#They're not very good stairs to be honest

[thetreetopinn]

My ADD Medication Journey - Jan 1, 2024

1/1/2024 – Monday

Happy new year!

Slept pretty poorly, spent a lot of the time lying awake trying to sleep

Managed to lose consciousness a few times, but not long enough to be a proper sleep

Ended up staying in bed later to compensate

Morning dose taken at about 10 am

Appetite was suppressed and forgot to eat lunch

Tremors intensified for a short while, then calmed down again

Went to the grocery store to pick up some staples I ran out of

Picked up a very late lunch, early dinner while I was out

Will continue to stick with the one dose in the morning, though I may try 2 doses again

While it still affects my sleep, it feels like I might be overcoming the insomnia

Hard to say, will continue trying as opportunities present

#ADD #ADHD #Attention Deficit Disorder #Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder #Medication #Journal #Smokey's ADD Meds Journey #The forgetting to eat thing is kind of annoying #I really need to stop doing that #Stupid thing is I know what would help stop it #Living somewhere without stairs #Yes the stairs are keeping me from getting lunch #It's dumb I know #But if my apartment was on one level #I wouldn't feel as repelled by the idea of going DOWNSTAIRS to the kitchen #They're not very good stairs to be honest #The apartment is very shit #Can't wait to move out

[paladinncleric]

Neighbors.

Pairing(s): Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: Tara and R are neighbors

Warning(s): fluff, bad writing

Words: 1k+

A/N: I couldn't find the request but here you are, this is very rushed

My eyes fluttered open as the Uber driver wakes me up. I payed and thanked him as I dragged my legs up the stairs of my apartment complex because the elevator was broken...again. I could barely comprehend my surroundings as I tried to get to my apartment. The tiredness of my 12 hour shift weighing down on me heavily.

As I finally reached my apartment, I looked for my keys. In my pockets? nope, not there. My bag? not there either. As I started to grow frustrated, I remembered I kept the extra key under the mat. But guess what? that was also not there. I felt like ramming my head through the wall but that will not help my situation.

Reminder to self: never give your extra key to your friends and then forget the original one at work. I can't even ask them to bring it as it's 2 in the fucking morning.

I cursed out loud as I kicked my door in a state of rage and tiredness that I completely forgot other people lived here too.

My last resort was to kindly ask my neighbor if I can spend the night at her place, who happens to be my very good friend and the person I've been in love with for the last year and a half. I nervously walked in front of her apartment and raised my fist to knock, my fist was left hanging in the air, when the door suddenly opened and I was faced with a pissed-off and sleepy Tara.

"I guess I was not being as quiet as I thought I was huh?" I said with a chuckle as I smiled awkwardly.

"That was you? I thought it was the Smiths down the hall going at it again." She said with a tired giggle.

"Why were you being so loud so late anyways?" She said with a chuckle as she let me in.

She stared at me expectantly for an answer with that cute little smile on her face as if she knew the effect she had on me. Probably she did, I was never really discreet with my staring. I snapped out of my thoughts as I answered her.

"I may have locked myself out of my apartment." I said with a frustrated sigh as I rubbed my head already feeling a headache coming in from the lack of sleep.

"What really? what about that key under your doormat?"

"Yea, that's the prob-how do you know about that?" I asked confused.

"Y/N/N you do know that, that's the first place someone would look for a key if they're trying to break-in? Also I saw you open the door with that once."

"I-I knew that! I just thought no one would try and break in..." My voice lowered in volume into a whisper as I continued, finally hearing how ridiculous it sounded.

Tara doubled over in laughter as she saw that I even doubted the things I said. And I stared at her fondly, loving the sound that filled the room. She wiped the lone tear from her face from the laugh and faced me with a huge grin.

"So what happened to it anyway?" She said chuckling still trying to recover from her fit of laughter.

"Mindy took it when she stayed over last time and forgot to return it."

"So what I got from this is that you don't have a place to stay?" She inquired.

"Basically, yeah"

"And as an amazing human being and an amazing friend I offer you my place for the night" She said with a grin as she gestured to her place.

I'll admit the 'friend' part stung a little but nothing I haven't dealt with before.

"Thanks so much Tar,I owe you one!" I exclaimed as I went and hugged her.

“Yeah yeah, stop acting like it’s your first time.”

She seemed to melt in my embrace, as she hugged me back tighter. I reluctantly let go as her scent was so hypnotizing.

"Let's get you in some comfy clothes" She said as she smoothed out the shirt and slacks I was wearing.

As she was walking away I 'discreetly' checked her out. She was wearing a white tee which rode up over her hips and black booty shorts which were too short to be honest. It's going to be a hard night.

----------

"Hey, you ready?" She asked as she poked her head into her room.

"Yea, I'm done." I said as I put my work clothes into the dirty clothes basket from what I was instructed earlier. I was in a black tee with grey joggers.

I turned around and saw her blatantly checking me out. I raised my eyebrows at her and she matched my expression once she caught my eye. I shook my head smiling at her goofiness and she chuckled.

"Where'd you get these clothes from anyway? They’re too big for your tiny self." I inquired.

Tara scoffed, “Bold of you to be rude to me tonight when I can easily kick you out.”

I raised my hands in mock surrender as she glared at me.

“They're Sam's, she left her clothes here the last time she stayed over."

"Makes sense."

After a moment of silence I couldn't fight my exhaustion any longer so I asked if the guest room was available.

"Well Sam is coming here in like 3 hours from her shift. So she would you kick you out if she found you sleeping there."

“Thought so.” I say bummed out as I thought of sleeping in the sofa. I started gathering my stuff and moving towards the living room when she stopped me.

After a moment of contemplating she asked, "Wait why don't you sleep in my room and I'll sleep downstairs on the sofa?"

"Nope, not happening it's your apartment I can't let you do that." I objected.

The bickering went on for a while until we both agreed to sleep on the same bed.

I mean it’s not like I haven’t slept over before, it’s just there’s always been someone from our group present.

----------

"So, which side of the bed do you prefer?" I asked.

"I prefer the right one, but you can choose tonight."

"Then I'll take the left one." I decided.

She shrugged and started to get ready for bed. After we were all tucked in, me laying on my back facing the ceiling, and her on her right side facing me. As I stared at the ceiling contemplating whether I should turn to face her too, I noticed her staring at me with a dazed expression.

"What?" I asked as I turned my head to face her.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I don't know." I raised my eyebrows at her amused.

I turned to my left side completely and stared at her while she stared at me. I noticed a small smile appearing on her lips as she looked at me with a loving expression. I lost all my train of thoughts as I looked at her looking at me.

She's so beautiful when she smiles even if it's a small one, it can light up any room, the way her eyes squints and crinkle around the corner when she smiles too wide, the cute little dimples that forms on her cheeks. The way she laughs with her whole body and has a habit of leaning on things when laughing. The automatic pout that forms on her lips when she's sad, and the smirk present on her face most of the time when talking to me, that cute sexy smirk.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asked.

"My thoughts are worth more than a penny." I grinned back at her.

"I'm sure they are." She said with a chuckle,

"Seriously, what're you thinking about?" She asked again, genuinely curious.

"You." I answered honestly.

“Me?" She asked surprised.

“Yea.”

“What about me?” She asked interested.

"How amazing you are." She raised her eyebrows at me.

“That’s awfully nice of you say.” She said with a soft smile.

I shrugged as I stared back with all the love I had for her pouring out.

Suddenly, she moved forward and hugged me tightly and buried her face in my neck. I hugged her back just as much as tightly and laid my head on top of hers. We stayed like that for a bit, then she pulled back a bit but still wrapped up in my arms.

"Y/N/N?"

She looked up and I looked down at her and answered.

"Yea?"

"I love you."

My heart fluttered and ached as I smiled slightly and answered.

"I love you too."

"Really?"

"Yea, why? are you doubting my love for you?" I said in a teasing tone as I moved some of her bangs from her eyes.

"Do you love me as just a friend?" She asked looking back and forth in my eye trying to find answers.

"Tara what are you trying to say?" I asked as I felt my heartbeat getting faster. She placed her hands on my chest on top of my heart.

“Your heart’s beating very fast.”

“I know.”

She stayed there for a moment with her hand on top of my heart, avoiding eye contact.

“Tara.”

"I'm in love with you." She blurted out.

I blinked multiple times and stared wide eyed at her. As she looked in my eyes for a bit then continued speaking.

"I have been in love with you since I first moved in here 3 years ago. You helped me with my mental health, whenever I felt anxious or scared you'd cook me your famous spaghetti and we'd watch horror movies all night even though I know you’d rather watch something else. I know it's too much to know right now but I just needed you to know, I couldn't wait any longer." She finished her confession.

I stared at her for a few seconds trying to process all this. I heard her sigh and starting to move away from me. Overcame in panic, I did the first thing I thought of and have been wanting to do for a while now.

I kissed her.

Her lips were so soft and smooth and tasted like cherry and honey as I cradled her jaw. I felt her reciprocating as I started to slowly move my lips against hers. There were no rush, we just laid there gently moving our lips against each other. She cradled my face in her hands and I rested my hands on her waist. We parted when there was a need of air. Both of us panting a bit as Tara rested her forehead against mine.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for." I said slightly panting

"Eh, I had an idea." Tara grinned as she leaned forward and gave me a firm peck.

"For the record, I love you too." I replied with a grin as the butterflies came alive in my stomach.

-----------

I groaned as I felt myself waking up. I fluttered my eyes open as I realized I'm in Tara's bedroom, all the memories from yesterday flooded my head, I smiled bashfully as I looked beside me to see the spot empty, but I could smell the pancakes in the air. I got up from the bed, stretched my muscles and scratched me back while yawning and went out of the room to see the cause of that heavenly smell.

I walked out of her room, to see her cooking pancakes in the stove with her back to me. I walked slowly towards her and leant against the counter. And loudly yelled out "So, what'cha making?" She jumped at least 3 feet from the ground.

