fresh blood straight from the vein enticed her out into the cold.  

With a grunt, she turned away from the window and stalked through the castle on long, lean legs, fur-trimmed cloak swirling behind her like pirate’s sail. It didn’t take much effort to haul open the monstrous, iron-studded castle doors, and the blast of icy air that hit her in the face barely registered. Narrowing moss-green eyes against the biting wind, she stepped out into the drift-riddled courtyard.  

Up ahead she thought she could make out the figure of a young, human leading a horse. “The fuck?” she snarled. While her body didn’t particularly need blood at the moment -  no burning thirst prickling the back of her throat - as she neared the human and caught the faintest traces of her scent on the wind the instinctive urge to feed sparked a dull throb in her canines. It didn’t help that the woman’s pulse was rabbiting, but she could ignore that for now.  

The next scent she caught was the sour tang of horse, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Still, the human seemed to have noticed her at last because a voice that would have been too faint for human ears rose above the yowling of the wind a moment later.  

“Oh by the gods,” the young woman practically whimpered, staggering a little into the body of her chestnut horse who seemed to be a little lame on the nearside fore, head nodding with each step. The syncopated motion set a nicely-made, tooled leather quiver rocking on the saddle, revealing a decent number of arrows. The woman was a hunter then, and either her horse had gone lame before she’d managed to shoot anything, or she wasn’t very good.  

Olena stilled and let them approach her, a single, incredulous eyebrow raised.  

“I know it’s late!” the woman continued, tugging fruitlessly on the reins of the mare who had planted her feet and refused to take another step.

Animals could usually sense the supernatural, and this mare clearly had more sense than her owner when it came to marching up to a predator uninvited and introducing itself.  

“But, Buttercup here threw a shoe about half a mile back and it’s twisted the clenches a bit, and I didn’t want to keep riding her with one shoe off, so I got off and walked, but then it got late, and dark, and the snow started to worsen and…”  

Olena remained perfectly still, wondering how the woman’s mouth could be moving so quickly when the rest of her seemed half frozen.  

“So… uh… any chance we could find some help here? At least a roof over our heads til tomorrow? I don’t mind sleeping in the stable with Buttercup. Well,” she added tilting her head a bit and patting the mare’s shoulder, “Maybe not with with, because I don’t want to get crushed, but… you know… On a hay bale or something.”

After a brief pause while Olena’s brain tried to catch up with the sheer speed of the woman’s speech, she said, “I think we have a spare trough for you.”

For a split second, the human didn’t react and Olena wondered if she had, finally, frozen in place. Her eyes were wide and brown, somewhere between the colour of honey and hazel, and she blinked a few times before spluttering, “Wait, are you serious? You’re gonna offer me a fucking trough?”  

A tiny smile played at the corner of Olena’s mouth but she resisted the urge to let it blossom into something more expressive. With a quick jut of her chin, she indicated the stable block - mostly disused these days - and muttered, “Stable the mare in there. When you’re done, come up to the castle.”  

Without checking to see if the human had any more questions or spontaneous monologues to spout, Olena turned on the spot and left her to it.  

As she paced steadily through the falling snow, the vampire’s keen ears caught the soft sounds of the hunter nattering on to the horse - something about creepy castles and grumpy noblewomen - followed by the raucous squeak of the stable door as it opened, the clop of the mare’s hooves on hard stone, and then she was back at the castle doors herself and passing beneath leering carved gargoyles and grotesques.  

She debated fleetingly with herself as to whether she should close the doors again, partly so that the drifting snow didn’t pile up in the hallway again, but mostly so that Luna didn’t decide she wanted to go out all of a sudden, and then disappear for hours, only to turn up in the middle of the day, mewling to come in with something unmentionable dangling from her needle-sharp teeth.  

“Bloody cat,” Olena muttered fondly.

It had been a while since she’d been in any real position to gauge a human’s strength - in any context - but she had the feeling that this woman was probably stronger than her slim build suggested. Perhaps she was wiry rather than slender. A life where someone needed to come poaching deer in the forest, rather than having fine meals made, had a tendency to tip a person towards a leaner constitution. It was a build that had always appealed to her, despite certain expectations that someone as tall and muscular as Olena would prefer someone softer and altogether more delicate. Not that she’d given herself the slightest occasion to sample any kind of pleasure from any kind of woman in the past century or so, but that was on her.  

Despite the thickness of the castle walls between the entrance hall and the kitchens below, Olena could still make out the stump of the woman’s boots as she kicked off the worst of the snow before slamming the doors closed behind her with an echoing boom that shattered the stillness of the castle.  The vampire only realised once she was standing in the empty kitchen that she had no food fit for humans whatsoever. Perhaps there was a solid wheel of what had once been cheese lurking in a far corner of the cellars, but other than offering her a freshly-caught mouse, courtesy of Luna, there wasn’t much to bring up other than a pitcher of water.  

She shook a jar of something that could have been black tea a hundred years ago, but given that it resembled little more than mouse droppings, she returned it to the shelf and left the kitchens with the jug of water and a small earthenware cup. The human would have to be grateful for the fire and the shelter, if not the food.  

With footsteps quieter than even the cat’s, Olena’s progress along the stone corridors was unmarked by any eyes, save for perhaps a stray spider lurking in the vaulted ceilings. It hadn’t been until the strong heartbeat of another being had entered the halls that she’d appreciated quite how alone she was here. Memories, distant and dusty, of parties and gatherings filtered back to her through the layers of dust that seemed to cling to every surface of the castle, and something old and stale and painful stirred inside her at the sound of that new, fresh heartbeat.  

Mixing gradually with the steady rhythm of the new heartbeat came another sound. A soft voice, hoarse from the cold, hummed an old melody from the region that Olena was certain no one alive still knew, and the force of it hit her squarely in the chest. The last person who had sung that in her presence had been gone for nearly two centuries now.  

From her abrupt halt in the corridor, she caught the faint thrumming of another heartbeat. A moment later and Luna coiled softly around her ankles in silent greeting before fluffing up her tail and pricking her black ears forwards, suddenly alert. Then, bold as brass, she trotted into the drawing room, taking a direct path over the rug in the centre of the room, and introduced herself to the hunter without preamble.  

The human’s gentle warbling cut off the moment she spotted the cat, and she let out a little chuckle, crouching down into a childlike pose that almost drew a smile from Olena. She’d clearly been drying her russet-brown hair in the heat blasting off the fire in the grate, and Olena’s green eyes darted instantly to the soft curve of her now exposed neck.

Unconsciously, she licked her lips.  

The colours of the flames glimmered enticingly on the sliver of bare skin, dancing first gold then to a deeper amber.  

Her pulse beat steady and strong.  

Olena blinked and licked her lips again.  

Concentrating harder on her senses, she realised that the ferrous tang of blood tinted the air, and she deepened her habitually stern scowl. The hunter hadn’t seemed hurt. Honing her focus still further, it was with a strange sense of relief that she realised that the blood was not human. A second later, she spotted the source. A tiny mouse had been deposited on the hearth rug, and she grimaced. Luna had clearly been hunting and had left a present there for her on her return.  

The human, upon spotting the grim little offering, pulled a face and then, to Olena’s surprise, laughed. “Well, you did better than me,” she said, scratching the cat under the chin as Luna tilted her dark, fluffy face upwards for a moment before coiling languorously around the stranger’s ankles like a shadow come to life. “So far I’ve caught absolutely nothing.”

It wasn’t until the raucous purring of the traitorous cat reached her ears that Olena realised she’d been standing there staring like a suit of armour for too long.  

The human finally noticed her presence, jumping quietly and gasping, which startled Luna a little. In rebuke, the cat bristled and stalked away. She was acting as if this new arrival to the utter stillness of their castle meant nothing at all to her, though Olena could see that she was secretly fascinated with the human. Remembering how long the cat had taken to warm up to her in the first place brought a fresh sting to her chest and a bitterness to her mouth.  

She rolled her green eyes and shot the cat a look, but Luna just ignored her.  

“Cute,” the human grinned, and Olena frowned, swivelling her gaze to the human and pinning her to the spot with a well-practised glare.  

“Excuse me?”

“Your cat,” the hunter said with a surprisingly girlish giggle for someone dressed like a soldier in supple leathers. “She’s cute.”

Olena had only the merest grunt in answer to that. “I can’t offer you anything to eat, but if you’re thirsty, there’s water. Or wine.”

The hunter tilted her head slightly, more curious than offended. “No servants to cook for you?” she asked archly. “Did you send them all away for the winter festivities and now have no one to feed you?”

She felt her features tighten in response - the urge to flash her fangs at the sheer audacity of this frail little human surged hot and bright in Olena, almost blinding her for a second before she reined herself in.  

The human, however, was apparently not finished. “Or perhaps you rely on the scraps your cat brings you?”

She was the next thing to letting her eyes flare red. Instead, she ground her jaw and set the pitcher of water down on the table near the fire without a word, and left the room.  

Luna, clearly unused to all the drama, let out a soft ‘mrrrp’ from the depths of the squashy chair where she’d apparently set up camp for the evening, and the hunter looked over at her. “I know,” she grinned. “These aristocratic types are so touchy.”

Olena’s last thread of patience snapped and she whirled on the spot. “What would you know?” she hissed, voice low and dangerous, and for the first time, she saw the spark of apprehension begin to kindle in the human’s eyes. The reason this castle was echoing and empty made her insides ache. “Perhaps you should have stayed in the stables if you’re so picky…”

The hunter’s mouth opened and shut a few times before she finally croaked, “Look, I’m sorry. I was out of line. You didn’t have to let me shelter here for the night.” She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, Olena’s eyes instantly tracking the movement, before adding, “I’ve got some supplies in my saddlebag. I can eat those.”

And with that, the human turned on her heel and left the room.  

The absence of her heartbeat in the vacuum left behind left Olena reeling.

In the days of the castle’s former life, no one would have dared to speak to her like that, and yet, in the snows of winter, a desperate and chilly huntress had just talked back at her like they were village teenagers scrapping over nothing at all, and had abruptly flounced out. If she’d known what Olena was - who Olena was - would she still have been so bold?

Feeling petulant, Olena just let her go, but once she’d heard the doors slam, she slumped down into a fire-warmed chair and let out a long breath and did her best to ignore the nagging sensation at the back of her mind, and forget about the human altogether.  

Luna, however, had other ideas.  

The cat refused to settle, and eventually she trotted from the room and disappeared with a flurry of her black, fluffy tail. “Oh you too, huh?” Olena growled at the cat’s retreating back. The wind had picked up, tugging at the turrets of the castle and battering the glass of the windows with a steady hail of ice and snowflakes, and with a deep, regretful sigh, Olena stood.  

“You’re right,” she grumbled to the memory of the cat who was now nowhere to be seen. “I wouldn’t leave a dog out in this weather…”

The wind caught her full in the face as she cranked the castle doors open one more time, and almost all evidence of their earlier journey across the courtyard had been obliterated by the fresh, gusting snow. The main doors to the stable block had been battened down against the weather, but she had no difficulty in opening them.  

A warning whicker from the mare - who names a horse like that Buttercup anyway? she mused - alerted the human to her approach, and Olena caught the rustle of straw as she stood, heartbeat ticking faster. She could taste the woman’s fear on the air now.  

By the time she reached their stall, the human was on her feet, expression set in a wary glare.  

“You shouldn’t sleep out here.”  

The hunter blinked. “Where else am I supposed to sleep? I’m not staying up in that creepy castle with you.”

Olena almost admired her guts. “Well, it’s that or frostbite. Your choice.” And with that, she headed back to her ‘creepy castle’ alone. Let the stubborn human freeze if she wanted.  

However, she was gratified to hear a short squawk a few seconds later, followed by the crunch of boots in the snow as the human barrelled after her at an unsteady run. “Wait!” she yelled over the fierce wind. “Wait…”

Olena’s footsteps halted and she half turned to look over her shoulder. The human’s cheeks were flushed with the cold, and her breath swirled upwards like campfire smoke before the wind whisked it away.  

“Wait,” the human panted, heartbeat thundering out now despite the noise of the wind. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Olena,” she replied, setting off again.  

She didn’t have to ask for the human’s in return because the audacious young woman just blurted, “I’m Annika. Please don’t call me Anni though. It’s just Annika.”

“Annika,” Olena murmured, finding that she rather liked the shape of the name on her tongue. “Annika.”

—

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[sw124]

[Lamia-Bitty Daily life!9]

/entitled parents/

Hello my Lamia lovers how are all of you, good I hope. Welp its that time again, a fair warning to everyone who has something that entitled people want. Yes thats right everyone another story about how low humans can sink for things they want.

And this....involves not just my boys but my friend Casey and her boi Zipper, a few others.....and a woman who will do ‘anything’ for her (more spoiled then two month old milk) daughter...even attempt to steal.

Ok folks on with the story:

So Casey had invited me an my boys out to eat with her, Zippy and boyfriend Roy. Now normally I don’t like going out with people but...Casey is a friend and she took the time to invite me. An given the fact I was stuck at home most of the time, an it wouldn’t hurt for my boys to go out too. So I agreed, she said wear something warm like a hoodie (or sweater depending) an to have something for my boys to keep warm with.

Now this was my first time meeting her boyfriend, she told me he’s an Exotic dancer. Yeah, yeah I know get those Magic Mike thoughts going, first time I met him....phew now I see why she likes him so much. He’s got a slender built body, abs you can grate cheese on and-...sorry that’s not important anyway he’s hot we’ll leave it at that. She introduces us and we move to the back, apparently Roy is friends with the owner and other workers here. He secured us a private venue in the back for us and the Lamia’s.

[this is before the lockdown and distancing]

Turns out the whole idea here was the beginning stages of a ‘Lamia party’. Sort of a way for Lamia owners to come together or a way for new people to meet who share a common love of snake like creatures. Right now it was in the planning stages an Casey wanted to start with just us an another individual. The restaurant is a sushi/hibachi place called Ryo Coast, very pretty place. Anyway our server and private hibachi chef is a friend of both Casey and Roy, his name is Juan an he brought his Lamia too, a beautiful Krait, full sized too.

