#*giggling and kicking my legs* once I finish posting THIS au I can post a NEW au (and maybe some more canon.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Note

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand.

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

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“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin.

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him.

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans.

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.”

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard.

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question.

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!”

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.”

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?"

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this."

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'."

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it.

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject.

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.”

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened.

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.”

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling.

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?”

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?”

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.”

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked.

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.”

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down.

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.”

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased.

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.”

#geraskier #gamer geralt #streamer geralt #teacher jaskeir #noob jaskeir #geraskier boyfriends #geraskier fluff #soft geraskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier fic #geraskier modern au #the witcher modern au #look this is so self indulgent i hope yall still like it #lmao

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hollyhomburg · 4 years

Text

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 6) (Yoonminjoon x Reader)

Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok,

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn't want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, low self-worth, bonding over trauma, themes of healing, mute characters, scent-marking, brief gore, themes of deception, complex characters

W/c: 10.6k

Song Rec: Hozier ~ Eden

Series Masterlist

An informative bulletin on Hybrid sense of Smell:

Out of all of the positives that hybrids inherit from their animal dna- their sense of smell is simply unparalleled. It’s one of the more peculiar and therefore interesting subsets of hybrid behavior. Hybrid sense of smell is just like any of the other senses though, in terms of the amount of sensory information contained, it is more on par with sight than the fragile human nose. It is possible that the vast majority of hybrid to hybrid communication is completely pheromonal. most scent glands are found on the wrists and neck.

When an owner or human initially comes into contact with a hybrid, the flush of new sensory information will be hard to parse out for most hybrids (and all but those with the most sensitive smell). At first, a hybrid will only be able to sense if you are feeling “good” or “bad” the same way we can often only tell when food smells good or bad.

But as time goes on, and hybrids become more accustomed to the particular hormonal balance of their humans they become more adept at deciphering their emotional state through their scent. Eventually, a person smelling simply ‘happy’ or ‘sad’ becomes “amused” and “contemplative” or any other host of emotions. This is one of the reasons why hybrids make intense emotional partners, as hybrids become accustomed to their owners or pack mates and they become extremely attuned. Some hybrids are even able to smell their female owner's ovulation cycle and if they’re pregnant before the owner themselves.

Scent is one of the most highly individualized parts of hybrid society, with no two hybrids smelling exactly the same (some exceptions can be made for close siblings and twins) scent-marking behavior is something commonly seen only between hybrids and their owners, as well as between hybrids in the same pack. As scent-marking leaves sort of an imprint of hybrid's emotional state on their partner. It is also a nonverbal queue for other hybrids “this person makes me very happy- please be kind to them for me” or “this is my human, please stay away” a negative impression will also be left on a human if they cause a hybrid distress.

Of course, certain species hybrids are more adept at this kind of empathy than others, with rabbit hybrids having the most sensitive sense of smell and therefore pungent scents, and most exotic hybrids including bird hybrids and snake hybrids, having a less sensitive nose and more mild scents which are harder to discern.

Many other tidbits of information can be conveyed through scents, weather a possible partner will be compatible for a heat/rut cycle, if they are upset and if they are injured or hurt, and their emotional state. There is even some debate that deception can be gleaned through scent (but that claim will need further research).

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- You wake with a start, started into wakefulness by a piercing shriek and then shouting. Out of all of the times you’ve suddenly woken out of a dead sleep this is by far the least violent. There isn’t anyone in your room but you, the covers overly warm, golden early morning light seeping through the windows, peaceful and idyllic.

- it isn’t one of the times that your late husband had dragged you out of the bed, kicking and screaming because he’d found something on your phone, a strange charge on your credit card, or woken to the feel of him above you, or woken to his screaming at Namjoon.

- You tell yourself that it’s just any other day, that this morning isn’t one of those. but your heart dosent understands that. thundering, your hands shaking.

- The days when you wake up slowly in Namjoon’s arms- those are the best mornings. But Namjoon isn’t next to you- and somehow your heart won’t start shuddering. Namjoon isn’t here and you want him there and your mind somewhere else entirely as you shakily exit your bedroom, tying your robe around you deftly.

- One benefit of living in an old house is that you can hear nearly everything that goes on, and you can hear Jimin's words below you “Yoongi- don’t look”

- Sometimes- you still have days where you hate your bedroom. Days where you won’t cross over the threshold with Namjoon already there, his every presence comforting to you- willing away any bad thought that might arise, any trigger or memory. You’d painted the walls a different color- the dark green changed to a light pastel blue- but some of the memories still linger even though it looks different and far warmer than it did when it was your husband's old bedroom.

- Most of the positive change has to do with Namjoon’s presence, the countless pillows that he likes to sleep with, the fluffy throws, his organized but slightly wry shirts in your open closet, his small stack of parenting books by your dresser. It might be the same room you were hurt in, but it feels different most of the time, especially when you’ve got namjoon all stretched out in your bed, All of the peace you have starts and ends with Namjoon.

- But maybe that’s changing, maybe you find a certain calm in Yoongi and Jimin too. Jimin is the first one you see, sending you a panicked glance as Namjoon cleans his face of blood, trying to stand in front of Yoongi for whatever reason the snake hybrid looking a little paler than usual.

- You stumble to the bottom of the stairs in your thick fluffy robe, some of your hair sticking up at the back. You take one good look at the snake, rub your eyes a bit, and then turn to the cat hybrid sprawled in the grass. Your eyes are steely, unflinching as you help her up, ask if she’s okay. All the while, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin blink back the sleep from their eyes, not knowing what to do about the snake, hanging flayed open on your front door.

- You take one long look at the snake too. All of you silent for a moment before you jump into action. “We’ll get this cleaned up before you get back with the others, wake Taehyung too if you wouldn’t mind? Tell him I’m calling a meeting before breakfast to make sure no one slips away for chores.”

- That Jimin understands, Many a time had he seen the younger and teenaged hybrids leave the table the second their plates where finished. Though he has to admit- this feels less like a prank gone wrong and more like I direct threat with the way Yoongi is blinking behind Namjoon, the other hybrid talking to him in his low voice. Hands out like they might touch him, Namjoon’s tail hanging low between his legs.

- You’re just about to turn away when Jimin grabs your arm. “There’s something you should know,” he’s quick to explain what happened last night, who kicked him out of his bed and the reason why he’d been asleep on your couch. Your mouth turns down the more he talks. “Bring Minhyung too okay? Are you okay lovely?” you keep Jimin’s hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

- The cat smooth’s out a wrinkle in her skirt and clears her butt of any dirt that might have gotten on it when she’d fallen backward, her tail flicks agitatedly “I’m okay miss, it just gave me a fright.”

- “I can’t imagine how none of us heard anything,” Namjoon says- finishing cleaning the blood from his face, thanking Yoongi for the towel. He looks a little shaken but mostly all right. “I know” Jimin agrees- “it was barely 10 feet from me and I didn’t hear it.” You grimace, still looking at the door and the snake, Namjoon finished wiping the blood off his face and you gesture for the rag.

- Jimin steps up “I’ll do it- you don’t have too” surprisingly the nail isn’t that deeply driven into the wood once Jimin gets over his initial squeamishness over handling the dead animal. Namjoon heads off as soon after Jimin gets it free to bury it in the garden. Still in his pajamas. You usher Yoongi upstairs while Jimin cleans the door of blood.

- You’ve been in Yoongi’s room a handful of times (when it was just your husband's house it used to be an office) but the dark blue walls fit Yoongi better now. His queen mattress pushed in the corner, an old ladder that Yoongi had repurposed hanging with half a dozen thick blankets and fluffy duvets, assorted space heaters and fans sitting on the desk pushed up against the foot of his bed. It’s cozy mostly- the curtains all drawn so the room feels more like a den or a cave. Dark- but warm and comforting, it feels safe even.

- Now that Yoongi’s away from the others it looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, raking his fingers through his hair and twitching a little, He can’t relax or standstill. You set a cup of coffee for him on his bedside table and linger. Unsure if you don’t want to leave him alone or if he wants to be to regroup for a second. “Yoongi” he turns and looks at you, and sometimes- like this time. It almost seems like Yoongi wants to say something to you- but just- can’t get the words out.

- You wonder more than you’d care to admit- if his muteness is selective or something physical. Namjoon wonders too, what his voice sounds like if his laugh is more of a giggle like Jimin’s or something crackling like Nam Joon. “Do you-“ a little noise stops you, Yoongi’s hands clench and unclench by his side.

- You reach out a hand unthinking, stopping a second before you actually cup his cheek. You and Yoongi are no stranger to almost touches, especially on his good days. Many times you’ve felt the almost brush of his hand on your lower back when you stand, sometimes you actually do feel it.

- You were no stranger to slight touches either, always in the secluded privacy of your garden or the house when it’s late and the curtains are drawn. In front of namjoon too. You’d linked pinky’s more than once over a bed of flowers when you were taking a break. as he fed you a sweet strawberry or green beans from the garden. The pad of his finger lingering on your lower lip for just a second too long to not be intentional.

- But never had you initiated the touch, not like this. Your hand cups his cheek and Yoongi leans into it, eyes fluttering closed. The bags under his eyes are almost black-purple. The scales under his chin feel cool under your fingers, only slightly smoother and cooler than the rest of his skin.

- You’d asked Namjoon about it, pacing in your room after one day when you’d seen Namjoon watch you and Yoongi with a strange look on his face. You didn’t want to do anything that made him uncomfortable. At the end of the day, it will always be Namjoon. You won’t leave him or hurt him- not ever if you can help it. Thought at the beginning, you feared you could hurt him by accident with Yoongi.

- It was back when your baby bump had barely been visible- not like now when even your baggiest dresses barely conceal your bump. Nothing but a strategically placed pillow concealing Namjoon’s nakedness as he laid back in your bed late at night. Namjoon scrolling through his phone (new, a gift from you. though it will only last about a week until he decideds to try and ‘wash’ off the dirt that got on it and compeltly ruin it)

- You’d had minor disagreements over other hybrids in the past. Namjoon was mostly okay with you giving out pets like they’re one-dollar bills at the strip club. And was equally as nonplussed when some of the younger hybrids that don’t know any better cuddled close enough to you that you ended up smelling like them. But there had been one incident where one of the older canine hybrids had mistakenly scent marked you.

- Namjoon had been a little angry growling at you the second he’d smelled the fox’s scent on you and demanding you shower. Rightfully upset, he’d explained that that was practically a claiming mark. He’d been touchy and a little bit grumpy the rest of the week, an arm thrown around your waist whenever the other hybrid was around.

- But Yoongi Doesn’t seem to upset him in the same way. “I don’t get what you’re so worried about- it’s fine- it’s not like he’s not part of our pack or a stranger.”

- You’d stopped where you’d been pacing a hole in your carpet. “What do you mean- apart of the same pack?” Namjoon sighed, tossing his phone to the side (he doesn’t quite understand that he needs to be gentle with it yet). “it’s like- it’s not the same as if it was a random farmer across the street- because it’s Yoongi and he’s one of us, it doesn’t make me feel possessive because he’s mine too you know?”

- They had been getting close recently, there aren’t many hybrids at the farm yet, and Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin are the only ones who’ve stayed any length of time you’d consider significant. You’d woken alone late at night a few times in the last week and gone down to the living room lower level only to find Namjoon and Yoongi asleep on opposite ends of the couch.

- “But he’s not a canine hybrid Joonie? Don’t you only form pack bonds with other dog hybrids?” Namjoon shaking his head, ears flapping a little, “not at all, though it is rarer- and Yoongi won’t exactly feel it the same way I do, he’s still apart of this too.”

- It hits you like a truck, “you mean- you love him too?”

- You’d been meaning to ask Namjoon- if the pack bonds now extended to Jimin too, you had a feeling they did but it was probably better to ask…before anything more significant happens.

- You know that Yoongi is okay with touch as long as it’s not skin on skin and if he can control it. But you can’t not offer the affection now- not when you think it might help- not when Yoongi looks like he’s about ready to jump out of his skin with how afraid he is.

- You can tell his whole body is shivering but he doesn’t move to pull away when you lift up your other hand to slowly cup his cheek. He doesn’t move away when you get up on your tippy-toes to press your lips to his forehead. He smells soft and sweet like freshly done laundry. His hands come up too, loosely settling around your waist like he’s not sure he wants to pull you in for a hug yet.

- “We’ll get to the bottom of this yoongi, I promise” you give him one shorter squeeze and then separate. And Yoongi looks like he wants to keep holding you and also like he doesn’t. So you figure it’s best. You hover in the doorway, “take your time coming down today okay? We’ll have the meeting and then we can have breakfast up here if you’re not feeling up to being around the others today.”

- Your front door is clean, the light blue wood spotless when you come down the stairs, and By that time the cat hybrids have already returned to the kitchen. after changing into a loose knee-length dress, spotted with little flowers. It’s too hot for anything-tight today- but with your growing bump- everything feels tight. You’re only a few weeks away from the end of your second trimester, and you’re thankful that so far- you haven’t felt much morning sickness. You think you have a doctor’s visit later this week though- you’ll have to ask namjoon, he’s better at remembering that sort of thing than you are.

- One hybrid comes through the backdoor with a clutch of eggs from the chicken coop, the egg basket piled high, Jimin is with them too- holding a few eggs in his shirt- held out tight to make a basket, the cat hybrid smiles at you, “got almost 3 dozen today miss!”

- “Perfect for the frittata?” Jimin asks, unsure. “Quiche.” you and the cat hybrid correct at the same time. The three of you filing into the kitchen, Jimin careful not to break the eggs.

- A certain sleepy wolf hybrid is already sitting at your prep table, looking nervous, his scent souring when he sees you and Jimin. Jimin stays, this time crossing his arms and leaning up against the cabinets to watch Minhyung squirm. You sit down at the prep table across from him and pour him a cup of tea.

- He looks worried- sending a glance back and forth to Jimin and then to you. He knows what he did last night was wrong- and though Jimin can’t see any snake’s blood underneath his fingernails, the suspicion and dislike of the wolf hybrid still linger.

- But he doesn’t look like he’s trying to conceal anything. He just looks scared, eyes flicking from hybrid to hybrid, to the door and then the window and anywhere but at you and Jimin. Before the conversation’s even started, Jimin’s suspicion dissipates. While he agrees that Minhyung may be a dick, Jimin can’t believe that a hybrid would do this- they all know what discrimination feels like. Which is what makes their distaste of Yoongi particularly abhorrent.

- “I hear you have a certain problem with how I treat Yoongi, Minhyung. Would you like to elaborate? Or maybe explain why you kicked Jimin out of the bunk room last night? Or why you left a snake nailed to my front door-“

- “What?! I didn’t- I promise that wasn’t me,” Minhyung is smart- he understands what the commotion this morning was about. By now Taehyung must have woken everyone up- must have already told everyone about the meeting. Jimin doesn’t know if they’ve ever had one before, but judging by the general tense atmosphere in the kitchen alone- it must not be a regular occurrence.

- “I’m sorry,” he says, turning to Jimin, “I honestly thought you would be sleeping up here. I don’t sleep well and when you woke me up- I reacted badly. I promise I’ll be kinder- just don’t- please don’t throw me out.”

- “It’s not up to me,” Jimin says, his voice small, he gives you a look- that he hopes you interpret as ‘it’s up to you- I’m done with this’ and leaves the room. Only to find Yoongi hovering just outside, hidden behind the wall listening in.

- Jimin hears you and Minhyung starting up the conversation again, mostly it's him speaking this time- talking about his old owner who used sleep deprivation as a tactic to make him obedient. You don’t say much, just listen sipping at your tea. Yoongi lifts a finger to his lips and hands Jimin a carefully folded piece of paper. “I don’t think it was him.” By now Jimin is used to the way Yoongi sometimes converses on paper when he needs to communicate.

- “Do you know who it was then?” Jimin whispers, Yoongi shakes his head, but there is something about the tilt of his eyes that Jimin can’t find it in him to trust. But if there is a reason that Yoongi has for lying to him- then Jimin will trust it’s a good reason.

- He goes back into the kitchen, summoning you; you stand and walk to the door so that you won’t be overheard. Teetering a little bit, you look a little shaky too like you aren’t quite awake. Maybe that’s it- or is there something else? A shakiness behind your eyes too? Jimin can’t decipher it. Minhyung stays there, sitting looking contrite and like he’s close to tears. Fiddling with his hands under the table.

- “What are you going to do?” Jimin asks, Yoongi waiting too, his note crumpled in his fist. Namjoon comes thundering down the stairs in his work boots, looking intimidating as ever in all black. He must have snuck upstairs to change after he buried the snake in your garden. “I don’t know,” you say easily, crossing your arms over your baby bump, looking at Namjoon and sighing before you meet Jimin and Yoongi’s eyes. “Do you think he did it Yoongi?”

- Yoongi shakes his head, pursing his lips and Jimin decides that damn- he’s either a convincing liar or what he noticed earlier was just something else. Maybe Yoongi feeling uncomfortable. The buttons on his usual linen button-down aren’t buttoned right and his hair doesn’t have that usual perfectly swept out of his face look. Jimin is the only one still in his pajamas (which actually belongs to Yoongi) but he’ll try to change during the meeting.

- “If I throw him out there is a chance I could be punishing someone innocent, and if I let him stay there is a chance he could be guilty” Namjoon sits across the armrest of the old couch. “You’ve never thrown out someone before,” he says, bending down to tie his work boots.

- “No,” you say, eyes sharp on Namjoon, “but I’ve let you do it.”

- Namjoon freezes, standing up looking contrite, “I didn’t know you knew about that” Yoongi sends Jimin a panicked look; worried they’re about to witness some sort of fight between the two of you. But you just raise an eyebrow at Namjoon looking more tired than annoyed. “I’m not angry, but this should always be a joint decision,” you fiddle with Namjoon’s sleeve, tenderly smoothing over the edge of it. “So it’s settled then?”

- “This isn’t only our home anymore” you peer into the kitchen, keeping part of your body hidden by the wall. Minhyung still sits hands underneath his thighs, his head snaps up, black ears still buried in his hair. “You can stay, I trust you know that if anything else happens…” you trail off, he scrambles up from the prep-table. “Well, I trust you’ll have more sense than that.”

- He scrambles up from the prep-table. Minhyung almost breaks his back bowing to you, promising that he won’t do anything, that he’ll be the perfect hybrid again and again before he’s off down the hill- back to change out of his pajamas.

- It’s a humid day out and it isn’t even sunny, the moisture in the air oppressive. The hybrids are sleepy- hair and ears ruffled from sleep, some of them in work clothes and some of them still in their pajamas.

- Jimin sees one of the little ones make grabby arms at Seokjin (who looks clean pressed as ever) and the alpaca hybrid heaves the young one up into his arms, where it promptly closes its eyes and leans on his wide shoulder- the perfect place for a nap. Seokjin blushes when the new hybrid from a few weeks back, the otter Hoseok, comes over to coo at the little doe hybrid. His hands smoothing up and down her spine.

- Someone gets you a step stool and though Namjoon makes a face- he lets you use it to climb up onto a table. His hands anxiously hovering around your waist to make sure you won’t fall, he whines. But you ignore his instincts to be overprotective. Jimin can see the tension in Namjoon’s arms- he seems so worried that you’re going to fall- it’s almost cute.

- “This morning, a snake was nailed to my front door.” This is greeted by a few murmurs, nervous glances, and internal cringes. You hold up a hand, and the gathered hybrids all fall silent again. “You should all understand what safety means for a hybrid, and the fact that you would make one of your own feel unsafe and unwelcome- it hurts me. Because I obviously haven’t done a good enough job of taking care of you if you’re lashing out at one of your own. Yoongi is not to blame for your hurt.”

- Jimin is impressed by the way that you command their attention, The surrounding hybrids look scared; some look contrite, but most just look uncomfortable at being called out. They all know that Yoongi staying up in the main house and not in the barns isn’t a result of favoritism, but a necessity because of his inability to regulate his own body temperature. And even if you were playing favorites- it’s not like you don’t do the same with Namjoon?

- “If anyone has any complaints or is upset by the way I treat any one of you- you should come to me and talk about it. Not take it out on each other or my front door for that matter.” that gets a few chuckles out of the crowd. And it’s mostly the cat hybrids that have left the dishes in the kitchen to simmer rather than miss your announcement.

- After the meeting and breakfast, the four of you linger in the lower level of your house. The cleanup crew already blasting country music in your kitchen, and Jimin can see every twang of the country music irritates Yoongi and Namjoon

- Namjoon even making a small noise and rubbing his ears. You sigh, straightening out your dress on the bottom step, your hands shake a little. And you’re not the only one, Yoongi sits, his shoulders hunched. It only takes one glance up at them all for you to stop. Setting your sun hat back on the hook.

- “You know what- fuck this. We need to get out of here today.”

