#ab probably still wants the world to burn but he cares for HIS humans and HIS team and HIS found family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carlisles-girl · 3 years

Note

OMG UR CAIUS FIC WAS SO GOOD COULD YOU DO SOMETHING AB ARO PLEASE

a/n: Thank you so much! I’m very excited to write for Aro, he’s one of my favourite characters, more so because of Michael Sheen’s performance. I put a slight reference to something in this, you might catch it if you know other projects Michael Sheen has been in, but you might not, and that’s alright. Hope you enjoy <3

another a/n: I did put one or two feminine terms in this work, such as ‘mia regina’ which is ‘my queen’ in Italian, so do skip over it or replace it with something else if you’d like. I love writing this type of material in the middle of my classes, it adds so much adrenaline to not get caught.

Aro Volturi With A Human Mate

Instead of being angry and frustrated like Caius, Aro was more excited.

Like as if he was getting ready for a big party.

A human for a mate was inevitable for some vampires, of course, but Aro didn’t expect to be included in the some.

He was excited since it was rare for such high profile vampires to socialize with humans.

Aro often gushed to his brothers, excited to meet you, but also for them to meet you.

He wanted to host a ball for your welcome.

But Marcus noted that it would probably be slightly frightening for you to be in a room full of vampires.

Most of the vampires would look at you as if you were some sort of a snack.

Because it Marcus’ comment, Aro assumed it would be a greater choice to send an invitation to a tour of the castle.

Free of cost, of course.

When you had received the invitation, you were beyond excited.

An invitation to a tour of an ancient castle with endless legends, for free?

Absolutely.

The tour was the next day, so of course you were slightly nervous.

When the tour commenced, a very pretty woman named Heidi lead the tour group.

She began to speak of secrets of the castle, as well as secret corridors and legends.

Some things a normal tour guide would most likely have no idea about.

Heidi then looked in your direction, and smiled brightly at you.

“It’s very lovely here. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Just when she had finished her sentence, she opened the doors where there were three men sitting in thrones, and what seemed to be 4 guards.

The man who sat in the middle, greeted everyone and began speaking greatly of the castle.

He had only stopped when he motioned for your tour guide, Heidi, to come forward.

She did as told, and held her hand out towards him.

You would have thought it was to greet him, but it seemed like he was concentrated, or zoned out.

“Magnifico! I will get Demetri to escort them.” (Translation: “Magnificent! I will get Demetri to escort them.”

A man who you assumed was Demetri, walked in your direction.

“Come with me, all will be alright, rest assured. However, do not look behind you.”

You went with him, doing as he said, but immediately turned around when the rest of the tour began screaming.

“What the hell was that?!”

Demetri just grabbed your wrist and brought you upstairs.

“Just stay in here, I’ve been instructed to keep you under my eye. Aro will explain everything to you.”

“Aro?”

“The man who sat in the middle throne.”

You nodded, and decided to sit on one of the window seats.

You wanted to ask Demetri as many questions as you wanted to, but you didn’t want to bother him, or disrupt him from his job.

When the door had opened and Demetri bid his farewells, you had turned around and saw Aro.

“You must be Y/n, correct?”

“Yeah, and you’re Aro?”

“I am, I assume you have a good amount of questions?”

You nodded, and Aro moved swiftly but smoothly towards the opposite side of the window seat.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

He sat opposite to you, and smiled slightly at you.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me, or the others. You’re the most safe you could ever be in the castle. I promise you, I will keep you safe.”

“May I ask why the rest of the tourists were screaming when I left?”

“I sense that that question should be answered later, appropriately.”

You were slightly frightened as to what the final answer would be, it could be anything.

Perhaps there was a reenactment of the past after you had been escorted, one of the tourists got pushed and the rest screamed since one of them fell, or the worst:

They were murdered.

“I feel like I already know what happened.”

“I sense that you do know, too. I will tell you everything in a moment. But for now, would you care to lend me your hand?”

You trusted Aro, though you were positive your ancestors were screaming from above or below not to trust him.

You held your hand out in front of him, and before he held your hand in his own, he asked for permission or something else.

“I want you to think of the happiest memory you have stored in your mind, I will describe it to you. I will not see anything else besides the things you want to show me, unless I have your permission.”

You thought of a memory, and then placed your hand in Aro’s palm.

He covered the back of your hand with the palm of his other hand, then he began telling you small details of your chosen memories you had even forgotten about.

When he was finished, he brought his head up from looking down, and smiled at your face of bewilderment.

“That is so cool! Is that like your superhero power?”

Aro smiled widely at your interest in his gift, and began explaining what his was.

“I have a gift, it’s called tactile telepathy. I can read everyone’s thoughts and memories with a single touch. The others in this coven have multiple different gifts, they help keep us safe.”

“So you’re all like superheroes?”

“Vampires, darling.”

After that, Aro enjoyed seeing your memories whenever you two were apart for some sort of time.

Especially say you were having a difficult time attempting to explain something to him, he would hold your hand and immediately understand what you were trying to say.

“I understand you, cara mia. I always will.”

And he was right, he understands you in every way possible.

Aro memorized your body language on how you react to different things, as well as your facial expressions.

When you’re uncomfortable with something, he will do absolutely everything in his power to make you comfortable.

Aro will burn down the entire world for you.

When it’s time for you to go to sleep, you best believe that Aro set up the most lavish and comfortable room for you.

The best and most comfortable bed, of course.

You lay down on his chest, and he brushes the hair out of your face, admiring your tired eyes looking back at him.

“Would you like for me to read to you, dearest?”

You nodded your head, and Aro would get up from wherever he was seated, swiftly retrieve a book, lay back down next to you, and begin reading.

He loved having you hold his hand while he read, it lets him see what you’re imagining the scene that he’s reading to you.

And when you fell asleep while he was reading, he would be so very content.

You curled up next to him, sound asleep on his chest.

Aro adored seeing what you were dreaming.

He loved how humans brains worked while they were sleeping, keeping your mind entertained with multiple little scenarios.

When you woke up, however, Aro would prefer to have you describe your dreams, if you remembered them.

He loved to learn more about humans, especially in the modern age.

And you loved to learn more about vampires, especially in the ancient times.

Aro would often tell you stories of each coven he encountered, his old family and friends, and his past human life.

As much as he wants you to be changed into a vampire like the rest, he can’t help but smile whenever you got slightly nervous around him, stuttering over your words, and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

He pays attention to little details about you.

Especially your eyes.

Even the shade of your eyes stops him from changing you. Your eyes wouldn’t be as unique anymore, they’d be the same red as everyone else’s.

“You have the most magnificent shade of colour in your eyes, mia regina. I simply cannot get enough of them.”

Being absolute best friends with Demetri.

But wherever Demetri was, Felix wasn’t too far behind.

You three are like a troublemaker trio, always causing trouble and pulling pranks on different members of the guard.

Never Jane or Alec, though. Unless it was a scheduled board game night or something along the lines.

Which Alec loved to take away different players senses, allowing him to cheat in the games you’d play.

He doesn’t do it all the time, though.

Marcus was a lot more welcoming towards you, perhaps more than anyone else.

Whenever Aro couldn’t, he’d show you different areas of the castle you hadn’t seen yet, and would give you wonderful pieces of advice along the way.

“Remember to stay true to yourself, never let anyone think for you.”

Aro will spoil you insanely.

If you mention a specific piece of clothing even once, you better expect that when you wake up the next morning, Aro has an elegantly wrapped package placed at the foot of your bed with a note written in fine handwriting.

“Mia amato, I have seen you speak of this article of fabric, and I have gone out of my way to make sure you have every little thing you admire. I need you to be the happiest you can possibly be. Please accept my gift, and meet me by the gardens by noon. I’ll see you then. Cordialmente, Aro.”

You two have annual walks throughout the garden, usually during golden hour. The sun still above, but setting at the same time, making it seem like Aro was made of a trillion Tiffany Yellow Diamonds.

He loved finding a flower that suited your mood for the day, and putting it behind your ear.

“My beautiful.”

You two often walked either arm in arm, or hand in hand, but sometimes you would hold him closer with your arm wrapped around his waist, your head leaning on his side or shoulder.

Often times, when the moon is visible, you would slow dance together, looking at each other with smiles on your faces, just appreciating each other’s presence.

Usually, Aro would come back into the castle around 2 in the morning, carrying your sleeping self up to your shared room, after you had fallen asleep on his shoulder while sitting in the garden.

The rest of the kings and guards would be predominantly more happy than from before you had arrived.

You had given Aro something to look forward to after trials and mountains of work, something he didn’t have for hundreds of years.

Though, Caius was still slightly jealous of you.

You had practically stolen one, if the not the most, needed member of the vampire world. Aro was nearly as focused on you than he was on trials and legislature.

He’d warm up to you eventually.

At least, you hoped.

Speaking of trials, you wanted to sit in and watch the trials, to see what it was about, and how it worked.

You knew the most of it, of course, Aro had already told you. But you wanted to see it live.

Aro was quick to say no, he didn’t want you to get hurt, or worse, killed.

He understood what would happen to him if his mate was killed, Marcus was the example. He couldn’t even bear the thought of you not being by his side.

Though, you owning the key to his heart, convinced him to let you watch, letting both Jane and Alec stay on either side of you, protecting you if anything were to go wrong.

You would usually sit on Aro’s lap, and then the throne when he had to see what was truly going on by using his gift.

Jane usually stood on the left of the throne, and Alec on the right.

Mainly since Caius sat on the throne in the left, and Jane loved to torture the criminals.

He loved the front seat view.

Constant look backs of reassurance to make sure that you’re alright.

Nearly always having your hand in his.

Forehead kisses.

Constantly bringing the back of your hand up to his lips.

Getting the absolute best care in the world, health wise especially.

When Aro proposed, it was in the bedroom the both of you share, and he was reading some poetry to you.

All was going swell, and then he got to one page.

“I can write no stately poem

As a prelude to my lay;

From a poet to a poem

I would dare to say.

For if of these fallen petals

One to you seem fair

Love will waft it till it settles

On your hair.

And when wind and winter harden

All the loveless land.

It will whisper of the garden,

You will understand.”

At the end, you were leaned up closer to him, looking at him in awe.

He closed the book, and placed it aside gracefully, before leaning slightly closer to you. Placing his hands overs yours.

“Do you remember who wrote that, cara mia?”

“I do. That’s Oscar Wilde, right?”

“That’s right. There’s so much I want to say to you, especially in this particular moment, but I don’t think there’s enough words to express my love and affection towards you. I’ve known you for a little while, and I can feel the bond between us, and I know you can feel it, too. The universe has guided us together, and I am so very thankful for every second we have spent together, and I’m even more thankful for the rest of eternity we have. However, I am the most thankful of the fact that I have the most gorgeous human as a mate. I love you so much, anima mia. Will you do me the best thing that could ever happen to me in my thousands of years, and marry me?”

You said yes, obviously, who wouldn’t?

You leaned over to press your lips against his, as he held one side of your face with one hand, and the other hand slid a ring on your ring finger.

While Aro wanted an extremely lavish wedding, with all the diamonds in the world, you wanted something more of a homely essence.

So you compromised, and had a bit of both.

Aro invited nearly every vampire to the wedding, wanting to show you off in every way he could.

The Denali’s, Cullens, Irish coven, everyone was invited.

Except for the Romanian coven, Vladimir and Stefan. Not trusting them to be in your presence.

The wedding was held in the garden, the arch where Aro stood had your favourite flowers intertwining around it, with diamonds pressed in the centre of each individual flower.

Demetri walked you down the isle, smiling proudly when he handed you over to Aro.

Proud that his leader had finally found true love, and that one of his best friends is finally where they need to be.

After the official wedding ceremony, the rest of the night and day were spent smiling and showing off each other to the guests.

When the night ended, it was finally time for you to be changed to a vampire.

Aro sat by the bed were sitting on, making sure that you were absolutely ready to be converted to a vampire for the rest of eternity.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

You nodded your head, and Aro took one final look into your coloured eyes, attempting to remember every small detail of them.

Aro then moved your hair away from your neck, before placing his lips over where he would finally bite down and turn you immortal.

“Just say when, and I’ll see you after.”

#twilight x reader #twilight preferences #twilight #twilight imagine #aro volturi #aro twilight #volturi preferences #volturi kings #aro #volturi #aro volturi imagine #aro volturi x reader #aro volturi oneshot #twilight aro #volturi oneshot #volturi imagine

836 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

689 notes · View notes

silvermoonflowers · 3 years

Text

Moonflower Act IV

Priestess!Reader x Demon!Bucky

Summary: Just a cute little date between you and a handsome demon

Warnings: Lots of fluff, James being a relentless flirt, and the Reader being a bit feisty

Act III

You smiled happily as you pulled out a tray of freshly baked cream puffs from the stove.

Everybody, except you, was out for the day. A High Priestess from the Moon Temple had arrived and asked Nicole to come over so she could help her out with her spiritual powers. Although you wanted to be with Nicole so you could assist her too, the High Priestess gave you a sharp reprimand about performing your duties first. Meanwhile, Sam and the others were in a meeting with the King (for knights only apparently), leaving you the only one at the residence.

Oh well.

So far, you haven’t sensed any bad omens and there weren’t reports of demon sightings. You would’ve taken a walk to see Emily, but at that moment, it began to rain heavily. Great, just great. You glumly sat in the kitchen for a while before your eye caught a jar of flour. Since you didn’t know how long it would be before your family returned, you thought you would make some pastries as a welcome home gift for them.

As you waited for the pastries to cool, your mind began to wonder back to a certain demon.

You were still a bit wary of James due to his true nature. And you only saw him a few times, with those meetings being short and somewhat cryptid, which still mystified you. You suppose it because he was a demon. He probably didn’t want to stay around without a knight or demon hunter noticing him and then trying to kill him.

And yet…

You sighed. In spite of his true nature, James was certainly beautiful and charismatic. His deep, smooth voice did wonders to you and you longed to be in his arms again. Just being with him gave you so much comfort in a world filled with grief and suffering.

I wonder if my family is alright if I let James stay at our house?

You frowned deeply. That was one of the few things that was in your mind all week now. No matter how much you wanted James to stay with you, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Because of so many past incidents, you and your family were distrustful of all demons, whether they were noble or not. But all James had ever shown you was kindness, which made you change your mind a bit. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

Now was not the time for confusing thoughts.

You swiftly turned to a cabinet, intending to get a large plate to put the cream puffs on when the temperature suddenly became cold. That was surely a sign that a demon was going to appear. But the chilling presence was more comforting than threatening, which made you know who it was. You shuddered from delight as he made himself known.

“My, my what a sweet scent,” James purred as he leaned against one of the walls.

You didn’t turn around at first. Instead you took your time to get the plate. You weren’t actually ready to face him yet.