"Y/N/N you scared the shit out of me!" Tara exclaimed as I burst out laughing, she smacked my shoulder with a spatula as she started pouting.

"Not my fault you get scared easily." I said with a shrug as I massaged the place she hit. For someone so small she sure could hit.

“Yea, I wonder why.”She glared at me as she sarcastically spoke.

I chuckled as she went back to making pancakes while I sighed dreamily as I stared at her being so domestic.

"I can feel you staring at me creep." She laughed as she turned around to give me a playful glare.

"You weren't discreet with it then, and you still aren't now.” She said with a smirk as she looked at me over her shoulders.

"Just so you know, I wasn't trying to be discreet." I replied with raised brows.

"Yea sure ok, whatever helps you sleep at night." She said with a sarcastic tone.

This bitch-

"Oh please don't be so flattered I wanted you to know." I said with a wave of my hands.

"Uh huh" She replied with a tone so obvious that she doesn't believe me.

I stared at her with a glare as she started to laugh loudly after glancing at me over her shoulders. I went behind her sneakily as I saw her put the last batch of pancakes on the plate and started tickling her. She jumped and screamed as she tried to get away from my fingers. But I trapped her in between the counter and me and started to tickle her more.

"Y/N/N STOP" She screamed out as she started struggling in my arms, I let her take a bit of an advantage as I loosened my arms a little and she moved away.

She started running towards the living room as she looked over her shoulders to see me running after her with an evil smirk and my fingers wiggling in the air in her direction. She sped up and screamed.

"Y/F/N I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T STOP THIS!"

I tackled her to the sofa and started tickling her again as I straddled her. And she started laughing uncontrollably as she tried to move my fingers away from her.

"OK STOP STOP I SURRENDER I GIVE UP I GIVE UP" She shouted and I finally stopped, both of us panting for air after all that cardio. I stared down at her as she stared up at me, still panting. I swear to God in that moment I've never seen something more gorgeous than her.

She had her hair sprawled across the sofa, bare-faced all red from laughing too much, sweating and panting as she looked up at me with this happy and content look in her eyes, it made my heart burst with joy, I felt like jumping around screaming dancing not believing that she loved me back. My stomach filled with butterflies and spread through to every inch of my body. I could feel my serotonins being released just by looking at her. She was my serotonin.

I started to lean down with the intention of kissing her, she looked up at me expectantly as she waited for me to close the gap. My hands on either side of her head as they supported my weight, when I was about an inch away from kissing her, she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"You're so very wrong if you think I'm gonna let you kiss me after the torture you put me through." She said with her lips brushing against mine then suddenly she pushed me off of her on the floor as I groaned and she got up from the sofa.

"And come quickly dumbass the pancakes are already cold because of you.” She said as she walked away swaying her hips to the kitchen, and I know she was smirking. I sighed contented as I laid there even though my butt hurt from the fall, it was worth it. God, I loved this girl so much.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream 5 #scream 6 #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x you

[hollyhomburg]

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

#bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[klausysworld]

hiii, hope you’re doing well :D

Would you be down to write a piece where Klaus is married to a human doctor or nurse and every time he comes back after a fight and is wounded, reader patches him up. And Klaus is like u know I heal. And she’s like shut up and sit. Klaus smirks and obeys as he secretly loves getting tended to by wifey.

Healing Hands

I worried for Klaus daily and nightly. Whether he was immortal or not, pain is pain.

Watching him stumble through the front door bloodied and bruised always made my heart drop. He was careless with himself, if they didn't have the white-oak stake then he didn't worry. He often reminded me that he wouldn't die even if they tore his heart out or burnt him alive.

To be honest that didn't help my fears at all.

I would always look after him after he was injured. Whether it was a couple scrapes here and there or if it was something much, much worse.

For instance, today was simply awful.

Klaus had been missing for nearly three full days when Elijah and Rebekah came in through the door, holding him up. I rushed down the stairs and helped him back up them. Once we got him onto his bed I got my bag out which was essentially a very big first aid kit with a couple extra items, like my surgical string and curved suture needles.

I looked up to find Klaus looked back at me with a small smile on his blood stained lips.

"I'm okay" he whispered raspily.

"No...you're not" I told him and he sighed softly as I opened his blood soaked shirt to expose the very slowly healing stab wounds that carved deep into his abdomen and chest.

"I just need some blood, I'll heal in seconds" he mumbled

"Then I'll put you on a blood drip" I remarked while gently running antiseptic wipes over his wounds, trying not to let his wincing bother me.

"Love-"

"Just be quiet Nik" I whispered "Just let me help"

"okay" he murmured softly, giving in rather quickly which was more and more common recently. I gave a small smile back to him before continuing to carefully stitch him up where he should need it.

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

(switch to 3rd person)

He kept still, his eyes closing as he felt her healing hands caress him better.

Klaus would never admit how much he secretly enjoyed her tending to him. It always reminded him of how much she loved him. No matter what was wrong, she was right there with bandages and wipes to help sooth his hurt.

Usually it was accompanied by a warm bath afterwards, her bare body against his while she traced the places where wounds once were. She would proceed to kiss each spot and then, at last, his lips. Then he would thank her quietly to which she would simply dismiss and once more tell him to be quiet so she could 'treat' him in another way.

By the time they're out of the water, they're probably dirtier than when they got in but neither one of them could care once they were curled up together again.

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

(Back to 1st)

I had my head on his chest, tilted back to gaze up at him. My fingertips danced patterns across his broad chest while his brushes against my scalp.

The room was dark, the curtains closed and door locked. A comfortable silence had been around us for a good while now, our love for one-another always lingered in the air and both our eyes seemed to grow tired as we looked deep into each other.

His rough yet quiet voice broke the quiet but I didn't mind.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long" he whispered and I smiled softly.

"It wasn't you fault...I'm sorry I wasn't much use in finding you" I always felt a little helpless when it came to saving people. Being a human my skills weren't ever helpful. I tried of course but I would never be as strong or intelligent as those who have lived for centuries.

"I never want you to spend restless nights looking for me. You must know by now that I will always come back to you alive, and you will always be here waiting I hope." His hand stroked the skin of my face making my lashes flutter as I nodded

"I'll always be here, I'll always look after you" I promised. I feel his forehead press to mine, the soft curls of top his head which have grown a little long tickle my face gently.

"And I you sweetheart" he smiled and so did I

"I love you Niklaus" I whispered quietly, kissing his cheek gently

"I love you more, my little nurse"

(Sorry this is so short)

#the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaleson imagine #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diares imagine #niklaus imagines #nurse!reader #soft!klaus mikaelson #tvd klaus #elijah mikaelson #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus michaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvdu fluff #tvd fluff #fluffy klaus

[thalialunacy]

[for @calaisreno's May prompt challenge, which is thusfar h*ckin fun]

(1) 2: box (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13)

Where are you? John texts, paused in the main doorway of the-- empty-- flat.

He's not worried… yet. Sherlock is a cock, yes, but he's been good with Rosie, really good. Surprisingly good. So good John's stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mostly.

Hi John, this is Molly on Sherlock's phone

'Oh, fantastic,' John mutters as he hangs up his coat.

Who's injured? he shoots back as soon as his fingers allow.

Or, oh God--

Don't tell me he's in jail.

He's not in jail.

Somehow, this is not reassuring. He dispenses with clumsy fingers and hits the Call button instead.

The sounds of A & E snap into his ear and he stills. Then he reaches right back out for his coat. 'Where?'

Molly hesitates. 'I don't think-- I mean, it's all right, I'll have them home in a jiff. It's just a small fracture--'

'Molly,' he grinds out, pounding down the stairs. 'She's my daughter, tell me where she is.'

'Oh!' she says quickly. 'No, Rosie's fine! Completely fine! He'd never let anything-- John, don't be silly-- He'd rather break his own wrist than--' She falters. 'Well. I should probably let him tell you himself, but Rosie is fine. Sherlock is fine, in fact, or very nearly. They were just having a bit of fun.'

John suddenly looks around where he's landed, at the bottom of the stairs with one hand on the front door. There is a suspicious lack of hallway furniture-- Mrs Hudson's table and vase are nowhere to be seen, her umbrella stand empty and shoved back by the door to 221C-- and there is the strange addition of a very large, slightly rumpled cardboard box.

'What the actual f--'

There's fumbling noises on the other end, then Sherlock's voice, sounding only the slightest bit defensive. 'It only took a few iterations to find that the newest boxes work the best.'

'The newest boxes,' John repeats, knowing he heard what he thinks he just heard but wanting like hell to believe otherwise.

'Worked best, yes, do keep up. It was hardly a rigorous study, circumstances being--'

'Sherlock.' John pinches the bridge of his nose, counting to ten in Very Loud Internal Numbers. 'Please don't tell me you and my very young only child were using cardboard boxes as sledges in order to toboggan down the stairs.' 

'Alright, then, I won't tell y--' 

There's more rustling, and a muffled, 'Oh for goodness' sake, Sherlock.'

'John,' Molly's back with a moment later, using her steeliest voice, which-- to be fair-- has become quite steely in the years he's known her. 'Do not leave Baker Street, please. They'll be home before you know it. And will be needing some food and a nap.'

'Which one?' John says dryly, feeling himself unclench. Rosie is fine. He trusts Molly one hundred percent on this subject. Rosie is fine. 

… he finds he keeps repeating that in his head, though, until he actually hears Sherlock's feet on the stairs an hour later.

He pushes through the kitchen door onto the landing, heedless of the half-cooked supper left behind, and doesn't breathe out until he's met Sherlock halfway up and lifted Rosie into his arms. 'Baby girl,' he mutters into her hair, holding her close. 'Are you alright?'

She wriggles with a grunt, and he reluctantly pulls back so she can answer. 'Daddy!' she starts enthusiastically, then babbles out a stream of words John only partially understands and, to be honest, partially tunes out when he clocks the delicate-looking cast peeking out from under Sherlock's cuffs.

They're stood face to face on the stairs, talkative child between them, and John feels strung up tight, balancing on some sharp edge as he searches Sherlock's expression and works out what has happened.