{Lots of full-sizes around I noticed in my neck of the woods}

Juan an I really hit it off when he introduced our Lamias, turns out his Krait is named Virgil! I laughed when I told him Dante’s name, turns out he loves the Divine comedy as much as I do. It wasn’t just us who hit it off but Virgil, Dante and Chip REALLY hit it off well.

I had just ordered a lovely seaweed salad and was sharing it with my boys, everything was going great.....when we heard it...

“LAMIAS!!!”

We turn to see a girl, about 10 by the fence [the venue was outside] an was jumping all with joy seeing our kiddos. Now normally this wouldn’t be a bother for us, one of the things of owning a Lamia ya know? We give her a little wave an so do our boi’s before going back to our appetizers. I was about to feed more of my appetizer to Chip when the girl started yelling.

10yr: Come here!

I look to see Zipper slithering towards the girl but stopping half way when she yelled again, Casey didn’t notice so I get up and walk over and pick Zipper up before he got too upset.

10yr: Hey put him down I was gonna pet him!

Me: I’m sorry sweetie but he needs to eat-

10yr: GIVE HIM TO ME!

Yeah at this point the girl starts throwing a nasty tantrum, Casey had come over an taken Zipper back. [He got scared by the kid]

I roll my eyes and turn to walk back, we ignore the kids nasty behavior and tried to enjoy our food. I looked to see the girl had stomped off, though my gut told me this wasn’t the end of it. I turn to Juan and asked if there was someone watching the entrance outside, he assured me we were fine an the only way to the outside venue is through the owner. I was relieved somewhat, but my past two experiences with these people always leaves me edgy.

Dante was doing his best to calm me down by trying to get me to eat more of my appetizer, it worked and I was feeding him and Chip some avocado. It was a little too distracting cause I didn’t hear the ‘Ahem’ coming from the fence.

“AHEM!”

I heard it that time, I looked an there was the little girl again and now she had her mother. She was standing there with arms crossed, nose up in the air and smelling of the nastiest odor we all call ‘smug’. I look at her an already she was glaring daggers at me, Chip was tightening his grip on my arm.

[His way of telling me to ignore her, but once you make eye contact there’s no going back.]

I turn to Casey an let her know I’d be right back, now I should let you know I tend to forget things an I absentmindedly took my water with me while holding Chip in the other. I walk over but I keep my distance, you never know.

Me: Can I-

EM: Why didn’t you let my daughter pet your snake?

[Here we go...]

Me: Ma’am, we’re not comfortable with strangers petting our Lamias without permission an-

EM: I don’t care if your uncomfortable with it, your snake wasn’t!

Me: Ma’am the ‘Lamia’ your daughter wanted to pet isn’t mine, he belongs to my friend and she doesn’t want him approaching strangers without her-

EM: You were with him.

[Stop cutting me off woman....]

Me: {loosing patience} As I said, he’s not mine he belongs to my friend-

EM: Well your holding this one let my daughter pet him then.

Me: {well of patience has now dried up} No, we’re eating right now an I’m going back to eat please leave us alone.

At this point I was turning to go back when...I’m not joking the woman reached over and grabbed Chip by his arm and tried to yank him out of my hold. I panicked I admit an dropped my water breaking the glass, I pulled Chip into a bear hug as the woman tried to pull him out. I was about to yell when who should come to our rescue then the hero’s of the Divine Comedy.

Dante slithered up in front of me and ‘flared up’ at the woman before Virgil let out a loud ‘HISS’ for good measure. It worked an the woman let go, backing up with her daughter behind her. I sorta fall back on my butt when the woman let go, the others heard the commotion and ran up to help.

Chip was shaken up but alright, his arm was okay an so was his shoulder. Juan yelled he was gonna call the cops if she didn’t leave, the woman shouted back she was gonna do the same thing on us for ‘attacking’ her. But she turned tail when Juan mentioned the cameras.

Meanwhile I was shaking like a leaf, Chip was trying his best to calm me down with Dante. He was rubbing my back while Chip was rubbing my face with his hands, heck even Virgil was trying to calm me down too by rubbing my head. Once I settled down we all went back to our table, Juan had radioed his boss and let him know what happened. The owner came out to check on us an he said our meal was on the house tonight for the trouble, I politely refused it but he insisted.

After a little while we all were going back to eating, I asked Juan about Virgil, I noticed how he was quick to come to my aid. Now I’m not an expert but I do know Kraits tend to be more on the shy side. He told me that Virgil will only hiss he’ll never bite an he only does that when someone is in danger like I was in...or he perceives as danger. It was something the two of them worked on together, I thought it was sweet.

We finally started eating, I got sushi and grilled fish. Things were uneventful after that, dessert was ice cream mochi. We’d have to be careful about people like this from now on if we’re gonna do “Lamia parties” in the future. We’d need to reserve more private venues inside or something.

On a slightly higher note Juan gave me his number so we could schedule meetings for our Lamias, Virgil doesn’t get out much and he really seemed to like my boys and he likes hanging out with me, he also knows his boyfriend would love to hang out with me too so its a win-win for all of us.

Thats it for this story, to Lamia owners out there be very careful when going out you never know when someone might do something...also wear a mask and be safe.

[For adoptions please speak to @vex-bittys]

[domesticbucky]

Summer rain in Brooklyn

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader (Y/N)

Words: 3.6 k

Warnings! 18+ : Smut (soft smut, face sitting, praise kink, kinda sub!Bucky, handjobs, blowjobs), a hint of angst, 1940s Bucky in love 🤧

Summary: Bucky and Y/N get caught in the summer rain on their way home from work.

AU where Bucky survived the train, and went on to live in Brooklyn and work at the docks.

Notes: Hi! This is the first fic that I post online and it is entirely self-indulgent (and also my first smut!). English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes. Please give me back some form of feedback if you feel like it! Or don’t, I’ll be around anyways (hopefully). If you are not 18+, go away now!!! Go have a juicebox, idk.

Enjoy!🥰

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June 1946

The smell of rain makes Bucky pick up his pace as he walks through the familiar streets of Brooklyn. It had been an exhausting day at the docks, carrying crates and moving boxes until his shoulder ached and his soul longed to come home. Breathing out the last sea and motor-oil scented air, he turned to 7th Avenue and smiled to himself; a few more blocks and he’d finally get to see her.

Y/N had taken a part-time job at a bakery in South Slope for the summer. It had been almost a year since the war had ended but the owner’s son still hadn’t returned. Bucky admired her for her diligence and compassion, the way she never hesitated to help others, simply because she believed it was the right thing to do. Her salary was meager at best, but the old baker would always give her whatever loaves and pastries didn’t sell that day to take home with her, and she liked listening to his stories from when he first came to New York, so many decades ago. Bucky liked to think of him as a father-figure of sorts, a man that gave away his little pieces of wisdom, acquired over the years, the same way he gave away misshapen loafs of bread to soldiers too beaten up by the world to make their own.

A draft of cold air goes through his sleeve and reminds him of how beaten up he is. Carved on his left shoulder is the physical reminder of what would have surely been a deadly drop into an icy ravine in Italy, had Steve not managed to grab his arm and pull him back into the train. His left shoulder had become one with the wrecked metal casing of the train for a few moments, but he was grateful and almost happy that he had lived to tell the tale, even if it meant that he would carry those metal fragments in him forever. The slight ringing in his ears, the underlying feeling of his body feeling unusually stronger, and the nightmares were a different story, though. He would have gladly left those things back in that war-ridden continent, instead of bringing them to his home, with the rusty fire-escapes and familiar faces and the smell of freshly-baked bread…

He is just outside the low bakery door when he sees her grabbing her bag and giving the old baker a kiss on his wrinkly forehead. He briefly wonders if she will one day get to kiss him as an old man, if whatever experiments that Swiss bastard run on him will ever let him grow old and wrinkly, but his mind never finishes that thought because she is suddenly throwing herself in his arms.

”Hey Sarge, missed you”. Bucky shivers, not from the cold breeze that promises gentle summer rain, but from the feeling of her in his arms, after being apart for the day. Y/N’s hair smells of fresh bread and sugar, and for the few seconds their embrace lasts, Bucky feels like he’s home already. They pull apart to gaze into each other’s eyes lovingly. Home, he thinks again, before tugging her close again and whispering his affections into her ear. It’s Y/N’s time to shiver, and Bucky, delighted in her reaction, gives a smile and a wave to the old baker, and tugs Y/N towards the direction of their small apartment.

”C’mon Sweets, we gotta hurry or else we’ll be soaked faster than Stevie finds trouble”, he says decisively, the countless times he’s saved his little (now enormous) friend flashing through his mind as Y/N giggles. She intertwines their fingers as they walk, her palm soft in the way hands get after kneading dough and mixing sugar with spices all day, his hand ragged but invitingly warm. She lifts their intertwined hands to place a loving kiss on his worn knuckles, bruised from the day’s work, and a wave of emotions hit him in the chest. He is now even more eager to reach their little home, where the cheap curtains shield them from nosy old ladies, where the pillow cases have their initials embroidered on the side, where he can love her all he wants and the way he wants, without shame or pretended innocence. Because at this moment, he is hungry for more than fresh bread.

The first drop catches him off-guard, thoughts of how he will love her once their rickety old door closes making him tune out everything that isn’t Y/N. The second and third come in quick succession, and Y/N notices too, pausing from telling him about the little joys of her day to let her eyes follow the path of a droplet as it travels from his high cheek bone to his strong jaw, then dipping low to continue on his pretty neck, and finally disappear on the hem of his worn shirt. There’s hunger in her eyes, but it quickly turns into surprise, as the next few drops bring a myriad more, until the droplets of water running down both of them become one with their skin and clothes.

”Dammit, I thought we were gonna make it home before it started”, Bucky says in mild annoyance, as Y/N lets out a giggle.

”Laugh it up doll, but I think we are gonna be soaked before even making it past the next corner. And then you might catch a cold, and I hate seeing you sick”.

Y/N pulls them in a back alley, underneath what looks like a homemade roof extension to the balcony above them, and pulls Bucky for a hungry kiss.

”But you’ll take care of me, right baby? Give me those special kisses and love me ‘till I get better, right Barnes?”

Her voice is low and dangerous, but there’s vulnerability in it too, and Bucky can’t help biting his lip to stifle a groan.

”I’ll do anything for ya, dahlin’, feed you, bathe you, carry you and kiss you until you feel good as new, better than ever before, and then I’ll kiss ya some more ”.

It’s Bucky’s turn to lean in for a kiss, and he tastes soft summer rain and longing for more on her lips, so he gently licks along her plump flesh, silently asking for more. Y/N gladly accepts his warm tongue, gliding hers along his and softly sucking the wet muscle until Bucky lets out a sound from somewhere deep in his chest, and his hips move forward to find her figure.

He pulls away to stare into her eyes, pupils blown wide, and the rain doesn’t matter anymore.

”Honey, doll, sweetheart, let me take ya home”.

He is panting like crazy, his voice desperate as Y/N places her hand on his jaw, squeezing his chin and dropping her gaze to his lips every few seconds.

”You’re gonna be a good boy for me, kid?” she responds, her hand on his chin gripping him steadily, as her other hand moves upward to brush back a few strands of wet hair sticking to his forehead.

He manages to utter ”yes, my love” through parted, kissed-out lips, and she drops the hand previously clutching his chin to pet his sternum.

”Then take us home, Barnes”.

Bucky lifts her on previously weak knees and throws her over his right shoulder, a day’s worth of strain doing nothing to spoil the moment, as he takes off in the rain to their direction of their tiny home, with her laugh echoing off the brick buildings of Brooklyn.

----

By the time he reaches their building he is laughing too, caught up in the euphoria of sharing such a special moment with her, free of worries and anxieties, free to be playful in the gentle summer rain.

He drops her on her feet, his hand rummaging through his worn-out trousers, looking for the key. Y/N’s eyes gaze at him appreciatively, from his long legs to his broad back, his plush lips and the gentle turn of his nose, down again to his pretty neck, the curve of his waist, his thick thighs and, finally, the strain of his arousal against the fly of his work pants, the outline of it visible as Bucky searches deep in his pockets. His hand emerges with the rusty old key and he lifts his gaze from their frayed doormat to focus on the next task at hand, getting them inside as fast as possible.

Y/N pulls him from the collar of his shirt as soon as the door is locked, and drags him to their bed, repaired over the decades to provide comfort to the newest generation of Barnes’, dressed in sheets his ma’ gave him a few days after he returned from the war, embroidered by Y/N to ”make this place feel like home”.

The moment his back hits the familiar sheets, his day of labour comes crashing on him, Y/N’s warm and wet figure providing comfort and security but not quite healing his tired body. Running through the dear-old streets of Brooklyn with her in his arms had been fun, but he is afraid that standing up again is an impossibility with every press of Y/N’s lips on his collarbone.

Y/N notices his tired demeanor and the way he doesn’t respond as enthusiastically to her ministrations as she’s used to. A look to his face and the dark circles framing his still hungry eyes tells her exactly what Bucky needs tonight.

Bucky still makes an effort to sit up and meet her lips, but her hand is quick to press against his chest, his shirt wet, still, with gentle summer rain, and stops him.

”Sit back baby, let me take care of you”.

Bucky plops back down on the bed and the old thing moans with the added strain of his weight. There’s appreciation in his eyes, and they have gone glossy with all the love and adoration he feels for her. She smooths her fingers over his dark circles, before her fingers slowly card through his messy wet hair. He visibly sudders and closes his eyes, content to have her touch him, even if he craves so much more.

Slowly, Y/N sits back on his lap and starts undoing the buttons of her dress. Bucky runs his hands over the sides of her thighs, feeling the goosebumps that rise on the wake of his touch. The summer heat combined with the shortage of nylon due to the newly-over war had left even some of the most conservative ladies in the streets of Brooklyn no choice but to forego stockings, and Bucky couldn’t help but appreciate the feel of Y/N’s skin underneath his fingertips.