“James, hello...you could’ve knocked, you know…” You muttered as you pushed aside stacks of small bowls and small plates.

There was a chuckle. “Hello to you too, my dear Priestess. And I would, however it’s raining. So I’d rather not get myself wet.”

“Yeah...true...well..umm...w-what the - hey!” When you turned around, your face began to burn with embarrassment almost immediately.

James had already grabbed one of the cream puffs and was casually munching on it. However, that wasn’t the only thing that made you seethe. Now that you met him again, but this time in broad daylight and without a cloak covering him, you could clearly see what he was wearing. He was wearing rather tight clothing, which made you wonder how he could move in them considering how muscular he was. Well, his shirt must’ve been that tight, since he didn’t bother to button up, exposing his well-built torso to you.

You huffed. He had to have done that on purpose.

“J-James, I don’t mind if you eat the food, but you should’ve asked first!” You hissed as you tried so hard not to look at his chest.

James merely smirked at you as he took another bite. “Sorry dear, they just look so delicious. Do you need help by the way?”

“Oh no...thanks, I’m fine…”

The audacity of him...first he entered your home, (no, you weren’t counting the first time since he was there to save Nicole) while revealing his torso to you and then he took a pastry without asking you first. Well...James was a demon, so being mischievous was not uncommon to him, but still…

“Alright, if you say so. Do you mind if I take another one then, please?” James grinned, revealing a pair of sharp teeth, a hint of his true nature. You narrowed your eyes at him. But it wasn’t so much of his demonic features scaring you. No, he would never hurt you. It was more of the fact that he was teasing you.

“Yeah...well...whatever,” You mumble as you set the plate down and began piling the rest of the now cooled cream puffs on it. “But you better not eat them all. Save some for the family, too!”

“Thanks,” He purred as he plucked another pastry from the plate. “You’re such a doll.”

At the affectionate nickname, you nearly dropped the plate in shock. You had to bend down awkwardly in order to balance the plate. Thankfully, neither the plate nor the pastries fell to the floor. But now you just realized that you made a fool of yourself in front of James. His snicker obviously confirmed that.

“Wow Priestess, you sure are clumsy~~” “Shut up!” In your frustration, you threw a cream puff at James. He caught it with ease while you scowled. You didn’t mean to throw the pastry at him. You just wanted to get rid of James’ teasing smirk off of his beautiful face.

“Another one? Aww thanks~~”

You sucked in a breath while setting the plate of pastries down a little too hard on the table. Why were you even acting irritated in the first place? You did want to see James again and your wish was indeed granted. Even if he did come into your house unexpectedly...

It was probably because James was practically shirtless that threw you off.

“James,” Your shoulders sagged a bit. ”...I’m sorry for being...mad at you just now. I really am glad to see you, you know..”

“Nah,” His voice suddenly became soft. “I think I went too far in teasing you.”

“I-it’s fine…”

There was now an awkward silence between the two of you with you clasping your hands together rather tightly and James finishing off the pastries. The rain was the only sound that filled the silence. You hoped James wasn’t too upset with you because of your fiery outburst.

“S-So, uhh...y-you want some...t-tea?” You wanted to cringe at how much you were stammering, but James didn’t seem to notice as he nodded.

While you prepared two cups of jasmine tea, you kept sneaking glances back at James who was now staring off into space. Now would probably be a great time to start an actual conversation.

“So…” You trailed off for a second before the words came into your mind. “James…you need me for something?”

He smirked. “I just want to see if you’re alright, my dear Priestess~” You blushed. “Oh well...thank you. I’m glad to see you’re alright too. So w-where do you uhh live?” It may seem like a strange question, but even demons had to hide somewhere.

“Ah, I actually live in an inn not too far from here.”

“You’re okay with living among humans?” You looked at him incredulously while handing him a cup of tea. It’s a wonder for him to be staying at a place where both mercenaries and demons hunters would often hang out.

He shrugged. “It’s better to be there than to be at my...uh...old home?”

You weren’t even going to question what James referred to as his “old home” as you already had the dreadful idea of what it was.

“However, the owners do know that I’m a demon.”

“What? How?”

James gave you a rather sheepish grin. “Let’s just say I accidentally revealed my true form to the owners when I saved them from a close encounter with a demon. But the owners don’t seem to care about that though. They just endlessly thanked me for saving them. They promised to keep it a secret and let me stay at their place for as long as I want. I kinda felt bad that I was staying there for so long. So I decided to get rid of any demon that came too close to the inn, even though the owners insisted that I don’t have to.”

“Oh, that’s nice. But what about the mercenaries?”

James scoffed as he took a sip of his tea. “You mean the ones who are so arrogant and are only doing it for attention than actually helping their fellow humans? I don’t even come near them. All they do is constantly brag about their victories and demand for more money. It’s irritating as hell.”

You let out a giggle and then quickly pursed your lips. But more giggles erupted. You had to set your teacup down so the drink wouldn’t spill on your dress. The way James looked so grumpy was such a contrast to his handsome, charismatic self. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips formed a cute pout. However, he did have a point about certain mercenaries. You had only fought alongside them at least three times and all three times nearly ended in disaster. Two of them even demanded for yours’ and Nicole’s hand in marriage, much to your family’s chagrin.

As you recovered from your giggling fit, you heard a teacup being set down. You looked up, only for your eyes to widen. James’ chest was suddenly right in front of your face. When did he get so close to you without you even noticing?

Your eyes trailed down to his abs. Oh, his abs looked nice enough to touch. And damn, those dark pants really are tight on him. But before you could look any further, a cold hand tilted your chin.

“Ah-ah, eyes up here.”

There was a twinkle of amusement in James’ blue eyes and you felt both shy and a bit of fury rising within you. Shy because of what you assume is James going to kiss you and fury because of how relentless he was in teasing you. How long was this guy going to make you blush?!

His hand slid up to your cheek and stayed there. Then his long fingers began to gently caress your skin and you had to bite your lips from letting out a breathy sigh. The sensation was cold, so cold, and yet...so nice.

“I have something for you,” James’ voice was a mere whisper now. His hand disappeared from your cheek as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and gave it to you. The box was wrapped in what seemed like expensive gift paper and it was pretty lightweight.

“W-what is it?”

James only smiled. “Open it.”

You set the box on the table and unwrapped it. A gasp left your throat when the gift was revealed. It was a beautiful ring and a very expensive one at that. The band was made out of rose gold. Resting on top of the band was a shining diamond, surrounded by crystalline petals that appeared to be in the shape of a moonflower. A moonflower ring. The same ones that you saw whenever you and Nicole visited the jewelry market. You swallowed hard before turning to James, whose smile grew.

“Oh...J-James...thank you. But...how can you afford it? This is really expensive -”

James winked at you. “I’m a demon, remember? I can summon money out of thin air.”

Yeah, but for a price… You thought bitterly as you remembered trying to save someone who was foolish enough to make a deal with a demon. But James definitely wasn’t that cruel to do something like that…

“Oh, James...thank you so much.” You closed the box and held it close to your chest. “But you didn’t have to…” You didn’t know why, but you felt bad that James bought something that cost so much.

“Oh, come now, dear Priestess,” James said in a low voice as he took a step closer to you. His hands slid over your shoulders and pulled you into his bare chest. With your cheek pressed against his cold skin, you nearly fainted. Dammit, just why was James so handsome and sultry?!

“This gift is a symbol of my love for you. So I hope you enjoy my gift. Please, cherish it forever.” At the word “love”, your heart nearly skipped a beat. You felt James press a kiss to your forehead, making you blush even more. “Thanks for the tea and pastries, doll.”

Then just like that fateful night from before, James took a few steps back, never taking his eyes off of you. But this time, you took a step forward, your free hand outstretched towards him. He smiled and brushed his fingers over your hand before he took one last step into a shadowy corner.

“I’ll see you again, my dear Priestess.” Before you could say something, he disappeared. For a while, you stared at the spot where he disappeared, with your face burning hot and the box clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, we’re home! Boy, is it raining hard!” Sam called out from the main corridor, startling you. “Oh what’s that sweet scent?”

You quickly hide the box behind a shelf before going into the corridor to greet your family.

“Welcome back, everyone!”

*~*~*

There was only darkness when the demon entered the old mansion. But he didn’t mind. The darkness felt like home to him. It’s a relief from the annoying sunlight that had peeked out from the clouds now.

“Master,” he called out. “I have returned.”

Footsteps echoed and in the sliver of sunlight, another demon appeared. He looked much more ancient compared to the one who stood before him.

“Welcome back,” his master said. He then frowned rather deeply. “However next time, use the mirror to enter through here. You don’t want to get the attention of the humans, do you?”

The demon scoffed, but then shook his head quickly when his master gave him a look of disapproval.

“So...” the demon began when his master continued to stare at him. “I’ve done it.”

His master’s normally cold expression lightened. “Oh? Good. Very good.”

The demon could see the eagerness in his master’s eyes and he couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful.

“Then your next task is to try to find a way to get as close as possible to the Priestess and her sister. But remember, you must be very, very subtle about it. The slightest mishap and it could be your downfall. Then when they truly put their trust into you, kill them both. Ran’s lineage ends with their deaths. The Kingdom of Larissa will finally be ours.”

Already tasting the glory of victory, the demon smirked and gave a rather mocking bow to his master. “As you wish.”

#demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x y/n #writings

47 notes · View notes

oh-boy-me · 4 years

Note

Okay I see your armadillo and I raise you MC convincing Diavolo to go on a field trip to Australia to see all the animals. Whatever happens the emu win.

Hey anon I swear I didn’t mean for this to get so long but I started writing it and then just didn’t stop, thank you for making me think about this.

It took about half a semester of begging for Diavolo to agree to organize a field trip to the Human World.

Scrap that, it took about half a semester of begging for Lucifer to bring up the idea with Diavolo. Diavolo agreed immediately. He discussed it further with MC, and they settled on a trip to Australia. The continent was different from anywhere else in the world due to its geographic isolation. There was a good chance that it would be a learning experience for even the oldest among them.

In truth, Diavolo just wanted to see a kangaroo.

The group had a moment to rest and plan their trip as they waited for Barbatos to return from Brisbane (Asmo was not going to camp, thank you very much, do you know how dry the air is here? And the dust? Lucifer wasn’t complaining about his insistence on a B&B.)

Lucifer went over, for the seventh time that hour, his mental list of every common dangerous animal on the island. There were so many. Too many. The sheer number of creatures that had a “toxic” or “aggressive” warning was enough to give him a migraine. MC did their best to assure him that as long as they were careful, everything would be fine, but. “Look at our group, MC,” he broadly gestured around them, “and tell me that they’ll be careful.”

While Lucifer was fretting over his brothers, Satan was the one doing the actual damage control. No, Mammon, there isn’t gold “right below our feet.” Beel, there better be nothing more than processed foods in that bag of yours—I read that bringing fruits into the country is illegal. Levi, you’ll have wifi at the hotel, stop complaining for one minute.

He was probably the most excited about the trip next to Diavolo, but he played it cool.

Asmo and Belphie were being relatively well-behaved, listening to Solomon’s tales of his adolescent years in Sydney. Satan thought he said he grew up in Damascus. Mammon was told Vancouver. Solomon only hummed when questioned.

Just as Lucifer was about to suggest they just go home because hey Diavolo did you know that not only are the snakes here incredibly venomous, but my brothers are also idiots, Barbatos returned, and they got to the items on Diavolo’s agenda.

The only item on the agenda was “see cool animals,” but nobody needed to know that.

Barbatos knew. He made a backup plan just in case.

Lucky for them, Simeon’s mere presence seemed to calm the animals enough that they didn’t run away when stumbled upon, so they saw a whole bunch. How does he do it? At one point they aggroed a rather large spider, and he just smiled at it and it stood down and wandered off. What sort of godly power is this?

Overhead, some koalas slumber. Mammon is quickly overwhelmed by how cute they are and wonders if human world stuffed toys could become a whole line. MC feels phantom pain in their hands when he glances at them with a grin.

MC explains that koalas only eat one type of leaf. Beel reaches up and shoves a handful in his mouth. They taste very clean, he declares, but he couldn’t imagine only eating this for every meal. Solomon adds that eucalyptus leaves are toxic to humans. Lucifer has his first heart attack of the day.

“Eeek, a scorpion!” “Asmo you’re a scorpion.”

Asmo isn’t enjoying this very much at all. His feet hurt from standing, there’s dust all over his designer jeans, and he can feel the sun burning his shoulders. The animals look nice and all, but he’s more interested in getting Solomon and MC to go clubbing with him that night than in the present moment.

Levi wasn’t paying any attention to the trip, until he heard Simeon say, “oh goodness, hello there little echidna.” Then he’s the most alert of them all. “YOU MEAN LIKE KNUCKLES?!” Oh, there’s a spirit in Mononoke Land based on Koalas! It’s from the Yorana region which is Gen 7 so it’s not in the app yet, he wouldn’t expect MC to know about that.

Lucifer distracts himself from his constant sense of dread by comparing Luke to the dingoes they stumbled upon. Luke’s complaints are almost loud enough to nullify Simeon’s calming presence. He clings to MC, as if they can protect him from Lucifer’s words, and Mammon clings to MC’s other side in protest.

Belphie has so far fallen asleep on seven rocks that snakes were hiding under. The snakes always go out to investigate him, and Lucifer always adds another heart attack to the list. Solomon says that one of the snakes was a “common death adder,” and Lucifer was just barely visibly distressed. Belphegor is now falling asleep on rocks on purpose, because the combination of Solomon’s fake snake names and Lucifer’s minute squirming is too good to pass up on.

Satan somehow simultaneously knows all sorts of information on the wildlife and is fully overtaken with childlike wonder. Yes, he saw kangaroos and koalas and the like in pictures, but in real life they look so unique and cute and he wants to pet everything, he wants to give them cuddles they are baby!!!

Speaking of kangaroos, Diavolo is aggressively pointing in the direction of what looks like it could be one. “Look at it!” he exclaims. “It’s so little and fuzzy! Lucifer, Barbatos, look, look! Do you think it has a baby in its pouch?”

“If it does, then we best not disturb it, My Lord.” Barbatos has steered Diavolo away from about fifty poor animals so far. It’s far more entertaining than his usual tasks of steering Diavolo away from things in the Devildom, so he’s actually quite satisfied with how the day has gone so far. If eucalyptus is toxic to humans but not demons, he’s thought of several recipes he could try out already. If it’s toxic to demons too, well, there are still uses for it.

Solomon eyes the pouched creature and chuckles a bit, which leaves everyone but Diavolo and Levi on edge for the next two hours.

The rest of the day progresses in a similar manner and with no serious issues. After asserting that everyone is rather tired from the day’s adventure and in no mood to go clubbing, Asmo, they split up into their rooms for the night.