Sherlock has, once again, saved a Watson.

He'd also been the one to get her into the trouble, and he will get a stern lecture in a minute, but John knows in his bones, finally, that his heart is very much in the right place. And Rosie is in his arms, whole and fine and still chattering at them, her fingers playing with his collar.

'You sodding idiot,' John says finally, voice nearly uncooperative. 'You're lucky it was only a fracture.'

'We only used the bottom few stairs,' Sherlock replies, indignant. 'And I had it under control. I would never--'

Without thought, John kisses him, right on his slackened mouth. He's somehow unsurprised by how natural it feels. 'I know, I know. Trust me. You're still an idiot.'

'John?' Sherlock asks tightly, though he hasn't moved away.

'Just. Shut up.' John presses their lips together again, pressure letting Sherlock know he means it, that this isn't just a fluke. 'Let me have this.'

And Sherlock, utterly reliable in this one respect, lets him.

[❤️]

#It's gonna be MAY 2024 #Johnlock #Parentlock #Ficlet #First kiss #May prompt challenge 2024 #MayPrompts2024

[zafirosreverie]

Julieta & Bruno headcanons

for @hectic-hector we both know these two are the best!

They're 15 minutes apart

Julieta gave Alma a heart attack because she was born calm, without crying or noise.

But she was the healthiest baby. Bruno was born weaker and smaller than his sisters.

He couldn't sleep alone, he always had to be between his sisters, but over time Pepa became more independent, leaving them alone.

It never bothered Julieta, and even after getting their own rooms and gifts, she would always leave an empty spot next to her on the bed, knowing that Bruno would appear at any time of the night.

While Pepa preferred to play outside and explore, Bruno and Julieta were home children. They would play chess, cards, puzzles, or read together.

They were the ones who could pretend to be each other, which greatly bothered Pepa. They stopped when they realized that it really hurt her not to look like her siblings.

Bruno was Julieta's guinea pig while she learned to cook. He trusted his sister, and no matter how bad the food looked, he would eat it and be honest about the taste.

Because of this, Bruno actually learned to cook and is really good at it, he just prefers to leave the hard work to his sister.

But he doesn't hesitate to take over if Julieta needs to rest.

Bruno was the baby when they played. Always. Sometimes it was hard for him to know when the game ended because Julieta would treat him like a baby anyway.

He's a gentleman and he was since he was little. He would open the door for his sisters or help them cross puddles or give them the hand when they went down the stairs.

Again, with Pepa more interested in exploring and being independent, Bruno stopped doing it with her, but he always did it for Julieta, even as adults, he still retains those instincts and makes sure to be a total gentleman with her.

Pepa complains about this, saying that he was never "good" to her and that it was obvious who his favorite sister was.

Bruno simply agrees and hugs Julieta while he sticks his tongue out at Pepa.

"As if she wasn't your favorite too" (Yes, yes she is. Julieta is the favorite sister of her two siblings, but they still love each other…in their own way)

Julieta just laughs, but she hugs Bruno back while she smiles evilly at Pepa just to annoy her.

"Mamá!! Your children are evil!!" "I don't remember any of them breaking my vases as kids, tho" "I can't believe this family treats me like this, betrayal after betrayal." (Pepa's the drama queen, you can't change my mind)

Bruno was not very good at school, he was better than Pepa, but he still had a hard time understanding many things. Julieta spent afternoons patiently explaining to him what she had understood.

For that reason, Bruno got used to going to her when he had doubts, even after returning to the family.

Julieta's the secret keeper for both her siblings. In a way, she knows them better than Alma (or Félix in Pepa's case) ever will.

When Julieta felt too pressured by the expectations of her mother and the town, she hid in Bruno's room.

He never questioned it, he simply sat with her, listening to her without interrupting and offering hugs from time to time (he didn't know what else to do).

She knew that she didn't have to be perfect with him, that she could make mistakes, do stupid things, scream, jump, just be herself, without fear of being judged.

Bruno loves those moments. He got used to seeing his older sister as a perfect doll, it was nice to be able to see her being human again.

Julieta was the only person Pepa couldn't beat in a fight (the woman is strong, okay? We don't give her enough credit just because she's the calmest of the triplets), which is why Bruno hid behind her every time Pepa intimidated him.

She cooked whatever she was in the mood to make, but it was more common for her to spoil Bruno with food than her sister and mother. But she would never admit it.

When the grandchildren were born, Julieta's daughters immediately chose him as their favorite "mom's sibling".

"It wasn't enough for you to steal my sister, now you are also taking my nieces from me?!" "Pepa, your cloud!"

When his sisters started dating, instead of trying to seem intimidating, he would simply tell the suitors that if they hurt any of them, he would give them a horrible vision (he knows his gift doesn't work like that, but it was his way of protecting Pepa and Juli).

His favorite niece is Mirabel. No questions, no doubts. I'm not even going to argue this point, I'll just say that she was his favorite from the moment she was born (probably because she looked so much like Julieta and in a way he felt like he could repay her for all the love and care she had for him through Mirabel).

The night he disappeared, the only person he had time to write to was Julieta. He didn't tell her where he was going, he just asked her not to hate him and that he promised her he would be okay. He thanked her for everything she had done for him and said he was sorry for not being the best brother to her.

It was the worst pain Julieta had ever felt. It was as if she had lost one of her babies, and she refused to leave her room for weeks, clinging to that letter.

In the end, only Pepa was able to get her out of there, reminding her that she still had her, and that she needed her. The two became closer in those years because of the fear they had of losing each other too.

Julieta hated her mother and sister's unspoken rule not to talk about Bruno. She hated it with all her soul, but she knew that she couldn't do anything about it if she didn't want to make things worse for Mirabel.

She didn't say anything when Pepa went to vent to her and inevitably ended up cursing Bruno, she simply sat next to her and hugged her, even if she didn't agree with what she said.

Still, she couldn't be mad at Bruno. Hurt, sad and desperate maybe, but never really angry.

She could never hate him, she could not curse his name nor could she harbor resentment in her heart for having left her. He was still her brother and even though she didn't know where he was, she still loved him and refused to say a single bad thing about him.

Bruno not only chose the hiding place near the kitchen because of the free food, but because it is the place where Julieta spent the most time, and being with her (even if she didn't know it) calmed him down and made him feel better.

He sometimes wondered if what he did was worth it, as he listened to Julieta break down little by little.

There's no way in the world Julieta left him out of her sight for more than a few minutes when he returned. There was simply no human power that would make her turn away from him, for fear of losing him again if she looked away.

Bruno didn't care, knowing that he had years to make up for hurting her.

Curiously, rebuilding his relationship with her was more difficult than with Pepa and Alma or anyone else.

Perhaps because he had never been as close to them as he was with his older sister, and it broke his heart to realize that the reason the miracle had broken in the first place was not just because of Alma's expectations on the family, but because he himself had broken the strongest bond he had as well.

It took a few months for them to start trusting each other the same way they had. Bruno had to learn to talk to her freely again, without sounding like he was walking on eggshells around her.

And Julieta had to learn to give him space, to trust that he wouldn't leave again and take his word that she hadn't been the reason he left in the first place, that she really had done enough and more for him.

It was a slow process, but they managed to make it work and that was all that mattered to them.

And that's all for now because I could go on and on about these two and we would never leave this post. I just love them so so much!!! (and Pepa too)

#julieta madrigal #julieta my beloved #bruno madrigal #julieta madrigal preference #julieta madrigal imagine #bruno madrigal preference #bruno madrigal imagine #julieta & bruno #madrigal triplets #at least two of them #encanto preferences #encanto imagines #encanto headcanons #encanto

[tinyletterz]

♡ kiss me more— [ riddle, epel, lilia ]

: the different ways the bow tie trio kiss you :

♡— contains: gn! reader, fluff!!

— [ note: this has been in my drafts for too long i forgot about it sobbing and i don't really like epels??? it kinda seems ooc but i didn't want to leave him out D: ]

—riddle rosehearts

hand kisses: a simple yet sweet way riddle shows his affection for you. sitting or lying together, he'll take your hand and place the most delicate kiss upon it. he's like a prince from a fairytale because of his delicateness. he's probably even taken your hand, kisses it, and led you down the stairs because he was feeling so in love with you

peck kisses: he will place these kisses literally anyway. they're short kisses that hold meaning. if he sees you while off to class, he'll stop to give you a peck on your check wishing you a good day. or if you're in public, he'll offer you another one. it's a way of telling you that he's still here and that he cares about you

—epel fliemer

talking kisses: he's doing it on purpose: you're in the middle of talking and he steals a kiss from you. their short, simple, and straight to the point. he doesn't do it all the time, just in case you find it annoying, but he wants to kiss you! you may be talking about something that bothered you so he kiss you — not to shut you up but to let you know he's here to help.

nose kisses: a very sweet and literally screams "you're cute!" he's rather embarrassed to be so close to your face, but it doesn't stop him from rubbing his nose delicately with yours. when you both have just woken up, still cozy in bed, he touches his nose with yours.

—lilia vanrouge

forehead kisses: no matter if you're shorter or taller than him, he's going to give you forehead kisses. he holds your face in his hands gently as he places a kiss, whispering sweet words to fill your heart. you could be sitting down and he'd walk over to give you a kiss. to be honest lilia would pinch your cheeks and then kiss you because he finds it hilarious.

spiderman kisses: he has a habit of surprising you with his ability to appear out of thin air. this kiss is definitely playful and he will hang upside down until you give him a kiss. sometimes he won't even be hanging on a tree and will just pop in front of you with a cheeky grin on his face.