Y/N tugs her dress over her head, and Bucky wastes no time to move his hands higher and squeeze her hips, as he takes in her figure, glistening with the remnants of the rain that soaked through her clothes. Her undergarments are worn and plain, but Bucky thinks that she looks like a dream, the weight of her resting on his hips, her most private parts wrapped in silk.

Y/N shifts to hold on Bucky’s forearms as they explore her, while she gazes down at him from her spot on his lap. Soft wisps of light brown hair peek from the unbuttoned collar of his work shirt, and the droplets of water that hadn’t been lapped up by her mouth make his neck and collarbone glisten. She moves her gaze to his mouth, so full and plump and rosy, and as he squeezes her hips again and subtly grinds his hips up on hers, and she is overwhelmed with the need to touch him. She grabs his chin, resting her thumb on the valley between the soft muscles and rubs it between her fingertips.

”How tired are you, baby? Ok with you if I ride that pretty mouth of yours?”.

Bucky’s lips part a little more, as he lets out a responding gasp at her foul words, not quite used to the things she says in moments like this, but loving it all the same. If he was honest with himself, he loved her filthy words almost as much as he loved her praises.

”Please” he manages to blurt out desperately, the sight of his upper lip, curving as he utters his plea, making her throb in her undergarments.

Y/N shifts until her knees rest on either side of Bucky’s head, his cold, wet hair contrasted by the way his eyes stay obediently fixed on hers, and the feel of his warm breath as it hits her core with every heavy exhale.

She examines the way the late afternoon light coming from their small bedroom window catches on his glistening lips and pretty eyelashes, before she tangles her hand through his messy hair and gives him a nod of approval.

Bucky follows her silent request, and places soft kisses on her covered mound as she lowers herself on his chin. His tongue darts out to taste her through her silk underwear, and soon his kisses turn sloppy. His teeth snag on the garment, wet with rain and her arousal, and he keeps it in place as she lifts her hips upwards in order to remove it. Once she’s out of it, she takes it from Bucky’s mouth and gives him a loud and sloppy kiss on his lips, before she resumes her previous position.

”Such a good boy for me”. Her hands run through his jaw one more time before she lowers herself on his mouth again, and Bucky groans as his cock throbs in his trousers at the first real taste of her. He’s spent many times between her legs like this over the past few months that they’ve been together, but there’s always something so thrilling to him about the way she reacts to his ministrations. He loves to please her, and takes pleasure in seeing her feel good. He loves the way she tastes, the way she moves and the sounds she makes, and he loves being good for her.

Y/N tugs at his hair harder, as his mouth grows bolder. His open-mouth kisses against her core have turned into full on french kissing, and she is left breathless as she recalls all the times he has kissed her mouth that way. He proceeds to suck her clit every once in a while, but focuses his efforts into getting his tongue lower, where her taste is stronger and her moans come out lower. He is now painfully hard in his confines, and there’s an embarrassing amount of precome on his underwear.

His nose bumps against her clit with every movement of her hips. Her climax fast approaching, Y/N grinds on Bucky’s mouth harder than before, as he lays obediently on their embroidered pillows, groaning and moaning, and takes it. His enthusiastic actions have ceased, as he opts to keep his mouth and tongue in the best position for her to get herself off. With a final tug at his locks, Y/N grinds down hard on his mouth, and Bucky feels her gush her warm release on his tongue. He laps at her gently, as she comes down from her high, holding her steady as she pants above him.

He places a final kiss on her mound as she pulls herself off him, and plops down on the bed next to him, spent and satisfied. She takes another minute to catch her breath, turning her head to look at the way his chin glistens as he licks his lips.

Y/N glances at his crotch, the bulge there prominent as ever, and feels a new wave of arousal at her lower stomach at the sight. She turns to her side and straddles him once more.

Bucky lets out a grasp as she presses down on his hips again, his cock finally receiving some sort of friction after a long time, and his hands fly to her bare hips again. Y/N is busy unbuttoning his shirt, the clarity provided after receiving a release allowing her to work on the buttons much faster than he would. He shivers as the shirt is removed from his torso, the late afternoon breeze, cooled by the ongoing rain, caressing his flushed skin. Y/N’s hands are appreciatively gliding up and down his chest, making him release high-pitched whines when she passes over his nipples, hard from arousal and the cold air of the room.

”So pretty...” Y/N mumbles before she leans down to capture his right peak into her warm mouth. Bucky’s responding moans grow louder as she moves to suck and gently bite the other nipple. He whines when she lifts her face from his chest, and Y/N places a finger on his pouting lips.

”Hush, kid, let me do this for ya”, she says while gazing at his pleading eyes. Y/N knows that Bucky must have reached his limit by now, so she deftly unbuttons his pants and reaches her hand inside his boxers, finding him hot, heavy and slick.

Bucky groans loudly at the feel of her hand on him, and throws his head back as she lazily strokes him a few times.

”So hard for me” she says appreciatively, her grip a little firmer.

”It’s all for ya, dahlin’, baby-” he gasps back, the ending of the word baby choked off as she squeezes his base, and Bucky almost panics, as he feels his climax just around the corner already.

”Sweetheart, my honey, love of my life, dearest girl, please-”. Bucky is incoherent at best, but Y/N is swift to hush him once again. She takes him out of his boxers completely, and expertly twists her wrist as Bucky’s slurry words escape his parted lips, deep red and chewed raw.

”It’s ok, baby, you can let go”. She picks up her pace, her other hand leaving it’s place on his abdomen to cup his balls and tug them in time with her twists.

Bucky’s hands desperately clutch the sheets, his groans and the slick sounds of Y/N’s hands on him drowning out the sound of the rain against the half-open window. The way he’s twitching on her hand tells Y/N that he is close, so she lets the hand working on his cock move to clasp one of his hands as her mouth takes over, the hand on his balls squeezing encouragingly.

Bucky gasps as his hips move from the bed to buck in her mouth, one hand grasping the sheets and the other holding on Y/N’s for dear life. She feels his balls tighten and his cock throb violently before his release floods her mouth in spurts. She savours the taste of his release on her tongue, sucking him dry gently before moving her mouth to leave kisses all over his spent member. She gently laps at his balls and leaves a few kisses on his thighs before moving higher up, to press her lips against his left shoulder, lovingly, conveying all the sweet emotions she feels for him. She finally lifts her mouth from the scars littering his left arm to press one final soft kiss over his heart, feeling the muscle beating wildly inside his chest.

”You were so good for me, baby” she whispers in his left ear, and feels him shiver as she presses a soft kiss there as well. She leans back to look at him, finding his flushed face, his cheekbones glowing from sweat, and finally his eyes, glossed over from both the events that took place moments ago, and his love for her. Lips parted, still fighting to find his breathing, expression relaxed but unreadable.

”You okay, kid ?” she asks, concern joining on the affection evident on her own features at his lack of answer.

”You make me feel like the luckiest damn fool on this planet, sweetheart. I love you so much.” he manages, his eyes holding her gaze as she breathes out a chuckle of relief.

”Wait ‘till I make you my famous cornmeal pancakes, you can shower me with compliments then!” she says through giggles. They are both too giddy to stay serious for long, but Y/N gives Bucky a smooch on the lips before taking his chin on her hand.

”And I love you, James Barnes.” she says, kissing the tip of his nose as he smiles, and climbs out of their bed to find one of Bucky’s shirts.

----

There are syrupy giggles and the smell of pancakes in the air of their cramped apartment half an hour later. Bucky is wearing his most comfortable pair of pants, one suspender on his right shoulder while the other sits bare in the remnants of the early evening light filtering through the living area balcony door. Loose, striped socks on his feet and a smear of syrup on his chin the only other things on his body, and Y/N thinks it just might be one of his best looks. His hair had been washed and combed hastily while Y/N was making the pancakes, and finds her fingers itching to mess it up again.

Bucky catches her staring, and gives her a shy smile, her intense gaze framed by the glow of the oil lamp on their coffee table. He is sometimes self-conscious of his scarred shoulder, his changed body, himself, but Y/N keeps looking at him like he is the sun itself. He disagrees of course, but he wants to do everything in his power to make himself worthy of her love. He knows, more than anyone, that life and love are precious things that can be taken from you in the blink of an eye. He knows that he will always doubt himself, but he wants to live, and love, with you.

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[severetimetravelnerd]

Change (ft.G Dragon and Yoo Yeon-Seok)

Part 10

When you try to apologise to Jiyong, things take an unexpected turn.

(I don’t own any of the gifs used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist: 

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​  

@starlighttaek8​

 Thanks guys:))

Please reblog if you can :)))

Also, there’s a bit of smut towards the end.

If anyone else would like to be tagged, you can either comment or leave me a message :)

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Well, to be fair, she wasn’t his ex. She was more of a friend with benefits. He didn’t have a serious ex. Most of them were flings. As he turned around to look at Sasha, he didn’t know how, but he knew he was going to hurt you with her help. He was snapped out of his thoughts as Sasha playfully asked,

 “What? Did the infamous GD get stood up?” 

She hit a raw nerve in Jiyong. He growled. Something in him snapped. He just didn’t want to think about what happened anymore. Without a second thought, he grabbed Sasha’s face and kissed her. Taken aback, she stumbled backwards, but he steadied her by catching her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She slowly relaxed into the kiss, and he took that opportunity to deepen it. A minute later, she pulled away, breathless, and said, 

“Do you wanna get out of here and go back to my place?” 

He didn’t even bother replying. He just grabbed her hand and walked out. The anger and lust were clouding his mind, but through all of that, the only thing his drunk mind could think was that he didn’t want anyone else except for you.

You were still at the hospital, waiting for your sister’s surgery to get over. As you paced around in the corridor, you kept checking your phone every two minutes. You were aching to hear from Jiyong. You felt terrible about standing him up, but your sister’s heart condition wasn’t something you wanted to explain to him over text. You also desperately wanted to talk to him, because you were scared. After your sister suddenly collapsed and her arrhythmia took a turn for the worse, you panicked and rushed to the hospital. You were trying to stay strong for your parents, but you also needed your support. You really wanted to just pour your heart out to Jiyong, but you were sure he was mad at you. Numb from all the exhaustion and worry, you finally sank into your chair. You were just about to spiral down a series of your worries when your phone rang. You jumped to answer it, and surprisingly, although you were hoping for Jiyong, when you heard Yeon-Seok’s voice, everything just came to a stop. 

“Y/N? I’m here at your place. Are you still at work?” 

The relief you felt at hearing his voice proved to be too much for you, and you just choked on a sob. Instantly, Yeon-Seok was on alert. 

“Y/N? Where are you?” 

Although he was keeping his voice tender, a sense of urgency rang through it. You barely managed to say the name of the hospital and he cut the call. You knew he’d be there in minutes.

Yeon-Seok walked in precisely ten minutes later. The moment you saw him, you just broke down and started sobbing. He sighed, bit his lip, and gently enveloped you in his arms. He just let you cry out all the worry and the tension as he held your quivering body close, gently patting your head. You were so weak from the worry that he was practically holding you up in his arms. Wrapped up in Yeon-Seok’s arms, the sense of familiarity and comfort began to calm you down. It was the small things. The scent of his cologne, the feel of his favourite sweater, the one song he always hummed; these were the things that calmed you down. Maybe it was because Yeon-Seok was the first person you opened up to in Seoul or maybe it was because he had never let you down, but in that moment, you were glad that it was Yeon-Seok there with you, and not Jiyong, because there was no one else who could’ve been a better shoulder for you to lean on.

The first thing he did after you calmed down was getting you a glass of water and a couple of snacks. He knew you wouldn’t have had anything in the middle of your sister being rushed to the ER. You protested, saying you weren’t hungry, but he shut you up with one glare. 

“Y/N. You know you would’ve beaten me up if I said that. I know you haven’t eaten anything in the past twelve hours. Now eat, and if you don’t eat it yourself, I’ll feed you myself! Consider yourself warned.”

 Knowing that he was right, and you probably would have beaten him up if he said that, you meekly took the food in his hands, and said, 

“Yes, Oppa.”

You had just finished eating, and admittedly, you were feeling a whole lot better. You were just about to thank him when your sister’s doctor walked out to meet you. All other thoughts vanishing from your head, you jumped up and walked towards him, eager to hear how your sister’s surgery went. As Yeon-Seok followed you, he noticed that you were walking with a slight limp. Looking closer, he realised that your heels were digging into your ankles, and they were all cut up. Frowning, he looked up at you, mentally chiding you for how absentminded you are, so much so that you didn’t even realise you were in pain. His frown only deepened when he realised you were rubbing your hands, trying to keep warm, because in the hurry, you had forgotten to carry a shawl for the dress. As you followed the doctor to see your sister, he shook his head and made his way to his car to get you a few things he thought would help.

When you came out of the doctor’s office, you were much more relieved. The surgery was successful, your sister was out of danger and just needed some simple medication to keep things at bay. You were softly smiling to yourself, with tears in your eyes, just letting the news sink in when you felt someone drape a warm, cosy sweater over you. You hadn’t realised you were cold, and when the warmth hit you, you let out a satisfied sigh. You leaned into Yeon-Seok’s warm arms. He looked down at you leaning against him, with your eyes closed, and smiled sadly. Of course he knew you liked Jiyong, and it killed him to see you when he knew that you’d never look at him that way, but he would do anything to keep you smiling, even if it meant to smile through the beginnings of his own heart breaking. Deciding to relish the small moments he would get with you, he gently turned you around and hugged you. You snuggled a little closer to him and mumbled into his chest,

 “Thank you.”

 Yeon-Seok just gripped you a little tighter and kissed the top of your head.