- All of you piling into your beat-up red truck, the same one Jimin had come to the farm in. Namjoon runs back in at the last moment to grab your purse. Yoongi and Jimin in the back two seats, a little cramped. Namjoon gets the front on account of his long legs. None of you talk about a destination as you make a three-point turn rather than try and back out of your near mile-long driveway.

- Not one hybrid lounging in the fields or moving about had given them so much as a look when you’d drove down the long hill. Pausing at the end only because Taehyung was nearby, the hybrid calling to you and trotting over to lean at your car door, his smile as happy as ever. Bear ears flickering in the holes cut out of his baseball cap.

- “Want to come with?” you offer, but Taehyung just shakes his head, “Nah my queen needs me” he tilts his head back in the direction of the bee hutches. is it Jimin’s imagination, or do you look a little crestfallen? “Need anything?” you’d proffered. He’s so tall he has to slouch to be at face level with you. Taehyung doesn't ask where you’re going, only looks as Yoongi leans over the front seat to fiddle with the radio, as if judging how affected the snake hybrid is by what transpired this morning. he flicks from channel to channel trying to find a song he likes. “Nothing really, maybe some more jars for honey if you can find them?”

- You nod softly “that I can do.” Taehyung steps back and waves as you pull out of the gates of the farm. And Jimin feels anticipation build underneath his skin. He’d rarely ever been outside of his old home before and now- now he was leaving the farm too- the destination uncertain.

- “Please don’t speed,” Namjoon says, Yoongi leans back from the radio, finally settled on some song with a low thread beat, more musical than anything else. The snake seems to vibrate with the force of the music and between that, the sound of the engine, and the wind whipping through the open windows, Namjoon has to shout to be heard. The wind tickles, but it’s the only relief from the muggy June heat since your air-conditioning is busted.

- You smile at him lightly; at 10am on the dusty dirt road there isn’t a sing soul with you on the road. You gun it. Namjoon grips the handle on the roof looking green, but when jimin looks over and sees you and Yoongi smiling at Namjoon’s queasy ness- his anxiety dissipates. It doesn’t matter that your truck is rusty and that you’re barely going over 40 in a 35- to Namjoon, one mile over the speed limit is breaking the law.

- You stop at the drive-through before you get on the highway, iced coffee for Yoongi, blended lemonade for Jimin, a hot chocolate for Namjoon (a travesty when it’s this hot) and an iced tea for you. The yellow lemons in your tea Jiggling with the ice as you hit potholes with little care for your truck. Yoongi leaning over periodically to change the song. Namjoon telling Jimin what genre is playing when he confesses he doesn’t know one, “is it jazz or ska?” Yoongi holds up two fingers- indicating the second choice, Namjoon nods.

- You look over your shoulder- sharing a special secret glance with jimin, rolling your eyes a little. Now he understands why you rarely ever play music when you work- if you did yoongi would get up to change the music every few seconds.

- “So where are we going?” you tap your fingers against the steering wheel, waiting to turn south onto the highway. “Probably not the beach, but maybe the State park? What do you think Joonie?”

- “I wouldn’t mind the state park, it’s got a pretty view” Jimin tries not to let his Disappointment show, especially when Namjoon turns to Jimin, sensing the whine that died in his throat. Yoongi nudges Jimin's foot with his own. The light turns green and you start to turn onto the highway. “I’ve never seen the ocean.”

- “What!?” you and Namjoon shout in tandem, you lurch to a dead stop, suddenly turning, around instead of just turning left. Yoongi turning to jimin mouth open. “Yeah- I’d never- I’d only been outside of like one block before coming to you?” Yoongi shakes his head as you get going the opposite way on the highway- getting into the slow lane because your truck just can’t handle going over 60 no matter how much you want it to be able to do that. “You don’t have to” Jimin tries to say; you smile when you glance over your shoulder at him. “I’m already on the highway Jimin.”

- Jimin pretends it doesn’t make his heart hurt a little bit to see you change so easily for him, the truck thudding along. Yoongi holding out the last half of his ice coffee for Jimin to try, smiling when he makes a face at the bitterness. You hold out your ice tea too, trading it for a sip of Jimin’s frozen lemonade. Namjoon offering him, but you being a little snarky, “sorry babe but I don’t think anyone but you want a hot chocolate in the middle of June.”

- Namjoon turns his full lanky body in your direction, thighs bulging out on the pleather, tipping his back and out of the window. “It just makes me unique,” you swallow, and jimin sees how viscerally you’re affected by the long line of him stretched out in the front seat of your car.

- Yoongi’s writes something on his notepad and handing it over to Jimin. “Yoongi wants you to know that you’re as unique as a dog sticking his head out the window of a car.” Namjoon scoffs, you laugh, Namjoon’s smirk as he looks at Yoongi is shy, and Jimin knows how that feels- the pride you feel at being known enough to be teased. “At least I know the difference between Ska and jazz now, that has to count something for uniqueness.”

- Jimin scoffs, “you gonna keep an imaginary tally or something?” Namjoon flicks his ears in Jimin’s direction, grinning, happy to be teased. “Yes- we can keep track, start being really weird like cutting our shirts into crop tops and painting them and shit,”

- “Oh please do that,” you say, and it’s a surprisingly attractive offer. Jimin has seen Namjoon’s stomach, all hard lines, and juicy skin when it pulls up or when it gets really hot and he takes off his shirt. And he can’t say he disagrees and judging by the high blush on Yoongi’s cheeks, he dosent either. All of you laugh with the way that Namjoon blushes and grumbles and fiddles with the edge of his shirt. The puppy is just too easy to tease.

- After some prodding, Jimin is tempted to lean his head out of the window too, and when he does he has to admit- looking down the narrow stretch of highway, eyes watering, his ears getting battered like hell because of the wind. It is worth it, his sensitive nose catching bits of something that smells like salt and fish the closer you get.

- Even Yoongi is tempted to do the same, though he might not get the same amount of joy the dog hybrids get from sticking their heads out the window. The wind sending his hair all windswept against his forehead. Curling because of the humidity.

- Yoongi’s tongue sticks out a little, as a snake hybrid his sense of smell isn’t nearly as good as Namjoon and Jimin’s, but it’s better when he can taste the air, the saltiness thicker the closer you get to the coast. Namjoon and Jimin’s tails wag out a rhythm on the seats.

- The beach is absolutely beautiful, the waves rolling and curling light blue but stormy the further out you go, Namjoon leaves his workboots in your truck and Jimin gets his knees and shorts all dirty in the sea spray, Yoongi declining to join in the water, writes that the salt makes his scales feel sticky and sits in the sand with your and Jimin’s shoes. Content to lean back and watch.

- Namjoon holding your hand to keep you steady as you dip your feet into the spray, your dress wiping in the wind. Jimin going crazy with excitement for a moment before he kicks at the spray and chases a few seagulls. None of you brought your swimsuits but Jimin dunks his full body once you gesture for him to take off his shirt so it won't get wet. You and Namjoon seem to have enough fun just dipping your feet in the cold water- but Jimin can’t get enough of the ocean now that he’s seen it. The way the waves curl, the thunder, the sharpness of salt on his tongue.

- He gets to knee height, and then to stomach height, the water is cold and a little unpleasant, but it’s worth it for the way the small waves ripple around him. Looking down at his body in the sea spray Jimin realizes- he doesn’t have a single bruise left on his body. It’s been some time since he came to stay at the farm and besides a few scars and aches, he doesn’t have a single mark on his body from what happened to him.

- The marks that lie underneath his skin- on Jimin’s soul could never go away as easily as that- but for a moment, he lets himself believe that the water could wash away even the wounds unseen. The last few weeks have taught Jimin that it’s not that easy, but if grief is the cousin of healing then Jimin will let himself feel sad about this if it means he can hope that one day he’ll barely feel broken.

- When he submerges his body and feels the drag of the ocean out to see, he lets himself imagine that the ocean is taking something from him and dragging it to a deep place where it can weigh on him anymore. And maybe when he gets his head above water- he feels a tiny infinitesimal bit better. but only time will tell if it actually makes it better. Jimin is on his way to healing and he knows he only needs time.

- When he gets back out, he almost stumbles in the surf and looks back at the beach, where the three of you are waiting for him. The three of you watch him separate himself from the waves. Your eyes going up and down his chest. Yoongi looking away after a moment. Writing on his pad of paper and scribbling it out angrily after a moment. Handing it over to Jimin

- “Feel better?” “Yeah- it’s” he shakes his body, ears flopping and sticking to his wet hair, the seawater beading in the sand. “It's nice in there. You should go in” “next time,” Yoongi writes. “You look a lot better Jiminie,” Namjoon says, handing over his flannel so that Jimin can use it to dry off. “What do you mean?” you stand to poke playfully at Jimin’s little poochy tummy, “you’ve gained a lot of weight you look healthy, I love it. ”

- He feels the fire in his cheeks, your words making his heart stutter. “Just one second” he turns away and hides his blush in Namjoon’s flannel, a high-pitched and very loud whine building in his chest or something like the need to scream swallowed by his throat because- ah fuck. He’s feeling something he shouldn’t be, isn’t he? But he must make some noise because you’re all laughing, Yoongi’s shoulders shaking as he hides his smile behind his hand.

- Before he’s turning back and handing it back to Namjoon face redder than a tomato. The other hybrid doesn’t say a thing about how it’s soaked in both water and Jimin’s scent, he Just ties it around his waist like Jimin’s scent clinging to him is the most natural thing in the world.

- You go back to the car so Namjoon can get his shoes, you talk about heading back but Yoongi isn’t ready to leave, wants to stay a little bit longer. You walk along the boardwalk; you buy some fried food that the three of you snack on, cyclone potatoes, and fried clams. Yoongi crunches into them happily, his cute little fang curling around his lip.

- Eventually, the boardwalk turns from games and restaurants into a small flea market, kitschy decorations, an overpriced Pepsi sign from the 1950s, a table made out of a glass coffin, curling horns mounted from some sort of creature. You mill about when your phone rings, shrill. “Hey Tae, what’s wrong?” you fiddle with a glass wall hanging; the stained glass fashioned to look like a cherry. Prattling onto Taehyung over the phone as Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin look through the tables of knickknacks.

- Yoongi eyes a silk dress shirt- Kind of garishly patterned. As behind them, a little girl points in their direction. There aren’t many other hybrids out on the boardwalk today, so Namjoon smiles at her, his scarred lip always moves a little less than the rest of his face, and the little girl’s mother pulls her closer and moves on quickly. Namjoon’s smile falls crestfallen.

- But as quick as the disquiet comes Yoongi is making him laugh by showing him a figurine- a piggybank that looks like a butt, the crack a hole for a coin. And the moment is forgotten. Most of the time- Jimin forgets what Namjoon must look like to the others, the scars that stretch, one from his jaw to halfway up to his cheek, another across and eye, and the newer one- from his chin to his lip.

- Jimin spies a weird metal holder, a sun on the front, mostly rusty, weird holes and test tubes set up so that they can stand in the holes. The man who runs the stand comes over to him. He’s not unkind to them, seems to be something of an outcast himself with his tattoos and gauged piercings. He greets jimin with a wide smile. “It’s meant for flowers, the test tubes hold one a piece” Namjoon smiles at him too. Sidling up behind Jimin, putting a hand on his shoulder. Namjoon’s warmth splaying over half his back “how much is it?”

- By now it's no secret how much Jimin loves flowers, a love both of you share (Yoongi’s thing is more vegetables). “Namjoon you don’t have too- I don’t need it” he looks like he’s about to say something, Yoongi scrawling something but before either of them can say anything, you get off the phone a few feet away. Pinching the bridge of your nose and their attention is diverted.

- You look substantially more stressed and they don’t need to ask what happened. “Apparently everything goes to shit when we’re gone, but a fuse blew in the house and now none of the refrigerators are working. We also got another call but the old owners are gonna drop the hybrid off later tonight. And apparently, a goat got into the garden but Seokjin got to him before he’d done any damage.” Yoongi looks about ready to run back into the truck at that.

- “Probably because he was distracted running after that otter hybrid again” you slap Namjoon’s arm good-naturedly. “Hush they’ve got crushes, and you remember what that’s like right?” Namjoon glances at Jimin and then at Yoongi, “yeah- I think I do.”

- As you’re on the way out you pass by the fruit section of the flea market- the place that is more a farmers market at the edge of the boardwalk. “those watermelons look good” you divert your course, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, “next thing I know her cravings are going to have me putting watermelon in sour cream soon”

- “That doesn’t seem like a bad combination at all” Yoongi makes a disgusting face, suddenly freezing when he looks over your shoulder, someone walks close to him, nearly knocking into Yoongi and his scent, disquieted and afraid fluffs towards Namjoon and jimin, they hover- instantly surrounding Yoongi while you are unaware.

- Which is fine- you’re not a hybrid and you can’t smell Yoongi’s distress like they can, you’re distracted by the lady who owns the stand coming upfront to greet you. Namjoon shrivels his nose, the smell of cigarettes permeating and making it hard for him to smell anything else.

- He tries to waves his hands and tell Namjoon and Jimin he’s fine but they won’t listen, the two of them stand on either side of him, staying close but not touching Yoongi- keeping anyone else in the crowd from coming close.

- You start talking to the woman who looks like she owns the stand. she gives one of the watermelons a hearty slap and yoongi flinches. She’s got long black hair and a wide smile- but she looks nice. She makes a wry comment about your baby bump and the watermelons, which you laugh about good naturedly about even if it is a little rude in Jimin’s opinion. Saying that you’re not at the true watermelon part of your pregnancy yet.

- In the end- you part with 10 (for everyone on the farm- it can never hurt to have easy snacks like watermelon in storage) and a half-bushel of their assorted vegetables. As much as you want to be completely self-sustainable your vegetable garden isn’t nearly ready to support every hungry mouth at the farm, and their English cucumbers are long and hard. You look happy to do business with them all said and done.

- The lady directs one of her farm hands, a big burly man with a bunch of tattoos to help Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi carry them back and fort to your truck. Yoongi stops you when they’re finished. Shoving a note in your direction. “There’s something I want to go do, can you give me a second?”

- You nod, already taking out your wallet. Behind the two of you Jimin sneaks a handful of grape tomatoes into his pocket- they’re still his favorite. “we’ll get a few snacks for the drive home, take your time” he tries to not take your money but you won’t take no for an answer. Eventually shoving it in the breast pocket of his linen shirt if he won’t take it with his hands. He grumbles, shoving the wad of 20’s deep in his pocket.

- The three of you don’t think anything of it at all. After all- snake hybrids have uniquely tricky scents to parse out. So it’s no wonder why Jimin and Namjoon don’t smell the distress coming from him still. You think you notice something- but you let it slide. You’re never one to let Yoongi’s sudden mood changes affect you or take them personally.

- Sometimes he just gets too overheated to process things right. And you can tell from the way he’s listless that he’s at least approaching overheating. Getting into the car with the air-conditioning will be good for him. You make a mental note to pick him up another ice coffee.

- But meanwhile- while you’re waiting in line at a fast-food stand, Namjoon grabbing a few bags of chips off of a rack and jimin screwing around with a soda dispenser- figuring out how many different types of soda he can fit in one cup. Yoongi is being thrown into the side of a truck with a loud clang. His back hitting it and then his head jarring painfully. The sound alone sending him reeling into the dirt. But the man doesn’t let him fall. A hand savagely yanking his hair back. The unwanted contact sending shivers all up and down his body.

- “And here I thought you’d be more careful not to come so close. Did you think no one here would recognize you? We knew you where here the second you stepped out of that shitty truck.”

- Yoongi blinks, trying to keep the black spots out of his eyes. And she’s right. He did know better, the beachfront has always been their territory. Yoongi remembers the days he’d sneaked out and walked down to the beach in the middle of the night. The only time he ever felt some semblance of freedom. As long as he remained unseen and unheard she didn’t care. But today he’d been the opposite of unseen.

- He can’t respond. And Knows better than to try. His owner has never been fond of Yoongi’s voice, and she’s trained him well enough to know not to use it ever in front of her, his whole body had almost jumped out of his skin when he’d seen her, and seen you in front of her. All of the protective instincts in his body screaming at him to get you away from her to get you away from danger.

- Yoongi might be a liar, and a filthy double-crosser, worth every bit of ire and distrust from the other hybrids. He might not deserve your kindness or your care- not even a little bit and still, he’d never let anyone hurt you.

- She kicks off a crate of peaches; her black boots clicking on something metallic in the dust, cracking into one with a pop of her teeth into the tight skin. Coming close and getting in Yoongi’s face as the man holds him there for a second more, but then releases him. Both of them know they can’t rough Yoongi up like usual- any bruises would be too suspicious.

- “Did you like my little present this morning?” Yoongi flinches and she laughs. He’d suspected but hadn’t really known for sure if the message this morning was from her. But now he knows, he’s even more afraid than he was opening the door this morning. At least he’d come when called, Yoongi doesn’t want to think about what would have happened or what might have popped up on your front door had you gone somewhere else today.

- Yoongi is a good hybrid. Years of getting thrown into walls and slapped and kicked and burned by the stray end of a cigarette have trained him well, he always comes when he’s called.

- “You have until the end of the summer Yoongi- after that if you’re not back and with what I asked for, I’ll make sure that house goes up in flames.” She flicks a lighter, starting up a cigarette that makes Yoongi’s nose twinge uncomfortably. Bad memories. So many bad memories from looks like that as she puffs on her cigarette and blows the smoke in his face.

- “It’s a cute house, especially the garden. I didn’t know you had a thing for that- maybe I’ll have you grow some kale or vegan shit for me when you get back. And then I’ll really be like little miss high brow too huh? Looks like she eats healthy” Yoongi shakes and his owner laughs. So then she has been watching him. He doesn’t let himself wonder who at the farm might be there for a reason like Yoongi. What other snakes you might have in your garden.

- Yoongi can’t be there for long, can’t be absent. But he knew from the second he met his owner’s eyes over your shoulder that she would expect him to report back. That to not come when he was called would be as good as promising violent retribution, something far worse than a snake nailed to your front door.

- She leans in close to Yoongi, and Yoongi can’t resist leaning away, as she breathes the smoke in his face, his hands shaking at his sides. He watches her put out her cigarette in the peachy pink flesh of the peach wincing.

- He knows better than to talk back now or even squirm as she leans closer, barely a centimeter from his face. Even though a hook on the side of the truck is digging into the small of his back. “Remember little viper- if I see you so much as touch them- or let out even a fucking whisper- I’ll kill them in front of you then kill you myself”

- Yoongi understands- how could he not- he’s nothing more than her plaything- her spy. Yoongi wonders what she’d do if she knew he’d already broken the first rule. No touching though there had only been a few times, your hand on his arm when he was in the middle of a heat-induced meltdown, and this morning when you’d cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

- Before anything else happens, 3 other men of her’s come around the corner of the truck, two of them hooding up the third who looks close to passing out. blood dripping down the side of his shirt. Yoongi has seen enough fights to know how someone looks when they’ve lost one. What’s more surprising is the fact that they’ve lost one here- the boardwalk is supposed to be his owner's territory. To touch her operation here- that means something significant, but even more strangely, his owner and her right-hand man don’t even look surprised.

- He struggles to put the situation together, Yoongi remembers one time when they were teenagers- back when it wasn’t his owner's gang, but her father’s. How he’d gone into a rage because some rival had decided to even vacation on their beaches- nearly unloading the full clip of a gun into their group in broad daylight.

- If they’re being pushed back- even to here, then there is something wrong- a rival gang or the police- whichever party had earned his owner's aggression this time, was surely soon to fall. But a gang war isn’t something that Yoongi’s ever seen. She fusses over the man two others holding him up, and Yoongi slides away, back into the crowd of the boardwalk. Knowing this time- he won’t be missed.

- Yoongi walks back to the car, telling himself to enjoy every minute that he has left. Because once the summer heat fades. He knows it’s all going to go away. As he walks, even as he knows there’s probably someone watching him. He stops in front of the flea market. His feet unable to take him closer to you, the closer he gets- the less safe you are. and still- he wants to be close to you- for just a little longer, so that he knows what it’s like.

- To have a pack, a family, people who care about him and love him. Before he goes back to how he lived before he wants you to know that he loves you, loves Namjoon and Jiminie too. That he would stay if he could.

- He might not be able to touch any of the people he wants to touch in the way that he wants or say the words that he wants to say, but he can show you all that you mean to him. At least now- before time runs out and it’s too late.

- Maybe some acts of defiance are less about trying to live, and more about making sure you have a chance to live before his misdeeds eventually catch up with him. And if anyone is deserving of some sort of karmic judgment It’s Yoongi.

- He hopes you won't hate him when you find out- if you ever do.