#♡—[remus!!] #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader

[dollypopup]

i don't talk nearly enough about how great Colin is

-excellent fencer, clearly dedicated to it. great taste in puffy shirts 10/10

-brave af!!!! idk about you, but the very idea of being out at sea for several months pretty much w/ no one who knows me scares the soul out of me. bruh is out here on a ship headed to a completely unfamiliar place w/ not one shred of fear

-he's such a good brother? the way he supported Benny was so sweet? and all his little quips with Eloise? they are the sarcastic siblings for SURE. boxing with Greg? playing hoops w/ Hyacinthe? his 'I'm clearly Daphne's favorite'? i adore him

-calling Anthony an ass in defense of Marina was ICONIC

-let's be honest, he was a real one w/ Marina all around. boi was out here defending her left right and center. and that scene where they go 'That's a. . .rather long engagement. . .' 'Or simply romantic! :D ' was adorable. then his 'Why does anyone, marry, Brother? For love.' line? so earnest! heart in his hands!!! and even after it all went kaboom he didn't say a bad word about her. told her he would still have married her if she just told him and he meant it. said that with his whole chest, too. got a reality check from her when he visited and then when asked STILL said 'we could have done more for her' KING 👏 SHIT. may we all have an ex that respects us this much

-canonically the best dancer out of the Bridgerbunch

-loves his mum with all his heart and soul. that scene where he's walking her up the stairs and they're joking around is so wholesome. that scene where Violet is looking for someone to escort her and A and B all flee the scene but Colin steps up? our boy is so sweet

-his scene w/ Jack where he's all puffed up and imposing and tall af going 'how dare you take advantage of them??? fix this shit, NOW' and then turning around and bashfully going 'i rehearsed that speech for hours' when he and Pen could talk privately again WAS ADORABLE, don't even TRY to deny it

-multitalented! our boy can do it all: he sings! he dances! he writes! he drinks his respect women juice on the daily! he fences! he's fluent in sarcasm! he rides horseback! he has anxiety! he's a flirt! he can't stop snacking! are you not entertained?

-also his scene w/ Will where he's like 'no, i fucked up, i insulted you and i messed with your business. i'm sorry and i'm making it right' was sexy as hell. he didn't have to, he could have totally just let it slide under the rug, but he took accountability and made amends

-speaking of sexy: our little rule breaker! holds Penelope's hands in front of everybodyyyy! no glove no love, who? writes her (love) letters while he travels! doesn't give a fuck about propriety! does drugs! I LOVE HIM

-so much integrity. when he messes up he takes full responsibility for it. he's nice as hell to Phillip, encourages his interests, nerds out with him. Stuck his whole neck out for Pen the Featheringtons. 'Do you think I would care that she loved someone else before? That would make me a hypocrite' apologizing to Pen before leaving for his tour. telling her she inspires him. is always there to escort his mum. everything good.

-lost and aimless, my beloved. he's just a dweeb putting on a front and it's so wonderfully relatable

-i love his hero complex. yeah, i said it!!! Dancing with Pen after Cressida spills the drink? HOT. Getting Marina away from the old dude clearly making her uncomfortable? HOT. Standing up to Jack? HOT. Getting Kate and Anthony to trudge along after that Pal Mall game? HOT. Daphne coming to him in the middle of the night demanding to know about the duel and him getting on a horse and heading out with her? HOT.

-he's sarcastic as hell. 'She likes me MUCH better than you, Benedict' 'Maybe he's still at the altar waiting for Miss Edwina' 'Of course not, you are *clearly* sober', Anthony: 'I wish to apologize' 'Are there locusts in the streets??? Blood in the Thames? Is the end of days upon us already?????' 'our host looks a bit fussy. do you think if he goes to bed we all have to leave?' and, of course 'Have you ever visited a farm?'

-he's just a lil shit w/ a heart of gold, how can you not love him?

#colin bridgerton #polin #bridgerton #marina thompson #penelope featherington #he's my favorite and i have no regrets #what a darling

[nephriteknight]

FCG is having a -- well, he wouldn't say a bad time, that wouldn't be right. They've made new friends and helped people and perhaps most of all, they've met someone like them. But they aren't like him, not really; they are elegant and humanlike and confident, and FCG is still just FCG. They are clunky and strange and silly, all round curves and wides lenses. It's a constant reminder that he was made to deceive and to kill. FRIDA was made to protect.

FCG is having an... interesting time, and FRIDA walks up the stairs to meet the king and queen with no trouble at all. The steps are shallow enough that he can roll up them without assistance, but they still find themself falling behind the others with Deanna, pushing as hard as they can, ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk.

FCG is having an interesting time, as they walk towards the man who might fix him. Perhaps if they had legs they might command the same respect that FRIDA does, perhaps if their face was as beautiful as theirs FRIDA might -- no, that's ridiculous. But still, they can certainly be more useful to their friends with help from this Jaquoby, so he walks with FRIDA and makes small talk and tries not to let on how desperately he... what? Wants them, wants to be them, just wants.

FCG is having a Very Interesting Time, and FRIDA is asking him about himself, and he wants to give the right answers but all he's ever known how to be is honest, and now FRIDA thinks they have a special someone and oh no, that's not right -- but now they're talking about Dancer and he still feels so terrible from the fight with the big buggy thing, taking on so much pain for his friends, it was worth it, it was so worth it, but he shouldn't be thinking about Dancer right now, it's not safe, gods above his mind feels like torture -- and FRIDA already knows about how they're a ticking time bomb, how they killed everyone they cared about once and tried to do it a second time, and they're expecting worry and mistrust from their new friend so it doesn't hurt quite so bad as it could, and it's only after he processes that that he processes the other thing.

FCG is having a very nice time all of a sudden. What a lovely thought, to be FRIDA's special someone! Goodness, wouldn't that be great? Just to be their friend is more than he could ask for --

FCG is having a very, very nice time, and sure, they're worrying about whether their trap-door hinge-jaw isn't as nice to kiss as Deanna's would be, as they're now learning FRIDA's is, but FRIDA's face is better at emoting than his own and when they part they look so happy --

FCG thinks they're having a wonderful time.

#fcg #frida #critical role #critical role spoilers #THEY KISSED TT #i wrote this at 3 am dont judge if its bad #neph's short fics

[issie-https]

A-Z Headcanons

Axl Rose X Reader Headcanons

A/n: Heyyyy! First HC had to be the A-Z one(duh). Hope you enjoy xoxo

Word count: 1069(lol)

Warnings: SMUT, swearing😋

Masterlist

༺✩༻

A - Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

To be honest, he's not an angel when it comes to aftercare but he's not against it. You wanna cuddle? Sure! Wanna shower or have a bath? Fine. But he's not gonna go over the top with it if we're being real.

B - Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner's)

Axl's favourite part of himself is his hair or his hips. Have you seen that man shake it like Shakira?! Like, wow! And for his hair, my little strawberry blonde princess adores his hair.

His favourite part of you is your legs. Idk why but I feel like that man would love to see you walk around in short dresses and heels just to see your legs. He also probs loves being in between them😋

C - Cum (anything to do with cum)

DIRTAY MAN! Will cum anywhere on your body and say sum like, "you look like a fucking work of art". Look, cum is a sign of a good orgasm and he likes to make you (and himself) feel GOOOOOD.

D - Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

That man has thought about fucking you in every position possible, on every piece of furniture at all times. He wants it all. Missionary on the floor, doggy on the bed, oral on the counter, 69 on the couch. Whatever you can do, he fucking WILL.

E - Experience (how experienced are they)

Very. Nothing more, just very. Sex machine if you will.

F - Favorite Position (self explanatory)

Doggy. Cannot convince me otherwise. He loves pounding into you from behind, slapping ass all day and watching yours and his cum drip down your thighs.

G - Goofy (are they more silly or serious in the moment)

He takes sex very seriously but if youse are both drunk, giggles will be let out at the sloppiness and the fact that on the way to the bedroom, you almost killed each other falling down the stairs.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they)

He trims but doesn't remove. He defo has a slight 80's bush going on but he keeps it clean. No bad smells here. And yes, carpet matches the drapes, maybe a tad darker.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Everyday sex isn't the most romantic thing ever but if it's a special occasion or you want it to be, he can be the most romantic love maker E.V.E.R.!!!

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

I can see him being into you watching him wank or vise versa but he won't do it unironically. Possibly into phone sex...🫣

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Exhibitionism, slapping, dirty talk, voyeurism, etc. . He likes to show people how good he makes you feel whether it be one of the guys or public sex, he adores it.

L - Location (favorite place to do the do)

As stated above, public, against windows, on worktops, backstage. Wherever he can dick you down, he will.

M - Motivation (what gets them going)

You in general. That man sees you as sex on legs. You wear a certain outfit, boner. You look at him a certain way, boner. You breathe, boner. He worships you in a way.

N - NO (something they won't do, turn offs)

Piss play. Whether it be one of you pissing in or on the other or something like that, he won't do it. He won't judge you but he won't want to do it.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills)

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE. This man goes f e r a l if he is nose deep in your pussy or if he's balls-deep in your throat. Absolute god with his tongue, like H E L L O?!?!

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual)

Speedy gonzales. Rough in a caring way, if that makes sense. He loves to ravage you. However, if it's baby making sex(because we all know this man was made to be a daddy), sweet and sensual Axl comes out and is caring and slow for Jesus.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex)

50/50. If it's before a show, it gets his adrenaline going and he calls you his lucky charm. But if he doesn't have to, he won't.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment)

Yeah, I'd say so. But nothing too dangerous like carving names into each other.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for)

I'd say he has pretty high stamina but nothing unmanageable. He can go for 2-4 rounds before he calls it quits for the night(or until nighttime🫣).

T - Toy (do they own toys? Do they use them?)

Hear me out, butt plugs for you, vibrators, handcuffs(probably fluffy leopard ones💀), blindfolds and ropes. He doesn't use them every time but like once or twice a month, he treats himself to a play date😉.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tease of the century award goes to...

Axl Rose!

You laugh a little too hard with Duff and he edges you like a madman. He loves leaving you until your legs are shaking, tears have ruined your make up and your just babbling for him to let you cum.

V - Volume (how loud are they)

I WANNA HEAR YOU SCREAM. We've all heard him sing, he is louddddd! Loves to make you scream. He moans, grunts, etc etc until he's lost his voice. Loves making you do the same thing.