Yeon-Seok stayed with you the whole night. Although Yeon-Seok was exhausted from his last shoot, and he hadn’t slept in 72 hours, he just couldn’t leave you to handle this on your own. He stayed by your side the whole night, holding your shaking hands throughout. And just being around Yeon-Seok calmed you. No one else had this effect on you, but maybe that’s because there is no one else you trust more in this world. Slowly, your exhaustion got to you, and at around 4 am, you fell asleep on Yeon-Seok’s shoulder. You woke up at around 7 in the morning, and you saw Yeon-Seok had also fallen asleep, his head constantly falling forward. With a tender smile, you moved his head onto your lap and let him rest. You knew that he must have been exhausted for him to fall asleep like that. Absentmindedly playing with his hair, you look around. The waiting room was empty except for a few nurses here and there. You leaned down to pick up a bottle of water when you realised someone had taken off your shoes while you were asleep. Taking a closer look. You saw that someone also wrapped Band-Aids around the cuts you had from your heels digging into your skin. Overwhelmed with love, affection and gratitude for Yeon-Seok, because you knew he had to have been the person who did that, you started tearing up. Feeling you move around, Yeon-Seok also woke up. He groggily sat up, and with a voice thick with sleep, he said, 

“Y/N?”

 and when you turned to look at him, all teary-eyed, he froze. 

“What happened Y/N?”

 You sniffed, wiped away your tears, and smiled at him. With a slight hint of panic in his voice,

 “What’s wrong Y/N? You’re scaring me.” 

You didn’t reply, simply diving into his arms and snuggling close to him. Gripping his shirt a little tighter, you looked up at him, beamed, and said,

” Thank you Oppa. I love you.”

 Yeon-Seok thought his heart had stopped when he heard you say that. As he looked down at that happy, beaming face, that smiled at him with such innocence and love, he felt his heart break a little more. Maybe it was because he saw your pretty lips inches away from his face and wanted nothing more than to kiss them, but he stopped himself knowing you didn’t see him that way. Maybe it was because he forced himself to smile and say, 

“I love you too” 

knowing fully well that he meant it completely differently. Trying to shake off the negativity, telling himself to be grateful that you loved him in some way, he took your hand, smiled softly at you, and kissed the back of it before slowly intertwining it with his hand.

You turned up at work the next morning, exhausted from running on some three odd hours of sleep, but determined to fix things with Jiyong. You were sure that once you explained things to him, he’d understand. The challenge would be to talk to him in the first place. You entered his waiting room, bracing yourself for a cold Jiyong, but when you walked into the room, he just wasn’t there, and it left you feeling empty. That fact that he wasn’t there made you more nervous. Was he that mad at you? Did he not want to talk to you? You started looking around for his manager. Finally finding him, you tapped his arm and with an anxious look on your face, you asked, 

“Is Jiyong not coming to work today?” 

His manager gave you a look, one that was an odd mixture of curiosity and pity, and said, 

“He’s here. He’s in his studio.”

 Your face lit up and you were about to head up to his studio, when his manager stopped you in your tracks by saying, 

“But he’s specifically asked you not to go there.”

 You paused and looked at him blankly, as though you were unable to comprehend what was happening. You closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, gathered yourself and said, 

“Oh okay. I’ll be sitting there then.” 

And you walked off.

You had prepared yourself for an angry Jiyong, or a cold Jiyong, or even a Jiyong who was ignoring you, but you never expected him to refuse to see you. Of course, it hurts to be stood up, but you thought he knew you better than to actually think you wanted to stand him up. He had to know how much you liked him. You knew he would understand once you explained things to him. You had to stick around to see him. You couldn’t lose him. This was the first time you wanted to be in a serious relationship with someone. You can’t lose the only man who convinced you to give him a second chance.

And so, you waited. You would continue to wait until he called you, or he left that night. Everyone else left at around 6, but you stayed there waiting. Alone, tired, sad and worried, but determined to see Jiyong. You aren’t usually someone who would go this far to apologise to someone, but something was different when it came to Jiyong. You just had to explain things to him.

Jiyong knew. Jiyong knew you well enough to know that you’d be waiting. He wanted to make you feel the pain he was feeling, still not realising that the pain he was feeling was mostly from his inability to accept how much he liked you. Picking up his phone, he texted Mino and asked him to bring you along with him to work on his album in five minutes. Putting down his phone, finally feeling some amount of satisfaction, since all his planning had distracted him from his feelings, he looked back at Sasha, who was straddling him, and resumed making out with her.

 Mino had no idea Sasha was there, or that Jiyong was planning something. Innocently humming something, he went to the waiting room and saw you huddled up in one corner, head buried in your hands. Suddenly feeling an ominous feeling, he brushed it aside and cleared his throat. 

“Umm, Y/N, you okay?” 

Your head shot up and you scrambled to your feet. Rubbing your already bloodshot eyes and neatening your hair, you nodded and said, 

“Yeah, I’m good Mino. Don’t worry about it.” 

As the two of you walked towards his studio, Mino decided to try and lighten the tension.

 “Y/N, you better not make me put up with all your terrible flirting today.”

 He turned to tease you about Jiyong, but when you responded saying,

 “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that today Mino.”, 

he knew something was definitely wrong. Internally groaning and scolding himself for getting involved in another budding romance as the counsellor, he asked,

 “What happened Y/N?” 

Your voice was distant when you responded. 

“You remember my sister, right Mino?”

 He nodded.

 “She was rushed to the emergency room last night for a surgery. She’s always had an arrhythmia, but last night she suddenly collapsed. I got the call minutes before leaving for our first date.” 

You turned and looked up at Mino, smiling sadly. 

“I stood him up Mino, and he’s been ignoring me ever since.”

 Mino frowned.

 “What? Y/N, no. Hyung isn’t the kind of guy who’d hold something like that against you. I mean, your sister was in the hospital, for god’s sake.”

 He patted your back to try and comfort you. You looked up at him, eyes set with worry, and said,

 “Mino, you’re sure right? He will hear me out, right?” 

You desperately needed someone to reassure you. Mino turned and bent down to your level.

 “Y/N, trust me. I’ve known hyung for a while, and this is the first time I’ve seen him like someone like this. He has never been this serious about someone, ever. You are also the longest he has liked one person. Y/N, he cares about you, and there aren’t many people out there he can say that about.” 

Breaking out into an unsure smile, you playfully pushed into Mino to lighten the mood, and said, 

“Thanks Mino. You’re really good at this comforting business.”

 Mino rolled his eyes and said, 

“Tell me about it. You have no idea how many people I do this for. I should really start charging for my services.” 

and like that, you reverted to playfully teasing him about his side job as a counsellor, feeling a little reassured by his words. When you were turning the corridor just before Jiyong’s studio, Mino looked down at you, suddenly serious, and asked, 

“Hey, can I come with you to visit your sister after this?”

 Surprised, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged. 

“What? I’m worried about my friend’s sister. Why wouldn’t I want to go visit her?” 

You beamed triumphantly. 

“Aha! So, you admit we’re friends Mino!” 

He turned at looked at you with a deadpan expression. 

“Really Y/N? That’s what you focus on?” 

As Mino shook his head at your insistence on having him repeat the part about being friends, you pushed open the door, finally feeling a little bit relieved for the first time that day after reaching work. You were still looking at Mino, and so, before you could see what was actually happening, you saw his expression change from laughter, to alarm, to anger and then to disgust. As he reached out and tried to grab your hand and make you leave, you turned around and saw Jiyong throwing his head back, rolling his eyes back and bucking his hips, letting out a deep, throaty groan, all in the middle of receiving a blow job.

[geek-gem]

My Dog Passed Away Today

....I just want that title out of the way......but I wanna say something too. I’m not a guy while I do talk about my life sometimes or so. But I’m not a person who reveal big details. Especially of what I look like because I have some personal issues. Including you just wanna be careful with the internet. Despite two of my best friends talking about how it’s okay to show your face. 

But.....something happened today and it’s that title. Today we were having this huge party. It was for the graduates that graduated this year. Especially me, and many people were in the pool. It went on for I think 2 hours my mom said. It was a lot of fun. At one point our dog Jojo, an American Bulldog was let out of this area we put him in. He got in the pool twice. 

The first with many people in the pool. Basically that I recall they were cheering and glad he was in there. The second time he got in, two kids one of them being my niece was trying to water him and give him water. Despite it looked like she was trying to feed him water with a shovel. But it was nice to see him get that love and even being petted. But someone I knew but forgot said he seemed really hot. I think one of my family friends or my cousins girlfriend but I think family friend.....

So afterwards he was laying down under a palm tree. Then later I got out and was sitting on my towel on a couch...but when one of our family members or whoever was checking on him. She was having her kid play on a swing that I recall. She was wondering about him and I thought he was tired. But when I got there and just well...he wasn’t moving. She even felt him and said I think it didn’t seem like he was breathing. I even checked him and hoped I would hear a heartbeat....it felt like nothing. I even rubbed his stomach with my left hand.....then people were gathering and wondering....I was just outside. Even with my mom and dad checking on him...

I didn’t wanna believe him...I hoped it wasn’t true. But I was glad we had one of my family friends who was visiting saying stuff like he laid under a palm tree or something just this is too much details.....

When I got out there and I needed to know....heard my mom sniffing or so....she looked at me(and think she looked sad and might of sniffed) and said he passed away. 

Even when I was inside....I told myself we should of let him inside more, Including I even told this to my mom and me saying I was a terrible owner, that I thought he may of never loved me. That I never prepared for something like this. I was guessing we would of put him down later in life. But she told me he was a 100 in well dog years which I asked or something......

I was actually crying....if I recall my mom said it was okay. But I said I was nearly 23 years old. With me again saying I don’t think he may of loved me. Because I mainly just fed him. She didn’t want me to look at dad holding him by what appeared to be his legs. Told her I was expecting him to carry him bridal style. I even offered to carry him but they didn’t. He put Jojo in the back of his truck.

Yet my mom was helping me or so. I said I am a man but she said it’s okay for a man to cry. But it’s the fact that I even said I handled myself better when her father died. Even told my mom, “Fuck the Summer” and that even before then the Vets should of been opened. His right eye looked weird. 

Listen he was a big dog, I didn’t play with him much. He was I guess kind of lazy but I shouldn’t say that. But if I recall my mom and others told me he lived a full life. Again he was a 100 in dog years. I mainly fed him every day as much as I can. I worried and thought if I fed him too much. But just....it’s hard.

I am grateful my family and family friends were there to offer some reassurance. But I just felt angry....even said pain, misery, and suffering...I didn’t want the kids to see me like this. Luckily I took a shower. My dad told me they were gonna bury him in the backyard. But heard him mention backyard when I was done in the shower. Even asked my mom what do they do with a dead dog when I was outside....

While I didn’t see my brother much. Looked like he was affected too. He saw his corpse, but my brother was hanging out with his friends. His eyes were red and I even told my mom when the reveal was still fresh. I was telling her it shouldn’t end like this. I’m talking about the party....

I’m just grateful many people were helping out my mom clean up...even my nana was upset. Even mentioned the five stages of grief or so and I may of passed them already. But I’m just still upset.

But I’m just grateful and it feels symbolic that his last hour or his last moments. It was being surround by love, and he had got under a palm tree. I recall my mom telling me he died in his sleep. Think I even said at least or so that’s better than being put down. 

I’m sorry this is long. At one point told my mom’s sister I might start drinking yet I’m not too serious. Yet she said no don’t drink or so. Even told my mom I don’t even know or just how do you tell the kids(my niece and nephew).

Again people were supportive. I felt a bit upset when my dad confirmed he didn’t have his fair share of pets dying when I asked if he had that happened. But my mom’s sister has had some pets died. My mom just came in to see if I was okay. Told her I’m doing okay I think. Yet also told her I’m gonna be in my room for a while. Along with her saying she’s out there if she wants to talk that I recall.....

Here are two photos I took of him that I would of shared with someone on Twitter of them asking to see pictures of our dogs to make him happy.....amazing this is sadly perfect timing.

The first was taken June 4th, and the second was taken June 18th.

He loved laying down there in the heat. Kind of like chilling in the sun. Especially on those rocks. The past some days he was being let in because it was getting so hot....I’m glad I kept these images...I’m definitely not gonna take a picture of his corpse because that’s fucked up. But I may take a picture when he’s buried. 

Told my mom when we were outside I think at least no it was I don’t want another dog after this. I remember that I didn’t want a dog. But it was surprise that my dad got him.....I didn’t know how old he was but 100 years.....they said he lived his full life. That’s appreciated honestly. Think I may of said at least I don’t have to feed someone everyday but I forgot and that sounds stupid.......

He was a good dog. Oh my eyes a bit at times when making this. Even though I guess he was a lazy dog. But again he was a good dog. I’m sorry to say this but I felt I may know the pain Doomguy felt with Daisy....

Rest in peace Jojo. It was nice having you. 

I’m wondering if I should tag this with my username tag and Jojo. But jojo is a tag and just....it’s maybe best or so not to. I just wanted to share that with all of you if I may not post some things or whatever else. I’m sorry this got long.

[here4theheartbreak]

The Fairy Garden (NamKook)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Namjoon Genre(s): fluff Rating: General Audiences (G)

Tags: fluff, fairy AU, fairy!Jungkook, fairy!Jimin, werewolf!Taehyung, getting togeher, first kiss

Summary: When Namjoon opened The Fairy Garden, the last customer he expected was an actual fairy. Word Count: ~10.9k

Running his own business was Namjoon’s dream. It wasn’t until he was a teenager, and discovered the true joy of nature and growth and all things green, that he realized running a natural business was his destiny.

Starting hadn’t been easy. His parents thought he was crazy, his friends rolled their eyes. But Namjoon proved them wrong. He was the proud solo owner of The Fairy Garden, an organic store selling herbs, supplements, plants, and gardening tools.

Some months were slower than others, but the business had a good client base, a great online presence, and word of mouth was always positive. Namjoon went out of his way for his clientele, and it showed. Whenever someone new came in the story was the same. So and so said I should come here for any of my garden needs. Can you help?

So when the tall, muscular boy with a streak of rainbow gradient in his black hair walked in with an obscenely bright pink flower in a pot, Namjoon barely blinked.

“Can you help me? I heard you can help plants.”