That isn’t to say that Asmo has given up on clubbing, though. Even if he has to sneak out and go all by himself, he’s in the mood to get a taste of Australian nightlife. So, after what he assumes is enough time for everyone to fall asleep, he makes his way to the sliding door in the back.

Everyone is awoken by a scream coming from the kitchen.

Mammon sprints over to see why Asmo is screaming, only to scream as well. Luke screams. Diavolo screams. Lucifer has a sixteenth heart attack. This continues for a while. “What is THAT?!” Asmo points out the door at the creature with one clawed hand against the glass.

“Oh, it’s a kangaroo,” Solomon says matter-of-factly. Yes, it turns out that what Diavolo had thought was a kangaroo was actually a wallaby. Diavolo was thrilled to see a real kangaroo. It was so much better than he had imagined, and so much better than the wallaby.

“That’s not a kangaroo!” Asmodeus wails. “It’s got abs and a chiseled jawline! It looks like it could bench press me; that thing’s some sort of mutated man!” Beel leads Asmo away and back to bed. Asmo swears to never go outside ever again and insists on sleeping in Beel and Belphie’s room–at least those are abs that he’s familiar with.

Not one to forget that this was technically a school field trip, Lucifer assigns everyone a simple research project as a reflection after they return to the Devildom. Belphie is a little horrified to learn that the “common death adder” is in fact a real snake.

Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

springalwayscomes · 3 years

Text

WAP

Plot: Christmas this year seems to be the gloomiest ever... until your boyfriend decides he wants to make you smile, and trust me when I say he would do anything for it.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship

Wordcount: 1.3k

Content Warning: Stripping, sexual tension

Author’s Note: I hope this will make you smile, I can actually picture Hobi doing something like this ㅋㅋ

Another huff escapes your lips as you stare at the empty table. This year Christamas feels so sad, seeing your house all empty and cold makes you squeeze yourself more in your jumper. You were supposed to spend this day with the rest of the boys, have fun like every other year and enjoy each other’s company, like everyone else. However, Corona Virus had different plans for the world, so you just ended up staying at home with your boyfriend. It’s weird to not be in each other’s presence at this time of the year, you miss the warm feeling of family, laughing until you cry - or until you pee yourself, it only happened once, you swear -.

The fact that your boyfriend is locked in your bedroom from at least thirty minutes makes you deprime even more as you blandly sweep the floor, you don’t need all this time alone right now. It’s just going to make you feel more sad, so you decide to go upstairs to see what he’s been up to. It’s weird for Hobi to be so silent, he usually likes to play music out loud when he’s at home and in your bedroom alone. The fact that he’s been so silent for thirty minutes and that he’s like this on Christmas Day makes you worry just a little bit as you knock at the door of your bedroom.

The snort that comes at the sound from inside makes you furrow your eyebrows.

«Hobi? ‘You okay?» you ask. You wait for him to answer, but silence is the only thing you receive, so you decide to swing the door open-

«Oh my God!»

You can’t believe what you’re looking at. Your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you dressed head to toe as an elf, eyes already on you and trying to hold back a laughter. Useless to say, holding back a laughter for Hoseok is as impossible as for a human to fly, and when he bursts out you do the same. You hold your belly with your hands as he gets closer and closer, laughing for who the hell knows what. He’s not the type to feel uncomfortable dressed like this - even though it’s the first time he does something like this on Christmas -, and the look on his face as he laughs is one of those that doesn’t reveal any kind of informations.

«What-» you cut yourself off when he places his hands on your shoulders, shutting his mouth as a desperate attempt to stop laughing, face red and eyes glossy. He looks at you from up, guiding you fully into the room, every step seems to be insecure as his mind wanders who knows where.

«Sit here» he’s still chuckling as he lightly pushes you onto the bed making you sit on the edge of the mattress. You take in the full sight in front of you only now: green shirt with incredibly big red buttons, shorts as the same color of the buttons and a thick brown belt that looks like it’s made of plastic, the pointed elf shoes seem to be three times bigger than his feet and the hat on his head makes him look so cute that you’d die only to squeeze his cheeks.

Hobi wards off, stepping towards your nightstand in his big shoes until he reaches the Bluetooth speaker. He grabs his phone from the pocket of the shorts and a second later WAP is filling the air of your bedroom and make your hair stand on edge. He’s obsessed with this song, the way he would often try to rap naughty words in English always makes you laugh.

Hoseok turns around, slowly and desperately trying not to burst out in a laughter, it makes you giggle once again as he steps back to you.

«You said you were sad,» his voice is on the edge, it shakes as he tries not to laugh with you «so I thought...»

«Thought what?» you ask, finally gaining back your seriousness. His cheeks lift up, two beautiful dimples gracing his face as he thinks of what to say. The thought he did all of this just to make you smile already makes you happy, he wouldn’t need to do anything else. Seeing him being so cute in this elf custom already cured your quarantine depression and you’re sure will make you smile until the day you’re done breathing.

«Just watch, okay?»

And like that, he starts dancing. His body starts moving and you loose control of yourself, totally filled with laughter and joy as you watch him move his hips in a sexual manner. Long gone is the gloomy feeling of being in an empty house at Christmas, now the room feels way to small to contain you two as he desperately tries to maintain a stern expression, still swinging his hips and raising his brows quickly enough to make you laugh even louder. Hoseok gets closer and closer, the disguise he’s wearing makes it all even funnier, in fact if it wasn’t for it you would probably be staring at his muscles flex under the clothes.

«Hobi» you call out, holding your stomach in your hands still laughing like an idiot. Your boyfriend doesn’t answer, he just gets closer again as he keeps dancing, this time bringing his hands to the edge of the green shirt. Your mouth falls open as you watch him slowly - very slowly - lifting it up and revealing his abs, twitching as his hips keep moving. It’s a weird combo seeing him dress like this and moving so sensually, but you don’t complain.

«Are you stripping for me?» you giggle as he raises his shirt more and more, eyes focused on you and big smile on his face threatening to burst into a laughter.

«Isn’t it obvious?» he stops his movements, surrendering to the laughter that has been threatening him for all this time. The way his eyes crinkle and his white teeth show on full display lights up a new loving sentiment in your chest, the fondness you feel for him reaching its peak as you hear him laugh out loud, the best sound you’ve ever heard.

«I need to be serious» he mumbles between laughters, his tone screaming nothing but happiness. You shake your head as he starts dancing again, finally removing the green shirt with a quick and skilled movement that makes you both laugh and stare. His abs keep twitching as he swings his hips and you can feel his gaze on you as you raise yours, his dark amused eyes looking at you as he smiles widely.

«I’m happy,» you let out «I’m happy»

Hobi licks his lips, bringing his hands to the waste-bend of the shorts.

«Happy is not enough» he’s doing all he can not to burst out laughing again, his hands slowly pushing the shorts lower and lower until they reach his thighs and eventually fall to the ground.

«Oh God» you don’t know anymore what to do, and you can’t deny that your cheeks are starting to burn. His movements are so freaking sensual that you already feel you panties getting wet but the situation only makes you laugh.

«Please, just come here»

«I want to make you laugh more» he responds, his full cheeks reddening as he shakes his head to himself at what he’s doing. A second later his pointed shoes are long forgotten on the ground and when you get up from your spot on the bed Hobi feels the need to hug you tighter than ever.

«You always make me laugh»

You stop in front of him, WAP still playing in the background as your eyes meet him once again. Hoseok is hopeless, shameless when it comes to you, and the fact that he knows it only makes it more dangerous to him. He doesn’t care if the next time he will have to dress as a clown and strip to make you smile, he’d do it without even thinking about it twice.

«I just want to see you happy» he glares at you, fondness shining in his big sparkling eyes. And you can’t hold back anymore, immediately placing your lips on his, where they belong. Tongues searching each others and breaths soon becoming too short.

«You’re really obsessed with this song»

you murmur. Hobi’s laugh makes you laugh too, just like always. He’s your sun.

Life Goes On Project Masterlist

55 notes · View notes

cockasinthebird · 4 years

Note

okay!!!! so!!! i guess it’s kind of a prompt, but like steve goes to an art college thing. and he’s suuuper talented, one of the best in his class. and the prof. says that they have a guest to come in for some modelling. and steve is super excite ‘cause he loves doing projects like this. and then the model comes in, covered in a bathrobe, it’s billy. he goes to sit on the stool at the front. drops the robe, he’s completely nude. looks steve directly in the eye and winks! just an idea i had! -🎨

Dear anon, !!!!!!! This took SO LONG, but then again I was flagged and unavailable for like two weeks, and I did not write at all in that time, but as I woke up today to find myself back to normal, I quickly finished what was left, and now 11 pages long, I will post some of it here, then link the rest on my AO3!

My mind went off on this, and I hope it’s as good as I believe, especially what with all the teasing I’ve been doing!

Now, enjoy~

An arts scholarship is not something everyone can brag about, well, almost everyone, or so Steve thought when he got approved for one after his high school teacher encouraged him to apply.

He’s not dumb, or unintelligent, as most people around him will say - the words on the pages just don’t connect right, as if he can’t see what any other person might perceive, and it is reflected on his grades. Math is… fine, the only issue there is a general unwillingness to learn, because rather than doing algebra and figuring out trigonometry, Steve’s talents lie in the stroke of a brush, in the graphite of a pencil, in the black of charcoal.

His mother always encouraged him with a loving hand and a wondrous appreciation for every single little drawing Steve came up with as a child, fueling this intense fire inside of him that only felt relief against paper or canvas. She showered him in materials; endless chalk, a rainbow of watercolors, acrylics, oil pastels, pencils in all shapes and hues, stacks of papers, piles of canvas, even let him paint the walls of his bedroom as far as he could reach.

His father… simply stood and scowled in the doorway. He’s old fashioned, wanted an heir to the Harrington Construction Empire his own father built, not some… artistic little fairy. Steve stopped counting how many of his parents' fights were about him years ago.

And now he’s here, in California, attending college of all things, surrounded by students who, just like him, have devoted their entire lives to the arts. He feels less special, less talented, amongst his peers, where it seems that a third of them have arrived on scholarships, too.

But his teacher, Mr Reynolds, an old man with a long goatee and suspenders, always assures Steve that he is, without a doubt, the star of the class. That he will go far in his life, become world renowned, famous for his works, that in the future art classes will teach about his techniques and colors and soul.

Steve likes to believe it; spends his spare time thinking about what painting of his would be displayed in museums, what the critics will say, what he will wear to the reveal party, what his speech will sound like.

All those thoughts course through his overactive mind whenever he looks at a blank surface, just waiting, begging to be filled with his inspired soul. Perhaps he’s a bit too immodest and vain and arrogant, but he doesn’t really put up a fight against those ideals; never bothered trying to be humble about what is so obvious to any eye, and when every teacher has never offered up anything besides praise, is he to believe they’re all liars?

He looks around at his classmates as they set up in the arranged circle surrounding a single stool in the middle. They all smile at him, greetings exchanged as always, the friendliness of people who you’ve had a few beers with, attended some parties and gatherings together, but never really gotten to know past the surface.

Steve’s just not as social as he used to be, and moving halfway across the country didn’t really help that either. Something changed in him during the last year of high school, but honestly he can’t complain. He goes whenever invited, otherwise he keeps to himself, focuses on his studies, does his homework, a scholarship can only get you so far, and if his grades dip too low, it’s bye bye future.

“All on time for once! Impressive!” Reynolds says with a cheery tone, clasping his hands together with a wide smile as he moves to the center of the classroom. “For today’s live figure drawing practice, we’ll continue working with models and volunteers from all parts of life, and today I’ve managed to convince a hard working, blue collar of a man! William Hargrove, you may take the stage!”

Everyone turns to the stained room divider over in a solitude corner, the usual spot where their models change in and out of clothes and robes, and from behind steps a man dressed in a dark gray bathrobe, adorned with the most gorgeous crown of golden curls, his stubble is scruffy with a more accentuated mustache, and his eyes are of the clearest blue waters Steve has ever seen before.

His breathing pauses for just a moment as he stares at the broad shouldered stranger, caught in a trance - a willing subject to be ensnared by this man’s confidence, walking like he owns the room. Steve doesn’t even realise that he’s staring till he’s met with those heavenly eyes.

Who then winks at him, grin mischievous and aware of what thoughts surge forth in his presence.

Steve’s heart beats like a drum, ramming against his ribs, a heated flush rushing up to tint his ears red, spilling into his cheeks. He can’t help but whip his head back towards his easel with a stare that could burn a hole in the pages before him, restraining himself from gawking further, trying to calm down some.

It’s not that he hasn’t paid attention to other guys in the past, it’s just that he hasn’t cared for that kind of stuff before. Even when he was dating Nancy back in high school he didn’t care enough. But now? This guy? This man?

Nothing more than one simple, flirty look, and Steve’s interest tiptoes over the line of professional into personal, dipping in, testing the waters there.

And when he reaches the middle of the circle, everyone here far too interested in seeing what he’s hiding beneath the robe, he slowly slips it off, clearly revelling in all the attention if the smile he carries is any indication.

Unfortunately, much to Steve’s inconvenience, this William Hargrove is ripped. Jaw strong like a cliffside, biceps akin to perfectly carved marble, formidable pecs covered in chest hair lush like a forest that spreads down abs like rolling hills, Steve’s eyes travels smooth like a stream across the landscape of William’s body, down to his-

He refocuses on the easel in front of him, invitingly barren and pleading for him to ruin the stillness with his own inappropriate curiosity.

“Thank you once again for agreeing to this, Mister Hargrove. You may use this stool here to pose with, or without, it is entirely up to whatever you’re most comfortable with,” Reynolds explains, unhooking a thumb from where he fiddles with his suspenders to accept the robe that William has removed.

“Yes sir,” sounds the response, his voice husky and charming, throaty from years of use.

It tugs further at Steve’s intrigue, oh to hear him laugh, read a book aloud, sing along to whatever reckless music he listens to, probably rock or something abrasive. Steve’s wild imagination goes through it all in the matter of seconds, just to be pulled back when his teacher speaks again,

“We’ll be taking things a bit slow today, six poses with 10 minutes each, let you all get a good feel for Mr Hargrove’s body, really focus and pay attention to how the shadows fall.”

Steve’s convinced the way he swallows hard must be audible, the lump in his throat making a loud splash in the pool of boiling nerves gathered in his stomach, breaking surface tension and stirring up thoughts he hasn’t really bothered with for months, if not a year by now.

Yet here’s this stranger with such undeniable magnetism, taking a seat, naked on a stool, aiming straight at Steve, staring at Steve, smirking at Steve.

Who nervously rakes fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away as to more clearly see his model, noticing how the muscles flex and tense as Hargrove decides on his first pose. The human body is phenomenal to look at, nothing in the world deserves grander appreciation than it, and it’s easy for Steve to convince himself that that’s what this is, an accentuated form of gratitude for the very same shape that Michelangelo used for his David.