W - Wild Card (get a random headcanon)

This man loves to make you squirt. Like, this man lives for it. The harder the orgasm, the more you squirt, the harder he gets.

X - X-Ray (let's see what's going on in those pants)

Not massive, let's be honest. But he's also not tiny. I'm saying 5-7 inches, slight curve to the right. But he knows how to use it, ya know.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Forny hucker. Fuck, horny fucker. This man is hard almost all the time. He's constantly begging for you to suck him or fuck him and if not, he's wanking to your nudes he keeps on Polaroids.

Z - ZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

You defo fall asleep first but like 20 minutes after you, he's snoring louder than he sings.

#guns n roses #axl gnr #axl rose imagine #slash gnr #duff gnr #gnr #izzy gnr #izzy stradlin imagine #steven gnr #duff mckagan imagine #izzy stradlin #steven adler imagine

[bredforloyalty]

Hii would you like to share your favourite fics?? In any fandoms tbh i just trust your taste a lot 🫣

oh i am an animal i don't think i have good taste i have the taste of someone who's always horny and a teeeeny tiny bit fucked in the head jcsgbhy but i'm honored you asked and i'll share<33 you said you don't care if it's more smut or more plot so i didn't worry too much about that 👍

first off, a warning: most of these are explicit, involve incest, rape, child sexual abuse, and more!!! also most of them are on the shorter side + all are male slash! you'll be able to tell based on the pairing and the concept (i'll describe them a little) so just go by common sense and, idk. beware ahaha i'll go from some pairings to assorted and then the rick and morty ones will be under the read more (i feel like i can't leave them out because some of them genuinely made me insane and changed me as a person or allowed me catharsis like very very few fics before and even though it's repulsive to most others i can't deny that. there are big favorites in there. favorites of all time if i'm being fully honest). let's go..

gcest:

ghost dancer - by the lovely and talented rye @ supersonic1994!!!! noel overdoses on coke. i looove the image of kissing your brother when you think you're about to lose him forever,, does that make sense? love is love is love when one is desperate and if it's deep then it can transcend taboos and boundaries of self and all that shit. you know

things we never see - told through jill furmanovsky, their photographer, noel comes back (after they had almost broken up and he went to san fran without telling anyone). when it comes to them i do love an outsider pov. speaking of outsider pov,

you never notice you are blind - five times alan mcgee thinks he catches something between them and one time he definitely does. it is what it is

i don't really want to know - Nawt consensual, made me a bit sad hehe liam is not sick like him

some that are like, unhealthy jealousy possessiveness dubcon angst and so on: sins like scarlet, fishhook, what am i gonna dream now

samdean:

hungry til well fed - by the wonderful bug @ deanjohn (and mandymovie)!!! iconic cannibalism fic, just so them

brighter wound - wound blood pain codependency babeyyy

take the things you love - hathfrozen is iconic also.. i loved the heaven fic (you'll find it. if you want) but i want to share this because i like how conflicted sam is about their relationship and about the way dean treats him. smutty though

manhattan for beads - what i wrote down is this is the one where they try and it doesn't work and it's heartbreaking. so yeah candle_beck can be trusted w spn, iconic too

serpent round your heart - one of the first ones i read haha ^^

deanjohn:

where the evening splits in half - bug fic also!! all of bug's fics are great do check them out if you're interested in this pairing or dadson at all, seriously.. "Sam says, "I know how you felt about the man." No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know that Dad was a pig. He has no idea how far down Dean was in the mud with him. How dirty they both were, how much Dad ruined him."

midnight midnight - first time, dean hooks up with men so john can take blackmail pics and he gets jealous and yeah, hooray

and you learn how to settle for what you get - sex again but they're fucked up so it's always fucked up. dean never asked for it

waltjesse:

like i'm underwater - by the amazing @ kuleaxoxo!! yayyy power imbalance!! "Mister White's showing him off, isn't he?"

monaco - jesse gifts walt the watch. dubcon

i'm asking you to - rape roleplay, ignored safeword

others:

countercontrol - terence fletcher/andrew neiman, "Andrew leaves; but he always comes back. He likes to think that it’s of his own accord. But then he thinks of those paintings of staircases with the optical illusion of the stairs going nowhere except winding into each other, going the same place again and again, and ultimately going nowhere."

beach fag - roman roy/jeryd mencken, "Roman wishes he was a kid with an adult boyfriend."

the serpent under it - aaron stampler/martin vail, look i fucking love primal fear this is post-canon they get together etc. important to me

simple pleasures - edward nygma/bruce wayne, this is a big favorite i can't leave it out because when this was um coming out i was fucking obsessed. it's long i don't even read long fics

there's a head in the refrigerator - michael afton/william afton, this one's sort of self-explanatory..... i felt we needed necrophilia representation here

rick and morty:

bitter and begging - FAVE.. after the jealousy and possessiveness in vindicators 3 (the episode with the avengers copies that morty is enamoured with. who rick slaughters when he's off his shit and then covertly confesses how much he loves morty basically). this one really got me i think i cried because it's all so sad but um. full of love

that's my boy - this is the first of a series, i like that it's the start of.. the sexual abuse and they're still uncertain like i enjoy the in-betweens and when lines are crossed

love is a solitary thing - this one i love so much, it's about morty's fantasies and unrequited feelings for rick

safe - gen, morty starts talking with another morty whose rick rescues mortys from abusive ricks. i always really liked how the multiverse is like a prism? you can explore the different facets of their relationship and the possibilities and the extremes through it, you can have your characters meet their worst and their best versions, i just think selves from different dimensions are a great tool. in storytelling. and eliciting emotions. anyway rovingotter is fucking solid here

hands - a favorite.. the atmosphere... "He wonders if he'll still be sitting here in ten years, handing Rick his screwdrivers, feeling that hot instinctive rush of pleasure at knowing what Rick is going to ask from him before he even asks: bred for it."

the shape you made me - morty's stream of consciousness. i usually don't give stuff like this a chance but when i tell you that this affected me. because fuck it did affect me

the damage has been done - um..... internal cardiac massage fic 🥴

repurposed - "Is it ethical to leave the horrors of the universe at a boy's fingertips?"

and last but NOT least there's this series that i haven't read in full, just a little bit broken, that fucking killed me. tbh! i sobbed at some parts legitimately. maybe that's just on me i don't know maybe it isn't. the first 5 are crazy. admittedly alcoholism runs in my family too (lol!) and their relationship is so tragic.... this fic is about when rick quite literally stole the kid's dreams, concocted an entire plan to erode morty's love of heists and make him stop writing his heist movie script (and having any aspirations or plans outside of rick). when i watched that episode these are exactly the emotions i wanted more of.. it's madness......

#thanks for the ask 💞 sorry it took me ages haha #i haven't reread some of these in a while (or at all..) so if i find out they're bad i'll apologize later HXDGCY #ask

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 33

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,712

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: SILENT TREATMENT

"You could at least try to be civil, you know."

Rolling his eyes is the only attention Bucky spares Sam, not that it helps his own case any. His lack of response and attempt at still pushing past the other man actually has the opposite effect, only adding fuel to the latter's annoyance which has been building ever since Madripoor.

Sam forces Bucky to stop against his outreached hand, "Are you really that upset over the whole Hollie thing to be acting like this?"

It's no surprise that he eventually found out about your 'little' argument back in Madripoor; it was pretty damn easy to put the pieces together after your sudden disinterest in confronting Nagel and Bucky's beyond sour mood. Clearly, he said something to piss you off during Sharon's party - likely even hurt you judging on the redness of your eyes Sam spotted this morning.

Bucky's shameless avoidance of you has already been picking at his nerves, although he can no longer stand turning a blind-eye to it. It's unwarranted, out of character, and above all childish - at least that's what he feels like saying right now, but he realizes anger won't solve anything, especially if coming from his mouth.

Maybe if Steve were here, expressing disappointment would cut deep enough to reach common sense, however Sam isn't Steve. He lacks any meaningful, nostalgic history to fall back on with Bucky or you, therefore any accusations on his part are more than likely to just be met with defensive responses. Instead, he needs to try the friendly approach.

Inhaling away his exasperation, he looks to Bucky with genuine concern, "...Alright,look: I don't understand what it's like to be in your guys' situation and I'm not going to pretend that I do, but obviously this game of giving the silent treatment is hurting both of you - you're hurting them...You can see that, right?"

Bucky dodges Sam's stare, hating the reminder his words serve as. Of course he knows your previous argument hurt you! He isn't stupid! ...Okay, maybe just a bit, but it's not like he meant to make you feel shitty back there! He just didn't want you in harm's way - not over something like the super soldier serum and not while in Madripoor.

Yes, there were better ways he could've asked you to stay behind. He fumbled the bag, and he wishes he could apologize for it - to clear things up so that you can, at the very least, be spared from taking any blame regarding this entire hole he's now dug under you both - however what's he exactly supposed to say? Is there even a nice way to cushion what he's truly thinking inside? What good would an apology be if it's promptly followed by telling the receiver he still doesn't want to be around them anymore?

"I know it's going to sound cliché and probably like some bullshit your counselor has already tried throwing at you, but I think if you could just sit down and talk to each other about how your feeling - be honest and get everything off your chest - it might -"

"- This doesn't involve you," Despite Sam's careful efforts, his interference only adds fuel to Bucky's internal fire exactly as he had tried to avoid. The super soldier easily shoves past his hand and stubbornly ascends the stairs, "The Dora Milaje want Zemo. I managed to buy us some time, but they're not going to wait forever."

"You're changing the subject -"

"- To something that matters. The fate of the world is at hand, Sam. Don't you think you should be more concerned with that than with me?" Bucky responds condescendingly, not allowing for any more objections before they're inside the safe house.

Not much has apparently happened in their absences. It didn't take Zemo long to get comfortable, having treated himself to a nice shower in the time that it took for Bucky and Sam to make their entrance. While the former goes to plop down on the couch alone, the latter joins you in the kitchen where, having been left unsupervised, you've taken the liberty of raiding each cupboard in search of the most expensive alcohol present.