“I can sure try,” Namjoon said. He pushed some magazines and papers to the side of the counter. “What’s going on?”

“She’s really sick. She won’t eat anything and she hasn’t bloomed in days.”

Namjoon scowled. He took the plant from the boy, turning it in his hands. “What… Is this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never seen a flower like this, do you know its name?”

“Sure, we call her Serendipity.”

“No, I mean..” Namjoon set the plant down, scratching his forehead. “Like the breed.”

“Oh, she’s a Faun Spit.”

“Fawn… Spit?”

The boy nodded. “Mhm. Do you think you can help her?”

Namjoon looked at the plant. It seemed like it had shrunk a half inch even in the few minutes they were speaking. “I’ve never worked with one of these before, but I can certainly give it a shot. No promises though.”

The boy beamed brightly, and Namjoon felt his heart skip a beat. He’d never seen a more brilliant smile. “Great! Thank you.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

“And number?”

Jungkook laughed a little. “I don’t have a phone. Why would I?”

“Well, I- I mean — It’s 2020. Doesn’t, everyone?”

“Humans maybe.” Jungkook wrinkled his nose, showing his front teeth in a cute smile. “Humans are weird. Even with the sight, you’re all so silly.”

Namjoon blinked owlishly. He adjusted his glasses. “Well, I need to contact you - if the plant gets better, or worse.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll come by in a few days to check.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Suit yourself. Anything else I can help with?”

“No… I’d be so grateful if you could save her… She’s my favorite girl,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll certainly try.”

He nodded. He stroked the flower’s leaves gently for a moment before nodding and hurrying toward the door.

“Wait, is it poisonous?” Namjoon called after.

“Not if you don’t get her spit in your mouth.” Jungkook said. He hurried out before Namjoon could question him further, leaving the shop owner staring baffled at the door.

***

Namjoon poked his head over the stack of books on his desk when the door to his room opened. He did have an apartment, but most nights he was at the shop so late it made no sense to go home, so he set up a room in the basement. More than once his friends had made various Little Shop of Horrors jokes, and given his current predicament with this strange plant, he was starting to worry a little himself.

“Joon?”

“Over here,” Namjoon called. Yoongi waved. “What’s with the bookstore?”

“This plant. I’ve never seen it before and I can’t find it any books.”

“Oh no.”

“What?” Namjoon looked up, taking in Yoongi’s panicked expression.

“Where did you get that strange and interesting plant?”

“Well, I was in the shop and—“

“Was there a total eclipse of the sun?” Yoongi pressed, his mouth curving up into a grin.

“No, I—“ The connection hit Namjoon then and he scowled, picking up a pair of pruning shears from the desk. “You know these are sharp, right? I will stab you.”

“Sorry, Seymour. Just too good to pass up,” Yoongi teased. He didn’t flinch even when Namjoon jabbed the shears toward him in a mock threat. “Anyway, so where did you get this thing?”

“A man came into my shop today with it. Real weird kid, really handsome…”

“That so?” Yoongi smirked. He shook his head. “So what’s wrong with it?”

“Sick. It’s wilted even more in just the few hours I’ve had it. But I don’t know where to begin treating it. The soil is damp so I know it’s not too little water — But it doesn’t seem the right type of plant to survive in a desert or even dry environment. Based on the colors and petals I’d say it’s something tropical, so hot and wet are kinda the go to.”

“Aren’t they everyone’s go to?”

“You’re a pig, thank you,” Namjoon said, waving his hand. “So I don’t know.”

“Well - What did the plant in that movie end up needing?”

“You know damn well what it needed. Blood.” Namjoon hesitated, glancing at the shears on his desk. “Blood…”

“You aren’t gonna cut yourself on a plant, you fool,” Yoongi scolded, yanking the shears off the desk.

“No, of course not. But iron. What if the soil itself is the problem?”

“How would you check that?”

“Easy enough.” Namjoon rose, circling around Yoongi to dig around a few shelves. Yoongi approached the plant, picking it up. “It looks like a neon pink like... that weird bug eating plant you have upstairs. If you ask me.”

Namjoon glanced over, scowling. “Bug eating—You mean my sundew?”

“Is that what it is? The one that always looks wet.”

“Yeah – Why do you figure?”

“Well the flowers. I know the real attraction is the leaf stuff that closes up, but it’s got those pretty little flowers. If those were bigger and leathery like this one, they’d look close. Especially if you folded them up a little like a bud thing.”

Namjoon circled back to Yoongi, taking the plant and examining it closer. “You know… You’re actually right. I wonder if this plant is carnivorous.”

“How can you tell?”

“Feed it a bug, mostly. The boy did tell me not to get any of its ‘spit’ in my mouth. I thought he was being facetious, but now I’m wondering if he meant whatever it gives off to consume its prey.”

“Its spit? Dude… That kid sounds like a freak.”

Namjoon shrugged. He sat back at his desk, grabbing a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers to peek closer at the plant’s leaves. “What did you come by for, by the way?” He asked, brows creased as he examined the plant.

“Just to check up on you. You weren’t home so I figured you’d be here.”

“I’m okay—Did you think something was wrong?”

“Funny feeling.” Yoongi sat down across from him, shoving a few books out of the way to place his elbows on the desk. “How are you anyway, Joonie?”

“Eh. One day at a time. Arguing with my parents again.”

“Over what?”

“The usual. This shop. They hate that it’s successful, by any standards. I’m not rolling in the money so they consider it a failure.”

“I feel like that’s just how their generation is. Mine are the same.”

“You make a ton with your photography,” Namjoon argued, poking at a leaf with the blunted tip of the tweezers. He made a small noise when it curled weakly around the metal. “And you figured out the plant’s species, at least – So that narrows my search for a fix.”

“I make some. Most of what I make goes back into the business – cameras and software and development tools, as well as marketing. I make enough, but I’m not living easy. It’s why I do the vet stuff.”

“You do the vet stuff because you’re a giant softie for animals and you just won’t admit it, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m just gonna leave if you’re gonna go around insulting me like this.”

Namjoon huffed without really responding, flipping through one of his books. “Either way though, I’m fine. This plant is gonna give me grey hair if I can’t save it though.”

“Hm. Why?”

Namjoon hesitated, fingers twitching above the page. He scowled at the book, and then turned the look to Yoongi. “I don’t know.”

“You’re passionate about flowers but not like this. So maybe it’s the boy that brought you the flower.”

“Most definitely not. I don’t flirt with my customers.”

“You ever seen him before?”

Namjoon shook his head, rising to gather something from the shelves.

“Did he pay in advance?”

“Of course not,” Namjoon said, standing on his tip toes to grab a jar.

“So then he’s not a customer yet. What did he look like?”

Namjoon didn’t bother to hide the small smile on his face as he sat back down with the jars. “Tall, broad… Longish hair, dark but this wild streak of rainbow, I’ve never see hair dyed so bright. Big brown eyes and this smile that… I don’t even know how to describe it. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Do not. I’m not dating one right now.”

“Might be, if you get the balls to ask out plant boy when he comes back for this one.”

Namjoon opted to ignore Yoongi this time, focusing instead on the plant. He heard Yoongi rise, barely sparing a glance as he flopped down on his bed, intending to make himself comfortable until Namjoon was finished. Not that he minded; Yoongi was Namjoon’s best friend, and had been since high school. They had done everything together and stayed close even into adulthood despite their very different career paths. They had come out to one another at sixteen, and even shared a first kiss on an attempted date – but realized that their affection was no more than brotherly when it was by far the most awkward experience of either’s life.

Namjoon didn’t have the heart to tell Yoongi that that had been his only actual date, even now eight years later. Sure, he’d had one night stands but, dates… Never. As he worked, his mind wandered to the strange boy. Jungkook. He had such a cute smile, and a bright gaze that was almost otherworldly. What would happen if Namjoon did ask him out. Aside from being beaten to a bloody pulp if the guy was straight, of course. But the rainbow in his hair… And just the general feeling that Namjoon got from him. Safety.

“I’ll ask him out,” he finally mumbled.

“What?” Yoongi’s voice was thick with sleepiness; Namjoon realized he’d likely been sitting in silence far longer than he realized.

“I’m going to ask Jungkook out when he comes back.”

“Tell me how it goes. I’m sleeping here.”

“Leave room in the bed for me,” Namjoon said. He got a grunt in a response, but Yoongi rolled over to one side of the bed, burying himself under the blankets. Namjoon continued to work until he could keep his eyes open no longer.

***

It took three days for Jungkook to wander back into the shop looking for his plant. When he did, Namjoon was sitting at the counter, filling out the upcoming month’s order form.

“Did you—”

“Jungkook!” Namjoon beamed. “I’m glad you came by. Great news.”

“You saved her?”

Namjoon hopped off the stool. He hurried to the nearby window, tripping over a stray cord and barely keeping his balance. He plucked the plant from the sill and turned, holding it out. “Good as new.”

“What was wrong?” Jungkook asked, hurrying over with a bright grin on his face. Namjoon smiled crookedly himself, drinking in how perfect that expression was.

“Just bad soil, mostly. I transplanted her into some healthy soil, and added some fertilizer and food. She’s carnivorous, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Make sure you supplement her diet too. Catching dinner in the wild is easy for carnivorous plants, but in captivity, we gotta help them out a little. Spiders or beetles if you don’t want to do too much feeding, I know it can be gross.”

Jungkook nodded eagerly, holding the pot close to him. “I can’t thank you enough. What do I pay you?”

“Uh… Oh it’s, twenty-five. But… I’d be willing to call it even if..” Namjoon froze then, his voice sticking in his throat. Was he really about to do this?

Jungkook tilted his head, his eyes bright and curious, focused entirely on Namjoon. The bright streak in his hair had changed, still a rainbow, but a more pastel gradient now that complimented the dark of his eyes in a stunning way. “If what?” Jungkook pressed.

“If you’d—A date,” Namjoon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“I am.”

Jungkook bit his lip, glancing Namjoon head to toe. “I’ve never dated your kind before.”

“My—My kind?”

Jungkook laughed then – a peal of high, wild laughter that took Namjoon’s breath and made his heart skip a beat.

“Sure,” Jungkook said. “But you gotta pick the place. I don’t any human places to eat.”

“Human?” Namjoon scratched the back of his head. “Sure. You have anything you don’t eat?”

“Hm. Nope. I’ll eat anything. Bit of a scavenger. When?”

“Tonight? Six?”

“I’ll be here.”

Namjoon nodded. Jungkook leaned forward, placing a kiss against his cheek that was far more delicate than expected. Namjoon gasped, the edges of his vision fading a little. He barely focused enough to wave as Jungkook skipped out of the shop, flower in his arms.

Namjoon was surprised when Jungkook rushed back into the shop only three hours later. His cheeks were pink from exertion, his hair mussed.

“Jungkook? Are you okay?”

“Do you have wolfsbane?”

“Wolfsbane? Why?” Namjoon scrambled to his feet, circling around the counter.

“I need it.”

“Jungkook, that plant is poison.”

“Not to me. Not to my kind, please, do you? Dried, powdered, fresh – doesn’t matter.”

“I might. Maybe. But you have got to be careful with this stuff, Jungkook. Do you know what it can do?”

“I know it can save my friend.”

Namjoon scowled. “You—Jungkook, you’re sounding a bit manic.”

“You don’t have the sight do you?” Jungkook asked. His mouth turned down into a scowl. “You are just a human.”

“Well yeah, so are you. What are you talking about?”

“Wolfsbane. I don’t have time for this.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a handful of paper money, dropping it on the counter. “Here, you humans ask for this. Please.”

Namjoon sighed. He nodded and hurried into a back room, donning gloves and shuffling through some of his more dangerous plants. He normally kept a few on hand; there were some collectors that often wanted fresh products or ones to crossbreed. Finding the rich, purple flowers, he snagged the pot and rose. He grabbed an extra set of gloves and headed back out, placing the pot on the counter and holding the gloves out to Jungkook.

Jungkook made a face of annoyance, his mouth in a fine line and his eyes narrowing. He batted the gloves out of the way and reached out, plucking one bud from the plant bare handed.

“Jungkook!” Namjoon cried, panic knotting his stomach.

Jungkook dropped the bud into a small jar, sealing it and pocketing it. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt the plant, it’ll regrow.”

“I’m not worried about the plant, you fool, you’re going to get poisoned!” Namjoon reached for Jungkook’s hand.

“No, I won’t. I’m not human.”

“Wh—”

“I have to go; my friend needs me. I’ll see you tonight.” Jungkook rushed out. Namjoon chased after him, smacking his hand painfully off the door as he yanked it open. He looked left and right, but could find no sign of which direction his strange suitor had gone in.

The next few hours were spent in peace in the sense of the shop, only a few customers, regulars, and no serious plant related crises. But Namjoon was a wreck. He kept replaying Jungkook’s actions and words – grabbing the poisonous plant with no care, ‘I’m not human’, ‘you don’t have the sight’. What the hell did any of that mean? Namjoon wondered if Jungkook would arrive for their date, or if he’d see on the news a young man with pastel rainbow streaked hair was in the ER due to Aconite poisoning. Would he be held responsible? Would he be charged? The cameras in the shop would show he tried to hand Jungkook gloves. Surely he couldn’t be held accountable – he warned him. The worry devolved into anxiety as the clock ticked closer to closing time. At five he closed shop and hurried home, showering and changing before heading back.

Just as the clock struck six, a knock sounded at the door. Namjoon perked his head up immediately, beaming when he saw Jungkook’s face through the window. He scrambled to his feet, opening the door and stepping out into the evening.

“You made it.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Of course I did. I owe you a debt.”

“That’s… The only reason you came?” Namjoon asked, a twinge of guilt and self-doubt twisting his stomach into uncomfortable little knots.

Jungkook shrugged in response. Namjoon felt any shred of excitement that was building deflate.