Finally William gets settled, on the edge of his seat, one foot on the ground, the other up on the bar between the legs of the stool, elbow raised and bent to bring a hand behind his head, the other relaxed on his thigh. Exposed and raw and muscular and brilliant.

Steve could truly go on and on and on about this Adonis posed all nude before him, face turned slightly to the side, but it is unquestionably clear that the rest of him is aimed directly at where Steve sits, and he doesn’t realise he’s staring again till Reynolds says,

“Ten minutes, everyone! You may begin!”

Keep reading on AO3

#Harringrove #My Writing #Art Student AU #Only Mature for now ;)))#God I went OFF on this one #Anonymous

73 notes · View notes

outoftimewriting · 4 years

Text

Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)

Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!

Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.

Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.

"I'll think about it"

They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.

He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.

They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.

Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.

He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.

Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.

Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.

So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.

He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.

She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.

Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.

This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.

They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.

They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.

They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.

It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.

He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.

If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.

Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.

She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.

They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.

(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)

Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.

They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.

They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.

They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.

Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.

Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.

When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.

Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.

If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.

He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.

Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.

He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!

Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.

But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.

There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.

They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.

Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.

"My father needs a word with you"

Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.

"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."

Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.

He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.

It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.

Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.

And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.

Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.

He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.

The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?

He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.

He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.

Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.

Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.

Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.

Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.

"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.

"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.

Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.

"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."

Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.

Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.

He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.

He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.

Her name is Hazel Levesque.

She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.

He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.

And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.

Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.

That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.

They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.

They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.

She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.

This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.

Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.

Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.

Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.

There's a spy passing information to Luke.

They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.

Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.

Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.

When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.

Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.

They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.

Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.

Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.

But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.

He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.

Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.

Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.

Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?

Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.

So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.

He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.

Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.

His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.

He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.

Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.

He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.

His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.

Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.

He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.

Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.

They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.

Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.

The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.

Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.

Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.

Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.

Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.

Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.

He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.

Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.

Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.

They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.

Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.

The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.

Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.

That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.

The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.

His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.

Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.

They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.

Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.

This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.

After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.

Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.

But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.

He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.

Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.

He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.

Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.

There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.

The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.

Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.

He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.

"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.

"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.

He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"

He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.

A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.

Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.

It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.

Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.

Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.

Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.

Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.

Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.

Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.

Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.

He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.

Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.

They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.

After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.

He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.

Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).

He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.

He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.

The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.

"You're not the hero"

"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"

Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.

Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.

Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.

Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.

The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.

Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.

He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.

Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.

Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.

He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.

Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.

He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.

Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.

It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.

Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.

The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.

She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.

He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.

They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.

Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.

And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.

Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.

It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.

Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.

As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.

This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.

Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.

They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.

Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.

"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"

It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.

"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.

"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.

But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.

Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.

Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.

Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.

The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.

Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.

"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.

"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"

Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.

Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.

"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"

"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.

"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"

Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.

Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.

He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.

He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.

Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.

Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?

Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.

He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.

They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.

They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.

He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.

"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.

"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."

They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.

"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."

"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.

"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."

"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.

"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."

It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.

They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.

He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.

Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.

It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.

Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.

Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.

Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.

Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.

Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.

That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.

But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.

It's not the end. Not yet.

118 notes · View notes

hellishvu · 4 years

Text

Devilish (Rated-R)

Bottom! Jungkook x Top! Male Reader

tags ･:*+.: ass eating, sub jungkook, whining, nervous jungkook, comfort, pocket pussy, talk of sex toys, sub jungkook, demon reader, innocent jungkook, ur a kind demon but jungkook wants u to ruin him, u do end up ruining him i-, no religion mentioned just demons deadass, jungkook just wants a demon boyfriend :<, soft/angst but goes back to smut, horns make u horny, jungkook loves his demon boyfriend, mentions of face riding (does not happen, at the very end)

a/n: HOLY SHIT i love jungkook in this story !! he’s so nasty yet so :< cute , it’s always been a dream of mine to write this so thank u anon for this opportunity keke. my writing might be a little different for these next requests so i apologize if it’s bad :< i kinda went out with the tags.. honestly you can probably read the quick summary of the stories just by the tags-

Jungkook has an issue, a small quite tame issue. There was a demon in his room that could possibly make him cum faster then any hook up he’s had (not like he had any). If he had any idea how he could possibly get a demon kink in a few seconds of you touching him. The way your black fingers traced his body, leaving a sting behind.

Jungkook still had a life to go on with, being an idol he couldn’t stay home and be with you, as much as he would like to, he needed to practice. So on days like these where the schedule was clear of any practice, meetings, or press. He relaxed besides you.

Jungkook was inexperienced in almost all stuff, he knew what he liked but there was always some things that he was uncertain of. Of course most of it he hestianted in telling you even if you were a demon.

“Okay hun. Let me take care of you. Tell me all you want to try.” You sat on the bed while Jungkook blinked a couple times before looking down. “I want you to jack me off.”

“Oh I can do that.” You nodded, Jungkook opens his mouth again and you allow him to finish.

“With a pocket pussy. Messy.” Jungkook pouts feeling his cheeks turn red. You place your finger between his lips while he lets his tongue wrap around your finger. The claw of your finger allowing a playful Jungkook to have quite fun with it.

“Nasty aren’t you?” You smirked seeing him nod, softly you kiss him again before getting up to grab the toys, letting him chose the color and the scent of the lube.

“You want more baby?” You say while you pull up the pocketpussy, he whimpers when the clear soaked lube toy leaves his tip red spilling pre-cum. “Pretty please.” Jungkook bites his lips while your hand gripped his cock.

“I need your tongue.. I need it.” Jungkook looks at you, while you tilt your head. He turns himself over showing his ass in front of your face. “I want this more. I need you.” Jungkook’s pure face made your cock twitch. His bubble ass on full display with his clean hole. You could eat him right up.

“I cl-cleaned for y-you.” Jungkook slyly says hiding his red face by not looking at you. You gripped his ass cheeks while Jungkook holds himself up. “Thank you, my beautiful baby.” You praise him while he smiles. Glad to make you happy.

“Is this your first time?” You ask while kissing his thighs. Jungkook whines nodding, having his hair hid most of his face from embarrassment. “Don’t need to be so shy, pretty boy.” You grab his hair putting it into a bun to not let his hair get in his face.

“Should I put my hair in a bun often?” Jungkook asks, while he feels your kisses on his back. The hint of teeth, making Jungkook bit his lower lip.

“Baby I wouldn’t know how to control myself if you did.” You confess while your horns grew, seeing Jungkook flustered from the your sudden arrousal.

You let your hands play with his ass, seeing your human fingers turn a pitch dark black growing to a curve. Giving a slight scratch to Jungkook when you caress him.

Jungkook probably would be a type of person to fall in love with a demon, he’s just in his head. Pretending to ignore the signs when you touch him his heart doesn’t race or when you talk to him he gets nervous. Jungkook whimpers when you first play with his hole. Your tongue giving painfully slow motions.

“Y/N please.” Jungkook looks behind him. You staring right at him back, with pure passion. He wants you so bad, he wants to please you too. “I know baby. I know.” You say, silencing him. You knew just what he wanted.

Letting your tongue in you let your tongue touch every part of him. Jungkook gasped out pulling his body toward shocked from the feeling. You pulling him by his hip to get closer. “Baby you okay?” You ask while your finger plays with his hole. Jungkook nods biting his lip.

You pressed your face between him again. Holding Jungkook against you while he moans out, squirming in your grasp. Even though you couldn’t hear him very well since your focus was making him cum, you could hear your name being called out multiple times.

“Y/N! Y-Fuck..fuck!” Jungkook screams his cock pulsing spilling more pre-cum on the sheets. Jungkook felt shameful that he’s having some demon pleasure him instead of going outside. He’s shameful that these nights are when he tells his hyungs he’s “busy”. He’ll bring you up soon enough.

“You seem more... sensitive tonight baby.” Your hands slid down his abs feeling him suck up from your cold touch. Your tip of your hand touching his cock, Jungkook whining.

“Y/N. Tell me you love me.” Jungkook huffs out while you stop. Your horns burning up and your hands turning back to human. “Y/N?” Jungkook chests starts to hurt, he feels the rejection. It burns him from the inside.

“Jungkook.” You softly say, Jungkook feeling pathetic. His ass up naked and sweating in front of a person he shouldn’t love. “I don’t want you to make a decision if you don’t understand the consequences.” You explain, spacing yourself from Jungkook. Him laying on the bed curling up.

“I know you’re a demon. My heart still says yes.”

“Jungkook. I just.. are you sure?” You ask not trying to touch Jungkook so he wouldn’t be affected by you. He nods once again, getting up. “Please? Be my boyfriend?” Jungkook asks sitting on your lap.

“Ahh my horns are burning up.” You let Jungkook touch them, feeling the immense amount of heat. “They are little hand warmers.” Jungkook grips both of them feeling your cock twitch under his ass.

“Oh.” Jungkook looks at your face, a low groan comes from your mouth. “I love you too by the way.” You tell him before he thinks you didn’t.

Jungkook feels his body get lifted and set down to the bed. He arches his back, allowing you to see his perfect ass once again. “You look so pretty, fuck Kook.” You spread his cheeks again, Jungkook getting flustered holding himself from rubbing himself against you.

“Please..” Jungkook looks at you again. You pressed your face into his cheeks allowing yourself to fully go all out. Rimming him to the point of his gasping for breath.

“Oh god! This feels.. so good.” Jungkook whimpers out his cock leaking more. He pressed his ass on your face while you grip his hips. Jungkook looks behind to see your desirable eyes fixated on making him feel good.

Jungkook’s all sense are lost besides the pleasure coming from your tongue, his cheeks red and drool coming from the corner of his lip while he rests his face on the pillow. It seemed you never needed a moment of air because you just kept going at it, with enough searching you found his prostate.

“There! Right there!” Jungkook gets back up on his forearms, his head looking up while he screams your name. The constant sensitive spot being hit grew Jungkook closer to climax.

“Y/N! I’m close! I’m gonna cum!” Jungkook high pitch whimper. The sweat glistening on his body while you gripped his hips harder marking him up, you hit his prostate once more before he came on your tongue.

Jungkook gasps while he felt the immense pleasure, dropping his head while the shoots of cum are seen on the bed sheets. His cock red and sensitive. You separate yourself from Jungkook and helped him move, his legs wobbly while you let him rest on you.

Worrying about clean up when Jungkook takes a shower later. You hear Jungkook’s breath slowly slow down. Your hands gripping his ass. “Nope! No round 2!” Jungkook yells out while you snicker.

“You got a cute ass, wanna ride my face?” You say in a serious tone while Jungkook could be seen actually thinking about it. “I’ll consider the offer.” Jungkook winks while he goes back to resting on your chest.

“Did you do this before you met me?” Jungkook asks while your hands moved from his ass to his back. Holding him close even if you two were sweaty.

“No, my job was to allow people to chose one thing they desire and give it to them. Most people desired money or fame but you just wanted your back blown out.” Poking his nose, Jungkook giggles hugging you.

“Porn can only do so much. But now you can meet my hyungs.” Jungkook smiles seeing your anxious face. Clearly nervous to meet people Jungkook always talks about.

“Don’t know how they will feel about you dating a demon.” You admit feeling fearful of the new experience, you’ve never had a boyfriend from the human world nor know if it’s possible.

“As long as we love each other then it’s not going to be a problem.” Jungkook smiles making your past worries almost disappear. “Alright Koo.” You smile back at him accepting his love.

#jungkook x male reader #bottom jungkook #bts mlm #bts smut #kpop mlm #kpop x male reader #bts x male reader

348 notes · View notes

voidstilesplease · 3 years

Text

i’ll never wear clothes again

For @sterek-kinkmas day 2: Exhibitionism

Tags: Alternate Universe-Human, Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Alternate Universe-College/University, Best Friends Stackson, Roommates Derek/Jackson, Humor, Fluff, Mentions of Nudity

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 1,601

"Tell your roommate to fucking wear clothes."

"Tell your roommate to fucking wear clothes," Stiles hisses through the phone, shoving clothes after clothes into his duffel. The response he gets to his complaint is a groan from Jackson.

"This is still going on?" His tone suggests that he's exasperated with the deep rumbling from his throat, but Stiles can hear the undertone of amusement. "Just fuck already, for Christ's sake."

Stiles pulls the phone away from his ears and gapes at it for a second. He scoffs and presses it more firmly to his ears, putting the speaker close to his mouth so Jackson can hear his every word and intake of breath. "How many times," Stiles even stops his packing to wring his other hand and place it on his hips. "must I tell you that I'm never going out with Derek Hale?"

"At least a hundred more in the next 24 hours," Jackson deadpans.

It makes Stiles's agitation grow because, honestly, what kind of best friend would not take this harassment seriously? "Jackson, he's flashing me!" the hand on his hip is now in the air brandishing like a fly swatter. "Whenever I'm over at your apartment, and you're not around - hell, even when you are," he shakes his head. "Derek parades himself naked, putting all that," he gestures wildly in his silent room, having started pacing as well. "rippling, flexing muscles and huge fucking dick on display like a fucking porn star!"

Stiles is not expecting Jackson to be sympathetic to his plight, but he should, at least, show a little concern for Stiles. Instead, what he gets is one of the done/finished/over-and-done-with exhalation that means he's ready to drop the call and leave Stiles to his predicament. Jackson really could show a little care since it's his roommate that's giving Stiles nightmares in both waking and sleeping worlds.

"If you want Derek to stop inviting," there's a sound of a car door shutting close in the backroom and the jingle of keys. "Then stop looking like an interested guest."

Before Stiles can ask what he means by that, Jackson has started the ignition and clicks the disconnect button. He sputters for a moment and then drops his arm with a resigned huff. As usual, Jackson is a useless friend.

Stiles sighs once more and goes back to packing. This weekend is going to be hellish. He's spending a few days at Jackson's place while the heater and ventilation are getting fixed at his second-rate dorm.

He pulls the sleeves of his red hoodie down on his hands. He's going to die freezing if he doesn't stay over at Jackson's, and there's nowhere else to go. California in winter months are still frequently sunny with a mild temperature, but this is one of those times not covered by the term. It can get frosty when it deems to be. Jackson's apartment is the logical, financially-wise option. But of course, Stiles has to be prepared for Jackson's roommate. Derek is the worst -a flasher and an overall douche. Of course, he was also Stiles's sexual awakening in high school, but that's beside the point.

His hand hovers at the box of condoms on his nightstand. He hesitates, nibbles on his lower lip, grabs the box anyway and stuffs it inside along with his clothes and toiletries. He zips up the duffel bag, hating himself.

He's not an interested guest, and the condoms are not part of his preparations for Derek. Yeah? Okay.

Right.

He picks up his bag, thinks belatedly about stopping by at the pharmacy to buy lube, and hates himself some more.