- It’s worth it- it’s all worth it to see the way that Jimin’s ears perk up when Yoongi brings back the flower holder from the stand for him, that and a silk bandana for Namjoon to keep his hair back when he’s working, and the little wall trinket you were looking at. stained glass cut in the shape of a pair of cherries. (He won’t know- but later- you’ll hang it in the window of the nursery of your and Namjoon’s room)

- The puppy holds the flower holder in his lap the whole ride home. Nearly getting his chubby finger stuck in one of the test tubes at one point. That nearly makes Yoongi laugh out loud. As you wind your way back to the farm, snacking on fried dough and blooming onions making Namjoon’s breath stinky enough that you press on his chest when he leans in for a kiss and eventually relents when he lets out a heartbreaking wine.

- Yoongi doesn’t let himself dream for more of this- because however long he gets he know he won't deserve it either way- he doesn’t deserve a single act of kindness from you. Let alone the kind of care and love you’ve all shown him. He just closes his eyes, leans his cheek against the open window, and lets his soul rest. Just for a little longer. All he needs is a little longer.

- Yoongi lies to himself and tells himself that the summer will be enough.

- Later that night, You’re already underneath your covers, turning restless in your too warm sheets. Namjoon lingers in the bathroom brushing his teeth. “Did you notice something strange with Yoongi today?”

- “No- why?” you fiddle with the edge of your coverlet.

- “He seemed super tense on the way how and somehow I got it into my head that there was something more wrong with him than usual” Namjoon sets a glass of water for you on your bedside table pulls himself over the top of your bedspread. Pressing a toothpasty kiss to your mouth that makes you smile. His hand coming up to cradle your hip, thumb rubbing wide strokes over your baby bump.

- He always gets this look in his eyes. A little lost in his own love when he looks at you late at night like this. You pepper a kiss down his cheek and over his scar, making his face twitch a little-you know it tickles in the same way he knows you’re teasing him- just a little. “If you want to go check on him, I don’t mind.”

- Namjoon’s point is clear, the emphasis on check you know what he means and what he wants. The emphasis on hybrid pack dynamics, that it really wouldn’t be strange to Namjoon If you went to Yoongi’s room…and ended up spending a little time there. If anything- it probably seems weird to him if you haven’t.

- You let the moment slide, lean over to turn off the light, and kiss Namjoon a little more, his lips are hot but gentle on yours. Taking the time to kiss you without a rush for more, nipping at your neck once before he settles in- you’re getting into the stage of your pregnancy where its hard to lay on your side too much so instead- Namjoon mimics your usual position, his leg slung over your thighs, head tucked close to your shoulder.

- And he makes these cute little noises, little huffs and small growl groans that remind you of a puppy before he falls asleep. But you can’t sleep- you stare at the ceiling in your bedroom and can’t help but think about Yoongi earlier. How you thought for a second you’d seen him crying on the way home, spied in your rearview mirror, head hanging out the window and his cheeks wet. somehow your bed feels more empty than it used too. Even with you and Namjoon in it.

- after a few more minutes where you wonder if you’ll ever get to sleep, You slip out of your and Namjoon’s bed and sneak down the hallway. Your footsteps cushioned against the carpet as you head down the hall to Yoongi’s room. and you know it’s late but you can’t leave him alone- not when you could fix it and help him.

- You knock softly; thinking about all of the times in which you try to help- on your worst days- when it feels like helping others is all your good for. nothing else in you but that, nothing to appreciate or love beyond what you can do for others because you feels so broken- too broken to be loved without giving up your time like an apology. A lot of the time it feels like you have nothing but acts of service to offer. But on those days, it’s always Namjoon, Yoongi, and jimin that soothe you without even trying,

- Your lover cupping your chin in his hand and telling you that he can’t get enough of you, that he thought about you all day and couldn’t wait to just stand close to you. The quiet care he shows you, massaging the puffy ball of your ankle. The way sometimes he’ll come up behind you when you’re fiddling with your outfit in the morning, his wide hands fisting in the sides of your dress. Making a low whine and scent marking along your shoulder so that every hybrid on the farm knows you’re his.

- The way namjoon can tell just by looking at you if you need his help, and knows better, like today, when you need a little distance to get your thoughts sorted.

- Yoongi’s soft companionship the way he’ll shake his head and take the heavy things from you, the roll of his eyes doing the speaking for him, “what would Namjoon think if I let you carry this on your own” or the way that he’d sometimes tap the edge of your hat with his long fingers making it bounce, lip pulling up to show his cute little fangs.

- When jimin looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the side for him. Ready to ramble on and on about whatever new thing he’d tried today. Wanting to include you in his process as he became adjusted to the world. The way that he hangs on to every word you say, following you around like a lost puppy, but you would never mind that- how could you? When he was so smitten that it made your heart flutter to be liked with such loving intent.

- You knock on Yoongi’s door, and he answers with wet cheeks, looking startled, rubbing his cheek with the side of his hand. “Yoongi, are you alright?” he shakes his head, hovering, body swaying. You can tell from the hum that the air-conditioning is on high. Not too surprising given the heat of the day, and you know it’s easier for Yoongi to make his room cool and then work up to the kind of warmth he needs then do it the other way.

- His blinds are all drawn, no light on in his room. Thought you peeked outside and sure enough- the stars were shining bright, no moon in the sky. “Can I come in?” Yoongi looks like- fuck- this is going to hurt him, but he nods anyway.

- He scoots over in his bed and moves one of the covers down and lets you climb in on the other side of the bed, and the covers are cool and comfortable beneath your skin, the only light in the room comes from the display panel of the air-conditioning unit and the green makes Yoongi’s eyes glow yellow. “You can tell me- something’s wrong, isn’t it? if its something I can fix you’ve got to tell me- Yoongi- I-“

- Yoongi pulls himself up to hover over you on one arm, his other hand coming up to comb back your hair, you’re stunned into silence. The words leaving your mouth as you find yourself inches away from him, the cool line of his body pressed up against yours. And you think- because you’re both in pajamas and not actually touching skin to skin- you think that is the reason why it might not bother him so much.

- Yoongi is all lithe muscle and harsh edges, but he’s nothing more than gentle with his hands when he softly brushes over your cheek, his eyes molten gold as he tilts his chin up, his soft lips press against your forehead for just a second, the reverse of what you’d done for him this morning.

- Maybe you were both too worn out from the day’s events not too need each other’s company. He tilts his body to the side and leans up on his elbow to watch you. And you might expect it to feel strange- his body and it’s the absence of heat, but underneath the covers it actually feels comforting, cooling amid the summer humidity that just won’t quit.

- He leans in close to poke at your cheek with his nose, nuzzling with slow curling motions as if to tell you- go to sleep, and sleep you do, the coolness of the bed and Yoongi’s body supplying relief to your overheated muscles. Yoongi knows what you needed without you having to say it- the same way that you always knew what he needed. Yoongi stays close and curls around you tightly- his arm and his leg wrapping around you, protecting you both from something you might not see.

- Your last thought before you fall asleep is a question, is Yoongi’s strong grip on you- like he’s holding on for dear life, something to do with his snake genes? Or is there some other reason why his muscles and legs tremble when they hold you close like he’s afraid something is going to be able to separate you.

- Before you truly fall asleep, you think you hear a low voice say something, just a few words, but regardless of what Yoongi might have said- or if he spoke at all, You won’t remember it in the morning.

Kofi

BONUS: Jimin’s little flower holder!

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 4

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter devastation. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Word count- 2,211

Warnings- Smut, swearing, angst, cheating

18+ Only!!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 29th June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

>The Destructive Secret Masterlist<

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, silence so acute you could hear a pin drop. Liam waiting for an answer, Chris looking at his feet and you looking visibly anxious. Chris had drank way too much and now he was about to let all of your secrets loose. This isn't the way you want Liam to find out, surely Chris wouldn't be so cruel.

"I suppose you're not gonna tell me who it is?"

"Not just yet, see how we go." He looked at you, if he so much as even looked slightly smug you would have slapped him right across his face. Instead you could see the hurt in his eyes, tears welling in the corners. You're both faced with an impossible dilemma, Chris wants you all to himself but doesn't want to lose his brother in the process and you want it all over and done with but don't want to hurt Liam. The latter of both is inevitable but you would take all the blame just so Chris didn't have to lose his brother, given the choice you would lose them both just so that didn't happen.

"Well on that note, I need to go to bed. I've gotta be up early in the morning." You avoid Chris' gaze, you're angry with him but you don't want to cause him more pain.

"Yeah me too. I better get going. Thank you for dinner Y/N, it was lovely."

You risk a short glance at him, you're eyes softening when they meet. The moment broken when Liam speaks, reminding you where you are and who you're with right at this moment in time.

"Are you for real? You're really going to drop a bombshell like that and then leave? Fuck man." Liam runs his hand through his hair, letting air out of his cheeks exasperatedly.

"Sorry bro, I'll save the excitement for another night. I've said too much already." Chris apologises with his eyes as he passes you, his hands twitching by his side's with the need to touch you.

******************

The next morning when you wake, your heart sinks knowing all the turmoil you're going to have to go through just to make it to the hotel without being spotted. All the messing about and hiding you have to do, checking in under a false name at different times. Making sure nobody follows you to the hotel and especially no one follows Chris. Getting caught checking into the same hotel would be dreadful, it wouldn't take a genius for the press to put two and two together, they wouldn't even care if it was true or not as long as they sold copies.

"Right babe, I'm ready to go." You pull your suitcase towards the door, stopping to wrap your arms around Liam.

"Have a good time, I'll see you soon." Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting your feet from the ground in a squeezy hug. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, bye babe."

"Bye. Love you. Let me know when you get checked in." He kisses you goodbye before watching you leave.

"Will do, Love you." You say over your shoulder, climbing into your silver, Audi convertible.

This is the part you hate the most, the part that made you question whether it was all worth it. It was, of course or you wouldn't be doing it, you wouldn't put yourself through having to pretend to be somebody else and praying your not caught by anyone. It only takes one person to notice you and Chris in the same hotel and it's over. You imagine having an affair is hard work whatever your circumstances but when your boyfriend and your lover are as famous as they are it becomes impossible. It's terrifying.

You spent the car journey constantly checking your mirrors and making sure you weren't being followed. A huge sunhat and even bigger sunglasses covering your face as your heart beated faster than you thought was possible. A couple of laps around the hotel, making doubly sure you weren't being followed before you finally pulled into the carpark.

You had to constantly think, you couldn't let your guard drop for even a moment and it was exhausting. You were ready for it to be over and done with now, this just isn't fun anymore. Maybe you could run away together and start a new life somewhere else. Which one would you pick though? Who are you ready to give up? Would there even be an option to choose? Would Liam even be willing to forgive you if he knew you were sleeping with his brother? In love with his brother.

Your heart beating out of your chest, your fight or flight well and truly kicking in now as you walk up to the front desk. If there's any recognition in the receptionists eyes you're ready to turn right around and leave. The girl behind the desk, with long blonde hair has her eyes on the computer In front of her, thankfully not paying you much attention as you stand and wait for her to finish.

"Hi I'd like to book a room for two nights please." You stutter nervously, subconsciously checking over your shoulder while you spoke.

"Of course, is it just for yourself?"

"Yes please, I'm just here for a work conference. I'd like a double bed if possible though, I haven't been able to sleep in a single since I was young." You giggle nervously, embarrassed that you'd told her information she isn't even slightly interested in.

"No problem, I'll see what I have for you." Her eyes barely left her computer as she spoke, she definitely didn't recognise you. The tension in your muscles relaxed a little as your eyes scanned the lobby.

"What name is it please?" She asked, one of the moments you'd been dreading. You hate lying but luckily you'd already come up with the fake name you were using, one you'd already used many times before in the exact same situation. It never gets any easier.

"Jessica Crawley." The names tumbled from your lips, names that had absolutely no meaning to you.

"Room 101, floor 5. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No thank you, that's great." The overwhelming feeling of relief at completing step one without any problems, rushes over you. Adrenaline spiking, making your legs feel like jelly.

"You're welcome, enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions." The girl says, smiling sweetly at you before going back to her work.

The elevator seemed to take forever to make its way down to you, your feet shuffling as you watched the numbers above the door, counting down. The overwhelming need to get to privacy and away from the many prying eyes of the people in the lobby was severe. Most were business men and women, that were so consumed in themselves they weren't paying special attention to anyone around them. There were also young couples, making their way through the lobby, probably on their way for lunch but the people that worried you the most were the random loners sat in the armchairs scattered around the lobby. They'd chosen the perfect place to watch, some pretending to read newspapers while their eyes discreetly scanned over the top.

They were much more inquisitive, much like yourself they paid more attention to the people around them. People watchers you liked to call them, these are the sorts of people that make you nervous. They see everything, noticing any minor details, you'd spent a lifetime perfecting 'people watching' which is how you knew to be wary. You could pretty much judge a person's personality just by watching them for a couple of minutes. If anyone was to spot you it would be one of these people. You felt thankful you weren't Chris, there is absolutely no way he was going to make it to the elevator without being seen at least once.

*******************

Chris didn't feel quite as nervous as you, this was a every day occurance in his life, avoiding paparazzi was near impossible for him. As long as you weren't seen going in to the hotel then it wouldn't matter about him being seen. Still, he'd worn his baseball cap and sunglasses to at least try and hide his identity. He wasn't nervous about being seen but more about having to face you after his fuck up last night. Now that thought was way more intimidating to him.

Casually strolling into the hotel, he tried to ignore the whispers of the people around him. People questioning if it was really him, young girls barely out of high school giggling at the sight of him. Chris quietly prayed that he would make it up to the room without anyone asking for a photo, not that he usually minded but today all he wanted was to spend every possible minute with you as he could.

The receptionist tried to make a fuss when his identity was confirmed during check in. The pale skin of the same blonde girl who'd checked you in, had turned a rather bright shade of red when she heard Chris' sexy Australian accent. You wouldn't blame her, it still makes you swoon whenever you heard him speak.

"I'm fine honestly, I don't want any special treatment. Actually if I could get away with going completely unnoticed during my stay, I will speak to your boss myself and tell them how accomodating you'd been."

"Oh wow, really? Thank you so much Mr Hemsworth. I will make sure nobody bothers you and if you need anything at all just give me a call, I'll make sure you won't have to leave your room for anything." Chris smiled, pretending not to notice how she seemed to be flirting with him, badly. Tossing her hair over shoulder as she insinuated not so subtly for him to let her know if he wanted any 'special' treatment. Again, you don't blame the girl, infact you would've commended her confidence.

She handed over the keys to the penthouse, watching bright eyed as he walked to the elevator, pulling out his phone as he stepped straight in.

"Hi babe, I've booked the penthouse suite, meet me up there?" Smiling a tight lipped smile at the girl behind the desk, who was still watching him intently as the elevator doors closed.

"Ok, it isn't very inconspicuous staying in the penthouse is it?" You shouldn't be surprised, he does it everytime. You remember the first time you ever saw a penthouse and how amazed you were that it was actually bigger than your own home at the time. That was a memory you shared with Liam, all of your first times had been with Liam, the thought made your heart sink.

"I mean they knew who I was as soon as I walked in, I think it would look more suspicious if I didn't stay in a suite." Chris answered, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I suppose that's true, I'll be up soon." You could hear the sadness in your voice, something you had to snap out of before meeting Chris.

"Good because I can't wait to get my hands on you."

Sinking back onto the spongey mattress of your bed, tiredness washing over you already. The mental exhaustion of constantly having to play games and be on your guard at all times, catching up to you as you're finally alone.

Maybe that's what you need afterall, a chance to be alone to gather your thoughts, to workout your own needs and wants without spreading your attention between the two brothers.

You make a mental list of the pros and cons of both of them knowing deep down if Liam were the one for you, you'd have never have looked twice at Chris. They were so similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others.

Liam was the sweetest man you knew, so gentle and caring, attentive to your every whim and being so young when you first got together he was everything you were looking for.

Now being a woman that has gone through so much trauma in her life that had tainted your soul, darkened it with a lust for more.

Then Chris came along, he was still sweet and caring but less attentive to your needs unless it was in the bedroom. He was cheeky and funny, drop dead gorgeous and oozing manliness effortlessly. He was fire and passion. He was more.

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined Chris only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #smut #x reader #x you #liam hemsworth

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43sparrows · 4 years

Text

d e s e r v e d - {Five x Reader AU}

WARNINGS: drunkenness, language

Word Count: 2,416

Note: r e j e c t but from Five’s perspective! Come scream at me in my inbox

When Five comes back, there's a series of post-it notes next to the key rack written in Vanya's loose script. Call Y/N back.

The next post-it is stuck to the first. Y/N called again & asked when you'd be back. Said it's not an emergency, but she does need you? Of course Vanya was confused by that. The code shouldn't be too hard to crack, but sometimes her wellmeaning-ness gets in the way of her astuteness.

The last post-it is beside the first two: Out with Allison + Klaus at Don Pablo's. Come if you can!

It's a tempting offer after the day he's had. He loves Don Pablo's margaritas, and even if he doesn't want to put up with Klaus' nonsense or Allison's fans, he does love his siblings.

But Y/N always calls him back when he needs her to. She deserves the same.

Before he can dial her number in, the flashing red light of the answering machine catches his attention. There are six messages.

Hey, it's Y/N again. I'm so sorry for calling too much. I just...I changed my mind if you want to come over. You don't have to, but I'll be here. All night. Bye.

Hi. It's Y/N. I, um, I would love your company right now. Or like soon. Or you know, as soon as you're available. Unless you don't want--don't want to. That's cool too. Um, ok, sorry again for calling so much, bye.

In the next voicemail, he hears music in the background. Hi. I'm not trying to be needy. Everything's just shit, and you're not. So thanks for not being shit, and call me back. Or just come over. Whichever. Both. No, the second one. K, thanks, byeee.

The music is slightly louder, but her voice is even closer to the phone, almost muffled. Hi, hey, so, I just...I wish...I'm probably stupid, but I think I...yeah, no, nevermind, I'm stupid. Ok, byeeeeee.

The next voicemail starts out in the middle of her sentence. Or rather, lyric. -- thing that got me trippin' This one thing your soul made me feel it It's this one thing you did oh, oh-- Oh, shit. She giggles. It's your voicemail. Sorryyyyyy-- She cuts off then.

This song is softer, and her voice is more slurred than even the last message. What the fuck am I doing. What the fuck am I even doing? Look if you're with someone else, that's ok. It's ok. I get it. Ok? I get it. I'm sorry to keep calling. I don't know. I--I'm sorry. I hope you guys are happy together. You deserve to be happy. I just--fuck. There's a pause before she hangs up, and in the pause he catches the lyric: We'll be playmates and lovers, and share our secret worlds.

Margaritas will have to wait.

He's in her living room in the next second, and he's never seen her like this. The voicemails were one thing--the range of emotions and descent into intoxication--but she's thrown a one person party, and it's one of the most goddamn pathetic things he's ever seen. He hates it.

"Y/N?" he asks, and she falls off the fucking couch in her effort to turn around.

"Five?" she asks, as if surprised to see him there. As if she hadn't called him eight times just to make sure he came. He nods. Her mood seems to have changed from the last voicemail at least, but this still seems all wrong. As wrong as it felt earlier to see her come to do the door with smudged mascara and a tight voice.

"What are you doing?"

She doesn't respond right away, her face still screwed up in confusion.

"Dancing. What are you doing?" She stands then, wobbly on her legs. She's never been the most graceful person, but if Five had to guess, he'd blame this on the assortment of empty bottles on her coffee table. There's too many of them and they're way too big. He can't tell if he should be impressed or concerned, so he settles on an emotion somewhere between the two.

"You called me," he reminds, picking up a bottle of Tennessee honey whiskey. One of the two bottles that still has any liquor left in it. He wonders if he should drink this now or find a way to hide it from her. "Eight times. Did you drink all of these?"

She scoffs, but seeing as she's drunker than he's ever seen her, he's not sure he deserves the derision. Scratch that, he's certain he doesn't deserve the derision. "No, they were mostly empty."

This makes him feel a bit better, but he's not completely sure he believes her. Instead, he does what he does best and runs some quick calculations in his head. Either she started before he stopped by earlier or in the past six hours she's done nothing but sit and drink. An uncomfortable feeling springs up in his chest at the thought of her turning him away so she can drink alone on her couch. He should have pushed her earlier on the lie. This isn't about work. She hates her job, he knows that, but not this much. There's something more.

"Are you going to tell me what's really going on now?" Five asks, facing her. She's silent for a moment before nodding. He thinks that she must be worse off than he thought when she begins searching around the newspapers on the floor, throwing page after page back down before finally thrusting a paper in his hands. It's an engagement announcement, which makes no sense until he begins to read and a lightbulb comes on when he reaches the names. "Your ex?"