"Wanna glass? Mendis Coconut Brandy~ Made from the nectar of a borassus flower then matured for ten years in wood casks," You make a show out of pouring yourself a generous amount, however your 'tempting' offer goes denied by Sam who takes a seat at the bar counter with a lack of amusement written all over his face.

"We need to figure out another plan of action. Not just sit here lounging around while getting drunk."

"This is how I get my neurons firing," You assert before shamelessly taking a long swig of your loot.

Aware of how difficult it would be to take alcohol away from a Stark, Sam elects to ignore your behavior in favor of getting on with business anyway, "Nagel was our best lead before someone killed him."

"Must we litigate what may or may not have happened?"

"It's not up for debate. You straight shot the man!"

"Might want to come up with that plan faster," You interrupt. With your brandy glass balanced in one hand and your phone in the other, you scroll through the latest relevant newsfeed, "Our little superhuman buddies just bombed a GRC supply depot."

"What?" Sam whips his attention back to you immediately, then asks more solemnly, "...What's the damage?"

"Three dead. Eleven injured; doesn't list conditions, but judging on these pictures, I wouldn't be too optimistic...They made some demands, plus a promise for more attacks if they aren't met."

"She's getting worse," Zemo points out rather nonchalantly while sauntering over, "Now I, for one, am still willing to see our efforts through. Are you?"

"She's just a kid..." Sam sighs with a shake of his head, yet this information falls short of presenting a proper argument.

"You're looking for something in her that isn't there and you're allowing it cloud your judgment. Karli Morgenthau is a supremacist," Zemo's quick to chastise, "You see, the very concept of a super soldier will always lead to trouble. It's that warped aspiration towards one's goals that led to the Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers -"

"- Hey, you're talking about our friends."

"The Avengers, not the Nazis."

You roll your eyes after Bucky's needless correction. At least he's finally found the balls to leave his social isolation long enough to partake in the discussion at hand, however he still does so while maintaining his physical distance, collapsed on the couch with a deadpan expression that lacks any meaningful engagement.

"Yeah, Karli might be radicalized, but that doesn't mean there can't be a peaceful way to stop her," Sam counters, although Zemo once again lets these words roll off his shoulders, remaining stubborn to his own stance.

"The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will stop at nothing and, worse yet, she'll continue to escalate until you eventually kill her...Assuming, of course, that she doesn't kill you first, God forbid."

"Yourview of things is too black and white," This rebuttal is made to sound as if you're pointing out the blatantly obvious which is enforced by your lack of eye contact as you swirl your alcohol in a jaded fashion, "It's like I said on the flight to Madripoor: corruption is always a risk where power makes someone feel that they're invincible to typical consequences which is why you have to be careful who you grant that power to. Steve was chosen to become the original super soldier. Those abilities - They didn't change his heart. He wanted to protect innocent people from a war spiraling out of control and he did just that while staying true to his nature."

"In other words, the serum never corrupted Steve," Bucky concludes proudly, almost amused to see how Zemo's unknowingly poked the hornet's nest through his accusations.

Fortunately for him, you're being civil right now, all things considered. Bucky hasn't forgotten your true temper and the passion you hold towards your work. One wrong step on Zemo's part - one ill-worded insult regarding Project Rebirth or the achievements it set out to make - and there's no doubt in his mind that you'll have your hands on that Sokovian bastard faster than Sam can stop you. Is it bad that he wants to see that happen? At least watching Zemo get his well-earned broken nose might make him feel a little better after such a bitter past few days.

"Touché," Zemo admits, before selecting a cookie from the bowl in front of him and looking back to you with his next opposition, "But there has never quite been another Steve Rogers, has there?"

"Not with that attitude, there won't be," You scoff, finishing your brandy then giving him a pointed glare, "What I'm trying to get at is: to assume corruption will always be the case with superhumans will only ever shoot down the possibility of there being a variation. Karli might not listen to reason, or maybe she will - we can't be sure until we try - but treating her like a lost cause from the gates will only promise her to become the very enemy you're concerned with."

"Perhaps you have a point, however what happens if she already is a lost cause, hmm? Are you willing to take that chance in the time that it takes for you to confirm her intentions - even at the possible risk of your own life and those of the innocent?"

You cross your arms with your weight leaning to one side, "For one, I'm not saying that we just rush in to make friendship bracelets with them. We can attempt a conversation while still being cautious. Second, aren't you the guy who got a bunch of innocent people killed just so that he could get back at the Avengers? Are you really going to stand here acting like you live on some moral high ground?"

"Maybe we should just give him to the Wakandans now," Bucky suggests, suddenly acting exhausted with his spectator role in all of this. This leads you to redirect your glare his way, addressing him directly for the first time since Sharon's party.

"Excellent idea. Why don't you escort him there and stay awhile? Wakanda is where you were happiest, after all."

Bucky doesn't risk eye contact for long, swiftly looking away to avoid the sting felt by your response and that mocked smile you wear which drips sarcasm. This would be an amazing opportunity for him to be less of a jerk and deny your accusation. All he has to say is that he didn't actually like Wakanda that much, he doesn't even have to add that he didn't like it because it kept you two apart...yet he keeps his mouth shut instead of saying a single word. 

Sam, tired of all this clashing, promptly rounds the conversation back to more pressing matters, "Alright, let's just assume we have a consensus here and agree to talking with Karli. It sounds like Donya Madani was a pillar of the community here, right? ...You know, when I was a kid, my TT passed away -"

"- Your TT?"

"...Yeah, my TT."

"You're 'TT'?"

"His aunt," You sigh at the back-and-forth.

"Thank you! When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire community got together for this ceremony to celebrate her life - I swear, it lasted like a full week. Maybe they're doing something similar for Donya."

"We can use it as an opportunity to get more information on the Flag Smashers. Maybe even get an audience with Karli herself," You finish his trail of thought, "She likely wouldn't want to make a scene in front of anyone connected to her, so it might be our best shot at a civil conversation without her trying to bash in our skulls."

"Exactly!" Sam smiles, looking back to Bucky who shrugs in response.

"...It's worth a shot."

"Your TT would be proud of you," Zemo, having used your distraction to sort through the cupboards, turns to Sam and tosses a wrapped candy his way before dumping the rest of the container on the counter in front of you, "Turkish Delights. Irresistible." 

Perhaps you've simply become biased after spending so many years in Europe, but you really must say, you admire the grand beauty behind European architecture even when worn down after many years of resident traffic. The buildings here in Latvia are no different in their ability to catch your eye, being much more deserving of your attention than the flashy neon lights that lined Madripoor.

Sadly, it seems your appreciation isn't universal. While you remain silent in your observations, Zemo is quick to voice his annoyance the moment your quartet steps foot in the courtyard of the refugee enclave, "Shame what's become of this place. When I was young, my family would come here for fabulous dinner parties. Although I knew nothing of politics back then, I recall it being beautiful. Now it is this..."

"I'm gonna take a look upstairs. See what you can find out down here - and keep an eye on him," Sam excuses himself almost immediately, not waiting for a reply before he's gone from sight. It's possible that he just wants a break from dealing with Zemo's nonsense, although he could also be trying to escape the tension between Bucky and you, too.

The first thing Sam did this morning was try questioning you on what happened at Sharon's party to which you simply replied that he should be asking Bucky instead. You weren't - and still aren't - in the mood to recap anyone else on your argument. You received basically zero sleep last night thinking about it, Bucky's words constantly playing on repeat in your mind:

"I think you should stay here while we go talk to Nagel ourselves."

"It wasn't a suggestion."

"...You're a liability if you go..."

Who does he think he is?! He's been making it perfectly clear since your confession that he wants absolutely nothing to do with you, but now he wants to play nanny - to act like he's oh-so concerned about your wellbeing? Pick a side, damnit! He either cares for you or he doesn't!

Just thinking about it gets you all riled up again, especially since you have yet to receive any kind of apology even after Sam confronted him, too - You know Sam must have because why else would he have waited outside for Bucky after reaching the safe house? Your theory could further be supported by their sulking that followed. Sam finally said something to Bucky himself, however even that had no success in making him grow the fuck up.

It seems your plan of giving Bucky space to process his feelings isn't working. Despite trying to keep your head low, you still manage to cause him grief while he insists on treating you like an asshole by playing this stupid back-and-forth game of 'do I, don't I'...Well, he's an adult, isn't he? You suppose he can make his own decisions on how to behave, but that doesn't mean you have to keep putting up with it yourself. Two can play at this game and you're done taking the nice route.

"I'll stay out of your way," Zemo promises, holding his hands up and taking a few steps away from you both. Whether he senses the tension as well or is simply being smart, you don't care.

You only bother to spare Bucky a glance - which is more of a less-than-amused glare that he mirrors - then turn your focus to the courtyard. There's lots of people going about their days here, none who show any of you much attention. If anything, it seems like they're trying to ignore your group between cautious glimpses; behavior that Bucky apparently fails to read as he walks right up to an older trio doing laundry. He attempts to awkwardly ask about Donya, yet as anyone could've predicted, they wordlessly turn their backs to him before gathering their belongings and walking off.

"Maybe if you actually smiled, you'd look more approachable," You make a point of noting smugly, all too satisfied to earn a frustrated grumble.

"Let's see you try then since you're such a people-person."

"I'm not a people-person. I just know how to work people," You hit back before eyeing the rest of the courtyard. There's more adults busying themselves with different projects, but chances are they're aware of the dangers outsiders might bring to their beliefs here, so it'll be harder to pry information out of them. Kids, however, have much smaller filters, and it just so happens that there's a young pair sitting alone at a fold-up table nearby. Perfect.

"Hey. May I see what you guys are drawing?" You ask kindly, inviting yourself to slowly take an open seat at the table with them. The little boy hesitates and looks to his sister who is equally wary of your presence, but he ultimately pushes his drawing towards you anyway. You gasp, gently turning it to get a good look, "Oh, this is beautiful! ...You drew this? ...You did? No way!"