~•~

But Stiles hates Derek the most.

Also, Jackson, because where the hell is he?

Stiles has been in the apartment for five hours, but the asshole hasn't gone back from the university yet. Stiles knows he should be back by now, but he's not even responding to text messages. It's like he vanished on purpose.

Now, Stiles is stuck sitting stiff as a board on the couch in front of the TV, absently watching a show he doesn't even like. Derek is on the far end of the same couch, cozy, and very relaxed like he's not lounging about in his tight underpants and plastering his bulge and abs all over the place, the fucking exhibitionist.

Stiles pointedly trains his eyes on the screen, seeing motions but not comprehending them. All he can focus on is the loud hammering in his chest and the stirring low in his stomach. He's getting bothered just by Derek's proximity. Jesus, it is embarrassing even for his standard. It was probably forgivable when he was sixteen, having his first sexual fantasies about the unattainable, out-of-his-league lacrosse star Derek Hale. But Stiles had survived high school, his hopeless crush, and Derek toying his feelings wearing a straight face. He's a big college boy now, who has gotten rid of his spectacles, might still flail a little, but has gotten the attention of a few people. He shouldn't be falling back into the Derek Hale bandwagon; he was over that.

"Are you okay?"

Derek's voice startles him. Stiles jerks back wide-eyed as he turns to Derek's drawn eyebrows. His throat catches, he clears it, and then says in a hopefully even tone, "Yeah."

"You're sweating,"

Stiles is sweating in the forehead; he usually is when he's nervous, tense, or aroused. It isn't all that fulfilling to note that he's all three currently. He averts his eyes back on the screen, "Something must be off with your air-conditioning."

In his peripheral, Stiles can see the smirk on Derek's stupidly gorgeous face. God, Stiles hates people like him. They know they're attractive, confident with their toned bodies, exuding sex-appeal, and they make others twitch in their seats uncomfortably, racing with their heartbeats and gasping for air. Oh, and sweltering at 80°F.

"I'm sure that's not the case,"

Stiles must have imagined the suggestive tone when Derek says it because there's no way, right? He ponders for a second before shifting back to face him. Derek's staring at him, shamelessly, blatantly running his eyes all over his flushing face. Stiles's pulse quickens at the hooded looks.

Derek's eyes meet his again, "If the heat is bothering you," he starts, lips stretching to a small smile. "You should take off your clothes."

He's too stunned inside, but he forces himself to face away once again, feeling his skin beginning to burn. "Not all of us have washboard abs to show off."

"Your body's fine," Derek says offhandedly, but Stiles is tingling from the words.

"How can you know?" He tries to sound indifferent, but the pitchy quality of his voice is not helping his case. "You haven't seen me."

Two beats pass, then, "So, show me."

Stiles can't whirl his head fast enough. He gapes at Derek's serious expression. "Is that-" he sputters, surprised. "Are you-"

Derek cocks his head to the side, "Finally catching up?"

He gapes in disbelief; even his breathing falters. Words escape him for a moment. Then, he exhales, "What are you saying?"

Derek adjusts in his position, moving closer to Stiles. This near, Stiles can see the nervous tick on his jaw, which -unreal. Derek Hale doesn't know anxiety. He's the epitome of arrogance and narcissism and unwavering confidence.

Derek's green eyes settle on his dull browns, "I don't strut around naked for just anybody."

Stiles's eyes stray down to Derek's red lips and lock there. He licks his lips, instinctual, "Well, why didn't you ask?"

A bashful expression crosses Derek's features. He ducks his head a little, "I tried. You rejected me."

At this, Stiles rears away, incredulous. "Rejected you?" He puffs a laugh. "Me, turn you down? In what universe, Derek?"

Derek's brow draws together, looking confused. "In senior year," he tells him like it's obvious. "I asked you to go on dates with me," a shadow passes his face, lips curling downward. "You sneered at me every time."

He hears his jaw hitting the floor, remembering all those times, but dismissing them as Derek's asshole antics, "You were serious?"

Now, Derek looks offended, even hurt. "I sent you notes, blackmailed Jackson for your number, asked you in the middle of the cafeteria, even went to your house one time -how did you think I wasn't?"

Stiles sags on the couch, shocked and disoriented at the turn of events. When he is composed enough, he lifts his eyes back to Derek's expectant gaze. "So, you decided to," he gestures at Derek's lack of clothing. "Strip for me?"

At this, the smirk returns. "It seems to be working," Derek points out, glancing brazenly at Stiles's middle, where his boner is apparent.

He gets flustered but doesn't deny it. There's no point in pretending he isn't affected. Stiles laughs breathily, "Fuck, you have no idea."

It must be the correct answer because Derek's face breaks out in a cheeky expression. "Then, I reiterate," Derek moves to his feet, and stands before Stiles in all his half-naked glory, boxers tenting. It's the most covered he's been since this whole shenanigans started. Stiles's mouth waters at the view, and he swallows conspicuously, Derek watching the movement of his throat. His green eyes darken when he tips Stiles's chin up to bring their gazes together. "Show me."

***

"Wait, Jackson knows?"

"Yes. I blackmailed Jackson again so he'd stay out tonight. Or he can come home and watch, I don't care. Now, will you please get back to what you were doing with your tongue?"

"Traitor,"

"Stiles."

"Oh, fine."

"Yeah, that's -ah. Yeah. I'll never wear clothes again."

~•~

#sterek #sterekkinkmas #sterekkinkmas2020 #stiles stilinski #derek hale #fics tag

25 notes · View notes

naitiaclo960writings · 3 years

Text

Day 17 - Autumn Invading

When Sam and Dean officially moved into the bunker, it was in the early fall. Even in Kansas, the wind was cold and biting at that time of year and, although he would never admit it even on his deathbed, Dean had always been of a chilly nature. In the innumerable motels they had traveled throughout their lives, Dean systematically arranged to keep several layers of clothing on him or to ask for extra blankets at the reception. When they had established their base at the bunker and each had inherited a room, it was not long for Dean before finding slippers, a warm bathrobe and the thickest blankets of their fortress.

Sam had noticed his little game a long time ago already, but never said anything. Despite his tough guy looks that Dean wanted to give himself for a reason that escaped him, Sam knew that his brother had a weakness, especially for the rare days when their daily life turned out to be calm and domestic. While he was ruthless with the monsters who gave them a hard time, Dean was also the most inclined to make hot chocolates in front of a wood fire while watching a nice movie. Sam called it his "cocooning period" and Dean, who thought it sounded too much like "a chick word”, just said he liked the simple things of life.

However, although he had so far moderated those moments of lounging to prevent Sam from laughing at him anymore, Dean had always dreamed of being able to spend whole days literally doing nothing. Don’t get him wrong, he was a man of action and he needed his quota of monsters and adventure within a week. Nevertheless, he certainly wouldn’t say no to weekends holed up in the bunker to worry about nothing but eating and sleeping from time to time.

Fortunately for him, the opportunity had almost presented itself when Castiel came to live with them. Definitely, of course.

Currently, Dean was buried under several fluffy blankets in his memory foam bed. He stretched out slowly, feeling each of his muscles deliciously distends before falling back against his pillows in the most satisfied sigh. Despite his blanket fortress and the heating on in his room, Dean was practically naked in his bed, wearing only a large pair of boxers with pizza patterns that he only wore when he wanted to relax. The underwear was so loose that he hardly felt it around his waist. On the other hand, feeling the cotton of the blankets on his freshly washed skin had the talent of putting him in a good mood.

His feet—which had kept cooling on contact with the bunker tiles despite his wool slippers—were now pleasantly warm at the end of the bed, sending delightful waves of tingling in his legs. He felt like he was floating in a cloud of comfort and, for God’s sake, he would like to feel that way for the rest of his life. Dean barely wanted to get up to get food or go to the bathroom. If he had to die here, then so be it. He told himself that he would pass away happily, with a little soft smile. Dean retreated to his comfort nest, his hair pointing in all directions as he tightened his favorite blanket around his shoulders.

The arm that did not hold the blanket, for its part, went on a wander in search of a very different source of heat. When his fingers finally came into contact with warm and familiar skin in front of him, he smiled a little more. Castiel was sitting next to him, leaning on a pile of pillows against the headboard and staring at the computer between them. He was not much more dressed than Dean, but unlike his companion, he did not feel the need to cover up. Angels were not affected by temperature like humans. Also, Castiel was always temperate and, when Dean felt too chilly, he would snuggle to him in search of a human — or almost — radiator. Although, of course, Dean did not always wait to be cold to cuddle with Castiel.

Castiel smiled while feeling Dean’s hand gently caressing his bare and finely muscled belly, his blue eyes leaving the screen to come and rest on Dean’s loving face. He loved to see this expression so open and relaxed on his partner’s face and made it a point to make it appear as often as possible. Since the beginning of fall, he and Dean had multiplied the afternoons in bed to laze undisturbed in the warmth of their room. It was needless to say that Castiel had never experienced such a situation, it seemed to him to be a purely human activity to which he would have lent no use not so long before. But now that he shared his daily life and more with Dean, he had quickly learned to cherish those kinds of shared moments together. It was beyond words. Dean called it "having a good run together" and Castiel loved the sound of that sentence, because he already knew that he wanted to explore every possible and imaginable existence with Dean until the end of his very long life. It would probably be a bit silly if he confessed it aloud to his companion, but he would not hesitate to let Dean know it just to see him blush and mumble two or three swear words under his breath before kissing him gently on the lips.

Castiel cut his thoughts short to get progressively closer to Dean, sinking into the blankets too. He turned on the mattress to face him, placing a warm hand on one of his cheeks and feeling Dean’s zygomatic tends more into a soft smile.

"Are you cold?" Castiel inquired, raising a curious eyebrow while the computer played a series, forgotten between them.

Dean shrugged but nevertheless got closer, planting a wet kiss on Castiel’s nose. They were now so close to each other that they shared the same air.

"That’s alright. Unless you want to give me a little sport to warm me up…" Dean teased while continuing to touch the Angel’s abs, a playful smile on his face.

Castiel hummed gently to the attention before extending an arm towards Dean. He embraced him slowly before drawing Dean to him and share another kiss, deeper this time. Dean let out an amused exclamation in the embrace and then retreated after a while. He smiled.

"Besides, I thought you really wanted to know the end of Breaking Bad before deigning to touch me." He joked before he kissed Castiel again, gently.

Castiel raised an arrogant eyebrow and this time it was his turn to break the contact.

"Maybe my human’s needs come first this time. Well, so I believe." Castiel replied in a teasing tone, easily entering Dean’s game now that he had learned the subtlety of sarcasm and seduction.

Dean shook his head and smiled. He knew that such a dynamic between them would never have been possible before, even in his wildest dreams. Dean had resigned to his unspoken feelings by persuading himself for years that he and Castiel were a relationship doomed to failure and suffering. That they were too different and that their lives would never allow them any semblance of normalcy or comfort. That he shouldn’t be distracted when he was trying to save the world or taking care of his little brother. That it just wouldn’t work, because it wasn’t reciprocal and he’d make a fool of himself, he’d lose his best friend, he’d still hurt someone he cared about.

He had been happy to have decided not to listen to this voice the day he opened himself up to Castiel. Although this was greatly encouraged by alcohol, it was all but unimportant.

"Oh, I see. Well, the human is infinitely grateful to you for honoring him with your luminous presence." Dean answered with exaggeration, rolling his eyes and pretending to be annoyed.

"You don’t complain about it, though." Castiel remarked.

Castiel tried to kiss him again after that, but Dean backed away and gave him a finger. Castiel grumbled and pushed him a little further while Dean laughed softly, not even offended when the blanket slipped from his shoulders. He loved the simplicity that animated their relationship, the fact that he could act freely without worrying about the reaction of the other. Castiel knew him so well now and it had taken more than a few months for Dean to accept the fact that his best friend loved him for what he was and not for what he was supposed to be every day. It was refreshing and oh so restful for Dean. In all these previous serious relationships, although they were not numerous, he had had to keep a part of mystery or even a lie that had systematically left a bitter taste in his mouth. With Castiel, the major difference was that he knew immediately what he was signing up for and accepted it as is.

Still smiling, Dean straightened up to grab the cup of hot chocolate he had left to cool down until then. He took the drink with a comfortable sigh and wrapped his fingers around the still warm ceramic. A marshmallow floated lazily in the center of the chocolate and Dean melted a little more in the mattress when the liquid touched his lips. He knew that in normal times and with anyone else at his side, he would disown hot chocolate for something stronger. Probably coffee, or whiskey. Or both at the same time. But now, he was too deeply immersed in his trance of total relaxation to care about it and this chocolate was the most delicious there was right now. He let the sweet taste come and tease his taste buds before swallowing it with delight, feeling the still burning liquid slipping down his throat.

When Dean opened his eyes that he did not remember closing, he watched his computer continue broadcasting Breaking Bad in front of them. They remained in silence for many minutes, Dean finishing his cup of chocolate while Castiel played distractingly with the fingers of Dean’s unoccupied hand. When his cup was empty and he felt warmed from the inside, Dean rested his mug on his nightstand and stretched out like a cat again. He was pretty sure that Castiel paid as much attention as he did to their series—that is to say, very little—so he was not surprised when his companion straightened up to hug him on his side and bury his nose in his neck. Dean smiles as he feels Castiel’s warm breath in the hollow of his skin.

"If you keep going, we both know perfectly well that we will never finish the episode…" Dean growled gently while leaning into the embrace.

Time seemed suspended between them in this bubble of happiness that constituted their room, slowed down. Dean sighed quietly, softly sliding towards that version of him that only very few people on this Earth had the right to see. The relaxed and gentle, funny Dean. A little needy, but nevertheless light and easy… The Dean is the exact opposite of this emotionless killing machine that he had to interpret too often to survive. Here, the only weapon he needed was the puppy eyes that he sometimes threw at Castiel to order him another head massage among his tangled hair.

The hours elapsed deliciously between them as the episodes followed one another. Dean felt a little more filled with that warm feeling every time Castiel paid attention to him, whether it was when he rolled the blankets up on a piece of his bare skin or when he pressed a tender kiss down his neck just to feel it shivering. In those days, Dean wanted to do everything and do nothing at the same time. He felt powerful, important, alive.

The sun was certainly declining outside to give way to the long night of winter, but both dared hardly look at the hour for fear of breaking this tacit agreement of total tranquility. Of course, Dean got up at one point to quickly go to cook something before coming back to eat it in bed, and Castiel took the opportunity to take out the controllers of the game console located in Dean’s room after they had finished their series. Castiel won the game, as he always did, because he seemed to be just good at everything he did, and Dean mumbled for form in the face of his traditional forfeit of the loser before indulging in a back massage for his companion.