She nods, bouncing with anticipation or maybe to the music. It's hard to tell. "He's getting married," she sings at him, and he winces at the offkey tune. His eyes fall back on the picture, and he takes in the bleached white smile, the girl's hand on the ex's chest flashing a ring too big and flashy to say anything but insecure.

"Statistically, it'll only last eight years," Five says, his eyes returning to Y/N. She's attempting to lip sync with the song that's playing but is about two seconds behind the actual verse. There's an all too familiar twinge of anger in his chest. She's a complete mess over another man.

Objectively this should only be a problem because he has enough messes to deal with between his siblings--he doesn't need her on the list too. But he'd be lying if that was the only reason he was angry. He'd be lying if that was a reason he was angry at all. She shouldn't be so upset by this. People get engaged. This guy dumped her. He didn't deserve this. It was over between them.

He wonders if she held out hope of going back to him. He wonders if he's been nothing more than a distraction for her.

He wonders why that idea bothers him.

"You're still...in love with him?" he guesses, and a chorus of no's fall from her lips. The amount of protest is suspicious, but there's fire in her eyes as she moves towards him and grabs his arm. She stops then, squeezing his tricep, and he wonders if she's about to admit something. He doesn't know what he'll do if she does.

"Y/N," he prompts, and she looks up at him with big eyes. Fuck.

"I just wish I had something to shove in his face," she says. Fuck.

"Something to show him how wrong he was about me. You know?" Fuck.

"I'm fucking future material," she asserts, shaking her hands in his face. And then she retreats with a sigh, grabbing a hold of the only other bottle with liquid in it. "But it looks like he was right. The fucker was right. I'm a reject."

She thinks she's a reject.

She thinks she deserves this.

He snatches the bottle away from her before she even has the chance to take a sip.

"Hey," she shouts, grabbing at him, and Five turns away from her to finish it off before she can get to it. She doesn't need any more alcohol, and he doesn't need any more truth. "Asshole," she grumbles. He's been on the receiving end of that word his entire life, but this is the first time he actually feels like one.

"You didn't need it," he tells her, placing the bottle back on the table before turning his back to her. He should get out of here. He should tell her to take a shower, drink some water, and go to bed. But instead, he's walking to her bedroom door. Because he can't leave. When he calls, she comes. Every time. She doesn't ask questions, doesn't push. She's steady. A constant. She deserves the same. She deserves more than this pathetic pity party.

"Are you coming or not?" he asks her, and then she's moving towards him with alarming speed considering her present state, but not quite enough to make it into the bedroom at the same time as him. Instead, he finds himself alone for the moment, looking around the room he's so familiar with. The work clothes thrown at the closet door, the scattering of papers and chargers and books and pens on her desk. The seven goddamn candles, all at various heights and always lit whenever she's home. It's a fire hazard, but she refuses to let go of the habit. None of them are lit now, though.

There's a large thudding sound outside the door, and he already knows what he'll find. Sure enough, she's on the floor, pants tangled in her legs, flailing with all of the dignity of Klaus. He sighs, walking back over to her, slightly relieved when she frees herself before he has to deal with being kicked for trying to help her.

Years of rescuing hostages and dragging around his brothers makes it easy for him to sling her over his shoulders. Thankfully she's allowing herself to be carried and not scared half of her mind which makes the journey significantly easier from the last time he had to do this to someone.

It's a bit of a process to fling back the covers so he can put her in bed. It ends with her more falling onto the mattress as opposed to being placed down, but he's thrown her on a bed enough times that she doesn't seem to mind the slight bounce as she hits the mattress.

As she settles herself in, he starts cramming all of the stupid pillows he's normally tossing onto the floor behind her back so that she doesn't die. He feels a bit like Vanya, which has that bittersweet feeling blooming in his chest once more.

He's about to tuck the edge of the blanket under the mattress when she sits up slightly and pulls him in, bringing his lips to hers. She tastes like whiskey, but sweeter. There's no burn as her lips move against his with a surprising amount of dexterity. For a fleeting second, Five wonders if he can get secondhand tipsy from her kiss because it must be the alcohol that's causing the spinning feeling of intoxication in his head.

He knows that's not it though. He knows he should pull away. There's a reason he stopped kissing her after their third time together. Why he only lets himself get tastes of her skin. But her tongue is slipping into his mouth, and she's drawing him in, pulling him closer to her. His whole body is practically buzzing to follow her lead, and it takes every inch of his willpower to pull himself away from her and back out of her grasp.

Her brow furrows in confusion as she drops back into the bed, her head hitting the pillow. "Youdon'wan'meei'er," she mumbles, and it's hardly more than sounds, but he understands.

"No. Not tonight," he says as he pushes the comforter between her mattress and boxspring. She sucks her teeth, turning away from him as he stands. Her eyes are closed, and there's still the small crease between her eyes. He shoves his hands in his pockets but keeps his eyes glued on her, and he can't bring himself to move until he sees the comforter rise and fall with her breath.

It would be irresponsible to leave her alone like this. He should stay at least until her roommate gets home. She deserves that much.

Outside of the room, music is still blaring, so he walks out to turn it off. It takes a few minutes of searching to find her phone buried in the cushions so he can pause the playlist. When he comes back in, she curled up on her side, facing the edge of the bed. It makes him feel a bit better.

Five wanders over to her bookshelf, scanning the shelves before plucking out One Hundred Years of Solitude and then settles down on the other side of her pillow wall and cracks open the book.

Her roommate still isn't back by 5 am, and Five is over halfway through the novel and almost an entire carafe of coffee down. He shuts the book slowly, turning to look at her. She's hardly moved since he put her in bed aside from the steady rise and fall of her breathing. If anything was going to happen, it probably already would have.

Quietly, he stands up from the bed, returning the book to its space on the shelf. He exits the room into the still apartment, shutting off the lights as he goes. When he enters the kitchen, his eyes land on the mostly empty coffee pot.

He should clean that.

Instead, he dumps it out and sets up a new pot, making a calculated guess on when she will wake up. The aspirin is conveniently located next to the bags of coffee, and he takes that down as well, along with a clearly handmade mug that screams Y/N.

He glances around the kitchen one last time before switching off the light and heading out to find the living room lightswitch. It's as he passes the coffee table that he pauses, his eyes falling on the page of the newspaper she threw at him hours ago. He takes it up, flicks off the light, and goes home.

#five hargreeves #number five #number 5 #five hargreeves smut #number five smut #number 5 smut #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #number 5 x reader #tua fic #number 5 fic #number five fic #five hargreeves fic

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Note

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right?

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant.

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it.

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda.

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.”

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him.

That would be heaven.

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #anon chatter :)#x reader #oh to have a polite nagito ghost you can pull out chairs for and look up his tragic backstory

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silverstarsheep · 4 years

Text

Oh man, it’s a fic for the “Coffee Shop AU,” which is lead by @doodledrawsthings.

I started this really early on and wrestled with it a lot, so things changed and shifted a bit since I started writing it. Looking at the new stuff vs. old, I’m surprised what details I got accurate, and not at all surprised at what I got wrong. Quite a lot of it is super super SUPER inaccurate, sorry.

This is more or less my take on Luka’s transformation, so... Take it for what you will, haha.

I also finished it a while back, but never had the guts to actually post it for one reason or another--I may as well post it anyway, since it’s gotten this far.

Word count: 6,749

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

Luka nearly flew out of the restaurant and into the cooler-than-normal evening air, stumbling down a few of the steps leading to the door. The sound of rain could be heard all around him--it hadn’t let up since he arrived. Standing underneath the awning with his umbrella cradled in the crook of his right arm, he stuffed both hands into his pockets, puffing out a frustrated sigh. His face was burning hot, and his chest was tight with indignation.

He should have known that a call to “make amends” from Vanessa was going to be a big, fat lie. Luka’s brow creased, and he stared at the damp pavement beneath the bottom step, silently wondering why he had ever thought that such would have been the case. During the legal battles of divorce and custody, that vile woman more than demonstrated her ice-cold and vitriolic feelings towards him.

Maybe, deep down, he still felt something for her... And he did truly want to make amends. Too bad the same wasn’t true for Vanessa.

Popping his umbrella open, he finally trotted down the rest of the stairs and to the sidewalk. It was about time that he went home, but along the way he needed to pick up little Harriet from her friend’s house. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind walking in the rain, but somehow he doubted she would.

As he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but shiver. Frown creasing his features further, he thought to himself, “Wasn’t it supposed to be in the 70′s tonight?” If only he had worn a thicker sweater... If it got any colder, he would have been able to see his breath!

To make matters worse, in the corner of his eye Luka could make out little white dots bouncing around on the ground. Pace slowing a bit, it wasn’t long before he was hearing heavier objects hitting his umbrella. Hail?! For pity’s sake, can’t he catch a break for just a second? Holding the umbrella tight, he started to run down the sidewalk, having to skid to a halt when he realized that he had nearly overshot his friend’s house.

Bounding up the porch, he knocked on the door, drumming his fingers against the umbrella’s handle. The door opened, however instead of being met with her caregiver, he was instead met with the very small, curly-haired Bonnie. She stared up at him with her big, purple eyes for a moment, then gave him a toothy grin.

“Hi!” she chirped. She looked over her shoulder, “Ms. Tina! Mr. Luka is here!”

“Tell him to come in, please!” he could hear a woman’s voice call from inside. Tina must have been making dinner.

The smell of steamed vegetables hit his senses in just the right way, causing his stomach to growl a little. However as he took in a deep breath, Luka’s throat felt rather sore. Not wanting to assume the worst, he simply brushed it off as him having raised his voice a bit too much when he spoke with Vanessa. The conversation did get quite heated, after all--but with Vanessa, one could say that she was always chilling.

Bonnie motioned for him to come inside as she skipped into the living room herself. The home was comfortably warm, a welcome change from the cold, wet outside. She flopped back onto the floor right next to Harriet, who was lying on her stomach and holding a purple crayon in a crab-like vice grip. She looked up and smiled.

“Oh, hi, dad!” she kicked her legs up into the air and drew both arms to her chest, “Did it go okay with mom...?”

“Hey, kiddo.” Luka replied with a sigh. He didn’t reply at first, trying to think over his response. Standing in the door frame he shook his folded umbrella off over the porch, then placed it inside beside the door. He could feel Harriet’s eyes piercing into him.

“Sorry to say, it didn’t go so well,” he finally stated, his shoulders slumping significantly. His daughter was young, but he knew she was smart. There was no sense hiding it, but the look of disappointment on her face made him feel regret tweak at his heart.

Bonnie spoke up, “She didn’t use any of her,” the girl wiggled her fingers in a “mysterious” fashion, “Eeevil magic on you, did she?”

Blinking, Luka couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, no... She didn’t!” he grinned, “But if she did,” he grabbed his umbrella and brandished it like a sword, droplets of water scattering about, “I would’ve fought her off!”

When the two girls giggled at his display, Luka relaxed a bit. For Harriet, laughter was a powerful tool in these harsh times. First and foremost, making her happy and keeping her healthy was his biggest goal.

Just as he set the umbrella back down, Bonnie’s caregiver, Tina, stepped into the living room. She gave Luka a warm smile, “Hey! It sure sounds like it’s coming down out there, did you manage to stay dry?”

“I’m mostly dry, but it started hailing on the way here!”

Tina blinked, her dark brown eyes wide, “Hail?” she asked in a doubtful tone, “This time of year?” she made way towards the still open door and peered through it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “Wow! Isn’t that something...” she squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, “Well, I can’t let you walk home in that...”

“It surprised me, too,” Luka huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Would it be too much to wait it out here?”

“Not a problem at all!” she flashed Luka a bright smile, “I can add some more to the dinner if you’d like to stay! Once Honey gets here, we can have a nice, big meal!”

Closing the door, Luka shot a glance to his daughter, “What do you think?” he asked, having to clear his throat, “Wanna eat dinner here?” his throat was starting to feel worse. Was he suddenly coming down with a cold, or something?

The girl threw both arms into the air, nearly tossing her crayon in the process, “Yeah!! Ms. Tina’s food is the best!”

Tina laughed in a merry way, then started for the kitchen once more. She muttered quietly to herself as she thought about how many more vegetables to steam, how many patties to fry... However she stopped in her tracks when Luka gently flagged her down.

“Need any help?” he asked. There was a sudden weight on his shoulders, as if someone had put a thick blanket over him. Despite this, he didn’t want to impose on such a good friend, especially after she had so kindly watched his daughter!

The woman smiled brightly and gave a wave of her hand, “Oh no! It’s a real simple meal tonight, but it’ll be delicious all the same,” she motioned to the couch, “Why don’t you watch the girls? That’d be a mighty help.”

“S-sure,” he replied, clearing his throat again, “But can I,” he cleared his throat again, this time ending with a small coughing fit, “Mmh, can I get a glass of water?”

Concern creasing her brow, Tina replied, “Well sure... Are you alright?”

With slow and careful movements, Luka took a seat, “Hm... All of the sudden, I’m not...” he rubbed at his face, it was burning hot, “I’m not feeling so great...”

“Dad, your face is all red!” Harriet remarked in shock.

“Goodness, she’s right!” Tina leaned over him, gently placing her hands on his arm and back, “Maybe you should go home and rest up!”

Brow creasing, Luka rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm. He took a moment to answer, but eventually nodded. Going home would be best... If he was getting sick, he didn’t want to risk making anyone else ill.

“Okay, Bonnie,” Tina said with a clap of her hands, “Get your shoes on.” when Bonnie rushed to her room to grab a pair of socks, Tina turned back to Luka, “Don’t you worry, I’ll drive you over. It’s not far, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk there, especially in hail.”

Luka merely nodded in agreement, however he looked to Harriet, “Hey, kiddo... You wanna spend the night here...?”

She shook her head briskly, her ponytail slapping the side of her face, “No! I need to make sure you’re okay, dad!” she said firmly. She went to the door to grab her shoes. Well, looks like that was settled...

Once Bonnie and Harriet had gotten their shoes on, the four of them piled into Tina’s mini van, and were off.

Trying to keep himself awake, Luka attempted to make small talk, “So... How’s it been fostering Bonnie?” he asked.

Tina smiled, “It’s been going wonderfully, but...” she sighed as they reached a stop sign, “We’re nearing the end of the 13 month care...”

Luka gripped his seat belt with both hands, “Have you and Honey... Considered adopting her?” he asked in a hopeful tone

Smile faltering, Tina seemed to hesitate before easing on the brakes, “Yes, but... Getting the paperwork cleared has been a struggle. Honey and I haven’t had any luck...”

“Ah, sorry... Maybe I can help you clear things up a bit?” Luka offered. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“I’d appreciate that, and I’m sure Bonnie would, too!” Tina chimed with a toothy grin, “You need to put all that law studying to good use, huh?”

With the vehicle thoroughly pelted with hail, and a couple blocks later, they pulled into Luka’s drive. The father-daughter pair said their goodbyes and quickly retreated inside, however the hail was finally starting to subside. Now that they were home, it was time to get Harriet some supper.

Frankly, he wasn’t feeling very hungry himself, but one way or another he had to make sure that his daughter ate. He shambled into the kitchen and pried open the fridge--the seal was oddly tighter than usual--where he produced a frozen kid’s meal. Harriet stood in the door frame, watching him with worry in her eyes. She wrung her little hands nervously.

“Dad, I can make it myself!” she urged. She knew how to use the microwave...! It was just a little hard to know how many zeros to put on it when cooking something, and she often forgot to stir it halfway through... But she didn’t mind eating it a little cold! Honest!

Luka pulled a knife from the drawer and started poking holes into the film. He glanced over his shoulder with a weak smile, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” he said with a low voice. Using his head, he motioned for her to go to the bathroom, “Why don’t you kick off your shoes and wash your hands?”

Hesitating, Harriet bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to leave her dad alone... But if she was quick about it, then it wouldn’t be a problem! Maybe she could even grab her stool from the bathroom so she could reach the microwave buttons, and kitchen sink. Then she could make her dad a meal, too! The girl rushed deeper into the house without another word.

In the bathroom, Harriet made quick work of washing her hands, knocking over the soap bottle in the process of dispensing some of the foam onto her hands. She’d pick it up later! As she rushed to rinse her hands, she noticed her dear owl plush, Professor Popcorn, sitting by the sink. She had to rinse off his dear little beak this morning, and she must have left him there when she heard she was going to visit Bonnie.

Wringing her hands dry on a towel, she picked him up carefully, “Professor!” she cried, “Dad’s feeling sick, what do we do?”

She tried to imitate the voice her father would use when speaking for the owl by making her voice sound deeper, “Hm, I say that a hot bowl of soup will fix him right up!” she waved the plush around gently to make it look like he was talking.

“You’re right, Professor Popcorn!” Harriet confirmed with a nod, “Dad loves chicken soup, and we got a can of it! I can heat it up in the microwave!”

“I’ll help you read the instructions!” she had the professor conclude, manipulating his wing to adjust his glasses.

Meanwhile, Luka’s time was starting to get harder. His vision was getting hazy, his head was spinning, and his entire body felt sore. Dark splotches obscured his vision, and it almost looked as though his own arms were starting to turn dark.

Rubbing at his forehead with his knuckles, there was a loud clatter as the knife tumbled out of his hands and fell to the floor. Thankfully it didn’t land anywhere near his foot, however it was curious; he had a tight grip on that between his finger and thumb.

Pain snaked its way through his body as he leaned over to pick it up, causing him to grit his teeth and close his eyes tightly. He froze in place, one hand pressed against the counter top as one reached for the ground. Sweat began to pour from his brow in droves, drip, drip dripping onto his arm and the floor. At that point he had dared to open his eyes, and his stomach did a back-flip when he saw the state of his hand.

It... Wasn’t his hand anymore, or at least, it didn’t look like his hand. It had been replaced with a paw-like two-fingered hand that was a deep shade of purple. Said purple was slithering up his arm with snake-like tendrils. Losing his grip on the counter, Luka only managed to gasp as he fell roughly onto his knees. He looked to his right hand, which was much the same--thumbless and purple. No wonder he had dropped the knife! The purple substance had reached well past his elbow there.

The lights above flickered as fear struck his heart. With clumsy movements he tried to manipulate his new “hands” to try and scrape and push the purple stuff off of him, but all that succeeded in was sending droplets of purple onto the tiled floor. His arms remained unchanged, and the color only seemed to pick up the pace as it soon reached his shoulder and crept up his neck.

Bowling over as pain overtook him, Luka wrapped both arms around his stomach and pressed his forehead against the now-damp floor. His jaw was locked open, his eyes were as wide as saucers, and his vision was filled with a golden light as tears streamed from them.

Fabric ripped and shredded as his form shifted and grew. The lights buzzed as they flickered wildly. A mane sprouted from his neck, ripping and tearing his shirt further. It didn’t take long for his entire body to be shrouded in the purple tone. Finally, when his legs began to twist together, Luka let out a scream.

The kitchen lights burst. The house was shrouded in darkness.

When the lights began to flicker, Harriet clutched Professor Popcorn close to her chest, gasping in fear. She hated it when the power went out! She closed her eyes as the lights buzzed.

“D-dad?!” she cried. That was when she heard his scream, and her heart fluttered. She yelped when the lights went out, and without thinking about it she jumped from her stool and rushed into the hallway. However her pace slowed, her hand gently guiding her along the hall when she heard an inhuman panting from in the kitchen.

It sounded like there was some kind of monster in there... But monsters weren’t real, right? Dad always told her that she had nothing to be afraid of under her bed or in her closet... So the only thing that should be in the kitchen was her dad....

Right?

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and every fiber in her body was telling her to run away, to hide under her bed until the power came on, or her dad coaxed her out... But despite her wanting to scream at her legs to stop, they carried her all the way to the kitchen door.

The house was dark, but there was just enough light for Harriet to see. In the kitchen, however, it was as if something had absorbed all of the light. It was pitch black, and she couldn’t make anything out--even the window had turned black.

Harriet fought back her tears. She was so frightened that she could barely speak, but she just had to make sure her father was ok. She finally managed to speak up again with a squeak, “Dad...?”

Something in the darkness moved. She could hear it shuffling about. Slithering around like a giant snake. Her grip around her plush tightened, and her heart nearly sprung into her mouth. A set of bright, golden eyes appeared in the darkness, illuminating a bit of the kitchen with yellow light. She could just make out the shape of the eye’s owner--big and purple, with a scruffy-looking mane. It had a long, long body, and two arms that propped it up.

Around it were scraps of clothes and little puddles of a dark liquid. In the dim light she couldn’t tell what color those were, but her imagination quickly filled in the blanks--blood.

It was blood. It was her father’s blood. Whatever monster this was had ripped her dad to ribbons and ate him, leaving nothing but his shredded clothing behind.