The boy nods, his sheepish smile turning into a quiet giggle after your mocked disbelief.

"This is incredibly well detailed! It's a dog, right? ...Wow...You're waaay better at drawing than I am. I couldn't draw a dog to save my life. Whenever I try to, my nephew says it ends up looking more like a cow instead."

"Now that's someone who knows what they're doing," Zemo whispers to Bucky as they observe your efforts from afar. He isn't wrong. It doesn't take you many more compliments before the siblings are eagerly showing off each of their art pieces, even taking you up on your request for them to show you how to draw yourself.

To anyone else, it may seem like you're simply playing the long game, but Bucky can tell when your smile is genuine and when it isn't. Right now, it's definitely genuine. Just listen to the way you laugh at the siblings' jokes, and watch how your eyes sparkle in delight when triggered by their childish excitement. He imagines that this is what you were like when Tony was little...and what you would've been like had you had any children of your own. Maybe it isn't too late for you in that regard, yet that's quite the bittersweet pill to swallow.

Bucky finds himself inching closer to the table, his steps awkward and slow as if his feet are stuck in a giant glue trap. His presence immediately makes the siblings fall silent as they keep a fearful eye on him, however you're quick to reassure them with a careless shrug of your shoulders, "Oh, don't worry. That's just my friend, Bucky. I know he looks real scary, but he's harmless...Do you see his cool arm?"

"No?"

"Well, he'll have to come over here and show it to you then," You wave him over, smirking at his reluctance.

"I don't -!"

Not accepting that answer, you stand and take his wrist in hand before leading him the extra few steps over to the table. There, you pull him down to kneel between you and the curious children who watch in awe after you slide his glove off to reveal the bright shine underneath.

"- Isn't that awesome? I mean, how many people do you know who have a metal arm like this, huh?"

Bucky keeps as steady as humanly possible, practically suffocating himself out of concern that one wrong move on his part will send these children off screaming. Pressing his lips together nervously, he watches like a hawk as they gather closer and brush their little fingers against the cold metal of his forearm with bouts of excited giggles. You, meanwhile, keep his hand in yours while eventually locking eyes, your smirk remaining as if to say 'this isn't so bad, now is it?'.

"Hisarm makes him really strong. He can lift a whole lot of cool stuff with it...Just like our friend Karli. Do you know her, too?" The siblings nod, too distracted by Bucky's arm to face you, "That's actually why we're here. We came to town for Miss. Donya's funeral, but we've gotten a little lost...Maybe you two could help us? Do you know where it's going to be?"

They consider your question while glancing between both Bucky and you timidly. After a second, the sister finally motions for you to lean in which you do, allowing her to whisper in your ear.

"...Thankyou. We really appreciate it - and thanks for your drawing lessons, too. Maybe now I can finally draw my nephew a proper dog," The siblings match your smile before happily returning to their doodles.

"For your occupation, you are pretty good with kids," Zemo compliments and it's only then that you realize he had technically been left unattended for a few minutes there. Thank goodness he didn't take the opportunity to slip away, having instead spent that brief time passing out candies to children playing around the courtyard. That must be why he stuffed his pockets with those Turkish delights earlier. It seems you had similar plans of befriending them in exchange for information.

"What can I say? I got a soft spot for 'em," You shrug casually while keeping a close eye on him as he gifts the two siblings with the remainder of his candy stash since they missed out earlier.

"So did she tell you where the funeral is?" Bucky asks rather impatiently in your opinion.

"Yeah, because I actually smiled to look friendly," You chide, barely looking over your shoulder to face him, "She gave me an address, but we still have some time before it starts, so might as well go back to the safe house and wait. I, personally, could use some lunch in the meantime."

"Might I recommend: there is a wonderful restaurant down the street that makes exquisite cold borscht and sorrel soup," Zemo pipes in, following you as you slip right past Bucky. Neither of you spare him any more attention than his pouting deserves, which may be petty, but as far as you're concerned, he can feel the burn of being ignored for once himself.

"Sounds great. Now let's find Sam and be on our way. Our work here won't finish itself."

NEXT CHAPTER {coming soon}

<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Taglist:

@arunabrak

#bucky barnes x reader #x reader #reader insert #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #captain america #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #winter solider x reader #winter solider x y/n #falcon and winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #captain america civil war #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #stark reader #marvel x reader

[sentience-if]

oh another scenario ask, if you wouldn't mind!!! how'd the ROs react to a scenario where they idk, have to go on a mission + its a party and they have to dress up fancy and Io escapes their gremlin status for 1 evening and they come down the stairs looking RAVISHING and like the actual deity they might be LMAO & also how would they react to Io drowning in admirers & Io complimenting the ROs look!!! Crush phase bc that's always so cute hehe. Thank u and have the best day!!!!!

a classic

Ira: definitely flustered, but honest about how good they think Io looks, giving out compliments without hesitation. the attention Io gets doesn't bother them - it's deserved, after all - as long as Io isn't too into the admirers

Val: somehow more excited than anything else, though there's a high chance they're suppressing certain thoughts. Walks around with Io all night doing the Will Smith showing off his wife meme. Only bothered by the more... overzealous admirers, and maybe a little too willing to spirit Io away from a conversation and on to the next

Kat: also very generous with the compliments. Definitely isn't jealous because she's the one marching Io up to people and going on about how lovely they look tonight, don't you agree? Don't we make such a fine pair?

Klaus: only offers a few nice words, but his eyes are bright and Io has his full attention (even if it doesn't seem like it). He doesn't get jealous of any admirers that Io draws; if anything, each additional compliment seems to make him more and more smug

Connie: a little bit dumbstruck, and if they're on good terms with Io, manages a simple but sincere compliment. Keeps an eye on Io all night, and even gets uncharacteristically jumpy whenever someone gets too close. Io has no idea they had twice as many potential admirers but Connie's death stare scared them off

#ask #sentience if #val #constantine #klaus #ira #kat

[pomplalamoose]

can we get some hc’s for being dilf!lukes work wife pretty please 👀💗

a/n: for inclusivity's sake this is written for a gender neutral reader so everyone can enjoy <3

Hiiiii dear anon!!! Thank you so much for your request🩵

I'm not going to lie though, I found it somewhat difficult to think of Dilf!Luke with a work spouse due to his past and the way I generally like to imagine him to be.

But the concept really intrigues me and I have some ideas, so let's make some specific adjustments for this post to work:

• Dilf!Luke's first wife never died

• in fact he was never married to begin with

• his child is the result of a happy relationship which eventually ended in mutual agreement

• (otherwise he'd never allow himself to grow close to someone in a way like this)

• generally he's a slightly more positive version of himself, especially when compared to my other posts

On the other hand, here are some things that didn't change:

• he's always polite and hospitable, though keeps a distance between himself and everyone else

• a little bit intimidating with how he carries himself

• comes across as stern, though not as strongly as he does in my other posts

• even here I do not mention what kind of work it is he does, except that the two of you work together. I think it's fun to let everyone fill in the blanks with what they'd like best :)

• so imagine the first weeks at a new job: the new surroundings, hours, daily routines, tasks, co-workers...

• possibly you're one of the youngest among them as well and feel a little bit out of place, struggling to fit in among the already established relationships of your colleagues

• it's a lot and you find yourself wishing for someone to take you under their wing, even if it's just for the very beginning

• someone who looks out for you

• someone to have lunch with, to sit beside in meetings

• someone who takes time for you, to patiently answer any questions that might arise

• and maybe, if you're being honest, it's not just anybody you're hoping will do so

• handsome Mr. Skywalker, or Luke, as he introduces himself, works in the room just across the hall from yours, often brightening your surroundings simply by existing

• the most horrible day tends to change into a good one as soon as you catch a glimpse of his remarkable eyes or his private smile directed just at you

• a coincidental meeting by the coffee machine, on the stairs or in one of the many elevators is ways an event you think back to in the evening

• before you know it you're developing a major crush on him and, honestly, how could anyone not feel drawn to him?

• his looks

• his obvious kindness

• to the way he greets you by name when you clock in, his voice still a little bit rugged from sleep

• quickly it becomes your sole mission to catch his attention at least once a day, if even for the tiniest amount of time, just the smallest of interactions

• (you'd happily keep him company for hours on end if that's what he wanted but for now you'll take anything you can get)

• if only it weren't for a little problem

• (not to mention the rather obvious age difference)

• what you were already suspecting becomes a disappointing reality once you start to get more included by your other coworkers

• "he's generally well liked but sadly keeps to himself most of the time"

• "we already tried to get him out of his shell"

• "I see the way you look at him and believe me, many of us have been there.", a very nice elderly lady tells you

• "It's better to get him out of your head, my dear"

• "he's not one to seek out friendships or... other connections at work"

• and while you know they're probably right, that you should put your focus elsewhere, your thoughts can't seem to leave the mysterious older man alone

• like, you didn't even try!