He savored every trembling muscle under his fingers, every scar that he began to know by heart, and paid special attention to these two reddish marks among the scapula reminiscent of deep cuts. But Dean knew these marks well, and he loved them even more since he knew how to exploit them. Sitting softly on Castiel’s buttocks, he pressed his fingers against the spine of his angel before slowly pulling up each vertebra. He massaged, caressed, brushed and massaged again until he felt Castiel trembling beneath him. Dean leaned a little further forward, so that his breath now came to warm the skin of his lover’s back. He smiles, concentrating his movements on the shoulder blades, teasing the hollows and bumps of his companion’s anatomy while detailing his pale, muscular skin.

"Never have I ever… lost in a video game on purpose to massage you." Dean suddenly said before he came to kiss Cas’s upper back.

Castiel sighed and a fine smile appeared on his relaxed face. It was their game, their way of saying "I love you" without really expressing it… They had developed it at the turn of a drink-fueled evening that had undeniably ended with very few clothes, but their trick had remained and everything was a pretext to reuse it now. It was simple and stupid and simply stupid, everything they needed to know and say what they thought about each other. One said a perfectly obvious fact by beginning his sentence with "never have I ever", to which the other had to answer with a kiss if it were true. To date, no one has stated facts that do not require a positive response. Normally, the game was played in turn, but, engaged in the roll, Dean continued.

"Never have I ever loved the touch of your wings more than anything in this world…"

Another kiss, on one of the marks this time, as if to contradict himself. An umpteenth happy sigh. Castiel did not complain about this brief change of rules.

"Never have I ever…" A kiss. "Loved as much…" Then another. " As with you…"

Castiel practically purred under the attention before Dean slowly retreated and lowered his hands. Like a perfectly repeated choreography, Castiel took the opportunity to take a deep inspiration before a loud "whoosh" filled the air and two huge black wings invaded the space of the room. Dean smiled tenderly, a wide smile full of teeth that wrinkled the corner of his eyes as he leaned forward again to kiss the base of the wings. No feather escaped his attention as he stroked and kissed every bit of plumage offered to him, and Castiel seemed to melt on the mattress.

Seeing the wings of an angel was a true honor considering how intimate the gesture was for the angel concerned. Castiel literally laid bare before him, revealing his purest primal form and putting his life in his hands. The wings of an angel were so fragile, so sensitive and yet so powerful and majestic. Even among them, it was not common for this heavenly race to show their wings, let alone in a moment as intimate as the one Castiel and Dean were living. But the months had accumulated between them and from this love a solid trust was born. Dean would never thank his angel enough for offering him such proof of love, but he could nevertheless try to love him so much in return.

"Cas…" Dean whispered against the heat of a large dark feather.

"I’m here." Castiel immediately replied. Always.

As a result, the words were lost, the gestures became feverish to make room only for the language of the bodies. Although Dean was woefully bad at expressing his emotions, he certainly knew how to show them and Castiel undeniably liked to receive. Nevertheless, of all the means they used to warm up on the cold autumn days, this was their favorite.

* * * @winchester-reload

Hiya! First of all, I’m sorry for the delay in publication. I had several personal things to deal with, a writing block and, among other things, the now imminent end of the show that is beginning to weigh on morale. However, I repeat that I intend to finish this collection on the 31 days of the Suptober! I’m not going to pick up the pace of "one work a day", but things will continue to move forward, hoping you’ll stay tuned for it!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

Tag list /!\ PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT TO BE ADD TO (or removed from) THE TAG LIST so you won’t miss any updates.

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @styggtroll @thanks-tacos @petrichoravellichor @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @ladywaywarddsc @hellfire37 @destiel-221b-sabriel @aloha-cowgirl @destielhoneybee @dysfunctional-destiel @ozonecologne @doofcas @castielrisingabove @zoerayne2426 @tibbinswrites @vicmc624 @thegirlofstarlight @berrieseveryday @staycejo1 @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @bab-spnfamily @lo-mindpalace

24 notes · View notes

tae-cup · 4 years

Text

Run | JJK Oneshot

Inspired by: BTS’ “Run”

Pairing: non-Idol!Jeon Jungkook x Runner!Reader

Summary: He never enjoyed running until he met you, sadly, life has a way of taking a turn for the worst.

Warnings: Mentions of disease/illness, ANGST, but also lots of fluff!

Word Count: 3.3K Words

A/N: We all need a little Jungkook in our lives. Alternative Song Alive (acoustic) by Dabin & RUNN

Other: Masterlist

Make me run Make me run more Let my feet rip apart with wounds At least I can smile when I see you

Sweat beaded on your forehead as you paced yourself through the streets of Seoul. The annual Seoul Marathon. You had been dreaming of this for a while. The burning in your lungs, the strain on your legs, the crowd. You loved it.

Running made you feel alive. It reminded you that you were breathing, that your feet knew the way. Step after step. Just one more step and you’ll be closer. Your water bottle was crushed in your hand, wrist coming up to swipe at the sweat. Training your body wasn’t an issue, you wanted to do this. It started small; around the block and back. Then it became ‘to the end of the neighborhood and back’ and finally, across the city and back. It was quite the feat. You may have almost passed out once or twice.

That’s how you stumbled into a man that would change your life. Jungkook. He smiled beside you, trying to hold back his competitive spirit. The finish line was in sight, unbroken. How easy it would be for him to cross it before you, but you had been dreaming of this moment; to cross the white line and call yourself The winner.

So he slowed down, pretending to be worn out. You glanced behind you, but you didn’t slow. The crowd cheered so loud, it was like thunder in your ears. One more step. The next step was fine, and so was the one after it. Then that third step felt...wrong. You couldn’t tell why it felt that way, so you continued to run, step after step. The moment passed, but you couldn’t rid yourself of the uneasy feeling.

The white band made contact with your stomach and you fell to your knees, gasping for air. Cameras flashed, white ribbons were strewn across the pavement. A water bottle was shoved into your hand and you took it gladly, downing half of it before handing it back. It was a cold day, perfect for a marathon, yet you felt your cheeks flush with heat when Jungkook fell, panting, beside you.

“Kookie, we did it.” You said, wonder in your voice, as your back hit the pavement next to him.

“Yeah, we did.” He stared blankly into the sky and you missed the small smile on his face.

Two Months Ago

The world’s a little blurry. Billie Eilish sung into your ears. You blinked, trying to get rid of the black spots in your vision. Yeah, the world is pretty fucking blurry. You thought to yourself. You would have laughed had it not been for the pain in your chest. You swerved to the side, peripheral catching sight of a wall. You reached out, vision getting dizzier. This is what you get for pushing yourself.

As you stumbled over, your hands flailed around crazily. A couple people looked concerned, but most minded their own business. Your hands found the wall and you collapsed against it. Except the wall let out an Oomph and was warm. You blinked wearily, not as bothered about mistaking a human for a wall as you should have been. He seemed more surprised than anything. His face was youthful and he looked around your age. You grasped his arms to steady yourself. Oh, so he works out? You thought, wanting to slap yourself.

“Are you-are you okay? Do you need me to call 911?” His voice was panicked, seeing your face scrunched up. Actually, you did sort of need medical attention, but you weren’t going to admit it to this handsome stranger. You would look like a fool anyway.

“It’s fine, fine. I think I’m just dehydrated.” You muttered, reining back in your consciousness. The man grinned widely.

“Then how about you come out for a drink with me?” He asked slyly. You frowned, sighing.

“Fine.” Why not?

“Great! But seriously, are you alright? You don’t look too great.”

“And I’m seriously fine.” You retort stubbornly. “I mistook you for a wall.”

He chuckled at that and gripped your arm, keeping you steady.

“I think you should rest a bit. Why are you running so hard anyway? The only time I run is when I’m in danger.” He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I’m...” You pulled away, laughing uneasily. You had never been a runner, but you always enjoyed it. When you told people of your dream to win the Seoul Annual Marathon, most laughed. You didn’t exactly fit into the typical ‘fit’ person lifestyle. You liked to bum around your house, eat whatever, and binge T.V. “I’m training for the Seoul Annual Marathon.” You carefully explained. “I want to win it.”

Instead of a scoff, a sigh of disapproval, or a pitying look, he smiled impossibly wider.

“That’s so awesome!” He cried. “I’ve never been much of a runner, I hate it.” He held out his hand to shake and your vision had gone somewhat normal. “I’m Jungkook.”

You took his hand in yours, shaking it firmly. “I’m Y/N.”

A runner. He basically called you a runner. You found yourself grinning like a crazy person, completely pulled into his carefree and open nature.

“About that drink...” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, drawing a chuckle from you. You probably looked like a mess and you could appreciate a man that had no regard for that and still asked you out.

“I’m free any time.” Your schedule was flexible. Work as a graphic designer was never consistent.

“Okay!” His eyes lit up. “Is tomorrow at 2, good?” When you nodded, he sheepishly scratched his neck. “I mean, I’m sorry to just spring it on you, I’ve got a busy schedule with my company.” He said.

Jungkook so far was proving to be the opposite of you entirely. Carefree, happy, consistent, reliable. You had none of those things, often doing things on a whim. The only thing that could be counted on was your perseverance. Once you decided on something, you saw it to the end. Every. Time.

“No, it’s fine.” You waved him off. “I don’t mind. Like I said, I’m free any time. My schedule is flexible.”

He tilted his head, thinking over your words. You couldn’t help thinking he looked like a bunny, or maybe a dog.

“Oh, what do you do for a living?” He questioned.

“I’m a graphic designer.” You grimaced and you noticed he caught your bitter expression.

“Not what you wanted?” Jungkook sighed as you nodded your head a little. “Yeah, I feel the same.”

“Well, It’s not that I didn’t want to become a graphic designer...I just wish I had kept it as a side project and let my parents talk me into business.” You shut yourself up after that, not wanting to pour out any more of your damaged soul to a stranger. Sometimes strangers are the best listeners.

“I let my parents talk me into business.” He mumbled, lively energy dissipating. “It’s so stuffy just sitting inside all the time.”

“That’s why I run.” you answered immediately. “It relieves stress.”

He smiled softly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Of course.”

It was silent after that. He wordlessly wrote his number onto a scrap of paper and handed it to you. You murmured a thank you and called for someone to pick you up. There was no way you were going to run back, you were dehydrated enough. He waved as you pulled away and you couldn’t help but wave back.

“So why do you want to do this marathon anyway?” Jungkook tapped the coffee mug with his fingers.

You thought for a moment, taking a sip of your drink before answering.

“I just want to feel like I’ve finally accomplished something in my life.” You shrugged, though there was an air of sadness to your tone. People had always thought low of you. To them, you were just...average. You looked average, you did well in school, you spoke to your parents once a day. Average. Becoming a runner, indulging in your silly fantasies, made you above average. Not great, but just a bit above the normal standards. Yes, you’d been studying in school and passing all your exams, but you didn’t have any other passion. Well, you did, but they were never nurtured to their full extent. So you picked up running.

“Yeah, I get it.” He looked out the window distantly, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

“What do you do?”

“Well, I’m a manager at Bangtan inc.-”

“Bangtan inc?!” You almost spit out your coffee. “You mean the Bangtan inc.? The one that owns every billboard in the city and invests in companies with a 99% success rate? That Bangtan inc.?” You gaped. This man was successful. Way more successful than you.

“Hah, yeah, but I mean, that’s not my passion.” He explained. “I’ve always wanted to be a singer, maybe an idol. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve accomplished things, yes, but nothing I particularly care about.”

You nodded slowly, a small smile creeping onto your face. He was blushing. Blushing! He seemed way too young to be so stressed all the time.

“You should join me on my runs, they’re really stress reducing.” You reached over and poked his hand. He jumped, dazed expression returning to his usual happy expression.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What time?”

“6:00 A.M. everyday.”

“Yeah, no.”

You frowned, sipping at the last drops of coffee in your cup. You set down the cup and sighed loudly.

“Come on, it’s not like you don’t work out.” You said pointedly. His ears burned bright red.

“How did you know?” He said softly.

“You think it’s hard to dismiss your abs? It’s like you’re blatantly shoving them in my face with that shirt.” You huffed, pointing to his white dress shirt underneath his suit jacket. He raised an eyebrow, confused by your upfront personality. It was so unlike his coworkers who hid behind carefully practiced smiles.

“Would you like me to?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you pouted, crossing your arms and tossing your hair.

“You’re so unfair.”

“Fine how about this.” He propositioned, fingers pressing together on the table. “If I go running with you, will you let me take you on another date?”

“Date? I would hardly call this a date.” You said playfully. “And you didn’t need to bargain with me, I would have said yes either way.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Of course it is, dumbo.” You chuckled. “See you tomorrow, 6:00 A.M. sharp, you hear?”

You were definitely surprised to see him, hair tied back and a sweatband on his forehead, the next day. The dark haired boy was wearing gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You smiled at his appearance as you stepped out your front door.

“Now what are you doing here?” You slyly smiled.

“Here to run.”

“And why is that?”

“Some old crazy lady said it was good for me.” He grinned. You pretended to be shocked, placing a hand over your heart.

“How dare you call me old! I am not that old at all!” You shouted.

“Yeah? How old are you, granny?”

“24!” You defended yourself.

“Hey! Me too!” He shouted back, though more excited. You grinned.

“What month?”

“What?” He looked at you, bewildered. You stepped down the concrete stairs of your apartment.

“What month were you born, lover boy?” You said smoothly.

He noticeably swallowed, a little taken aback.

“September.”

“Year?”

“1997.” He mumbled, now clenching the fabric of his shirt awkwardly.

“Hah! So you’re the granny here!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I was born December 1997. Now keep up!”

You started jogging ahead. He muttered a curse under his breath and then easily caught up. He began running a little faster, getting ahead of you to your dismay.

“This isn’t a race, Jungkook! Conserve your energy.” You called, trying to subdue his competitive nature. He just laughed.

Well you were the one laughing now. He was gasping for air not three blocks later as you continued on.

“Please, Jungkook, you are a fit 24 year old man. You can do better.” You chided as he wheezed.

“You’ve been training for what, a month?!” He gasped for air.

“And?” You rolled your eyes, jogging in place beside him.

“Obviously you’re better than me!”

You grinned and slowed to a stand still.

“I know. We’ll get you there, Kookie.”

He glanced up at you through his sweat soaked bangs. His slender fingers brushed them aside and he stood, stretching his back.

“Say it again.”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“My name. Say it again.”

“Jungkook?”

“No, no, the other one!”

“Kookie?”

Jungkook smiled brightly, his gaze a little more than innocent. “I like it when you call me that.”

He chuckled as you blushed furiously and swatted at his arm.

Present

You stiffened, willing your legs to move. Jungkook gazed at you as he stood and you pretended to still be resting.