Harriet’s mouth dropped open, but nothing escaped her throat but air. Tears were streaming from her eyes. The monster opened its own mouth, revealing its wicked, sharp fangs. More golden light spilled out into the kitchen from the beast’s maw. Its breathing was raspy. It shuffled about and moved its mouth as if trying to speak.

“Ha... Harri....” it croaked. It almost sounded like her father. Chills washed through the girl’s tiny body, and her hairs stood on end, “Ha.. rriet...” oh peck, it knew her name!

It reached out to her with inhuman fingers. Frozen in place, Harriet hadn’t a single clue what to do. Her legs continued to refuse to listen to her--now that she wanted to move, they were suddenly cemented to the carpet. She whimpered pathetically.

Hot fingers brushed against her cheek, the tips of claws gently caressing her face. Harriet inhaled. Then she shrieked. As loud as she could she screamed bloody murder, and the monster shrank back in shock. Her legs finally listened to her, and she bolted for the door, which she flung open and didn’t think to close behind her.

“W... Wai... Wait!!” the monster called. But it fell on deaf ears.

Not only did Luka’s body ache, but his heart did, too. He never wanted to frighten his daughter, he never wanted to make her feel unsafe or in danger. But now, it almost seemed as though he had no choice. Whatever form he had taken on mortified the poor child, and now she was running into the late evening streets, completely unprotected.

He had to go after her. He had to make sure she was safe, and he had to let her know that her dad was still here, despite not looking the same anymore. He attempted to push himself upright, however he quickly realized that he no longer had legs. When they had twisted together in such a painful manner, they had fused together to make one long tail. There was no way he could chase after her like this!

He’d just have to drag himself, then. With his arms he began to haul himself past the tile, over the carpet, and through the door. As he lowered himself off of the porch, he realized that his body was remarkably light. He had no issue dragging himself across the ground, and now that he was on the stairs, he felt as though he were...

Floating?! He could float? There wasn’t any time to question it... He’d just have to take it as a blessing in disguise and hope that he could use it to his advantage. He pushed himself off of the ground, and much to his surprise, he remained in the air. Twisting his body this way and that like a snake, he quickly found that this mode of transportation was much faster than crawling around like a newborn. As he got the hang of it, he could pick up the pace.

Man, he hoped no one would see him like this...

Rounding the corner, Luka looked this way and that until he caught a glimpse of Harriet, who was bolting down the sidewalk towards the park. He gasped, “Harriet!” his voice boomed. It echoed and carried throughout the subdivision, causing a few dogs to start barking in shock. Even Harriet was surprised, and she tripped over her own feet and smacked into the pavement.

Luka clapped a hand over his mouth. Goodness, did his voice carry! He was sure to be seen now. Before he could catch up to her, his daughter had picked herself up and was running with new strength across the road to the park. Her beloved owl doll lay limp on the cracked pavement.

“W-wait, please, wait!” Luka called, pathetically trying to moderate his voice, “Hatty, please!” he hoped that the fond nickname would cause her to pause, but she kept on running. If he could have seen her face, he would have noted that her eyes were screwed shut. Thank goodness no cars were coming...

Making haste to pick up the doll, Luka was hot on Harriet’s tail. He could hear a few people poking out of their houses nearby, which only made him speed up. He quickly hopped over the brick wall and started his search for Harriet, looking in, around and under anything that she could have been inside of.

Finally, he found her huddled in the corner of one wall, concealed by a bush coated in flowers. She was shaking like a leaf and trying her hardest to hold back terrified sobs. Coiling himself inside the bush, he hoped that it would be enough to hide himself as he tried to console his daughter.

“Harriet?” he cooed. His voice was still too loud, even as he tried to whisper. It didn’t sound right, “Harriet, it’s me--it’s...”

She pushed herself further into the corner, turning her head towards the wall. She sobbed quietly, and Luka’s lower lip trembled.

“Sweetheart, please--please don’t be...”

This time Harriet sobbed louder, hiccuping into her knees. Luka shrank back a little looking at his empty hand. Could he really console her like this? When he looked and sounded like a monster? He then looked to the plush he held in his right hand. Professor Popcorn... Maybe this could help.

Holding the owl out, Luka tried to hide his face behind the plush as he put on the special voice he always used for the dear old professor, “H-hey there, kiddo! It’s me, Professor Popcorn!” the owl waved his little wing, and Harriet lifted her head. Luka dared to crack a weak smile, “I know things are really scary right now... But I just want ya to know that everything’s gonna be O-KAY!”

Harriet turned, staring intently at the doll. The way he moved, the way he spoke... It was exactly like how her dad would talk when they played together. Sure, his voice sounded a little... Scary, but the tone, the inflections... They were all the same.

“And that I love you...” Luka’s voice started to seep into Professor Popcorn’s, “Very, very much...”

Harriet dared to look up. Through the branches and leaves she could make out the monster’s face, his eyes glowing faintly. As he took on a gentle expression and leaned forward, she could almost see her father’s face in its features...

“... Y-you... Dropped him while you were running...” Luka continued, “I know how much you hate it when his beak gets dirty.”

Tears were spilling from her eyes again, and she shuffled about anxiously. Was it? Could it be?! Her eyes darted up and down his body, doubts still sprouting in her mind. But all the same, she wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true, because it was an awful lot better than her dad being gone.

“Da... aad??” she hiccuped. Luka smiled weakly and nodded. With a loud sob she jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his scruffy-looking purple mane, which was surprisingly soft. She buried her nose into it, drinking in his smell. He looked different, he sounded different, but now she knew, this was her dad.

Wrapping his hands around her tiny frame, he gently rubbed the back of her head, whispering into her ear, “Shhh... It’s okay, it’s okay...” he took in a shaky breath, “I’m still here, dad’s still here...”

Harriet continued to sob. She must have been so frightened. Guilt stung at his chest, knowing that he was the cause of her terror... However he nearly jumped when she started to spurt out apologies. He backed away, his brow creased.

“What are you apologizing for?”

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Harriet hiccuped again and sniffled, “I... I thought you were a m-monster,” she replied, “An... And you ate my dad... I ha-hated you for a little bit...”

Carefully cradling her shoulders in his hands, Luka shook his head, “No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, Hatty. I... I’d be scared, too.” with one finger he wiped away a tear, “But you know, you’re very brave,” he added, “You looked me in the face now, and realized I wasn’t a monster.”

A little smile appeared on Harriet’s lips as she continued to sniffle, “E-even if you look like a monster,” she whispered, “I... I still love you, dad.”

Scooping up into his arms, Luka gave his daughter a tight squeeze. There was some relief that washed over him, knowing that his daughter still loved him despite all of this, however worry had started to snake its way into his mind. How was he going to care for her when he looked like this? He hadn’t even seen his own reflection yet, but considering how Harriet reacted, he wouldn’t be able to even face his best of friends...

Suddenly, there was a jab at his lower end, as if someone had prodded him with a stick. Crap, he had been seen! Tensing up, the length of his body coiled tighter as he held Harriet closer to his chest, protecting her from sight and harm with his torso. He must not have concealed himself enough. Curse this snake-like body!

“A-alright!” a man’s voice demanded, “Come out, y-you... Beast!”

Luka’s body went cold. What was he to do now?! Fear had pooled in Harriet’s eyes once again, and she clung to his mane as tightly as she could. He could feel her little body trembling.

“Come out or I’ll shoot!”

He realized he didn’t have a choice. He popped out from the bush, scattering leaves and flower petals everywhere. A group of ten or eleven adults had gathered, a few of them with children who were cowering behind their legs and clinging to their pant legs. The group gasped audibly, backing away as they erupted into distress.

“Oh gosh, it’s got a kid!” one shrieked. This caused a few screams within the group, and Harriet to try and hide.

“SOMEBODY CALL THE POLICE!”

“No, get animal control!”

“Roger, just SHOOT the thing, already!!”

The man in front, who was holding a hunter’s gun, was quite literally shaking in his boots. He aimed his weapon, but his moment of hesitation gave Luka enough time to react. He wanted a distraction, a diversion of some kind, and when he screwed his eyes shut he somehow willed it to be. The area was suddenly plunged into darkness as if the sun had been blotted out. Both his daughter and the group screamed, but it was more than enough of a distraction as he leaped over the brick wall and flew off in search of a proper hiding spot.

The two emerged from the darkness as if it were a bubble. Blinking rapidly, Harriet peered over her father’s shoulder, finding it curious that the darkness was in such a concentrated area.

“D-did you do that?” she squeaked.

Glancing over his shoulder, Luka was equally surprised at what he had done. Frankly, he didn’t want to even think about it, “I-I guess so...” he replied. He dreaded the idea that powers came with this monstrous form, but as he lifted them above the treetops in hopes that they’d look like a bird or lost kite, he realized that his say didn’t matter.

Harriet continued to grip his mane for security, her eyes drifting to the land below, “Uh... We’re getting kinda high...”

“Sorry, I don’t want them to catch us,” he glanced at his daughter, “Is it too high?” he tightened his arms around her.

“N-no... I kinda like it.” she admitted. She fell silent for a few moments more, watching the city go by beneath them. She eventually asked, “Where are we going?”

Luka bit his lower lip, “Not sure... Somewhere to hide until the neighborhood calms down.”

“Um... Why not that old movie theater they closed down?” she suggested, “That should be big enough.”

“That sounds good.” Luka whispered in reply. It’d have to do for now, seeing he could sneak in through one of the doors. Or at the very least, they alleyway would suffice as a hiding place.

Locating the old movie theater, Luka had to squeeeeeze his way into the alleyway, between the brick walls. Was it just him, or had he gotten larger? He felt so big and obvious already! There was no way he’d be able to fit inside the theater like this, so he just hoped no one would be coming into the alleyway, especially this late.

He lowered Harriet to the ground, “We’ll stay here for a while...” he whispered.

“Dad, we’ve gotta get some help!” Harriet cried, however she tried keeping her voice down, “We need to find someone who can turn you back to normal!”

Luka’s tail twisted itself into knots, and his expression turned dour, “I don’t know anyone that can fix this,” he sighed, looking at his hands, “And going out now, with everyone in a tizzy about a monster... That’d be asking for trouble.”

“What about Ms. Tina and Honey?” Harriet persisted, “They might be able to help! They’ve got a real big basement you can hide in!” she threw her arms in the air to demonstrate.

“Harriet...” he placed a paw on the top of her head, “... No, I’m sorry. I need to lay low for a while. At least let things calm down. It’s hard telling if anyone would believe me.”

“Bonnie would...” she pouted in reply.

Heaving a sigh Luka paused to think, placing his free hand to where his chin would have normally been. If he was going to be laying low for a time, he couldn’t keep Harriet with him, now could he?

If anyone found out that he was a monster, there would be no chance of him being able to keep Harriet’s custody. After such a long and difficult battle, that made his stomach churn. The idea of Harriet falling into foster care, or even worse, falling into the custody of Vanessa, made his stomach do back flips. What was the best option here? His expression grew grim, a frown etching itself deeper and deeper into his dark features.

“You okay, dad?”

“Hey,” he spoke up, “Why don’t I drop you off at Tina’s house? She and Honey can take care of you for a while.” he paused, “Until I can get this all sorted.”

“What?!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening, “No! No way!” she pushed her father’s paw off her head and pressed her hands against his chest, “I’m staying with you!”

“Harriet--”

“I don’t want to leave you!” her fingers wrapped around his fur, “And, and--you’d be lonely without me!” tears welled in her big blue eyes again, “You need someone to scout for you, to see if there are people around! What if something happened, and I never saw you again?!” the tears spilled over her cheeks and down her chin.

“Hey, hey...” Luka cooed, placing his all-too-massive paws on her shoulders, “Okay... Okay, you can stay with me...” he hoped that he wouldn’t regret that decision.

Smiling, Harriet wiped her tears away, “Mean it?”

“Yeah.” Luka nodded, “I mean it.”

Lying on the ground, Luka allowed Harriet to climb into his crossed arms. They remained silent for a time as he waited for enough time to pass. He wondered if anyone would be checking out their house. He certainly hoped not, but he could imagine that most of his neighbors would recognize Harriet as the “hat kid from down the street” without much problem. He sighed.

Harriet’s stomach growled, “Dad,” she gently tugged at a tuft of fur, “I’m hungry.”

Lifting his head, Luka frowned. Shoot, he didn’t finish making her that frozen meal, did he? And he didn’t have his wallet, either, “Ah, sorry kiddo... You’ll have to wait a couple more minutes before we can try to go home.”

“Hm...” her little face scrunched up in thought, “Oh, I know! There’s a restaurant nearby, I think! I can dig out some food from the trash!” before her father could object, she jumped out of his arms and ran off.

With a quick motion, Luka grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her in the air, “Oooh, no you don’t, kiddo!” she squirmed a little but quickly gave up, “I’m not letting you get a stomach bug, or eat a rat or something.” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Folding her arms over her chest, Harriet pouted, “Aw... What if I wanted to eat a rat?”

Lifting himself into the air, he plopped her back into his arms, “Well, you’re not gonna.” he glanced to the sky, which had gone completely dark, “It ought to be late enough for everyone to go back home...” . At least he’d be able to hide fairly well in the dark of the night.

There were a number of police cars around the neighborhood. Luka’s body had gone cold again, not wanting to think about what would happen if one of them spotted him. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, and then slid across the subdivision, keeping low to the ground and hiding in any shadows he could find. He crawled over fences, through backyards, and around houses until they finally reached their destination.

Their house was still pitch dark. A few police cars had just pulled away from the front--had they investigated the home? Luka chewed on his cheek, hoping that they had gotten everything they needed by now and were all gone.

“Dad,” Harriet whispered, “There are people in the front, how will we get in?”

Eyes drifting along the back wall, he decided that they’d just have to break in. How odd was that? Breaking into your own house... Well, it had to be done. Hovering to the windows, he attempted to peer inside of one, however his glowing eyes were all that reflected back at him. He scoffed in disgust.

“You ok?” Harriet asked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” he asked. When she nodded, he held her up to the window, “Take a look inside, and let me know if you see anyone.”

Cupping her hands around her eyes, Harriet looked through the window with a scrutinizing stare, “All clear!” she said. The pair repeated this process a few more times until they eventually concluded that the house was empty. What a relief!

“Okay, hold onto me,” Luka said. Once Harriet’s arms were wrapped around him, he located her room’s window, and pried his fingers underneath the frame. It took a bit of work, but he eventually managed to pry it open with a loud grunt, “Okay, go inside, and get your clothes.”

Harriet frowned, “We can’t say here anymore...?”

Drooping a bit, Luka shook his head, “Sorry... We can’t. Not with everyone suspicious of it, now.”

Despite her feelings, she complied and crawled through the window. As she went to find her suitcase, she turned to the window, “Can you help me...?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, Luka wasn’t sure he’d fit in her room, let alone through the window. But, he’d give it a shot. Pressing his head through the window, he found it to be quite the tight squeeze, but after a few attempts, he managed to get inside, knocking over a lamp in the process. The bulb shattered upon impact with the ground.

“Oh!” Harriet cried. Realizing she rose her voice a bit too much, she shrank back a little and lowered her voice, “Did you get smaller?” she asked. It wasn’t a significant change by any means--he was still massive--but he fit in her little room better than he did the alleyway.

“I don’t know,” Luka shrugged with a furrowed brow. Picking the lamp off the ground, he didn’t really know what to make of this. But there was no time to dwell on it! They had clothes and food to pack!

Harriet passed her favorite outfits over to her father, who carefully folded them into a purple-colored suitcase. A tight fit, but Harriet managed to find space for a few toys by cramming them in the pockets. They grabbed her back pack, dumping Harriet’s kindergarten books unceremoniously onto the floor. With a larger duffel bag in tow, the pair went into the kitchen to pack more supplies.

Harriet’s bag was filled with the lighter supplies--money, bandages, Luka’s phone, a lighter, and a number of other necessities. As he took a few items, such as bandages, from the bathroom, that was when he finally got a good look at himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection blankly at first, then his expression twisted into one of disgust. He turned away, not wanting to look at it any longer.

Back in the kitchen, the duffel bag was filled with whatever non-perishable foods Luka could find, as well as a pot or two. He double-checked everything in the bags, then slung the duffel over what shoulders he had. He had to tighten the strap to make sure it stayed in place.

Luka couldn’t think of anything else to pack, especially anything that wouldn’t weigh them down too much. He was certain that he’d think of more on their way out of the city, but at this point it was best to just get the both of them to someplace safe.

With everything in tow, Luka scooped Harriet into his arms, and slipped into the night, his sleek purple body blending perfectly in the dark. As he rose into the air, he ran a few options in his head; where they could hide, where they could find shelter, where they could get food... It was going to be terribly difficult for his little daughter, and he so desperately wished that he could have simply left her with a trusted friend instead.

Harriet spoke up when they were high enough to soar over buildings, pulling him from his thoughts, “Hey... Dad?”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“... Do you think mom was the one that did this to you?”

Luka fell silent, his tail jerking a bit. It was odd; until now, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. But as his stomach churned, he could only conclude that it was true. The drink Vanessa offered him, the sick feeling he got after leaving the restaurant, the horrific transformation. It all added up. Narrowing his eyes, he frowned deeply.

Five years later, Vanessa was just as petty as when Harriet was born.

“You know, I think you’re right.” he finally sighed, “Somehow I don’t think she’d be very willing to reverse it. For now, let’s just... Get somewhere safe.”

A pang of guilt flashed in Harriet’s eyes as she gently placed her hand against her father’s chest. She slowly nodded in reply, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Solemnly and in silence, the pair flew to the horizon, uncertainty following them like a storm cloud.

#doodledrawsthings #ahit 'coffee shop au'#ahit coffee shop au #sheep of the epic story

512 notes · View notes

mintseesaw · 4 years

Text

ngayong gabi | kth

translation. tonight

pairing: boyfriend!taehyung x reader

genre: smut, established relationship au, pwp

word count: 2.1k

warnings: explicit content, soft dom!taehyung, sub!reader, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, slight orgasm denial, mention of reader being sexually harassed in a club // rating: 18+

↳ an entry for the drabble game Paraluman Playlist requested by @baepsaesbae. Niki!!!! I hope you enjoy reading this short piece of steamy sesh with the ever lethal man sir kim taehyung hfhgdhfshdx

song rec: frozen by sabrina claudio

With a distinct click on the electronic smart door lock indicating that the door has unlocked, you push yourself inside the apartment. Your vision, hazy. You feel the ground shake beneath your feet. Or was it just your unsteady stance? You couldn’t tell.

As you kick the door close, your body sways a little more, causing you to collide against the back of the door with a thud. You groan as the pain sears in your back from the impact. The grip of your fingers on your purse loosens and falls to the marble floor, hurriedly taking hold of the knob to keep yourself up.

The spell of the alcohol seems a little stronger than you have estimated. Thank god you managed to get yourself home in one piece. You impatiently wait until you gather enough strength to crawl your way into your bedroom, or perhaps, find your boyfriend—whichever occurs first.

You didn’t know what time it was, but it’s late. You know, though not too late for your friends to leave the club just yet. You were frustrated, almost regretting not bringing your boyfriend with you even though the night out was solely meant for you and your friends to enjoy. You left rather soon, baffled and a little shaken up to have been touched inappropriately by a stranger who deemed you a willing prey just because they saw you alone in the booth in a skimpy dress on while your friends are occupied somewhere else, probably sucking faces with strangers they just met in the club.

With sluggish steps, you pad through the quietness of the apartment you share with Taehyung, tripping a few times while taking each of your heels off and tossing them on the floor unceremoniously.

The urge to throw up at bay, however, your intention to find your boyfriend now gone the minute you realized the apartment is almost dead with minimal fluorescence on, already concluding where you’d most likely locate him.

You didn’t know how long it took you to get to the bedroom. But as you push the door open, you call his name in a whimper.

Silence.

Even with only the lamp on placed on his bedside table, your clouded vision immediately landed on his figure there on the bed –sleeping.

God you missed him so much. It was not even that long since you left. In fact, he saw you to the door as you were about to leave hours ago, convincing you to stay with him. His persuasion failed him to earn your yes. Yet here you are, sulkily crossing the distance, determined to get what your tipsy, needy self wants from him.

The moment you climbed onto the bed, you straddled his waist. A bubbly giggle reverberates through the empty, noiseless room as your upper body landed flushed on top of him. Your reckless movement causes Taehyung to stir, but not enough to wake him.

Your hand disappears in between your bodies, sneaking beneath his cotton shirt to graze the defined muscles of his lean stomach through the pad of your fingers. Your mouth began its journey at his jaw to the skin of his neck, and pausing there to nip a spot you’ve once bruised with your teeth and tongue before.

It was that moment that you evoked a reaction from him, sure enough that you woke him up this time.

“Hmm… Babe?” You hear him murmur not even a second later, his voice so deep and made incredibly hoarse from his post-slumber state.