“Oh… Well, I’m… I’m sorry, then. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” He backed up a little toward the door. “Look, you overpaid me today for that flower. Why don’t we just call that payment for the plant too. You don’t need to do this.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, his lips pushing out in a small pout. “Why not? I thought we were gonna go eat?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to do this if you’re just doing it because you feel like you have to. That’s not what I wanted.”

“But I’m hungry.”

Namjoon blinked at Jungkook’s response. He tilted his own head a little, as if looking at Jungkook’s face from a different angle would answer what the hell was up with this strange young man he’d somehow found himself involved in.

“Who are you?” Namjoon asked.

“Jungkook? Who are you?”

“No… You… There’s something about you. What is it?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You say such weird things. And today with the wolfsbane.” He pointed to Jungkook’s hand. “That plant is toxic. You should be sick. But you’re fine.”

“I already told you, I’m not human.”

“That’s what I mean, Jungkook. What are you? Are you crazy? You look human.”

Jungkook smiled softly. He reached out, touching Namjoon’s cheek. “Humans are so sweet. But their minds are limited. I didn’t mean to get you involved. I was mistaken – I thought you knew about us.”

“Us? Jungkook, please. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not. You just know things you shouldn’t.”

“Stop!” Namjoon snapped, and Jungkook startled, shying back. Namjoon took a steadying breath, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, I just—You need to stop speaking in riddle. Please, I can’t handle this. I’m sorry.” Namjoon turned, fishing for the keys to the shop to let himself back in.

“Wait,” Jungkook said softly.

“I didn’t mean to make you come out like this,” Namjoon mumbled, struggling to get the key in the slot. His hands were shaking.

“Please wait, Namjoon. I don’t want you to go. You were so kind to me. I didn’t mean to scare you. I… I was like this because I thought you knew what I was. I’m bad at what I am. I always have been. Everyone thinks I’m a failure and now when they find out I revealed us to a human, I—I’ll be a laughing stock. But you were still so nice and I’m sorry I’ve scared you. I was excited about our date. I’ve never been on a date with someone at all… Not just never a human. Please don’t leave.”

Namjoon hesitated as Jungkook spoke, staring at the keys in his hand. He looked over his shoulder, meeting Jungkook’s large, pleading eyes. In the setting sun, they looked far brighter than they’d been in the store, almost amber colored.

“What you are.” Namjoon turned, crossing his arms. “Tell me what you are.”

Jungkook hung his head. “Well, I’m a fairy.”

Namjoon stared at Jungkook. The punchline would come any moment now, he was sure. When Jungkook remained quiet and stoic, his eyes wide as he searched Namjoon’s face, Namjoon blinked.

“What?”

“A fairy. You asked, I answered.”

“But—No, you—Fairies aren’t real.”

“Yes, they are. I’m one.”

“You’re like six feet tall. And you don’t have wings.”

“Well, I do. But I can hide them. They’re far too big to have out and about in the world. Plus, can you imagine what the humans would say? And not all fairies are tiny, that’s just a myth. You humans come up with some pretty silly stuff.”

“You’re insane.”

“Not really. A little crazy, probably, from all the fairy dust, but, not insane.”

Namjoon shook his head, backing up against the door of the shop. “Fairies aren’t real.”

“Well…” Jungkook shrugged. “You’re standing in front of one, so… How do you explain that?”

“You’re lying.”

“I can’t lie. Curse of my kind.”

“Bullshit.”

“I really can’t. Ask me something a human would lie about.”

“I—” Namjoon went quiet, unsure. “I have no idea.”

“Anything.”

“Wh.. Do you cry during movies?”

“Regularly. Something harder than that. That’s nothing to lie about.”

“I have no idea!” Namjoon cried. “You could be lying about anything. How do you prove you aren’t?”

“Should I show you my wings then? Unlock the door. I don’t want another human to see.”

“No, this is nuts. Just… Go.” Namjoon turned, his heart pounding a mile a minute. He unlocked the shop and rushed in, pushing the door closed before Jungkook could enter. Jungkook stood outside, looking at Namjoon through the glass.

“Please,” he mouthed. Namjoon swallowed hard. He shook head.

“Go away.” He locked the door and hurried down the stairs, fear and nerves clouding his mind.

Namjoon didn’t leave the small work room downstairs until the next morning when it was time to open the shop. He rubbed his tired eyes as he climbed the steps, having barely slept. The things Jungkook had said weighed so heavily on him. The boy had to be mentally ill – there was no such thing as fairies. But he’d spoken with such conviction. And he seemed so normal otherwise.

Namjoon went to the door to unlock it, and did a double take. Jungkook was sitting cross legged by the door, his chin to his chest as he dozed. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, implying he had not moved from the spot. Namjoon yanked open the door, startling Jungkook.

“What the hell?!”

“You’re back.” Jungkook rose, trying to straighten his wrinkled shirt. “I was waiting for you.”

“It’s morning!”

“That’s fine. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Well now I’m just worried.” Namjoon dragged Jungkook inside. “It was cold last night.”

“I don’t feel the cold the same way.”

“Don’t start that shit again.”

“We’re inside. I’ll show you them.”

Namjoon bit back a sigh. Maybe if he humored the kid, he’d let him get some help. “Fine, you can show me, but when you do, then it’s time for you to go. A doctor maybe, or the hospital…”

“Why would I need a hospital?”

“Jungkook – You don’t have wings. You’re… Something’s… Going on.” He tapped his own temple for emphasis. Jungkook only grinned.

“You’ll see. Just wait.”

Namjoon crossed his arms, nodding. “Fine. Show me these wings.”

Jungkook’s nose crinkled. He glanced out the window at the quiet street. Seeming satisfied, he shook his shoulders loose and took a deep breath. Namjoon cocked an eyebrow, wondering what was supposed to happen. Before he could consider saying a word, a breeze shifted through the shop, ruffling his hair and clothes. In front of him, Jungkook seemed to shimmer for a moment before settling. Same black clothes, tousled hair with a streak of rainbow, same crinkly smile… But new was the set of green and blue wings, extending at least a foot above Jungkook’s head and down to his knees. They were heavy looking, thick like the skin of a bat, but at the same time sheer, Namjoon could see the shop through some spots when they shifted. Jungkook’s eyes had changed too – into a bright amber color, vibrant and very inhuman.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and landing on his ass. Jungkook gasped, moving forward. The wings caught a little air, lifting his feet from the ground for a second. He crouched, looking at Namjoon worriedly. “Are you alright?”

“You—Those are wings!”

Jungkook smiled. “Well, I said I had them. I told you, I can’t lie. Do you like them?”

Namjoon reached one shaking hand up, touching Jungkook’s shoulder first. He extended his arm further, brushing his fingers over one of the wings. It was silky smooth, like the petals of a rose. The wing twitched under Namjoon’s touch and Jungkook giggled a little. Namjoon yanked his hand back.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said. “They’re just sensitive. It tickles. You can touch them.”

“I’m dreaming.”

Jungkook reached out and pinched Namjoon’s cheek. He hissed in pain. “Ow! What was that for!”

“Aren’t people supposed to pinch themselves to prove they aren’t dreaming? It’s real.” Jungkook rose and tugged Namjoon up, going almost nose to nose with him. “I’m a fairy, Namjoon, just like I said. I’m sorry I got you mixed up. Your shop… It’s the Fairy Garden. I just… I assumed you were a human that could feel our… Presence.”

“Presence?”

“The sight. Like.. Some humans can sense we’re not human and build stuff like this for us. I’ve always been kind of a crappy fairy – I’m not surprised I couldn’t tell right away that you were just a normal human. Are you okay?”

Namjoon frowned a little, his brows furrowed. “No. I mean… I think I’m in shock… I—I don’t want to believe you but…” He touched the wing lightly again, and Jungkook gasped a little this time, stepping closer to Namjoon.

“But this is… I’m feeling this, it’s real.”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “I’m real.”

“So what now?” Namjoon asked. “Do I—Is it safe for me to know?”

“Would anyone you know believe you if you told them? Would you tell them?”

“My best friend maybe… But he’d never believe me.”

“Then it’s safe… But… Namjoon, I still owe you that date.”

Namjoon laughed a little. He let his hand drop. “You should put those away – I could get customers at any second. We’ll talk.”

“Hm… Yes.” Jungkook stepped back. Again, his body seemed to shimmer in front of Namjoon’s eyes, and suddenly the wings were gone.

Namjoon blinked. He circled around Jungkook, touching his back. “Where do they go?”

“They’re just… Away.”

“So am I like… Walking through them or something?”

“No. It’s kind of like folding them up like a bird? But they shrink a little. Lift my shirt up.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” Jungkook reached back and grabbed the hem of his shirt. Namjoon sighed but obeyed, gasping. Jungkook’s back was tattooed with the same intricate designs on his wings, the colors vibrant on his tanned skin.

“Wow…”

“That’s where they go.”

“I—I don’t know how to process this.”

Jungkook turned and smiled, setting his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders. “You can ask me anything, okay?”

“Are you—I mean you’re this… How?”

“I was born, same as you. Just my parents were fairies. We’ve been around for ages, as long as humans – longer probably. We’ve always lived among you guys, you just don’t notice.”

“What do you do?”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon shook his head. He walked over to the counter and began to set up for the morning. “I mean, in the stories fairies are either good and help or they’re tricksters. So what is it? What magic do you have?”

“Hm, well, we can’t lie. We can fly. We are very good with plants, normally – But I’m not so good… We help the other supernatural creatures among us.”

“Others?”

“Wolves, shapeshifters, chimera, even some lost demons and spirits… All sorts.”

“That’s not all real…”

“Why do think I needed the wolfsbane, Namjoon?” Jungkook went over to the counter and leaned on it. “My best friend’s a werewolf.”

“Isn’t wolfsbane supposed to kill those?”

“That’s a legend. And a bad one. It helps the sick ones. See, he got stuck in his last turn. We can’t figure out why. He can’t shift back, but the problem is if he stays as a wolf too long… He’ll be stuck forever and lose his humanity.”

“That sounds… Awful.”

“It is. The wolfsbane staves off that final shift. But either way. We’re helpers. We also help humans that seek us out, for a price… And I guess sometimes we scare humans who are trying to help.” He smiled almost shyly then, and Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry I flipped out. This is so much.”

“I get it. But I wasn’t lying when I said I did want that date. I want to get to know you, Namjoon. Even if you are a human. You feel nice to be around.”

“You… Feel nice too,” Namjoon admitted, surprising himself. “But won’t your… People be mad? You dating a human?”

“Nah. I’m not a very good fairy, like I said. They wouldn’t be surprised. So… Can we try that date again?”

Namjoon smiled softly. “I’d like that… Yes.”

“Tonight?”

“Deal. Six.”

“Okay… But… I have something happening tonight with my people. How about I take you?”

“What? No. I’m—Jungkook, I couldn’t.”

“Why not? Are you scared of us?”

“A little.”

“Don’t be. The only ones you gotta worry about are the gnomes, and they won’t be there. Just my family. It’s sorta a tea party.”

Namjoon chuckled. “A fairy tea party?”

“We’re quite fond of them. And we make amazing food. Please?”

Namjoon looked down at the counter, trying to weigh his choices. Jungkook was… So endearing and now that he knew he wasn’t insane, he really did want to try this. But… Fairies. He sighed. “What do I wear?”

Jungkook grinned. “Casual. But good shoes, we’ll be going into the woods. I’ll pick you up at six.” He leaned over the counter. Instead of pecking Namjoon’s cheek, this time he pressed their lips together.

Namjoon gasped, his heart picking up three speeds. Jungkook pulled back much too quickly, and Namjoon chased his mouth for a second, blinking dumbly. Jungkook smiled.

“Wow…” He bit his lip. “That was nice…”

“Yeah…” Namjoon swallowed hard. “Normally that comes after the date.”

“Hm. But I wanted to know what you tasted like. I’ll see you tonight.” He grinned and hurried out, throwing a glance – and an accompanying laugh – behind him as he did.

Namjoon was twice as nervous as he got ready for dinner that night. The initial failed date notwithstanding, Namjoon had no clue what he was in for with the fairy tea party. He could still feel Jungkook’s mouth on his own though, even hours later, and he longed to not only feel that kiss again… But hopefully get to know the boy that had given it.

As with the night before, Jungkook was right on time, this time wearing a bright, fluffy sweater that Namjoon instantly wanted to cuddle against to see if it was as soft as it looked. He beamed when Namjoon stepped out of the shop.

“Not gonna run from me this time, right?”

“No. I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Are there any customs or… Anything I need to know?”

“Not really. Don’t touch anyone’s wings but mine, we’re all pretty sensitive about our wings. Oh, and there’ll be a few other kinds of beings there… Try not to stare too much, okay?”

“Will there be other humans?”

Jungkook nodded. “Mhm, my Jiminie has a boyfriend who��s a human. He’ll be there. And probably a few others that are close with us. So you won’t be the only one.” Jungkook took Namjoon’s hand and led him down the sidewalk.

“So how far away is this place?”

“Right here.” Jungkook waved his hand in front of them.

“I… Am not seeing anything but the street.”

“Trust me?”

“Well, you did show your wings to me. I guess I owe you trust for that.”

“Good. Hold my hand tight.”

Namjoon scowled but did as Jungkook requested. Jungkook nodded and stepped forward. The air around them seemed to get heavier and tighter, squeezing the breath from Namjoon’s lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to breathe. Jungkook’s grip tightened, seeming to pull him through the compression, and then it released.

Namjoon dragged in a deep breath, surprised to smell the rich scent of pine and dirt. He opened his eyes, looking around. The sun was still setting, casting a hazy orange glow through a multitude of rich green trees. The ground was littered with blossoms that Namjoon had never seen before, all colors and shades he could imagine. “How—”

“Magic. Welcome to my home. Stay close okay? These woods play tricks on humans. It’s not quite the forests you’re used to.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Don’t worry.” Jungkook smiled. “You’re safe with me.”

Namjoon nodded, looking around with wide eyes as Jungkook led him down a dirt path. Everything was so vibrant, he was smelling scents he’d never smelled before, the flowers were nearly calling his name. More than once Jungkook needed to tug his hand to keep him from straying toward various bursts of blossoms.