“Hey, let’s go, people want to talk to you.” He smiled, offering a hand. The issue? You couldn’t get your legs to cooperate. You just chalked it up to being exhausted, but it was worrying nonetheless. Usually they felt like jelly, but not like...like nothing. It was a numbness.

“Sorry, just give me a moment.” You murmured. He tilted his head, sensing something wrong. Then he sat down next to you.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy?”

“Extremely.” You smiled weakly. You really were happy, truly, but your mind was focused on your legs right now.

“Then why do you look so...worried?” He gently placed his hand on yours.

“I just, I think my legs are a little exhausted.” You admitted, trying not to get too much into it. “I don’t know if I can stand.” You said it lightly, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to chuckle. Luckily, Jungkook did it for you.

“You’ll be fine, come on.” He stood, smiling his bunny smile.

“Kookie, you don’t understand.” You sighed, covering your eyes with your arm, not wanting to see his expression. “I can’t. My legs won’t move.”

One Week Later

He did the same thing as you; chalked it up to exhaustion. You even convinced yourself of it because after a moment’s rest, you could walk perfectly fine. Now you stood swung your legs, sitting at the kitchen counter while Jungkook prepared his breakfast of cereal that was mostly cornflakes with a couple drops of milk.

“Where are we going today?” You asked. You had long since come to an agreement with him that you would only run during the week. Weekends were time spent sleeping in and spending time together. Besides your morning runs, you rarely saw him. His job with Bangtan was booming and becoming more stressful to manage. This meant long nights waiting up for him to come stumbling tiredly through the door and early mornings rising to see him before he left.

“I was thinking we should go to the movies.” He smiled warmly at you. You liked that idea. It had been a while since you last went.

“That sounds great! I’ll go get dressed!” You hopped from your place at the counter and left for the bedroom. That wasn’t without being dragged backwards and receiving a loving kiss on your forehead beforehand.

You fumbled for the light switch and then set to work to create the perfect outfit. Black jeans, a button up white blouse, and a pair of black flats. You placed a gray cardigan next to a yellow one, wondering which one to choose. Your outfit was already dark enough so you settled on the yellow one. It was easy to slip into the jeans, zipping and buttoning the brass button at the top. You slipped into a bra and then tugged the blouse over each arm, moving to the full body mirror to button up the shirt.

Then panic seized you. Why can’t I button this? It was as if you physically could not remember how to button your shirt. It had been fine just moments ago. You felt a bubble of anxiety pushing up your throat in the form of a sob.

“No, how can this be.” You croaked to yourself and you couldn’t help but remember the scene from a week ago. It was as if you’d been transported back into that moment. The panic. The futile nature of the situation as you begged for your legs to work. To move as they should for a healthy 24 year old. You shakily brushed a hair from your face and tried again. No luck. Your fingers clumsily moved over the buttons, not able to make the right configuration to button up. You let out a cry of anguish and within moments, Jungkook appeared in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, staring at your reflection in the mirror. He glanced to your red eyes. You spun around, open shirt whipping around you.

“Kookie.” You said miserably. “I can’t button this.”

“Oh? Is that all?” He raised an eyebrow, obviously still concerned. He stood in front of you and his gentle fingers buttoned up the blouse.

“I don’t know what went wrong.” Your tears dripped onto your shirt. “I just-It’s like my fingers forgot.”

“It happens to the best of us.” He suggested, but even he knew there was something wrong.

“No, you don’t understand!” You took a shuddering breath in. “Why won’t my body cooperate anymore?!” You hyperventilated.

“Ah, Jagi, you should probably go get it checked out.” He murmured, looking at you with a soft gaze. You nodded numbly, clutching your hands around your arms and rubbing as if you were freezing.

“I know, I know.” You said pathetically. “I’m just scared of what they’ll tell me.”

You had looked up your symptoms. Google said you were going to die. You had scoffed at the time, but now you really felt like it might be right.

“I’ll go with you, love.” He said carefully. He then pulled you into a hug, letting you breathe in his scent. It was safe, in his embrace. You wanted to stay in it forever.

The doctor entered with a serious expression and your heart dropped, mouth instantly going dry. He sighed deeply, sitting on his rolling chair.

Jungkook squeezed your hand, seeming even more nervous than you.

“How long has this been occurring?” He asked, peering up from his glasses.

“Two weeks.” You answered.

“Uh huh.” He said automatically, writing down the symptoms. The doctor didn’t look like he was about to give good news. “Well, you’re definitely on the young side, but I think you have amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.”

“What?” Your head was spinning. How? You were so young. Everything went underwater, noises blurring out. Jungkook was madly inquiring what could be done, only to have his hopes dashed when the doctor explained it’s not exactly curable.

“Well, there are treatments that can prolong life, but it’s not curable.” The doctor tried to tell him. It was obvious that Jungkook was distressed and you were in a state of shock.

Leaving the doctor’s office was grim. Jungkook placed a soft hand on your arm.

“Are you okay?”

You wrapped your hand around his, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah. I saw it coming.” You breathed. “Google was right for once.” You tried to joke.

He didn’t seem in the mood, shoulders tense. “I don’t want your days to be numbered.” He shook with...anger? Sadness? You couldn’t tell. “I want to be with for longer than, than, than-” He stuttered. “than five years!”

“Well five years is what you get.” You said gently, oddly calm. You had purpose to your life. To live as much as you could. “So spend them well.”

“What do you want to do?” His gaze immediately softened, his hands came up to caress your face. You leaned in and kissed him passionately. He made a noise, caught off guard before wrapping his arms around you. You moved your mouths together in a well practiced dance. You slowly pulled away, leaving a little space, your noses almost touching.

“Right now?” You chuckled a little. “Right now I just want to run. I want to run until I can’t anymore.”

“Then let’s run.”

I run, run, run I can’t stop Run, run, run again I can’t help it This is all I can do anyway All I know is how to love you Run, run, run again It’s okay to fall Run, run. Run, again It’s okay to get hurt I’m alright, even if I can’t have you Pitiful destiny, point your finger at me (Run) Don’t tell me bye bye (Run) You make me cry cry (Run) Love is a lie lie Don’t tell me, don’t tell me Don’t tell me bye bye

#bts #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #angst #fluff #Oneshot #tatawrites #JJK #Run #non idol au

47 notes · View notes

captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Epilogue 1)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Meet Portia.

Word Count: 3483

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Wanda, Natasha, Sam, Steve, Pepper

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Childbirth, Premature Baby

A/N: I’d like to thank @take-me-to-ny for the idea of the first half of this epilogue. I know you’ve all been looking forward to finally meeting Portia and her time has come!

2 Years Later...

His heavy eyes were glued to the cardiac monitor before him and his soft pink lips parted slightly when he let out a shaky breath. He blinked away the slumber that threatened his eyelids as he looked over at Sharon Carter. “Push one of epi.” Dr. Barnes was rather hopeful as he watched the nurse push the syringe of Epinephrine into the premature infant’s delicate body, his eyes darting back to the monitor before he let out another sigh of disappointment. “No change. Heart rate’s at a thirty.” He knew that at twenty weeks, it was highly unlikely for this newborn to survive. At this rate, she probably had another hour or two before he would have to call it. But Bucky was not willing to give up, at least not yet.

The Dr. Barnes who had once claimed to have a cold dead heart would have given up at this point. But he was a different man now. Gone were his signature locks of dark hair? His beard rarely made an appearance nowadays, for he was always clean shaven. Rumor had it that it was his wife, the other Dr. Barnes, had once told him that she preferred his clean shave over the light stubble. Apparently, he had been shaving every single morning ever since in order to keep his wife happy. A husband of every woman’s dream, he really was.

His wedding band had been removed from his left ring finger when he had gotten into work that morning, but the tan mark was still quite evident. It had been burned into his skin by now, reminding everyone he came across that he was a married man. He was no longer the carefree Casanova of the hospital or the workaholic who always snooped around the premises to find a reason not to go home after his shift ended. He had built himself a whole life away from work now.

“She’s not going to make it, is she, doc?”

Bucky shook his head at Sharon. “At this rate, she could only keep going on for another hour or two.” He informed with a frown. “But I’m not giving up that easily...” He was well aware that both the mother and the father of this preemie were currently in surgery, having suffered a handful of serious injuries. They had been brought into the ER after an unfortunate car accident, causing Pepper to perform an emergency c-section on the mother to save their little one. He was unsure if either one of three of them would survive at this point, but he was hopeful. He was sure that her parents would want her to survive this and live on. After all, as a father to be himself, he would always want his child to live on. Knowing what it meant to be a father had really changed his perspective on how to be a doctor. Once again, he would give you the credit for making him better. “We still haven’t tried the oldest treatment in the book.”

Sharon had given the man a look of utter confusion, for she had been sure that they had tried everything that was medically possible to ensure that this newborn survives the day. She saw the numbers; she knew how common it was. Preemies who were delivered so early rarely make it through the first twenty four hours after birth. “What treatment?”

“I mean the treatment that a mother should always give her child.” He replied with a soft chuckle, tugging off his bright pink NICU gown. “But in this case, it will have to be me...”

Her eyes grew wide as she watched him remove his scrub shirt and toss is aside. “Bucky, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shhh!” He was quick to place his index finger against his lips. “Have you ever heard of the kangaroo care? Kangaroos keep their babies against their bodies. Skin on skin contact is proven to help newborns thrive. You know, that’s why babies are often laid on the mother’s chest right after they’re born. We encourage skin on skin contact to... allow for the mother and child to have this bond, yes, but also because of physiological reasons. This method was used long before incubators were invented and it is a lot more effective.” He told her. His large hands were gentle as they scooped up the tiny human; her head was barely the size of the palm of his hand. But he held her gently against his bare chest. “When I hold her like this, she’s able to... feel my warmth and her body picks it up too. She can feel my heart beating against her and... her little heart would also pick it up.” He motioned towards the monitor, the numbers finally having changed as the infant’s heart rate began to increase. “See that? This little one’s not ready to give up.”

“Oh... wow. That’s crazy... that’s amazing, she just... she’s really... I can’t believe I never knew about this until now.” The blonde haired nurse was slightly surprised, but she turned over to look at him when a smile. “You’re going to be such a good dad and you know that, right? You’re going to be the best dad in this whole entire world, man. You’re... so prepared and so... good with kids. You’re so good with kids. I still remember when Sarah was born and Steve made you the godfather. Boy, you were terrified about the responsibility but now, you’re... you’re going to be the best dad.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he paced slowly back and forth, looking down at the newborn as he spoke softly. “Hey, little one... I know it’s scary, I know you’re fighting... but you’re not alone, no. I got you... I’m here and... We’re going to get through this, okay? We’ll get through this together.” Holding onto this child at that moment, he could not help but wonder how it would feel to hold his own child in his hands one day. He had finally finished with the nursery last night and it was only a matter of time until you went into labor. He was excited for this new chapter in life, for fatherhood and for the two of you to have your little family.

As he was snapped out of his thoughts, he was quick to notice that he had managed to gather a small audience within the NICU. It was only a matter of seconds before a crowd had formed outside as well, those who passed by the NICU pressing their faces against the window to get a better look at the handsome doctor who stood shirtless with a newborn child. What a show! Some of the other nurses who had been keeping an eye on the newborns watched him rather fondly, the older ones nodding with approval. They were all aware that this man’s wife, their beloved Y/N, was due to give birth in a day or two.

Sam had been the first one to walk into the NICU in search of Sharon, his brows furrowed at the sight of his shirtless friend before his lips curled into a smirk. “I thought Y/N was the one who was pregnant. When did you start to lactate?” He asked with a mocking tone in his voice, leaning in to peck his girlfriend’s lips. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hi.” Sharon giggled at his remark.

“I’m saving a life here, Wilson.” He had told him with an eye roll.

“Right, you’re saving one life and... killing all the ladies.”

Then it had been Natasha, who had followed Sam into the NICU and just stood there with her hands on her hips. “Yeah... that’s right, fellas. My best friend bangs all of that!” She had announced as she motioned towards Bucky before turning to see the small crowd of interns. “Let’s move along! The abs and the man have been off the market for ages!”

Bucky let out another laugh as he walked up to her. “Romanoff, really?”

“You know, I just overheard an intern telling another one that you were standing half naked in the NICU. I just needed to see it to believe it.” She told him with a laugh. “Man, you do love a good audience, don’t you?”

Continuing to pace back and forth, he rolled his eyes at her. “I’m only doing what is professionally necessary, Natasha. I’m giving skin on skin contact to a newborn whose parents are both in surgery. It’s as simple as that.” As he turned over towards the door, his lips curled into a smile at the sight of you walking up to him. He had always believed that it was a myth for a woman to be glowing during pregnancy. But he had come to learn how true it was seeing you like this.

“Professionally necessary... right.” Sam snickered, hearing the commotion behind him and turning around to see you. “Of course, they run when they know they can’t be ogling at you with your wife around...”

Nine months pregnant and glowing as brightly as ever, your hand resting protectively over your bump as your swollen feet treaded across the tiled floor of the NICU. You smiled when you saw your husband, the way he stood shirtless with a newborn pressed against his chest making your heart swell. “Oh God...” You felt your eyes glaze over. “Is that the preemie?”

He gave you a nod. “Yeah, it’s her. She’s a little fighter.”

“Steve and Tony told me to let you know that the parents are okay. The police have contacted the family and they should be here soon.” You informed him, quickly wiping away your tears. “Sorry, my hormones are really...” Seeing that baby only made you want your baby to come sooner. You knew that it would only be a less than a week until your little girl would be born. But seeing Bucky like this did not help much.

Natasha watched you for a moment before wrapping her arm around you. “Seeing him like this just gets the oxytocin going, doesn’t it?”

You winced slightly as you felt a trickle down your legs, your eyes growing wide at the realization of what had just happened. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but you could care less about it. “Oh yeah... it sure does.” You looked over at Nat and then at Sam, swallowing the lump in your throat as you looked down at your feet. “Um... shit. This is really happening. This is really happening right now.” Who would have thought that seeing your husband shirtless and holding a newborn would cause you to go into labor?

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Natasha gasped as she looked down at your feet before looking back up at Bucky. “Barnes, why don’t you let the nurses take over for you and put your fucking shirt on?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he quickly nodded, handing his little patient to Sharon and reaching for his scrub shirt. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Thank God, this happened down the hall from Pepper’s office.”

One of the other nurses brought over a wheelchair for you to sit down.

“James!” You reached for his hand as he quickly put his shirt on, the tears continuing to stream down your face. “James, I can’t. I can’t... what if I’m not a good mom? What if... what if I turn out to be just like her? What if I... what if I ruin her life?”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Nat scolded you as she began pushing the wheelchair out of the NICU. “Honey, you’re going to be the best mom on the whole fucking planet. And look at this one; he’s going around giving skin on skin contact to these preemies. Just imagine how much more he’d do to your own kid.”