He caught your hand on his stomach, restraining the brush of your fingers which leaving tingles enough for goosebumps to appear on his arms.

“You drunk, baby?” He asks, pushing your hair out of your face to catch a glimpse of your face. You meant to answer him with a no but a moan accidentally slips out of your throat hearing the deep register of his voice. You swear the sound alone could make you twitch in places only ever touched by his cock and fingers.

You shake your head, “I miss you, Tae.” You whine, nudging your head deeper on the crook of his neck.

“Uh-uh. I can smell a strong scent of alcohol in you. How did you manage to get home?”

You grumble, “Can we not talk about it...” He couldn’t have possibly missed the need lacing in your voice.

“Alright. Rest, love.” Taehyung coos, teasing you. He was half-way through pushing himself up to move your body off of him, but you protested right away.

He smiles, amused to have seen you so needy like this.

“Hmm, then let me see my baby.” He purrs while your face remains hidden out of his sight.

You did as you were told, leveling your head above him.

He was right. You’re in no way near sober. Your half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks and the lingering smell of alcohol couldn’t convince him otherwise. The corners of his lips twitch so sexily, and you nearly moan at the sight.

“Ahh, just as I thought. How many shots have you had?” He asks so gently, yet so dangerously.

“I don’t know.” You mumble honestly, cowering back.

His palm traveled onto your nape to shift your face to hover his. Taehyung caught your jaw, nibbling gently that has you immediately sighing in return.

“What did I tell you, hmm?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to give him an answer. You feel your body sweat from the heat made by the alcohol in your system and the warmth emitting from his body. Burying your face on his shoulder, you began an experimental roll of your hips against his pelvis, rubbing your center against his clothed sex. That alone made you cry out in joy.

“Baby…” He warns, loosely gripping your hips as if to test to you further, however, you could care less of his threat now as the friction has already given you something to establish the pleasure you have been craving from him the second you left the club so early than intended.

“Taehyung, please...” You whimper next to his ear, feeling his crotch grow beneath his cotton pajamas through the stimulus you initiated.

You hear him hiss. “You’re drunk, baby… we shouldn’t…” Taehyung mumbles in obvious difficulty, like he was in pain.

“I don’t care. Please fuck me!” You beg weakly.

As your feeble of a strength wavers, your movement turns sloppier. Taehyung acknowledged your struggle. You felt his arms pull you closer from his hold, and the next thing you know, he flipped your bodies both so that he’s hovering above you now. He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, giving him an easy access to your center. His fingers push your panties aside, finding your slick folds.

“Fuck, baby you’re soaking already. You want my cock that much, huh?”

“So much—“

Another moan tears out of you, failing to finish what you were supposed to say just as Taehyung sinks his two digits inside you without a warning. He pushes them until his digits are knuckled deep, making sure to curl them. His thumb began rubbing circles on your clit, tormenting you over and over.

Your back arches, stars evading your sight from the peak of your pleasure that only his fingers have evoked in a span of seconds.

“Oh please, right there!“

Yet, to your utter dismay, Taehyung deliberately withdrew his fingers. In a flash, he captures your mouth to swallow your sobs while you wallow from the loss of his touch.

His other hand skillfully releases his erection in no time, giving his thick length a few pumps as his mouth tries to distract you, consoling you from the orgasm he had deprived you off through his fingers’ penetration.

Taehyung waited no more, aligns his tip in your entrance and in one fluid motion, sinks his length to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You cry out, tossing your head back in frenzy and the excruciating stretch of your muscles incredibly wide to welcome his thickness. You’re no stranger to his glorious cock. He’s not your first, you’ve had a few casual fucks before him. Yet, no one in your past could compare to the size of his girth like how his long, slender fingers look so huge compared to yours. Every single time he fucks you, the initial sting that comes along in his entrance is a merciless reminder just how huge he is.

Taehyung tugs your leg up around his waist to allow himself to penetrate deeper in you. Cupping his face, you hold his dark gaze back, loving the way they pierce through you, feasting at you as if you are the only woman who can make him feel this way.

You cut the eye contact too soon as his deep lunges constantly pokes your sweet spot inside, making your eyes clenched so tightly, as tight as the muscles down there as they continue to contract from the steady penetration of his cock.

“Tae –“ You mewl just as your body involuntarily shudders, your back contorting from the aphrodisiac waves crashing through your body. The palms grasping his face loosen only to fist material of the sheets beneath you. Taehyung took the sight in with a devious smirk curling on the corners of his mouth as his teeth grazes the shell of your ear, and murmuring sweet nothings next to your ear every now.

If you’re tipsy few moments ago, you’re sure all the remnants of drunkenness in your system have evaporated into the heated atmosphere in the semi-dark room and was replaced by something much more intense and powerful. You could feel it approaching, your moans were becoming heavily difficult to hold back. Taehyung took it as his cue to speed up his pace.

His name, the only thing your mouth has managed to chant with every firm thrust he delivers. Once again, he latches his mouth onto the skin of your neck, taking in all of the audible evidences of your pleasure.

Recognizing the tightening of his muscles in his stomach, the knot building up at the pit of his stomach as your core grips him so deliciously tight, he couldn’t hold back a feral growl vibrating from chest.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me.” He demands, giving you powerful impulses until your muscles clamp around him.

If not for his cotton shirt on, Taehyung knew there would be fresh cuts marking on his skin the way your fingers dig so deep on his shoulders as you brace yourself from the imminent end.

“There! Please, oh fuck!” You sob as you feel yourself convulse. Your body jerks forcefully as delightful cries fill the room following the intense surge of pleasure rippling through your lower region and into your body, sucking your energy into emptiness.

Even with you limping beneath his body, Taehyung relentlessly hammers into you both riding you out of your orgasm and to further push himself closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck baby, so good, so tight. So beautiful… only mine.” Taehyung continues to splutter sweet nothings beside your ear with his hips ceaselessly ramming against yours.

You watch above as you Taehyung in dazed of the pleasure it gives him being inside you. Pride emanates from you at the thought of making him this vulnerable despite the power he holds on you. He loves your submission and the control he has over you, yet every time his orgasm hits him, all of it vanishes, indulging his pleasure with nothing but delicateness twinkling in his eyes. Just as now as he comes undone above you with unrestrained rumbles reverberating in his chest. He’s so lost and almost helpless.

His pounding becomes greedy and deeper as spurts of his thick liquid fill your walls, tearing another shudder through you when tingles began sparking in your veins. His prurient growls had stopped as he distracted himself instead through bruising a spot on your neck. Yet his movements didn’t cease, not until he made sure he had emptied his load inside you.

And as he carefully pulls himself out, you feel yourself dripping from your combined bodily fluids as it oozes out of you. When he finally calms down, he scoops your back in his arm and flipped your bodies with ease, placing you flushed on his side. Still fully clothed with your sticky body, you shift uncomfortably.

His arms enclose over your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, tucking your head in the crook his neck. He kisses the side of your head. “Sweet dreams, baby.” He murmurs one last last time, smiling, loving the way you’re pliantly snugging in his side.

A sudden thought crosses his mind, but quickly pushes aside the thought of you suffering from a hangover the following morning while he lets himself relish the feel of you in his arm tonight.

*heavily unedited

#paralumanplaylist #bayanihanboost #btsguild #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #cypherwritersnet #btsbookclub #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagines #kim taehyung #bts smut

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nostalgiabones · 4 years

Text

Our Little Secret // C.H

So here is a little dad!sos AU crossover that I originally just wrote for @calumrose, but then decided to actually post! There’s a bit of a surprise at the end, so let me know how you feel about that! 😌♥️

“Are you so excited, baby?”

Mara is almost bouncing around the room at the news that Luke is on his way over, with a very special guest. Ever since she found out that Luke and his partner were expecting, she had been beyond excited to meet the new addition. She had become obsessed with dolls and babies – fascinated by the growing bump of her pseudo auntie, as well as her bedroom now being full of dolls. You’d never seen the almost three-year-old so excited by the prospect of anything in her life.

“Yeah mama!” She replies, wrapping her arms around the small baby doll in her arms. “So ‘cited!”

“Do you have your present for her?” Calum asks, remembering the small teddy that had been sat in the corner of her bedroom for around a month now. It was like one that Luke had bought her when she was born, so Calum thought it would be perfect to return the favour. “Should we go get it?”

Mara nods and reaches up for Calum, wanting him to pick her up so they can go to her bedroom to get it. “You’re so lazy, bub.” Calum laughs, but picking her up all the same. “Come on then.”

By the time Calum gets upstairs with Mara and finds the present, he hears a knock at the door and you greeting Luke and his family. “Who’s here Mara? Is it the baby?”

“Go see!” She replies, squealing in excitement, waiting at the top of the stairs for Calum to help her down.

“Where’s my favourite niece?” Luke calls out, his eyes landing on Calum and Mara heading downstairs. Mara gasps when she sees the baby carrier in his hand, almost like she didn’t believe that the baby was there until she saw her. “There she is.”

Calum sets Mara down, waiting to let go until she’s steady on her feet, watching as Mara runs up to Luke’s waiting arms. Luke feels a little emotional at seeing her, now that he has his own baby; Mara was the first band baby, the one who made Luke want to be a dad, and now he gets to be one. “Hi, sweetheart. We have someone very special for you to meet. I know she’s really excited to meet you.”

“Can I see?” She asks, trying to climb out of his arms to investigate the baby carrier on the ground. Luke nods, kneeling next to her to make sure she doesn’t get too excited.

“Should we go sit down, baby? So you can see properly? Calum suggests, knowing she’ll want to hold her if Luke and his partner will let her. She nods, running off into the lounge, waiting until everyone follows behind.

You all head into the lounge behind her, Luke keeping a tight grip on Delilah’s carrier. He knows her nap will probably end soon, and he hopes it won’t be when Mara holds her. He doesn’t want to scare her off, especially when she’s so excited.

She sits on the sofa, making grabby hands towards Luke, to get him to give her the baby. “Okay, okay. I’m getting her, I promise.” He chuckles, kneeling in front of the carrier and undoing the clasps.

“Mara, remember what we talked about, okay?” Calum reminds her, his hand rubbing up and down her back to get her attention. “We have to be very gentle, okay? Delilah is a new baby, sweetheart. She’s not used to people just yet.”

Mara nods, and Calum isn’t sure if she actually paid attention. Mara would never intentionally hurt her, of course, but he knows what she’s like when she’s excited.

“Also, she’s not a doll, okay?” You add, receiving a laugh from the other adults in the room. Mara was gentle with her dolls, but also tended to drop them on the floor when she got bored of them.

Luke undoes the straps, slipping his hands underneath Delilah, making sure he’s got a good hold on her before he scoops her up. Making sure her head is supported, he puts her on his chest, one hand underneath her, the other holding her head.

“Baby!” Mara exclaims, kicking her legs against the sofa in excitement. Calum smiles at how happy she is, keeping his hand on her back to calm her down. Delilah curls into Luke, barely taking up half of his chest – tucking her legs up into a little ball against him. She squeaks and whines a little in her sleep at being moved, soon soothed by Luke’s gentle shushes.

It’s almost like Mara goes shy when Luke moves to sit next to her. Like Delilah suddenly became real to her, and she doesn’t know how to act. Calum notices the change in her, brushing his fingers through her hair in a reassuring gesture.

“It’s okay, little moon.” He tells her, kissing her forehead as she sits a little closer to him.

“Do you want to see her first?” Luke asks her softly, aware of Delilah sleeping on him. He knows Mara wants to hold her, but it seems as though she needs to warm up to her first. Mara nods hesitantly, her hand clinging onto Calum’s knee as a sign of nervousness. “Here we go,”

Luke repositions Delilah so she’s in the cradle of his arms, her head supported by the crook of his elbow. She curls into his body, rosy cheeks sucking on the pacifier that takes up most of her face. Luke rubs his thumb over the apple of her cheek, coaxing her face away from his t-shirt, so Mara, you and Calum can see her face.

“Look at that nose,” Calum comments, noticing the slope and perfect point was so similar to that of her dad. “Just like yours, Luke.”

“She looks just like him,” Luke’s wife pouts, admiring her in the cradle of his arms. “I carry her for nine months and give birth to her, yet she looks nothing like me.”

“What do you think, Mara?” Luke asks her, hoping that he’s easing her shyness a little. “Is she cute?”

Mara nods, peering over to look at the tiny baby in her Uncle’s arms. Luke strokes his pointer finger over Delilah’s hand, showing Mara that nothing bad would happen if she came closer to interact with her. Delilah just stretches to get comfy and wraps her tiny hand around the middle of Luke’s finger.

“Shall we say hi together?” Calum asks, encouraging Mara to interact with her. Mara nods once more and moves closer to Luke, gently reaching out and tapping Delilah carefully. “Be gentle, sweetheart.”

Delilah cuddles into Luke and Mara giggles at her movement, seemingly getting excited to meet her again. She copies Luke and puts her hand on Delilah’s free one, waiting to see if she grabs hold of it, like she did to him. Delilah stretches her tiny fingers out and tries to take Mara’s hand, curling around it in a reflex.

“Look!” Mara squeals, her other hand clasping over her mouth when she realises how loud she was. She’s met with a, “it’s okay, honey” from Luke when she sees her reaction.

“I see, baby.” Calum replies, happy that she’s finally warming up to her.

“Do you want to hold her with me?” Luke asks her, met with a more excited nod this time. “Okay, hold on.”

Luke moves Delilah against him once more, managing to cradle her with one arm whilst Mara sits on his knee, his other arm wrapped around her. She whines a little once more, her pacifier slipping out from her lips as the first hiccup of a cry escapes.

“Uh oh,” Mara says, grabbing the pacifier and keeping hold of it, to make sure it doesn’t fall onto the floor. She sits still whilst Luke gets them both settled, managing to place Delilah in Mara’s arms, whilst still supported by his own.

“Keep your hand there, okay? We have to make sure her head doesn’t fall.” Luke tells her. He knows he has her head supported enough that if Mara did move, she wouldn’t fall, but he wants to make Mara feel important. “Do you want to put her pacifier back in for her?”

Mara lifts the hand occupied by the pacifier and gently holds it to Delilah’s mouth, pushing it in with Luke’s help, waiting until she took to it again. Delilah is more than happy with the contact – her face pressed against Mara’s t-shirt to get comfy, her eyes fluttering with tiredness again. “Back to sleep...”

Luke chuckles at her words, resting his cheek on her head as he holds both her and Delilah. “I know. She sleeps a lot so she can grow up to be big and strong, like you.”

They spend a little longer cuddled up together before Mara decides she’s bored, and Delilah is ready for a feed. She’s soon back in Luke’s arms, swaddled in a blanket, content as he feeds her.

“Where did her present get to, bub?” You ask Mara, knowing her and Calum went upstairs to get it before Luke had arrived. You assumed that Mara had got too excited when she heard the door go and wanted to go downstairs before she got the chance to find it. “Did you find it? Shall we go get it?”

She nods and jumps up off the sofa, letting you take her hand in your own.

“It’s on the dresser in her bedroom.” Calum informs you, where he left it earlier. He watches as the two of you head to her room to get it.

“Mara looks so big now,” Luke pouts, snuggling Delilah a little closer in his arms. “I don’t know why but now we’ve got a newborn, Mara just seems so much older.”

“Don’t say that,” Calum groans, thinking about how much Mara is growing up. He agrees with Luke though. Now that he’s seen Delilah, it makes him realise how long it’s been since Mara was that age. “She’s still a baby.”

“So, what are you thinking about baby number two, Cal?” Luke’s partner asks.

Calum chuckles, a blush rising to his cheeks at her question.

“I don’t know,” He replies, shrugging his shoulders. “We talked about it, but we’ll probably wait until Mara is a little older. Maybe when she starts school.”

Luke and his partner don’t have time to reply before you come back into the lounge with Mara, carrying the present you had gone looking for.

“What’s that, honey?” Luke asks her, smiling at the grin on her face, her hands tightly clutching the soft bear. “Is that for me?”

“Noooo,” She giggles, moving closer to peer at Delilah in his arms, now finished with her bottle and back to sleeping. “It’s for ‘Lilah, silly.”

“Oh! Silly me,” Luke replies, the ‘oh’ exaggerated for Mara’s benefit. “That’s so kind! Thank you.”

“For you, ‘Lilah,” Mara murmurs to her, placing the bear on top of her, being gentle as not to wake her up.

Delilah is passed around to you and Calum, the two of you having plenty of time to snuggle her before it’s time for them to take her home.

It’s not until late that night, once Mara is tucked up in bed, that Calum murmurs an important question to you – one that has been on his mind since he found out the exciting news himself.

You’re tucked up in bed together, legs entwined under the covers; Calum’s warm hand slipped under the soft material of his t-shirt that you stole to sleep in. His warm palm fits over the small bump there, only visible to you and him – one that you’re nervous to reveal to the toddler sleeping down the hall.

“So… when should we tell her?”

***

Feedback is always so so appreciated! Please let me know what you think here.

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catgrump · 3 years

Note

“I’m alive?” [For Sondham Sonia/GUNDHAM?] Your writing is 💕💕💕

I’m so glad you like my writing 💛💛💛

This is an Idea for a little scenario from Cruise Ship AU! I have plans for a full-fledged Sondham fic in Cruise Ship AU so this is a taste of what’s to come I guess lol

🌻🌻🌻

Gundham stared at his reflection in the cramped bathroom, leaning on the faux-marble vanity

He sighed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Could this cost him his job? Potentially. He’s thought about that. He can’t remember the last time he was disciplined, so maybe this would be worth the risk.

The ship was docked at its private island. He’s never actually stepped on shore. And when she found that out, she insisted he abandon his post for the day to spend time with her.

“I was going to do so many things alone! It would much more fun with a companion!” She pleaded

And he gave in. When he first met her just a few days ago, he felt like he lost his inhibitions. She’s captivating. He looks forward to stopping by her family’s suite each day for a chance to see her. She’s kind, and curious. She’s asked about him and his life.

So he’s taking a chance.

Not like he isn’t taking a chance whenever he goes out of his way to see her. But this is something entirely different.

He left the employees’ quarters to meet her on the dock.

He stepped onto the gangway and felt the sun beat down on his pale skin, and felt like he could sweat immediately seeing Sonia sitting on a nearby bench

She’s beautiful. Her long blonde hair was gathered into braids that cascaded against her frame, adorned with a sleek swimsuit, dark shorts, and a sheer black shawl. She was glistening in the sunshine.

And then she saw him. She grinned ear to ear and stood up, gathering a bag closer to her and waving with unbridled enthusiasm

He walked down to join her. “I am so glad you are here!” She was practically bouncing with excitement, “Part of me was not expecting this.”

Gundham shrugged, smiling, “I do not take promises lightly.”

“Then come with me! I have a reservation in fifteen minutes,” she took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him down the dock toward the island

Gundham followed Sonia’s lead as he took in the sights around him. The island itself was clearly designed to be accomodating to vacationers. Before the bombastically colorful front gate, one of the first things you saw were giant water slides towering into the sky.

The sky was perfectly blue and the waters looked crystalline. The sand on the shore was almost was white as the clouds. It was almost too perfect

Sonia continued to hold on to Gundham as she trudged through tourists. They passed by souvenir stalls, rows of chaise lounges, private waterfront cabanas, snack shacks, musicians playing calypso, and tropical flora and fauna— which Gundham always took note of. There were far more lizards here than he anticipated, which was exciting.

By the time Sonia finally said “we made it,” Gundham thought she had made a mistake.

When Sonia said ‘a reservation’, he thought it was for a meal. But there was a shack in front of them, storage lockers behind them, and... water vehicles of some kind parked in the water beside them

They weren’t boats; they were much too small. Gundham had never seen a vehicle like this before. It appeared to be a scooter or motorcycle on water

Sonia finished talking with the attendant in the shack and approached Gundham, jingling a small key on a ring. “Anything you do not want getting wet goes in a locker,” she chirped

Oh. So she did have a reservation to... ride. He didn’t take her as someone who’d want to do those sorts of things.

Gundham did his best not to stare as she removed her shawl, revealing more of her figure. He swallowed, but then quickly averted his eyes when he saw her start to take off the shorts she had on. He could feel himself growing more and more flustered as his imagination ran wild

He bit his lower lip as he looked at his feet idly kicking the sand

He had to snap himself back when he felt a finger tap his shoulder. Sonia was standing in front of him expectantly. “If you have a phone on you, I suggest leaving that in my bag in the locker,” She giggled

“Right,” he nodded and followed her advice, taking his phone out of the pocket of his swim shorts and placing it in her tote bag once he was at their locker.

She has not said anything, Gundham paused, standing still in front of the locker, contemplating an insecurity of his, I do not think she will make any remarks...