“Can you show me around? These flowers… They’re amazing.” Namjoon said softly.

“Sure. Later, okay? We don’t wanna be late. I’ll take you to all my favorite spots.”

He turned down the path and pushed back a heavy layer of leaves. Namjoon gasped. The woods seemed to open completely into an open field. Despite the setting sun in the rest of the woods, this area was as vibrant as high noon. Tables of various colors were filled with a whole assortment of individuals. There were lot of winged people, fairies like Jungkook, Namjoon assumed. Some looked human, others had ears like wolves or cats, or large antlers like deer. A few children rushed around, flowers in their hair and their skin dark from the sun. A wolf too big to be real was stretched out on the grass, lapping at its front paw.

When Jungkook pulled them into the field, a shorter, slender man with silver hair and a pair of vibrant yellow and white wings raced up to them. His wings flapped sporadically, giving him the appearance of floating on the air as he ran.

“Jungkookie!” He grabbed Jungkook and spun him in a hug. “You came! When you didn’t come home last night we were worried. Were you with…” The boy met Namjoon’s wide eyes. His own were a vibrant blue, startling and icy. “This is the human?”

“Yes. This is Namjoon.”

The boy tilted his head. “You look scared. You’re not…”

“He doesn’t have the sight… I messed up. But he’s understanding.”

The boy nodded. He stuck out his hand. “My name is Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Namjoon said. He shook his hand, still looking around.

“It’s a lot to take in, huh?”

Namjoon nodded.

“Well you’re safe here. My boyfriend is over there.” He pointed to a man dressed in bright colors from head to toe. His hair was a deep brown. “He’s human too. You two might get along. His name is Hoseok. He’s a dancer. What do you do?”

“Flowers.”

“He saved Serendipity,” Jungkook said, taking Namjoon’s hand. He looked over, startled to see that Jungkook’s wings were once again on full display.

“Ah, that was you. She’s doing amazingly now that you worked on her. Thank you. She’s mine,” Jimin said.

“Oh! My honor. Do you grow many flowers?”

“Just a few.”

“I’d love to see them sometime. I really enjoy flowers and this place – I’ve never seen these types of blossoms before.”

“Of course not, they’re from our realm. Humans don’t get to see this unless we let them.” Jimin smiled. “Enjoy yourself. Everything here is safe for humans as well as us, and there are no predators as long as you stay within the field. Don’t go into the woods without one of us or one of the wolves.”

Namjoon nodded his understanding. He watched Jimin walk – more float – off toward Hoseok.

“He’s quite kind.”

“He is. He’s my best friend. Are you hungry?” Jungkook led Namjoon around, introducing him to various individuals and giving him bites of some of the sweetest food Namjoon had ever had the pleasure of tasting. They finally settled at a table, plates filled with various treats and mugs of warm tea that tasted of honey and sweet and rich.

“Is that your wolf friend?” Namjoon asked, motioning to the large wolf he’d noticed when they first came to the field.

“No, that’s Taemin. He’s a wolf, but not my close friend. He just prefers his wolf form. My friend is Taehyung. He’s too sick to come.”

“What do you guys figure is wrong?”

“We’re wondering if it might actually be something human. He was playing in the human’s forests last shift. Sometimes when wolves or other shifters catch diseases that they can only have in animal form, they’re stuck that way until it starts to pass. It’s just been a while and... We’re worried it won’t pass this time.”

Namjoon bit his lip. “This is going to sound strange. But… My best friend is a vet tech. Do you want him to take a look at your friend?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You think he’d do it?”

“Well… He might be kinda freaked out about it being a big ass wolf but… Yeah, I mean, we could say your friend is like, I don’t know, your pet.”

“Taehyung would kill me.”

“Better than finding out werewolves exist, right?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes up, then chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. Is he… Friendly? Like you?”

“He tries to be some tough guy but he’s sweet. We’ve been friends since we were little. Can your friend move around, or would we have to bring him here?”

“Let me talk to Jimin.” Jungkook rose and hurried toward where Jimin was chatting with a group of shifters. Namjoon watched him go, unable to keep the smile from his face.

Jimin glanced over at Namjoon while the two talked, nodding at whatever Jungkook was saying. He pulled a face of concern, shaking his head. Jungkook shrugged, placing his hands on his hips. Namjoon chuckled a little.

“You like him don’t you?” Namjoon startled, looking up at the man that had addressed him. It was Jimin’s boyfriend, Hoseok.

“What?”

“Jungkook. You haven’t taken your eyes off him.”

“He’s… Yeah. I like him.”

Hoseok sat down across from Namjoon. “Dating their kind is hard, you need to know that.”

“How do you mean?”

“They talk in riddles, they’re impossible to understand sometimes. And they aren’t the best with emotions. Because they can’t lie, they aren’t used to being subtle. They say what’s on their mind. Sometimes it hurts – even if they’re well intentioned.”

Namjoon nodded. “I get that. The riddles definitely. I – He had me so confused the first time we met.”

“I bet. Jimin said you don’t have the sight?”

“Nope. Before Jungkook walked into my shop I thought fairies and wolves and all this,” he waved his hand, “was just the stuff of fairytales. Fiction.”

“There is such a world out there that we don’t know. It’s terrifying and amazing.”

“Is it… This is a strange question but, do they… Feel the same things we do?”

“Oh yeah. Love, sex, intimacy – it’s all the same. Jimin and I are regular old boyfriends most of the time, until we’re here. Then it’s like… Well, look around. Neither of us fit in. You can pick out the humans easy. It’s like there’s this dullness about us. We don’t belong.”

Namjoon looked around, noticing for the first time what Hoseok was saying. He could pick the humans out even without the animal features or wings. They were just less bright.

“Does it… I mean Jimin, he loves you still right?”

“Oh yeah. He does. I trust him wholly. It’s just something that weighs on you a bit, the longer you date one. Just be prepared for that.”

“Of course. Thank you for the advice.”

Jungkook approached, settling in his empty spot. “Scaring him off, Hobi?”

“Never. Warning him about the flirty, flighty nature of you fae boys.” Hoseok thumbed Jungkook’s nose playfully.

Jungkook laughed. “So Jimin thinks we will be okay to bring Tae to your world. It’s safer for ours if we don’t bring in more humans than necessary. No offense to your friend, but…”

“Oh, no I get it. Trust and safety. But you say world like – We’re still on Earth, right?”

“Sorta. It’s like…” Jungkook picked up a sandwich and turned it so the side was facing Namjoon. “The whole sandwich is Earth. This bottom slice is your world. What you see. Where your shop is, where we met. And then… Our world.” He pointed to the top slice. “What you’re in now. Humans can’t get through the filling, so they just assume the bottom slice is all there is. Fairies, shifters – anyone with supernatural blood like us, we can. So we see both. And we can pull humans through it, like I did with you.”

“Why can you guys get through it?”

“Well, we made it.”

Namjoon cocked an eyebrow.

“Magic. It’s all magic. And magic comes from – largely – fairies. Our ancestors, at least. Either way, we’ll pull Tae through to your shop – You have that downstairs area right? Could he stay there while your friend looks at him?”

“Sure, I have a bed down there, he can rest in it.”

“Good. Jimin and I can bring him tonight.”

“Tonight? I should call Yoongi…” Namjoon fished his cell phone out of his pocket, scowling when it didn’t turn on.

“Oh, that doesn’t work here,” Jungkook said, laughing. “Don’t worry – you can call him when you get back. You’ll have a few hours before we get Taehyung through.”

“Should I go back now?”

“Do you want to?”

Namjoon looked around for a moment. “No. But…” He moved a little closer to Jungkook. “I do want to kinda make this more of a date.”

“How do you mean?”

“I want to get to know you. Let you get to know me.”

Jungkook grinned broadly. “Sure. You have my undivided attention.”

Namjoon reached out, touching Jungkook’s hand. He hesitated for a moment before diving in, asking everything from Jungkook’s favorite color and animal to how he grew up. He listened intently to each answer, giving his own in response. Knowing Jungkook couldn’t lie was both comforting and unnerving; he felt like he couldn’t leave things out either, no matter how embarrassing. But Jungkook never teased or taunted, only listened with the same rapt attention and asked questions here and there.

The two talked for what felt like hours. Namjoon was vaguely aware of others around them, milling about, music playing, laughter and some dancing, but their attention remained on one another. Jungkook was by far the most interesting person he’d ever met. And it wasn’t the otherworldliness of him or the general magic – it was just Jungkook. Even the most mundane of stories, Namjoon loved them all. The crinkle of Jungkook’s nose, the way he barked out the most un-fairy-like laughter when he really found something funny, the way he’d shake his head, hair falling over his bright eyes.

As the party wound down, Namjoon knew he had no choice, really. During a quiet, peaceful lull in the conversation, he leaned forward, catching Jungkook’s mouth in a gentle kiss. Jungkook inhaled quickly, his lips curving up into a small smile. Namjoon felt Jungkook’s hands cup his cheeks before he deepened the kiss. Their tongues brushed together, almost timidly, and Jungkook giggled against his mouth. He pulled back, pressing their foreheads together.

“I like kissing you.”

Namjoon chuckled. He reached up, holding lightly to Jungkook’s wrists, hands still on his cheeks. “I like kissing you too.”

“We should do that more often.”

“I agree.” Namjoon leaned in, brushing their lips together once more.

“Hate to break up the party,” Jimin said, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. “You guys should head back and call his human friend. I’ll start getting Tae ready to move.”

Jungkook rose. “I’m gonna say bye to some friends real quick. Meet you in a second.” He bounced off toward a group.

Jimin smiled, his eyes narrowing. “He likes you.”

“I like him too,” Namjoon admitted. “This is all so… New. I’m still not sure what to make of it, but… I know I like him, and I want to make things work with him.”

“Jungkook is special to all of us,” Jimin said, the threat clear in his voice.

“I believe that. I won’t hurt him.”

“Don’t. The thing about fairies… We’re not all Tinkerbell and glitter dust. We can be dangerous.”

Namjoon met Jimin’s gaze, rising. “I believe that. And I expect no less. If you care as much about him as you say you do, I fully expect you to protect him with everything you have. I’d like to – someday – be able to say the same.”

Jimin’s mouth thinned, searching Namjoon’s face. “I hate that humans can lie. I never trust you.”

“You’re dating a human.”

“And it took me a long time to trust him.”

“Then you’ll grow to trust me, I hope. Perhaps helping your friend will be step one in that.”

“Hm.” Jimin nodded. “Maybe.” He tilted his head a little, smiling then. “You two are cute together. I’ll give you that.”

Namjoon grinned crookedly. “Thanks.”

Jungkook slid up to them, wrapping an arm around Namjoon’s middle. “Ready?”

“As ever.” He nodded to Jimin. “See you shortly?”

“Yes.”

They walked back into the forest, now nearly pitch black, save for the splinters of moonlight filtering through the trees. They walked in silence, fingers twined. Namjoon felt like eyes were watching from every direction – and something about the way Jungkook’s hand squeezed around his own told him maybe he wasn’t so off with that theory. But they made it to the space they’d entered from easily, and Jungkook didn’t need to warn Namjoon to hold tight this time.

The cold air of the night smacked him in the face, the stink of the city rising and erasing almost all but a whisper of the sweet woods he’d just been in. He released Jungkook’s hand and dug out his phone, dialing Yoongi.

“What?”

“Hello to you too, grump. I have a favor to ask you.” Namjoon heard a shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Whatcha need?”

“Can you bring your vet kit and get to my shop? About… An hour?” Namjoon looked to Jungkook, who nodded in agreement.

“My vet—Why?”

“Well… Remember that boy? With the weird plant?”

“Uh-huh…”

“He’s got a pet. A dog. Who is sick. But he can’t really afford vet fees if it ends up being nothing, so I figured maybe… You could take a look? See if he needs to take him to the vet clinic or if it’ll pass on its own?”

“Namjoon…” Yoongi sighed heavily. “Is it up to date on its shots?”

“Uh, hold on… Shots?” Jungkook furrowed his brow.

“I have no idea what can be passed to his kind in that form,” Jungkook admitted, shrugging.

“We aren’t sure. He… Recently got the dog.”

“Alright. Well, I’ll bring along some simple vaccines just in case. Can’t hurt. I’ll be there in a while. Bring him downstairs, hope you don’t mind dog hair on your bed.”

“Not a problem. Thank you for this, Yoongi.”

“Just doing my part to make sure you get laid. Saving innocent boy’s puppies generally helps that.”

“Asshole.”

Yoongi laughed as he hung up, and Namjoon nodded. “Okay, you can tell Jimin to bring him. I’ll leave the shop unlocked and wait upstairs for you guys.”

Jungkook shouldered his way into the shop first, holding the door open for the lumbering honey colored canine. Namjoon gasped audibly, his stomach twisting into a nauseous fear.

“Tha—That’s a big wolf.”

The wolf in question tilted his head, sitting back. He whimpered, nosing Jungkook’s side.

“This is Taehyung.”

Jimin entered, shutting the door behind them. “Where can he rest? Walking tires him out so much lately.”

“Right down these stairs. If he can’t make it… The three of us could probably carry him?” Namjoon offered, though he wasn’t very keen on the idea of carrying a giant wolf – Jungkook’s friend or not. He was far bigger than the other that Namjoon had seen at the party, but even he could tell the animal – boy – wasn’t feeling well.

“Should I grab the wolfsbane plant?”

“No, too much won’t help him any.” Jungkook followed Namjoon to the door, heading down first. He turned, walking slowly backwards to watch as Taehyung began down the stairs.

Jimin held back, looking at Namjoon. “I want to thank you for this. I know it’s probably a bit of a risk.”

“Well, worst thing that happens is Yoongi tells everyone. Nobody would believe him.”

“I suppose not. But still. We’re all worried about Tae.”

“I get it. If I were in your place I’d want to do anything I could for my best friend.”

“And who is your best friend?”