• and so, more or less undeterred by your colleague's words, you make it a habit to include Luke into your work day

• after all there is no harm in being nice

• and no harm whatsoever in maybe flirting a little bit

• it does take him quite a while to warm up to you, though eventually, slowly, his careful kept distance wavers

• it starts without you realizing it at first but then, one morning, a steaming mug of your favorite tea/coffee sits on top of your desk to greet you

• (he's definitely a person to remember small things only mentioned in passing)

• maybe you don't connect the dots right away, still too tired to think properly

• and for a while you're confused, left to wonder; you can't even remember telling anyone about your favorite drink

• when you DO though and peek your head into his room to thank him, his response isn't more than a slightly amused expression that makes your stomach flutter

• sure this will have happened the first and only time, you try not to get your hopes up until small, colorful sticky notes appear in the files he returns to you

• they're often hidden, not to be spotted immediately, showing hand drawn smiley faces or fun little doodles

• and sometimes, when you're lucky, sweet messages written in Luke's familiar handwriting

• (those you treasure the most)

• suddenly, during lunch breaks, you often find yourself in the same spot in the park nearby (maybe intentionally so, maybe not) and end up spending them together

• during small talk that soon turns to more in depths conversations, you learn he likes to bake

• faced with your excitement it's not long after that he'd bring a batch of freshly made cookies with him just for you

• it'd definitely become a regular thing too, with him even trying out new recipes to ask your opinion and being super happy when you like them

• I think this is the point where, going forward, you'd only grow closer over time, eventually reaching that stage where it makes sense to call him your work husband

• he'd recommend books or movies to you, maybe music as well, that he thinks you'd enjoy and likes to hear about what you think he should try in return

• if you're currently learning a new language he'd memorize a few phrases to surprise you with simple greetings or compliments

• (alternatively he doesn't need to and would casually mention that he is in fact fluent, offering to practice with you)

• he'd like to surprise you with litte things to put on your desk

• maybe a fun plant, some cute organizers or, his favorite, completely obscure and very unnecessary trinkets he came upon on random that made him think of you

• on days that he knows will be particularly stressful, he brings in a few pretty flowers for you

• sometimes they're bought, sometimes he picks them on his way through the park, sometimes (very rarely), though he'd never admit to it in front of you, they're stolen out of someone's garden

• when you need a break he covers for you, no questions asked, seamlessly stepping into your role and everyone's way, keeping the others off your back

• during team celebrations, he ensures you get the best piece of cake or the best seat, or whatever it is you want at that moment

#ask #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker x oc #luke skywalker x y/n #gn reader #star wars #luke star wars #star wars fanfiction #dilf luke #dilf luke skywalker #star wars a new hope #star wars empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi #fanfic #luke headcanons #star wars headcanons #headcanons

[chibigo-ma]

Preview of ❝The Little Human Experiment❞ [Legoshi]

Summary: Misaki was just your typical teenage girl living in Japan, but not in the eyes of her society. She's a human in a life where animals live and think like "humans" in our society. She is now brought in as an experiment for her new life outside her facility to see if humans can co-exist with different other species. A certain wolf gets quite attached to our human friend as he is tasked to protect her.

"Going already?" Mei asked as Misaki grabbed her bag. "Yeah, I have to go over there now to facilitate the choreography for the Light Ceremony," Misaki said as she patted Haru's head. "Get back soon!" Haru waved at her human friend before she left.

Misaki opened her phone to text Shiela that she would go to the clubroom as soon as she walked down the stairs. As she made her way to the clubroom though, she witnessed Juno carrying a sloth to the restroom. "Misaki-senpai!" Juno greeted with a smile as she placed the sloth down. "Ah, hello, Juno. Late for rehearsal?" Misaki asked as they walked to the clubroom together. 

"Yeah, I am. I apologize. Are you late too, Misaki-senpai?" Juno asked as Misaki texted Shiela once again that Juno was with her. "Not really. I come in and out of the clubroom as I have two clubs to deal with," she shared. "Woah, really? You must be very busy then. It's still remarkable as you're still the assistant head," Juno had great admiration for the human as she clung to her.

"Assistant director, but still the same," Misaki corrected as she opened the door. "Sorry, I'm late!" Juno announces her arrival while still holding onto Misaki. Misaki raised an eyebrow as she noticed how tense the room was until they came in the room. The majority of the members went up to the two.

"Come on, Juno! You're supposed to text Sheila-senpai when you're late," Els informed the first-year. "She was carrying a sloth to the restroom, so her hands were occupied. It was very kind of you, Juno," Misaki acknowledges Juno's willingness. "Why, thank you, Misaki-senpai!" Juno was happy with Misaki's compliment. 

"I've also made sure that Shiela got the memo and to not get you in trouble, so no need to worry," Misaki shared as everyone was wow-ed by Misaki's consideration. "But it doesn't excuse me for being late, so I want to clean the training hall after school. Sorry, Louis-senpai," Juno apologized as she bowed. 

"Oh, Legoshi-senpai!" Juno called out to the gray wolf. "I saw the dinosaur in the plaza. It was really pretty. The stage crew is doing their best, so we actors are going to do our best with our dancing practice. We're very inspired!" Juno smiled widely and only had her eyes on him. "...Mm, good, good," Legoshi doesn't seem affected by Juno's comment. 

"Yeah, you guys did great. Seeing as it's also my first time seeing it, I'm proud of each one of you. I'll be sure to take pictures of all of them when they're finished," Misaki smirked and showed that her lock screen was now the T-Rex Statue they painted, making sure she looked everyone in the eye. 

"Aww, Misaki!" Dom looked flattered. "I'm happy it exceeded your expectations!" Kibi smiled as everyone in the creatives team was appreciative of Misaki's honest remark. "Ah, speaking of, Misaki," Shiela walked up to the human and dragged her towards Louis. "We have some sudden news to share with you," she shared as Louis glared at the cheetah due to her comment before. 

"Yes, Sanu suggested that you'll be our main dancer," Louis mentioned and Misaki was shocked. "What!? What do you mean? I'll be at the front?" Misaki covered her mouth with her hand. "One of our dancers won't be available for the festival and you know the dances well. So, they made Juno be back up and you in the center since you know the dance very well," he shared.

"There's only two days left though," she looked worried. "You'll do fine, you the entire dance anyway," Louis was confident. "Did... did Tarok tell you that I'll be revealed too? Is that why you weren't opposed to it?" Misaki asked. 

"Yes, he did tell me. I asked his permission for the dance and he's fine with it. You won't be wearing that get-up anymore," Louis smirked and Misaki sighed. "Fine, fine. I'll do it. I'll text Haru that I have a big role here so they won't have to worry about my whereabouts," Misaki shared as she went to grab her phone to text her. 

"We'll do a quick fitting with you. I'm sure they'll just readjust one of the existing outfits," Louis told her as Misaki was ready to walk away. "I'll let Legoshi know," Louis smirked upon seeing Misaki frozen in place. He chuckled and patted her back and walked away from her to talk to Legoshi. She quickly ran to the changing room and walked out wearing her PE Uniform. 

"Woah, you do have fur in your legs," Juno wondered as she gave a close inspection of Misaki's legs. "They're called Hair for humans. Despite it being short and thin, they make sure they regulate our body temperature and keep dirt away such as my lashes here," Misaki pointed her eyes to let Juno get a closer look. 

"Woah, they're so tiny," Juno giggled. As everyone was talking to Misaki and was excited to see her fully perform on stage, Legoshi kept his eyes only on her. He looked up and down her figure as he felt aroused by her appearance. 

"Stop eye fucking, my sister." Legoshi snapped out of it and shrank away as Louis glared at him. Louis was most annoyed upon seeing Legoshi's wagging tail when Misaki came into the room. "Sister?" Legoshi questioned. "She's like a sister to me, so don't go hurting her," Louis crossed his arms as it would seem that he was finally open for Misaki to be together with Legoshi. 

"So whatever happened before they came in was a misunderstanding on your part," Louis pointed out. "You got the tape measure ready?" Louis asked. 

"Oh, yeah, I do," Legoshi went to pull it out, "Fix your problem first," Louis interrupted and he walked away. "Problem?" Legoshi questioned. He looked down to see a tent in his pants. He panics and quickly runs to the restroom. He could not believe he just had a hard-on. It embarrassed him more to notice his tail wagging faster than ever. He really wants to disappear.

"Where's Legoshi?" Misaki asked after she got away from the questioning members. "He went to the restroom real quick. Dom will be measuring you instead," Louis informed her as he tried hiding his laughter, which Misaki noticed but she didn't question it. She would truly have a heart attack if she knew that she had such an effect on Legoshi.

#chibigo_ma #fanfiction #netflix #beastars #beastars legoshi #legoshi #legosi #beastars with humans #legoshi x reader #legoshi x oc

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Simmer (The Long-Awaited Reply to a Lingering Kiss)

Aziraphale Fell is an accomplished food writer and book collector who leads a quiet life. Anthony Crowley owns the Grand Duke Distillery, maker of Wanton Sinner Whisky, and has a reputation for living on the wild side. As former culinary school classmates, they share a love of food and drink — and a long ago kiss that neither one has ever quite forgotten. Are they just too different to ever make it work? (I bet you can guess.) Aziraphale rises from his chair, takes a few steps towards him, then hesitates. Crowley knows a hundred different emotions must be flickering across his face, reflecting all the turmoil between his head and his heart. His heart is loud, insistent, nudging him to see the earnest hope in Aziraphale’s expression, to remember the beatific boy who lent him a pen and kissed him on a stair step, urging him to not let go of this man with ink-stained fingers and rare books who constantly surprises him. His shoulders tense as his breath hitches, his voice hoarse. “You need to tell me exactly what you want.”

Length: 28,364 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Human AU, Romance

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by LemonTart

*Minor Spoilers* I really loved this version of Aziraphale and Crowley. In this AU, they had known each other in culinary school many years ago and one night shared a kiss that neither of them could fully forget. I love how we meet them in the future, as more than acquaintances but not close enough to know anything about each other's personal lives. But it's written all over them how much they both want to reconnect.

The tension between them simmers slowly as they begin to spend more time together. I absolutely adore food AUs because it allows them to be experts and intellectual equals, which I appreciate in a Human AU. It's important to me that they can keep pace with each other! When emotions finally reach a boiling point, they must be brave and honest about their desires. Then, they need to put in the effort to make it a reality. I would love to spend more time in this specific AU. I want to follow them as they visit new restaurants, sample whiskies, and cook together. I want to see how they manage their schedules and integrate into each other's lives now. The pacing was excellent, and it ends on a very satisfying note, but I can't help feeling greedy with this one. I want an extra helping.

Mostly safe in public, the sex is not too explicit and they're shorter scenes, so you could get away with it. But I think it makes a perfect binge read if you can settle in and read it in one go.

Read it here, fic by LemonTart

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #Simmer (The Long-Awaited Reply to a Lingering Kiss) #medium #human au #three flames #food au #romance #love confessions #mostly safe in public