He took a deep breath and decided to remove the shirt he had on. Sonia had only previously seen him in uniform— a uniform where he was able to cover his scars. They adorned both of his arms, and he had some across his chest. When on the clock, he went out of his way to appear more friendly and approachable than he desired to be. Even with his brooding presence, Sonia had led him this far. The last thing he wants is for her to be scared of him.

Gundham did his best to control his breathing while he folded the shirt. We ARE on a beach, he told himself, This is perfectly acceptable.

He took one last deep breath before turning around to face her. A weight fell off his shoulders when she smiled and clasped her hands together with glee.

“Come on,” she instructed, “We have to listen to the safety information!”

They sat among strangers and listened to an instructor guide them through driving the vehicles, which Gundham learned were called ‘wave runners’.

His leg bounced with anxiety as he tried to focus his nervous energy on gripping his own knuckles

When the presentation was over, they put on life vests and went to the docks.

“Is it alright if I drive?” She asked with pleading eyes. But they were entirely unnecessary.

“Y-yes, that is fine,” Gundham did his best to hide his fear. This is not the type of activity he would do to seek a rush of adrenaline.

Sonia climbed on, taking hold of the steering handles with zeal. Gundham waited for her to settle in before cautiously sitting behind her, and searched for some sort of handle on the side of the vehicle to grab.

There was no such handle.

Well, he had to hold on somehow. He very carefully wrapped his arms around her waist, doing his best to maintain a respectful distance between them. She’s beautiful and she did invite him out, but he can’t make any assumptions.

On the insteuctor’s cue, the fleet of wave runners started off. Sonia turned over her shoulder and asked “Are you ready?”

Gundham nodded yes with a tight, forced smile.

He felt like he was flying. And not in a graceful, peaceful way. It was as if he were a crash-test-dummy in a race car, headed toward his inevitable demise. Sonia’s profile over her shoulder was the last thing he saw. Removing one of his senses just amplified the others. He couldn’t look at anything, but he could hear the motors speeding through the waves, he could smell the salt of the sea as it hit his face, he could taste his mouth getting drier, and he could feel how he had suddenly grasped on to Sonia with all of his might. There was no distance between them anymore. His brain was telling him that if he let go, he would fall off, and who knows what would happen after that?

He was squeezing his own arms for stabilization, and listening to Sonia laugh, trying to center himself. This went on for what felt like eons.

Until they suddenly stopped. “Gundham?” He heard her say his name and opened his eyes. He picked his head up to see her looking down at him with wisps of hair in her face and a concerned smile

“I’m alive?” Were the first words out of his mouth

She laughed, and covered her mouth with one of her hands. “Yes, we made it back! Our time is up.”

“Oh,” Gundham suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed, “That was not... so bad.”

“Gundham, you have not let go of me.”

She was smiling, but Gundham instinctively released his grip. Was his face heating up from the sun, or because of her?

“I think I owe you a stiff drink after that,” she continued, swinging a leg over the side of the waverunner, “Come on; my treat.”

She stepped off the vehicle and offered Gundham a hand. With his heart in his throat, he accepted it.

Prompt from This List: feel free to send in a request!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-Fi if you can 💛 Fics will always be free; tipping is optional 💛

#danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa fic #sonia nevermind #sonia x gundham #sdr2 sonia #danganronpa sondham #sondham #gundham tanaka #sdr2 gundham #danganronpa gundham #cruise ship au #danganronpa au

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beauvibaby · 4 years

Text

tipsy winner - a.matthews

“Auston Matthews scores the winning goal in overtime!” I shot up out of my seat, cheering along with half of the stadium, he shot me a wink when he met my gaze for a brief second as the guys all skated over to him. Nothing could wipe the grin off of my face, as the other girlfriends and I shared excited shrieks, I answered my phone as I waited out in front of the locker rooms. “Y/N, I just saw the game!” Ema cheered over the line, I smiled even though she couldn’t see me. “I know, it was great wasn’t it?” I breathed out, finally getting to relieve some of my excited energy as I anxiously waited for him to come out. “It was amazing, tell papi how proud I am?” She asked, hearing the commotion as the guys started piling out. “Of course!” I told her, adding a quick goodbye as Auston nearly tackled me to the ground in a hug, “oh my god! Baby, that was freaking amazing!” I gasped wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, “it was.” He agreed cockily, I lightly whacked the back of his head. “Keep your ego in check.” I quipped, he smirked but nodded, pulling me in for another quick kiss. “Drinks?” Will asked approaching us, he put an arm over each of our shoulders, I glanced around him to see Auston looking at me with raised brows. “Hell yes!” I cheered earning a round of applause and a thankful look from my boyfriend, I wasn’t much of a partyer and he respected that, his own habits having settled down since he’s been with me, but he deserves to have fun, and I’ll just be the one to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. “Beat it, Nylander.” Auston joked, lightly shoving his team mate out from between us so he could walk with his arms around me to the car.

“Baby you don’t have to go, you know that, right?” He asked in my ear as he placed a kiss to my hair. “I know, but you deserve this and I know you want me to be there, just don’t expect me to get drunk.” I teased, glancing up at him, he was giving me a concerned look. “Aus, I promise I want to go and be with you, have fun, alright?” I assured him, turning in his hold when we reached the car, I placed a hand on his cheek, smiling when he turned and kissed the inside of my hand before resting his cheek back in it for a moment. “Fine, I swear if you want to leave just tell me and we can go, promise?” He mumbled, holding a pinky out like a child. I threw my head back in a fit of laughter and he grinned at my actions but still held his pinky out. “I promise.” I linked my pinky with his, “now get in the car.” I added. “Oh, your mom called, she said she was proud of you.” I spoke suddenly once he started the car, “call her in the morning, alright?” I reminded him, “I know, I know.” He assured me, shooting me a smile as he placed a hand on my thigh.

“Playing designated driver too?” I teased Steph as I slid into the booth beside her at the bar, “oh yeah, told him to let loose, we’ll see what I have to deal with.” She laughed in response, clinking her soda with mine. “Seems like my child for the night is already reaching his limit.” I sighed with a smile as Auston cheekily waved over at me from his spot by the bar with Freddie. I could tell by his mannerisms that the alcohol was really getting to him, he was a little slow in his response time, and there was a sheen on his eyes that he only got when he was getting drunk tired. Steph let a giggle fall past her lips when Auston started stumbling over to me, he nearly tripped but steadied himself on the post beside him. “Hi, baby.” He spoke holding a hand out for me, I raised my eyebrows, taking his hand and shooting Steph a look as he pulled me to the middle of the bar. “Dance with me?” He asked, swaying to the non existent music. “Love, there’s no music playing.” I laughed softly, cupping his cheek, feeling the slight stubble peeking through on his jaw. “I don’t care, I just want to dance with my girl.” He muttered with a disappointed pout, I gave in and leaned against his chest. As we slowly turned around I saw Steph taking a video on her phone, “send it to me!” I mouthed and she shot me a thumbs up, fumbling with her phone when Mitch nearly fell into the booth beside her. “Auston?” I spoke after a while, feeling him get heavier on me, he shot his head up, “yeah, yeah, what?” I could tell he was beginning to get tired. “Let’s go home?” I offered, and he nodded with a sigh, knowing I was right.

“Auston!” I scolded when he pressed more than just our floor in the elevator, “stop that.” I lightly whacked his hand and he dramatically pulled it in with a frown. “Ow.” He complained, I raised my eyebrows, “you get rammed into walls for a living, and my little love tap has you frowning?” I retorted and he tried to hold back a fit of drunken giggles but failed, biting his lip as he snickered, the doors to the elevator opening on our floor, thankfully every number he hit was higher than ours. “Come on.” I sighed with a smile as I pulled him along. “Are you staying with me?” He asked suddenly with a sad look on his face, “Aus, honey, we’ve lived together for three months.” I reminded him, digging through my bag for my keys, once I pulled them out, he snatched them from my grip. Muttering something about being a gentleman, I leaned against the wall with my arms lightly crossed as he fumbled with the key, hardly being able to get the key in the hole. “Ladies first.” He spoke going to open the door but moving before he realized it hadn’t opened and hitting his head directly on it. This time I was the one holding back giggles as I took the keys from him, “you didn’t unlock the deadbolt.” I softly pointed out, quickly unlocking the door, he lightly smacked my hand away when I went to open the door. “Stop.” He whined, opening it and lazily holding it open for me. “Oh, my prince, what would I do without you?” I teased, my response coming over deaf ears as he stumbled in, muttering to the door about the lock.

“You’re drunk, baby, lets get some sleep.” I directed him towards are bedroom, “I’m not drunk.” He defended, a look of thought crossing his face, “I’m tipsy!” He confirmed with a proud grin. “Hmm, alright.” I simply agreed, smiling softly at his back as he swung the bedroom door open. He nearly threw himself down on the bed, landing on his stomach, “Auston, you’re not going to be comfortable in dress clothes.” I reminded him, running my fingers through his slightly tossled hair, “but I’m so tired.” He complained, lazily sitting up with my assistance. I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior, I began unbuttoning his shirt, I was expecting him to make a smart remark about it, but he was too tired to try. He rested his forehead on my shoulder as I pushed the material off of his body. “You smell good.” He mumbled, placing a wet kiss to my exposed skin, I smiled even though he couldn’t see me. “I know, you got it for me.” I answered, thinking back to the perfume he had gifted me just a few weeks ago, no reason, he just came home and gave it to me, saying how it made him think of me. Auston kicked his shoes off, wiggling his brows when I undid his belt, “not tonight, babe.” I laughed, he groaned and stood up, thankfully being able to remove the rest of his pants before flopping back down in his boxers. He laid on his stomach with a pillow curled up under him, I expected him to go straight to sleep, so I went about my usual night time routine, disappearing into the bathroom for a solid ten minutes, removing my makeup, brushing my teeth and my hair, I walked out and flicked the light off, turning my bedside lamp on so I could see the pajamas I was looking for, I jumped when I saw Auston looking back at me.

He laughed and kept his eyes on me as I pulled my shorts and tank top out of the drawer, I kept my back to him as I removed my clothes, “you’re so pretty.” He mumbled, I hummed in response, smiling to myself, even if he was drunk he still made me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. “Baby, are you mad?” He asked after a while, I turned towards him as I finished pulling my shirt on, “no, of course not.” I assured him, furrowing my brows together when he looked at me with concern. I shimmied the shorts up my legs before making my way towards him. “Why would I be mad?” I asked softly, smiling when he pulled me closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. “Because I’m drunk, and you’re not and you’re taking care of me.” He paused like there was more, I ran my fingers through his hair, “and I said you were pretty and you didn’t say anything, did-did I do something?” He asked shooting his head up. I smiled at his concern, I leaned up pressing a kiss to his cheek, “no, Aus, you didn’t do anything. I’m not mad, I’m glad you had fun tonight.” I explained, gently pushing him back down to the bed, he he so stayed but finally laid his head back down. “You need to sleep, bub, you’re going to be exhausted tomorrow.” I whispered, running my fingers up and down his spine, something he would never vocalize that he loved, but I could tell whenever I did it he would relax. He let his eyes flutter shut, shoving his head farther into the pillow as I pulled the blanket over us. “I love you.” I whispered to his already sleeping figure, kissing his temple before letting myself fall into a good sleep.

***

I woke up to the sound of Auston grumbling under his breath as he trudged into the bathroom. I blinked a couple times to adjust to the light that was now pouring into the room, he didn’t notice I was awake as he brushed his teeth, I laid there, similar to how he had done last night, watching him go through his routine. I smiled when he walked out and his eyes landed on me, “good morning.” I whispered, he smiled at me, “good morning, princess.” He mumbled leaning down to kiss my lips softly. I hummed in appreciation when he laid down beside me, “do you remember anything from last night?” I teased, he rolled his eyes, “uh, no actually.” He admitted with a chuckle, I reached behind me and grabbed my phone, showing him the video Steph had sent me. He watched it and groaned hiding his face in his hands, “there wasn’t even music!” He laughed at himself, “nope, but it was still super sweet.” I assured him, placing my phone back on the nightstand. He pulled me closer, our faces inches away, “and then when we got home, you walked into the front door, and then you thought I was going to blow you when I was taking your pants off, let’s see, what else...” I trailed off laughing as his face turned a light shade of pink in embarrassment. “You weren’t bad though, you were still really sweet to me.” I explained, he smiled, slightly relieved that he hadn’t done anything to insane. “You told me I was pretty while I was changing and when I only hummed you freaked out and got afraid that you’d upset me.” I added and he raised his brows, the concern flashing in his eyes just like last night. “You are beautiful, you know that right?” He searched my eyes for a single doubt that I didn’t believe him. “I know, Aus. You tell me a hundred times a day, everyday.” I smiled softly, hiding my face in his chest. “Damn right I do, my girlfriend is fucking gorgeous.”

tag list: @literarycharleton

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sparklingpax · 3 years

Text

Sweet Bother, That’s What You Are

A.N:

(starring my two TFP OCs, Paxie and Sharpflint, who will be getting sketch posts um.........eventually o///o’’)

-HIIIIII So. Potentially the first of many drabbles with these two <3 There’s no official story story, really....just whatever comes to mind if I feel like writing it! ^w^

-I actually managed to find the first time I did a drabble for them, idk, kinda dumb, but thought I’d link in case you were interested ^^’’

-This one’s kinda dumb too I apologize but I wanted to write it so

-Sorry for grammar, punctuation, word usage, spelling, etc mistakes......it’s late and I’m falling asleep and my brain is on Full Sunshine Happy Things mode so I’m just trying to dump all that into this story >:3

-What planet are they on that has metallic trees and rocks?? uM?? uh--ok well,,,,,,same planet as the last one sorry I’m not very creative idk why I need so many trees for my writing anyway lmfao akjdjsd

-So when is this set then?? Ok so. After the war; in this universe here, which is not an au btw (or is it?? idk?? the events are assumed to be exactly the same as prime and other aligned continuity stuff just with these two inserted in the background if that makes any sense at all,,,,) Paxie was from one of the first generations after the war; Sharpflint fought in the war as an Autobot so,,,theres that.

-May I just note for the record so no one asks or makes assumptions, their relationship is fully inteded to be really good friendship & it’s Not romantic. Sorry if I made it confusing in the writing sdjsdj basically I love writing romantic stuff but for once I want to write a Good Friends dynamic ^w^ hope thats okie!

-Also no Sharpflint is not actually old, he’d be more like a 35-year old and Paxie’s might be 25-ish. If you wanted to visualize it in human years I guess because we’re all........human..? She’s just fooling around 😹✨

-SHOUTOUT TO Y’ALL WHO ENCOURAGED ME TO START POSTING MY DRABBLE IDEAS!! I hope I do not disappoint too much ^^’’

-hhhhh & it be Short™ o///o but I hope you like it!!! thanks for reading!!! :)

///

Paxie kicked a stray rock back into its place on the side of the road and pouted. Arms folded behind her back, she did her best to tune out whatever Sharpflint was on about. Why?

“—and Primus fragging heck, Paxie, you know that as your friend—no, respected elder and mentor—I do not want to find your corpse on the side of the highway because you refuse to learn that—”

Yes. That. Because he was lecturing her about how strongly he disagreed with her personal stance in the Natural Form movement. However, she was not truly annoyed at all. It was a peaceful afternoon and she’d managed to convince Sharpflint to ditch patrol to walk with her.

I’m going to have some fun here--after all, I’m giving up my free day, the one day I don’t have classes!!

Suddenly, one of his words registered in her mind and she got an idea.

Paxie tapped his arm. He came to a halt alongside her, breaking off abruptly to give her a scathing ‘WHAT.’ However he swallowed that, too when he saw her face.

“You got one thing right, salty engines,” Paxie started, feigning frustration.

Sharpflint narrowed his yellow optics—he absolutely detested that ridiculous nickname.

“Oh?” He muttered back, half annoyed. “Enlighten me.”

Paxie shook her head, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Well, you’re old. But you’re not my mentor—you’re too old to be my mentor. I’d need a spry, young, whippersnapper like myself! In fact—wait—”

She did a shushing motion and looked around. Sharpflint moaned quietly, rolling his eyes hard. He waited for her to continue roasting him.

“Yes…yes, I can hear it!”

He decided to play along, folding his arms as he towered over her. “Hear what, Paxie?”

“Listen!! I can hear the high concentration of salt in your attitude rusting your rotor blades!!”

Frag me, Primus why.

“I can hear it from a mile—”

Sharpflint picked her up, smirking as her words melted into surprised yelping. He hoisted her over his shoulder, gripping her legs as the rest of her body hung over his back, and eyed the tree a small ways ahead of them. His grin grew wider.

“Old, huh?”

“Yes!!” Paxie was laughing now, gasping for air.

“Well, then, I’ll just show you how us elderly were taught to run!”

“FLINT!!!”

He swung her in a circle before racing ahead to the tree, prompting more giggled cries. His eyes glinted while his shorter friend shouted, playfully indignant, and demanded to be put down.

“I’ll snap you in two, you robot stick!!”

“Try it, tiny!! You’d barely leave a scratch!”

“OH—” Paxie narrowed her optics and whacked his green plating, still laughing. “SO SAYS ‘MR. INSULTS ARE RUDE’!! WOW!!”

Sharpflint let out a laugh himself, reaching the tree. Sure I said that, but I never said I couldn’t joke around…

“Hey, what are y—WAHHAHHHHHNOONONO—”

The two mechs had made it to the tree, so Sharpflint naturally tossed Paxie just high enough for her to land in one of the branches. As he’d hoped, she latched on and balled up against the metallic surface, optics wide with shock.

Take that, you adorable little scrap. Sharpflint nodded to himself, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head back to take in the view. Paxie started giggling again, wailing down at him to help her off the branch .

“I’m only as old as the middle of the Great War!”

“You’re a salty, rusty sack of bolts!!”

Sharpflint sighed, turning away. “You and Mr. Tree can keep each other company until I come back here for patrol….” He pretended to think deeply, then calmly finished, “Four days from now.”

“Fine! You’re only as old as the youngest old bot from the war!!”

“Three days.”

“You’re a not-so-old dork!”

“Hmmm….” Sharpflint let the silence sink in, as if he were actually deeply considering her words. Paxie sighed audibly.

“You’re my favorite old dork--the best friend I could ask for!”

At this, Sharpflint turned and regarded her, beaming down at him. He unfolded his arms, chuckling lightly.

“I was going to let you down anyway, you know..” he said a little more quietly, feeling a little warm after her previous comment. The purple-white mech grinned back down at him.

“I know! I just wanted to say!”

Paxie was his closest friend, even if she was young, and didn’t know how bleak life could be—which was half the reason they ever got into fights in the first place anyway. Sometimes it’s hard to see eye-to-eye with someone who’s led a completely different life than your own. Both Sharpflint and Paxie were aware of that.

All that same, she was sunshine and openness.

Paxie was…simply put, a great friend.

Sharpflint cracked a small smile—not a smirk, but a real smile.

“You want to meet again at Silicon’s tonight?”

“Only if you’re paying!”

Sharpflint heaved another sigh, slumping over. Well, what else was to be expected? After all, the helicopter mech had thrown his friend into a tree. He couldn’t say no.

Well, no, he could, really should...but it would be rude—

“Oh, dear Primus,” he murmured under his breath, continuing to gaze up at Paxie, still hugging the tree branch for her dear life.

“Yay!! Silicon’s!!” Paxie cheered like a young sparkling, then cut herself off as her celebratory motions caused the branch to sway a bit too much.

“Thank goodness for frequent paychecks…”

But above all, thank goodness for friends. Especially the ones that drive a bot nuts. Paxie, I’d give my life for you.

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mimirexx · 3 years

Text

Im super duper late for the jeanpikuweek i feel so bad ;-; but i finally finished this work! I chose the promts AU, saving and alliance and tried to put it into a fic somehow! Since it got a little long i divided it into three chapters and will post one chapter each day 😌

Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Breakout

An AU where Jean is a shifter and got caught by Zeke and his men. Beside the torture he was receiving, Pieck visits him and the two start to get closer. They want to escape together - but at what costs?

TW: torture, beating, rape (no explicit rape, not between Jean and Pieck!), blood, violence, angst

Chapter one - Chapter two - Chapter three

Deep down in a basement where no sunlight reached sat Jean, a man unfortunate enough to have been captured and imprisoned during a failed mission. He had long forgotten what day it was, spent too much time in the darkness to distinguish between day and night.

Heavy chains hung around his wrists, not allowing him to move more than a few feet away from the wall. There was a thin mattress on the ground where he slept and a shabby piece of cloth that couldn’t be called blanket in any possible way. The cell he was locked up in was small, the stone floor so cold.

They ripped off his clothes before they threw him inside, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, mainly to ensure he had no chance to hide any weapons whatsoever but Jean had a feeling it was also to humiliate him. He was on enemy territory, so of course they would use every opportunity to humiliate and torture him. Nevertheless, he never gave away any information. They could do whatever they wanted, Jean wouldn’t lose a word.