Namjoon smiled. “Yoongi. The man who – I hope – can help yours.”

Jimin nodded. He set a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and headed down the stairs. They got Taehyung settled onto the bed as best they could, and Jimin gave Jungkook a hug. “I’m going to head back. I’ll return in a while – see if there’s any change.”

“If it’s an emergency I’ll come for you,” Jungkook agreed.

Namjoon walked Jimin out before settling back behind the counter to await Yoongi’s arrival.

When he did show up, Namjoon blocked the steps. “First, a warning. It’s a big animal.”

“It’s a dog, I’ve dealt with big dogs.”

“Well… Kinda.”

“Namjoon…” The threat was clear in Yoongi’s voice, his eyes narrowing. “What did you get me into?”

“It’s a dog. As in, it’s a furry, four-legged creature of the canine variety.”

“There’s a but coming.”

“It’s… Less of a domesticus and more of a lupus.”

“A wolf?” Yoongi sputtered. “You have a fucking wolf in your flower shop?”

“He’s tame.”

“Yeah, they all are until they bite your fucking head off, what does that kid have a wolf for?”

“His cousins had him. He got him a few days ago,” Namjoon lied smoothly as Jungkook came up the stairs. He smiled sheepishly at Yoongi. “I’m Jungkook. I know it’s a lot to ask, but please. He’s family.”

Yoongi sighed heavily. “Well my shots will do no good if it’s a pure wolf. But I’ll see if I can figure out what’s wrong with him. I’m more used to working on, you know, fluffy poodles.”

Jungkook smiled sheepishly. “He’s about as aggressive as one, if that helps?”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Yoongi pushed past Namjoon, following Jungkook down the steps.

He gasped visibly when he saw Taehyung on the bed. “Holy shit, that’s a big wolf.”

“You know, everyone seems to say that,” Jungkook agreed, going over and stroking Taehyung’s soft ear.

“He’s huge.” Yoongi circled around and crouched, putting his hand up to Taehyung’s nose. “Hey, buddy. So, I’m Yoongi. I’m gonna poke and prod for a bit to see what’s got you sick. I would really, really appreciate it if you didn’t eat me, okay?”

Taehyung made a soft whuffing noise, pressing his nose against Yoongi’s palm. He chuckled and scratched his muzzle. “Atta boy. Don’t feel good, huh? We’ll see if we can get you fixed up without any of those nasty vet clinics. I know they’re scary. And they don’t like treating pups like you anyway. Maybe afraid you’ll scare their kittens.” As he spoke, he opened his bag, pulling out various instruments.

“How long has he been like this, Jungkook?”

“Few days. Since the last full moon.”

“What was he doing before he got sick?”

“Playing. Outside.”

“Fenced yard?”

“Nah, woods.”

Yoongi nodded. He lifted Taehyung’s lip and chuckled. “Oh my, what big teeth you have. All the better to eat me with, huh?”

Taehyung sneezed, and Yoongi grimaced, wiping his hand. “Gross, dude.”

He grabbed Taehyung’s back leg lightly, shifting it up. The movement earned a whine and a warning growl.

“Okay, okay… Settle down.” Yoongi stroked over his side slowly. “Give me a few with him, if you would? You could help Namjoon fetch some water, some gauze, and one of those microscopes I’ve seen him use for some of his plant things.”

Namjoon helped Jungkook with the things Yoongi had requested, watching Yoongi and Taehyung as best he could. Yoongi shouted questions across the shop every now and then about Taehyung’s diet, exercise, and other information, and Jungkook answered honestly, skirting the truth with an ease that surprised even Namjoon at times.

Finally, Yoongi rose, pulling a syringe from his bag. “I gotta get blood, and I don’t want my arm bitten off.”

“What can we do?” Namjoon asked.

“Try to distract him. I know it’s not super great of a choice but I want someone holding his head and keeping him calm. Wolves are strong but he’s sick, so… Hopefully no one gets their face ripped off.”

Jungkook chuckled. He scratched Taehyung’s ear. “He won’t bite me. He’s a big boy, can handle a little needle stick. I’ll stay by his face.”

“Okay. Joonie, I need you to help me with holding his back leg okay? I’ve done this a ton, but not on a dog this size.”

Namjoon nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”

Yoongi motioned around his back. “Kneel behind him and you’ll be holding his thigh. Hold on and I’ll show you in a second.”

Yoongi pulled out a pair of scissors. He stroked Taehyung’s side gently, soothing him as he trimmed away a bit of fur on his leg. “This is only gonna sting for a second, okay, buddy?” He spoke softly feeling around for the vein he was looking for. He grabbed Namjoon’s hands. “Grab here, hold firm and do not let him pull back.”

He patted Taehyung’s side again. “Quick stick then I promise we’ll find a nice treat for you, okay, big boy? Gonna figure out how to make you better.” He inserted the needle as he spoke, wincing when Taehyung whined.

Namjoon grunted, working to keep Taehyung’s leg still as Yoongi drew the blood. He finished, quickly pressing a piece of gauze over it. “Jungkook, wrap that up.”

He moved away, but not before offering Taehyung a scratch. “Good patient.”

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked, watching Yoongi go to the table to set up the microsocope.

“Well, if he has what I think he has, I should see it in his blood.”

“And if he does?”

“Depends. There’s about four things I think I might see. Each one varying degrees of bad or good. Give me like ten minutes of silence while I figure it out.”

Namjoon went over to Jungkook, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Do you want to go upstairs, or stay?”

“I might make noise, I should go upstairs. Come with me?”

Namjoon rose, watching Jungkook press a kiss to Taehyung’s furry head. “Be right back. Rest, buddy.”

Once upstairs, Jungkook curled against Namjoon, wrapping his arms around him. “Your friend is very kind.”

Namjoon smiled. “He really is. He and I have been close forever. What about you and Taehyung?”

“Pretty much the same. We’ve always been together, with Jimin.”

“Yoongi will find a fix.”

“I trust that.” Jungkook walked away, leaning on the window sill. He looked up at the night sky, sighing softly.

With the moonlight filtering in on his face, Jungkook looked every bit the otherworldly creature he was. His shaggy hair, still streaked with pastel, hung over his face in wild curls. His damp lips were parted, just enough to breathe a soft thread of condensation onto the window, and the pale light highlighted the glow of his rosy cheeks. Though his wings were hidden, Namjoon could almost picture them, splayed and fluttering, lifting Jungkook’s heels from the ground as he gazed off into the stars.

“Jungkook—” Namjoon whispered, his heart pounding a mile a minute. He took a few steps toward Jungkook, almost afraid to break the serene beauty of the scene in front of him.

Yoongi’s piercing shout did that for him.

Both men turned, racing for the stairs and down them. Namjoon missed a step, sliding down the final few as he gripped the guardrail. Jungkook leapt over him without difficulty.

“Taehyung!”

In Namjoon’s bed, where the wolf had previously been laying, was a tall, slender boy. He was entirely nude and shivering, his hair curly and shaggy, the same rich honey of the wolf’s fur.

Yoongi was on the floor a few feet away, his mouthing hanging open as he motioned wildly at the bed. “He—Wolf—I—”

Namjoon rose, putting both hands up. “Yoongi, take a breath.”

“No fucking way!” Yoongi scrambled to his feet, backing up. “What the hell is happening?!”

“You need to calm down. I’ll explain everything,” Namjoon said, approaching his friend slowly.

“Why are you not freaking out?!”

“Because I knew he was a human. Sort of.”

“He was a dog!”

“I was a wolf,” Taehyung stuttered. Jungkook had wrapped him in one of Namjoon’s blankets and was rubbing his shoulders quickly to warm him up.

“Wh— Joonie,” Yoongi whined, panic crossing his features.

“He’s a werewolf, Yoongi.”

“What? You’re playing some prank on me.”

“Why don’t we have a drink… You and I need to talk about some stuff, okay?”

“I—No, this—” Yoongi shook his head. He put his fists to his temples, screwing his eyes shut.

“Should we go?” Jungkook asked softly.

“No. You should stay. I might need your help, explaining. And we still don’t know what was wrong with Taehyung,” Namjoon said. “Just give me a minute.”

He went forward, grabbing Yoongi’s wrists. He brought his fists down and gave Yoongi a shake. “Look at me.”

When Yoongi opened his eyes, focusing on Namjoon, Namjoon smiled. “You aren’t going crazy. I thought the same thing. Okay? But this is real. Listen to me, Yoongi. Do you trust me?”

“You’re my best friend.”

“Do you trust me?”

Yoongi drew in a shaky breath. He nodded. Namjoon nodded as well.

“Then listen. This. Is. Real. On the bed. The wolf you were dealing with. He is still there.”

“But—”

“Shh. He is still there. He’s just a man. His name is Taehyung.”

“How?”

“He’s a werewolf.”

“Joon—”

Namjoon shook his head. “The boy I am dating. The one sitting with him. He is a fairy.”

Yoongi laughed nervously. “Not very nice.”

“Well, jokes are a good sign. Do you want to see his wings?”

“This is a joke.”

“Afraid not. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but we hoped you wouldn’t find out. We didn’t know Taehyung would shift, he’s be stuck in his wolf for a few days because he was sick. We needed a vet. You were the only one I could think of that I could trust.”

“He’s—A were… Werewolf.”

“Yes.” “Will—He won’t—” Yoongi looked over Namjoon’s shoulder at the two on the bed. “I need that drink now.”

Namjoon stepped back, hurrying to his small fridge. He withdrew a beer and opened it, passing it to Yoongi. “Want one, Jungkook?” Jungkook nodded. “Taehyung?”

“I— The medicine?” Taehyung said softly. His voice was deep and rich, with a raspy quality that Namjoon found absolutely mesmerizing.

“Right – Yoongi. What did you give him?”

“An antibiotic.”

“Can he drink?”

“Well, it’s not advised but one beer won’t hurt him.” Namjoon took two bottles, passing them to Jungkook. He took one of his own and settled in a chair near the bed. Slowly, Yoongi stepped over, sitting in the desk chair nearby. He continued to watch Taehyung, his eyes wide even as the four sipped in silence.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Taehyung finally whispered. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know I was going to shift, but when I started – I can’t stop it. I feel like I hit you – Did I hurt you?”

“No. I jumped back. You just scared me,” Yoongi said softly.

“So what did he have?” Jungkook asked.

“He still has it. But a month of antibiotics should clear it for the most part. It’s called anaplasmosis. I’d guess he got it from a tick bite while he was in the woods. It’s sort of like Lyme disease – He may have it forever, but it won’t bug him, probably. If it does, it’s pretty easy to get rid of with the medicine. I happened to have some in my bag, so I thought I’d give him a dose. It starts working pretty quick, so I didn’t bother waiting.”

“I guess once it hit his blood stream, the shift happened,” Jungkook said.

“So you’re a werewolf,” Yoongi said. “And he’s a fairy. But he’s huge.”

“Hey,” Jungkook said, pouting.

“Not all fairies are tiny,” Namjoon explained, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “He’s quite beautiful when he’s got his wings out.”

“He can fly?”

Jungkook nodded, his chin jutting out in defiance. “You bet I can. And I can curse you, so don’t be mean.”

Yoongi chuckled a little. “Cute… And you…” He looked at Taehyung. “What is it, were you bit, or? Does silver hurt?”

“Nah. I was born like this. Most of us are. The biting is a wives tale made up by humans. So is the silver thing. We do turn on the moons, but we’re not some vicious killing machines. And we can shift freely, normally. But I was stuck. I’d guess because of the bite.”

“Well, you’re okay now. I’ll have to check your blood in a few days, or if you… Get sick again or shift, or… Something.”

“Right… Is the medicine okay for me to take in this form?”

“Sure, I’ll have to change the dose – You’re smaller as a human.” Yoongi chuckled. “But you should stay here for the night, let me keep an eye on you.”

Namjoon looked over, his eyebrows raised. “Excuse me, that’s my bed.”

“You have an apartment.”

“So you want to stay here with the werewolf.”

“I’m not gonna eat him,” Taehyung complained, pouting a little.

Jungkook giggled. “No, but he might lick you.” He teased. Taehyung elbowed him.

“Well, if you do stay, we should find you some clothes. You might fit into something I have,” Namjoon offered. He rose and padded over to a bag in the corner. “They’re probably wrinkled, I keep them when I stay here instead of going back to the apartment, but…” He fished out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, bringing them to Taehyung. “That way you’re not naked in front of a stranger at least.”

“He’s not a stranger.” Taehyung grinned at Yoongi, his smile bright and boxy. “He saved me.”

Yoongi smiled sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Just… Doing my job.”

Namjoon looked between the two and rolled his eyes. “So. I’m going to go home. Jungkook? You’re welcome to stay. Or… If you want to go home with me… Not for that. I mean, unless you want to—But I’m not—”

Jungkook rose, pressing a kiss to Namjoon’s mouth to silence him. He smiled. “You talk a lot. I’ll come home with you.”

He looked back at Taehyung. “You gonna be okay here?”

Taehyung was watching Yoongi, and barely nodded. “Oh, I’m fine.”

“And you?” Namjoon judged Yoongi’s foot with his own. Yoongi nodded. He was doing his best to look anywhere but at Taehyung, but the pink in his cheeks was giving him away.

“See you two in the morning. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” Namjoon called, heading up the stairs.

When they reached the top, Jungkook giggled. “They’re going to kiss,” he said softly.

“Oh, I know it. They might do a lot more than that from the way Yoongi was looking… Once Taehyung feels better.”

Jungkook took Namjoon’s hand. “Do you want to do more than kiss me someday?”

Namjoon smiled softly, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. He nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to.”

“Hm… You should show me your apartment.”

Namjoon’s heart may have stopped for a second. It kickstarted again as soon as Jungkook’s lips brushed his own. “Come on.” He tugged him toward the door. Namjoon smiled crookedly, following helplessly. He locked up the door to The Fairy Garden, and had never been more glad he’d followed his calling. It led him to the man of his dreams, and a world he had never imagined.