Whether it was beating him up, burning his skin or slicing off his limbs, the shifter remained silent. There was nothing that could make him betray his friends and comrades. Their safety was the top priority, he would be fine as long as they didn’t kill him- which he didn’t think was their intention. At least not until they knew what they wanted to know.

He’d be fine until then.

“Why the long face?” A male voice spoke up, standing in front of his cell. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Jean didn’t answer, instead just stared at the same spot on the wall he was staring at for hours. One would say there was something really interesting on it with how long and intensely Jean already stared at it. He was thinking deeply, thinking of a way to escape that cell.

Though, he had no idea where he was. Even if he made it out, he didn’t know where to go, which made him an easy target to get captured a second time and receive even worse treatment. The smartest move was to stay where he was and try to gain more information. Everything else would be suicide.

The male stepped into Jean’s cell, the sounds of his boots echoing as he approached the brunet. Only when he stood right in front of him did Jean look up and immediately received a kick in the stomach, making him groan.

Jean kept his volume as low as he could because he didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of hurting him. The man crouched down and turned Jean’s face towards him, his lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“My, my. You’re such a nuisance, you know?” He laughed. “Just tell us where your people are and you’re free. Are they really worth all this? I don’t think so, they aren’t even looking for you.”

The brunet looked up at the person that was Floch Forster, a man who betrayed the Survey Corps along with some others, and furrowed his brows in response. It could’ve been about a month already if Jean counted right and his chances of being rescued were shrinking with each passing day, but Jean wasn’t a person to lose hope. If his comrades didn’t come to help him out, he would find a way out by himself. Either worked fine.

“All of this could end right now,” Floch said while looking into Jean’s eyes. “You’re not who we are after. You don’t need to go through all this. If you tell me where the Commander is, I promise you will never have to see any of us again.”

“Fuck you.” Jean said very simply and spat into Floch’s face. “Different from you, I’m not a traitor.”

The redhead’s expression darkened at Jean’s action and his hand found its way around the other’s neck. “Hah, I just like being on the winning team. And I’ve been nice up until now but spitting at me? That’s intolerable.”

Before Jean had the chance to say much more, he was forcefully pressed down against the stone floor. Floch knelt down behind him and used his free hand to pull Jean’s underwear down.

“That needs to be punished, don’t you think?” He kept Jean pressed down against the ground and rubbed the tip of his member against his entrance.

Jean shivered in discomfort and cringed. That was about the most disgusting thing Floch could do, but not even that was enough to make Jean talk. He was convinced to keep quiet, especially in front of Floch.

“Just do what you have to do and leave me alone.” He muttered and closed his eyes. He wanted this to be over quick because any minute he spent without Floch around him was a minute well spent.

Floch didn’t need to be told twice.

Jean was left alone afterwards again and decided to lay on the mattress to spend the rest of the time there until he would fall asleep. It didn’t take long for him to do so and give his body and mind some rest.

When he woke up a few hours later, he was surprised to see that his blanket was draped over him. He blinked a couple of times before shrugging it off and looking around.

The second surprise was a person standing in his cell. After squinting a little, he saw that it was a very short person. The black hair gave it away and Jean slowly sat up. He winced a little, feeling sore, but managed to sit anyway.

“You look awful,” the ravenette hung up the torch on the wall and sat down in front of Jean.

“I’m sorry for not getting ready and greeting you properly,” Jean rolled his eyes.

Pieck giggled. “I forgive you, but only this once. Here, I brought you some stew. It’s still warm.” She carefully placed a tray in front of Jean as she said that.

He stared at the bowl of steaming stew and looked away. “I don’t want it,” he lied. The only things he got to eat were bread and sometimes an apple if he was lucky enough. Not that it affected him much, his titan powers allowed his endurance to grow stronger. He could stay weeks without food and would be fine if he wanted to. Not to mention that Pieck was the enemy.

A gorgeous, kind and caring enemy who brought him a little food whenever she came.

She was the only one who hadn’t made a wrong move on him yet. That didn’t earn her his full trust, however, he enjoyed her company. It was a nice change.

“It’s not poisoned or anything, look.” She scooped a spoonful of the stew and ate it, showing her empty mouth afterwards to prove her point. “It’s safe to eat and you need to eat something proper before you pass out or anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” he denied anyway and leaned his back against the wall. “Shifter and all.”

“I don’t care.” She lifted the bowl and filled the spoon with stew before holding it out for him. “Just eat it.”

“Will you tell me where we are if I eat it?”

“You know I can’t,” Pieck moved the spoon a little closer, “now open your mouth.”

Jean narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t deny that the stew smelled really good, and Pieck ate from it, it had to be safe. So he eventually opened his mouth and ate the spoonful, chewing it slowly while savoring the taste. It had vegetables and potatoes and even some meat. It’s been a while since he last had meat.

“...I can eat by myself.” He insisted and took the bowl and spoon from Pieck. It was a little embarrassing to be fed like a child.

Pieck let him and rested her hands on her lap. Her expression turned a little more serious, her brows furrowing. “What did Floch do?”

“The usual.” Jean replied nonchalantly.

“Can’t be, I don’t see any injuries…”

He paused to look up at her for a moment. “Healed. Not important.”

Pieck was quiet and lowered her gaze slightly. It seemed she put one and one together and didn’t need any further explanation.

As the cell fell into silence, Jean ate more of the stew, eating rather quickly so he would finish soon and avoid getting any of them in danger. But one question was on his mind.

“Why are you doing this?”

Pieck tilted her head. “Doing what?”

“Bringing me extra food and all… Is that your way of coaxing me to get information?” He raised a brow.

“Ouch, that’s not nice to hear. Although I understand why you think this way.” She shrugged and gave him a little smile, “that’s not my intention nor my job. I know we’re at war and that information is very precious but I do not like the way you’re being treated... You’re a human being just like the rest of us and I wouldn’t want one of my comrades to be treated like that if they were in a similar situation… So I’m trying to make it a little easier for you.”

Jean stared for a moment before he gave a nod and continued to eat. He wasn’t sure if Pieck’s words were genuine. She did sound like she meant what she said so, for the time being, he left it at that.

“Don’t you get in trouble for being here anyway? What if they find out you’re bringing me food?” Jean questioned next. Up until now, that was Pieck’s fourth or maybe fifth visit. She always brought him something small to eat. He did not want to draw any unnecessary attention.

“They won’t, it’s my turn to watch over the prisoners so I need to be here anyway.” She crossed her legs and leaned back against her palms. “And don’t worry about the food. I know what I’m doing.”

Jean was a little hesitant but nodded anyway. Nobody noticed that he was getting extra food or a chance to have a decent conversation with another person and he would rather keep it that way. “I see… I hope for you that this isn’t any kind of trick.”

“No way,” Pieck shook her head, “you’re too smart to play any tricks on. And I’m starting to like your company, so this is a win-win for both of us.”

“Mhm..”

The brunet was quick to finish the bowl and set it back down on the tray. “Thank you for the meal.”

Pieck smiled and leaned forward again. “You’re more than welcome. You know, talking with you is way more fun than talking with the others.”

“What, because I’m half naked?” He joked, making Pieck giggle.

“Of course not! Although I have to admit, that’s definitely a sight to behold,” she wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

Jean rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall again. He couldn’t help the little smile from forming on his lips.

“What I meant,” she said, “talking with you, it feels so different. Makes me feel careless. It’s like talking to a good friend.”

“A friend, huh…” Jean repeated before shrugging. He missed his friends, they were all precious to him. What he would give to see one of them now... It’s been so long.

“Is there anything else I can get you for today?” Pieck spoke while taking the tray and standing up.

“How about the keys for these?” He lifted one hand, making the chains rattle. “And a map?”

Pieck smiled with sympathy and grabbed the torch. “Dummy. You have the keys and map to my heart, that’s the only ones I can give you. You know that.” She hummed and walked out of the cell, making sure to lock it behind herself before waving. “See ya.” And she disappeared in the dark.

Jean watched her leave and exhaled deeply. He already knew Pieck wouldn’t give him any of these but it was still worth a try. Even if only to humor himself.

It was after Pieck’s visits that Jean felt a little better. It was like she was restoring his energy so he could make it through another day or week. Talking with her was so calm and without any pressure, it was so easy.

He might not fully trust her but he still looked forward to the next time he would be able to have a chat with Pieck.

A few days or so later, Jean didn’t know how long it was, Zeke personally came down to his cell. He was in charge of these people and the whole mission, Jean learned. He was the one who suggested kidnapping one of the shifters to turn the tables. This far, it didn’t appear to benefit him much since Jean didn’t give away any information and the Survey Corps had yet to make a move towards them.

The brunet glanced up when the door of his cell was unlocked and the tall blond walked inside. Behind him stood a few other soldiers with rifles pointed at him. He stared at them before shifting his gaze up at Zeke.

“Jean Kirstein, am I right? I gotta say I’m quite impressed.” The blond stopped right in front of Jean and rubbed over his beard.

Jean just stared, the indifference obvious on his expression.

“You’ve been here for more than two weeks and haven’t lost a word. That’s quite exceptional.”

Just two weeks? It felt so much longer. But then again, Jean lost every sense of time he had. He couldn’t even tell if it was day or night at the moment.

Zeke hummed and tilted his head. “Aren’t you a smart man? You should know that your friends will not find you here, never. And you should also know that we will not stop searching for them. We’re at advantage. If you tell us where they are, we will let you leave. I will even prepare you a lunch bag for the way, how does that sound?”

“You don’t think I believe you would really let me go, do you?” Jean raised a brow before a sly grin came to his lips. “Kick and punch me all you want, tell your men to rape me as many times as your sick brain feels like. Do whatever pleases you. You’re not getting anything out of me.”

It was Zeke’s turn to stare. His eye twitched a little. He cleared his throat and nodded, “I see. Then we just need to continue trying out new things until we find something that works. Or until I’m sick of it and just feed you to someone.”

He waved two fingers, making one of the soldiers at the door enter the cell with something in his hands. Once he was close enough, Jean could see that it was some kind of bottle with a colorless liquid inside. At first glance, it looked like a bottle of water.

But Zeke wasn’t that innocent.

“Have you ever touched sulfuric acid?” He took the bottle and opened it, crouching down in front of Jean.

Well, that made him a little tense.

“Curious to know what this does to the skin?” Zeke’s glasses reflected the light of the nearby torch. The grin on his face didn’t make the situation any better.

Jean clenched his teeth and glared. “Tsk…”

“Where is your base?” Zeke questioned.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you climb some trees and search for it, Monkey?” Jean spat, unintimidated.

And that was when Zeke splashed a generous amount of the acid over Jean. It hit his face, stomach, arms and legs, causing Jean to cry out loudly. Every single drop of the acid burned in such a cruel way, turning his skin into a bright red mess with many blisters. It burned mercilessly through his flesh and Jean felt every drop of it having its effect on him.

He groaned and panted heavily, biting his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his noises. His body naturally began regenerating and steam rose to the ceiling. Jean looked at Zeke, shot him a look of disgust.

“Did that help your memory?” Zeke questioned with a dark expression. “Will you tell me now?”

Jean took a few deep breaths. Then he smirked. “H-hah? That only tick-tickled a bit... You-you gotta try better.”

The blond snarled and grabbed Jean’s face with one hand, shoving the bottle into his mouth with the other. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind this!” He tilted Jean’s head up so the liquid would run down his throat.

Jean tried moving his face away somehow while he tried to scream and felt how the acid burned his insides. From his air pipe down to his lung and guts. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling at all. In fact, that was the worst kind of pain he had ever experienced. It was a hundred times worse than just getting the acid on his skin.

It felt like he was melting from the inside, like he was decomposing while the acid devoured his organs and bones. He wanted to cough and throw up and breathe at the same time, wanted to get the acid out again. But chained up and held in place, he had no chance to defend himself. And for a split second, he was considering Zeke’s offer. The pain messed with his mind.

When Zeke finally pulled the bottle away because it was empty, Jean fell back and began wheezing. Breathing was almost impossible now and Jean was on the brink of passing out. Even though his body was regenerating itself, it would surely take a while and the pain was unbearable.

Zeke said something Jean didn’t hear. A few moments later, he did pass out and laid sprawled out across the floor. His mouth hung open, steam passing his lips with his body’s desperate attempt to heal itself.

This was rough. This Zeke was insane, a maniac, and he was sure he would get to experience even more of these psychotic torture methods in the next days.

But as crazy as Zeke might be, Jean was stubborn and strong. He just needed to hold on. And maybe he needed to find a way to escape earlier before all of this could cost him his life and pain wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Jean groaned in discomfort and reached up a trembling hand to press it against his stomach. It already was much better from when the acid burned him but the soreness and irritation was still there. His body already healed most of the damage, Jean could tell, but it wasn’t fully done just yet.

His eyes blinked open tiredly to get a view of his surroundings. Still in the cell, still chained up. The only difference from the last time he was awake was that he was now laying on the mattress with the blanket over his body. There was something strange under his head too.

“Jean? Can you hear me?” He heard a tender voice by his side and turned his head slightly to look up at the person.

Upon seeing the worried expression on her face, Jean’s lips tugged into a tiny smile. “Your voice is… is soft like an angel’s... Not sure i-if I’m already dead…” He murmured and closed his eyes again.

“Oh, God… I’m so glad you finally woke up…” Pieck whispered, her hand coming up to run through Jean’s long hair.

“Don’t tell me... you were worried about the enemy. That’s.. That’s not how it works, Pieck.” He let out a small chuckle which ended in heavy coughing.

“Jean!” She exclaimed and turned him onto his side quickly, patting his back to help him ride out the cough. “Stop talking, you’re not in the condition to talk now. You need to rest so your body can focus on healing.”

Jean laid back once he got a grip of himself and let out a weak sigh. He glanced up at Pieck again and looked into her eyes. He wasn’t sure if he saw tears in them because he couldn’t focus too hard but it was easy to see that she was very sad.

“‘M fine,” he assured her and lifted his hand which Pieck took into her own. Her much smaller hands embraced his big one, squeezed him.

Pieck looked into his eyes and this time he saw rage in them, something he had never seen before. She always wore a smile on her face, so Jean never imagined how it’d look like if Pieck got angry. It was scary, in a way, to see her enraged, out of all people.

“You were unconscious for two days… Zeke went too far this time. He’s gotten so gruesome ever since all of this started, he’s not the person I once trusted anymore. I can’t trust someone who would go this far only for dumb information.” She stated, her voice loud enough for Jean to hear but still kept quiet.

“Jean.” She gave his hand another squeeze, “I’ll help you out of here. I thought Zeke was a good person- he’s clearly not. And I’m not gonna sit and watch how his actions will get worse from here on.”

Jean was silent for a moment, letting Pieck’s words process in his head. Surely, hearing that she would help him wasn’t what he expected, and he couldn’t tell if this was a trap or not. After what Zeke did, he had to be much more careful now.

“You just couldn’t resist my charm, could you?” He joked.

“Maybe that’s true too.” She reached one hand down and smoothed out Jean’s hair. “But I’m serious. You don’t deserve such treatment only because you're the ‘enemy’. I’ve made my decision.”

The brunet closed his eyes when he felt Pieck’s hand on his head. It’s been a while since he last received a tender touch and with Pieck it felt so right. He knew that it could be a trap but it was the most gorgeous and kindest trap ever.

For a moment, he wanted to believe Pieck’s words. Just for one moment.

When it was only him and her, Jean felt like everything was right. She always sounded so sincere and genuine and honest… always treated him as equal and even almost like a friend. Maybe that was how Pieck was and maybe she was honest about wanting to help him. This was a tough decision.

“Can you tell me where we are exactly?” He opened his eyes to look up at the ravenette, awaiting an answer from her.

Pieck gave a small nod. “We’re in an open area, about ten miles away from the nearest forest. They’ve spent weeks building this place to hold someone - preferably a shifter - captive. Right now, we’re underground. So if you planned to transform to leave, you’d have to get to the surface first or else you’ll be stuck in the ground. It’s too small.”

Her fingers entangled in his locks, giving him a few more strokes before she held Jean’s hand on her lap using both hands. “We’re pretty far away from any kind of civilization, so just running away won’t help, they’ll capture you again.” She explained, rubbing a thumb over Jean’s knuckles. “I would suggest going southwest, that’s where you can find the most people and hide until you know where to go.”

“I see.” He muttered and stared up at the ceiling in thought. If that was the case, he needed a plan to get out of the building and leave without anyone noticing to buy time. And he needed to be fully healed to be able to run that distance.

“I can sneak out the keys of your cuffs but I haven’t seen any kind of map here apart from the big one in Zeke’s room. I can’t give it to you but I will try to make a sketch of it for you from my memory.”

“Why?” Jean questioned, moving his gaze to her eyes. “Why are you doing all this for me? It can’t be only because Zeke poured acid over me. What’s the real reason behind all this?”

“...I don’t want Zeke to win. Not anymore. He’s my friend but his motives aren’t something I can agree on. If I can stop him or at least manipulate his plan somehow, I will.”

“What are his motives?” Jean was the one to squeeze her hand this time.

“...He wants to turn all subjects of Ymir infertile. He thinks that it’s better, that those who can turn into titans should no longer exist. He wants to rot them out and that’s wrong… but he won’t listen to anyone.”

“I see.” Jean said again and furrowed his brows a little. He didn’t only need to escape, they had to do something about Zeke and stop him. If his plan succeeded, it would be the worst outcome.

The brunet began pushing himself up into a sitting position, wincing a little when a particular move hurt too much. He exhaled carefully once he sat and glanced around the cell quietly.

While he looked around, he noticed that Pieck used her coat as a makeshift pillow for his head and couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she spoke the truth about wanting to help him out.

“Alright,” he looked up at Pieck, “will you be able to get me a sketch or something similar of the surroundings and this place by tomorrow? I’ll think of something to do against Zeke and his men.”

Pieck nodded. “I’ll do my best. And you don’t move around too much, your body needs to rest and heal.”

The brunet stared, a little deadpanned. He gave a short glance around the small cell, down to his cuffs and back up at Pieck. “Not like I have a choice?” He raised a brow in amusement.

“I meant it as in ‘don’t strain your body’.” She corrected.

Jean nodded quickly and held back a grin. “Oh, sure! I’ll just tell them not to beat me up too bad next time. Mhm, understood.”

“Jean!” Pieck pouted and gently slapped his arm. “You know what I meant, you big dummy.”

He let out a short chuckle. “I know, I’m just teasing you. By the way…” His voice became a bit more serious again, “what about you? I guess you will stay here?”

The ravenette gave a small shrug and looked around, scratching her head. “Not like I have a choice,” she repeated his words.

“Listen, if you really help me out of here and you really aren’t on Zeke’s side anymore…” he trailed off. “My people will understand. We can figure out something for you to stay with us, we could need someone intelligent and strong like you.”

“You expect your friends to welcome me with open arms after what I’ve done?” She tilted her head, brows furrowing.

“You were following orders.” Jean emphasized. “If what you’re saying about turning your back on Zeke is true, then I can talk with my people about this and we will figure out something. Whatever happens, I can assure you that you will not get this kind of treatment, even as one of Zeke’s soldiers.”

“Ah…” The ravenette looked down and scratched the back of her neck.

Jean reached out to touch her shoulder gently, making Pieck face him again. “I’m not telling you to make a decision right now. Zeke aside, I know you probably have close friends here. Just.. think about it and let me know once you made up your mind.” He offered.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy to just take her back with him, Jean knew that, but this place - and especially Zeke - were awful and someone this kindhearted like Pieck had nothing to do here. They could become really good friends if the circumstances were different, so Jean wanted her to go with him.

Not to mention that someone like Pieck would benefit them greatly. She was strong, she was smart. If Zeke lost her so suddenly, it’d be a big shock and a big disadvantage, that much was for sure.

Then again, only if what Pieck said was true.

Though, Pieck didn’t seem like the person who needed to lie to get what she wanted. Jean had a good feeling about it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, try to get enough rest.” She reached up to take the hand that was on her shoulder and pulled it down. Giving his hand a few gentle pats, she soon stood up and grabbed her coat as well.

Jean watched her stand up and gave a firm nod. “Be careful.”

After she left, Jean carefully laid down again and closed his eyes, both to let his body do the work of regenerating and to think deeply. He needed to concentrate and think of a plan.

#jeanpikuweek #jeanpiku #jean kirschtein #pieck finger #floch forster #zeke jaeger #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot #attack on titan #fanfic #my writing #i wasnt able to finish in time again but im happy i at least got something done #not 100% happy with it but it was now or never #plus jeanpiku needed some angsty stuff #aahh the first multi chapter fic i finish lmao #now its back to the old stuff oops

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