You knew that she was right. Your James was a perfect man in every way and you knew that he would be the best father your child could have asked for. “I know... but-”

“Y/N...” He cut you off as he stopped Nat from pushing your wheelchair and knelt down to reach you. His hands cupped your tear stained cheeks. “Hey, listen to me... we’re going to do this right now and we’re going to do this for the rest of our lives. We’re going to be the best parents our little angel could have asked for, because we’re better than that. We’re better together and we’re going to do this together, okay?”

You looked down at him as you sniffled, nodding your head slightly. “Promise me that she won’t ever... ever be put in a position where she would need to jump out of her bedroom window because freezing to death seemed to be a better option than living with us.”

“I promise... and you know, I’d never break that promise. I’ll love her more than I love you and I’ll always show her how much she’s loved.” He told you as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “I won’t let her go...”

As Bucky walked out of the OR after scrubbing out, it felt as though an entire day had passed while he had been in surgery. But it had only been four hours according the clock that was hanging on the wall before him. Four long hours since he had left your bedside to perform surgery on a patient whom he had been working with since had been a resident. One would think that being a new dad for a whole day would mean that he would finally jump at the chance of taking a break from work. But he could not stop worrying about that patient and you had insisted that you would be right where he left you when he got back.

Wanda Maximoff had been waiting for him as he walked down the hallway, handing him a cup of coffee as she followed him towards the elevator. “Don’t worry; it’s a lukewarm vanilla bean latte. Just chug it down before you get to the maternity ward and you can thank me later.” She told him with a chuckle, seeing his reaction when he accepted the cup from her. “You’re going to need to stock up on all of that caffeine for the next few weeks, dad.”

“How is she?” He asked her, downing his beverage in one go as he entered the elevator.

“Which ‘she’ are we talking about?”

“Both.” He replied, rolling his eyes at her as he tapped his foot anxiously. It had only been four hours since he had last seen his girls but it felt like more than that. He felt really impatient.

“Well, the mom... is okay. The bleeding has stopped a little, but she’s still in pain. I mean, why wouldn’t she be? She’s had to...” She let out a sigh, making awkward hand motions that could clearly not express what she was trying to imply. “My niece is an angel though. She sleeps like her mother but she doesn’t let her mother sleep, not that Y/N wants to sleep anyways. She needs it but she’s... can you go in there and convince her to get some sleep? Her body just went through one hell of a change and she needs to get as much rest a she can.”

Bucky let out a chuckle at Wanda’s words. “Got it.” As he got out of the elevator, he tossed his coffee cup in the trash can nearby before jogging down the hallway to where your hospital room was.

Portia Natalia Barnes was born at 11:28 am, almost two days ago now. She was crying at the top of her lungs as she came into this world, making up for all the quiet tears that her mother had shed during her childhood. The first time her father came in contact with her, his left hand had been clutching tightly onto her mother’s. His right hand had taken the scissors from Pepper to cut the umbilical cord. When she had been handed to her mother, she had stopped crying in an instant. It was as though she knew that her mother’s arm was where she was the safest. Her mother would keep her safe no matter what.

She weighed six pounds and nine ounces, a tiny little thing in your arms even though she had taken more than a push and a few tears to be brought into this world. Motherhood really was a reward to all that pain. “Portia.” You had whispered the moment you saw her, turning over to look at your husband. You both knew that there was no other name in this world that she could have.

When Bucky reached your hospital room, he had walked in to see his little girl fast asleep in your arms. He noticed that your eyes were heavy and he frowned, walking into the room to sit down at the edge of your bed. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, doll.”

“You look exhausted, James.”

“That is something to get used to.” He told you as he leaned over to gently kiss your forehead, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned his back against the pillow. “Those were the longest four hours of my life.”

“You should probably talk to Steve about going on that paternity leave. I don’t like that he’s making you work during a time like this.” You joked, your voice so quiet as to not wake her up. But she really was a heavy sleeper, like you, though you could not figure out how she manages to notice when you set her in the cot. Two days old and your little Portia had already gotten the intelligence of her namesake. “What a hypocrite.”

“Sorry, I had to leave like that. I’ve known the patient since I was a resident and I couldn’t not... be there, you know?” He told you as he bit down on his lip. He hated to have left you alone with your new daughter like that, even if it was for a few hours.

“Why are you apologizing, James?” You asked him as you shook your head. “You know I would have done the same thing, even though I... I can’t even stand up without feeling sore between my legs, let alone stand in the OR for hours on end.”

“If you had pulled something like this, I wouldn’t have let you go.” Bucky chuckled softly and looked down at Portia, his free hand gently rubbing against her head. He was extremely cautious, not wanting to hurt her even the slightest. He could not believe how the two of you had managed to create such a beautiful thing. “How is she?”

“She... hates sleeping in the cot and she cries unless I’m holding her. I’m pretty sure likes being watched when she’s asleep and Sam was insistent that she gets that from me.” You replied as you let out a yawn. “But she’s a heavy sleeper otherwise. I think she just... knows the difference between me and the cot already. It’s crazy.”

He noticed how tired you looked and nodded. “Let me hold her, doll. Rest your arms a little. You look like you need some sleep and... I just chugged an entire cup of coffee. I’ve got her.”

You nodded, smiling fondly at your husband, the father of your child, the love of your life. A wise man had once told you that we were all capable of building better lives for ourselves than what life had to offer us. You believed it now. Your life really was better.

Taking Portia from you, Bucky gently rested her against his chest while his free hand still held onto yours.

As you dozed off next against his shoulder, he looked down at his newborn daughter with a smile. “Hey, baby girl.”

Portia, who had woken up from the movement, did not make a sound as she starred up at her father. The way her wide eyes were glued at him, it was as though she had recognized him too. She felt safe in his arms as much as she felt safe in yours.

“I promise you, Portia. You might not remember this when you’re older but... I want you to know that I’ll make sure that your childhood is a thousand times better than your mother’s. I’ll make sure that you know how much you’re loved until the day I die. I love you and your mother so much and I’ll always do right by you both.” He told her softly as he nodded, leaning down to gently press his lips against her tiny forehead. “You are loved so much, baby girl. You’re loved so much by your old man.”

#aj writes #better #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #doctor!tony #better!bucky #dad!bucky

328 notes · View notes

evangelene · 4 years

Text

Despite What You Are (5)

Summary: Vampires don’t feed on blood, they feed on fear. So, why is yours so potent? Why were you saved by the most dangerous of all vampires–Kim Namjoon?

Based on this request:

“Can i ask for a ff where namjoon is a vampire mafia boss and has a spft spot for you. And you get into trouble woth a rival gang and he goes crazy? Fluffy and angsty 🌹”

Thoughts from the bedside

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

It was bright. Sunny, borderline too sunny—the first time you were seeing the outside world since your departure from the world due to a smoky shitpile of a vampire injury. There probably should’ve been more fear associated with the act, but it was real hard to be fearful when Namjoon stood by your side.

Perhaps that moment should have been your first clue to your inevitable fate. But you were dumb, always and forever.

Without thinking, you sunk down to the grass, feeling the heat of the earth seep into your bones. Even when you were at the hunter’s association, the only version of the outside you ever got to see was one covered in barbed, electric wire and asphalt that desperately needed to be replaced.

Nothing really ever lived there; even the weeds were nonexistent--as if even the Earth knew that place smothered everything that tried to survive.

You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on the side of your face as you closed your eyes to the healing power of nature Yeah sure, it was just some fucking grass—but for someone who hadn’t seen nor felt grass in several years, it was heaven. There was even a pathetic little tree within eyesight that looked like the tree of life to an environmentally starved human such as yourself.

“What was it like in the human compound—not the Hunters’, but the one you came from?”

“Mmm.” You didn’t open your eyes because, well, you didn’t want to yet. “It was home. I grew up there; I had parents, friends and a life that actually felt like a life. I went to school and graduated; I had plans to get married and have a steady job. I remember that it was a place that felt safe and felt like it would bring me happiness... It was a place where I could dream. I haven’t dreamt in so long—it was better not to then to be crushed by what couldn’t be.”

Namjoon was silent for a moment, contemplative. “I wonder what my dream was before you. I can’t seem to remember if I even had one.”

“Namjoon!” It was perhaps the most horrifying noise to have ever graced your throat—somewhere between a growl and a shriek that ripped your vocal chords and left dryness at the back of your tongue. However, with the wire wrapping around your waist--threatening to cut off circulation to your desperate, dragging feet--you couldn’t find it in you to care about the pain of your scream. Rather, you let out another.

“Namjoon!”

There were tears coming to your eyes before you could stop them, adrenaline injecting itself into your veins out of frustration. Garlic. It smelled like too much garlic and the metallic tang of blood. If you were in a better state of mind, you would have chuckled about the fact that you finally, finally got rid of the smell of garlic burned into your nostrils from years of soaking weaponry. Before you could scream again, a gloved hand enclosed around your mouth—that motherfucking radio buzzing with static before a voice you desperately didn’t want to hear reverberated through the streets.

Don’t let her escape.

Despite the fact that the blood running through your system turned to ice, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Namjoon, sandwiched between Taehyung and Yoongi as they looped their arms through his. His screams somehow made it past the rushing in your ears and the silence of your body loosing the majority of its senses.

You hated that you could still hear the sizzle of garlic hitting his skin, the god awful smell permeating your nostrils.

I’ve got a read on your location—I’ll send backup. Make sure she’s alive.

Suddenly, as if you hadn’t been thinking about it every waking second—as if you haven’t been planning on putting your life in the hands of some shoddy medicine to remove it—you remembered the implant the Hunter’s Association had placed within you.

Hey, at least now you knew it was a GPS, right?

Yeah that did absolutely shit nothing to comfort you and before you knew it there was a god awful noise that sounded more feline than humanoid ripping through your chest.

Like a tiny, miniscule insect caught in a widow’s web, you shook and struggled. Every limb flailed fingers and joints digging into every available surface area of the woman holding you hostage. Your hands came up to rip the stupid lens off her face—the fucking bullshit piece of technology that Hunters wore regardless of the time of day. You nearly managed to reach her eye before she jerked her head away, your legs trying to kick out the back of her knee in her distraction. In a final act of desperation, your teeth sunk into the leather of her glove, trying to break flesh.

The wire around your waist cinched tighter around you, digging into your skin as you let out a god-awful shriek. “Fuck off!” But it was muffled through leather and hunter’s fingers.

She’s being unreasonable. Sedate her.

Another hunter approached you, ready to help assist the woman holding you like a wild animal needing to be removed from someone’s home.

“Oh fuck no!” You spat, hoisting your legs up to press square against his chest, shoving with all of your weight to keep him at bay. You couldn’t go down yet. Not yet. Namjoon was hurt. Namjoon needed you and these people would have to do everything in their power to stop you from going to him if they had any hope of keeping you.

Not that you were strong. God you wished you were strong now more than ever.

One of the woman’s hands freed themselves to search through the pack buckled around her hips.

Your mind raced, trying to travel back to hunter’s training, trying to remember what sedatives they had—how quickly they took effect. Would you have time to escape before you went down? Would you make it back to them?

Would you make it back to Namjoon before it was too late?

Too late. Too late for who?

Your eyes scanned the battle wildly, hunters invading the corners of your visions like the black spots you see when you’re about to pass out. Through their backs, you could see Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin fighting them off in an attempt to get to you. Occasionally, one of them would look up at you and you could see their desperation increase in the power of a hit thrown to a human.

Y/N. I’m well aware that you can hear me.

Your laser focus slid back to the walkie at the female’s hip.

Your whole body froze at the sound of your name, one of your feet propped on the face of the hunter in front of you while your arms shook from the effort of holding back the huntress’ hand armed with a needle--far too close to your skin for comfort.

I want to personally congratulate you. When you come home, you can expect to see a medal waiting for you in your honor. You brought us directly to Kim Namjoon. You brought down the largest and most powerful clan on the entire continent—you should be proud. Despite your previous disobedience, I will have you know that your slate will be cleaned with this gift to us.

A year ago, the news would have been good to hear for yourself. One less clan? One less powerful ass vampire to threaten your life? Great. Excellent.

But, since the only remaining strand of fear currently inhabiting your body was for Namjoon and his safety, you realized that you were no longer that girl from a year ago. You were no longer afraid of the world outside your walls, you were no longer afraid of all vampires and you sure as hell had no fear for the people that you once were forced to consider comrades.

God, if you could spit in the General’s Assistant’s face, you would have hocked the biggest motherfucking loogie your body could offer.

“And what makes you think I want your useless medal?” You hissed, returning from the depths of your repressed memories to the present moment. With renewed vigor, you clamped your legs around the male hunter’s head. Every ounce of strength you owned went to your core and abs, lip curling as you began the process of crushing the motherfucker’s head. His hands reached up to claw at your thighs, his mouth gasping for breath as the woman’s efforts to save her fellow hunter distracted her from the bigger picture: you. Still using your strength to kill, you discovered the ability to multi-task long enough to snap the needle out of her weakened hand.

One threat down. For now.

Not to say she couldn’t grab another. Not to say you weren’t one more hunter away from being dragged back to the base camp.

Are you choosing their side?

You looked up to meet Hoseok’s gaze, as he was the closest and the most active in trying to get to you. He was the one within earshot; he was the one that was most likely going to bring you back to Namjoon or get hurt trying. And god did you love him for it.

(Vampires don’t make any sense)

“Yeah, well, humans don’t make much of it either.”

“You’re smart enough to answer that on your own.” You chuckled darkly, adjusting your grip on the man enough to be able to get a better grasp on his skull—the prior position obviously wasn’t working because…well… he was still breathing. The huntress behind you jerked you to the side in an attempt to remove you from the man you were smothering between your legs. However, it was the worst life-saving attempt you’d seen yet, considering you hadn’t let up on your vice grip and you had no intentions to do so.

All it did was snap his neck.

“But yes.” You murmured to his body as his hands slumped off your thighs and the huntress screamed out in rage directly in your ear. “I choose his side.” You slammed your skull back into her face, wincing at the throbbing of your eardrum.

The statement was all it took for Hoseok to take that final burst towards you, any concern for the bullets fired from the guns all around you lost in that moment. Your concern for his safety, however, only increased until you finally saw why he was no longer worried about the garlic soaked threats: Jimin was using the remainder of his strength to aid Hoseok (Small, almost invisible shields no bigger than a dinner plate—ten at max, so, considering Jimin’s weakened state, it was probably like five. The younger had told you about his ability one night when you were far too curious and far too drunk off some wine Jungkook raided for you).

If you had been in a less concerned state of mind, you probably would have noticed that his lips were moving in an attempt to convey a very important message to you. One that you blatantly ignored because one: it was loud as hell currently, and two: you were dumb.

Hoseok growled in frustration at you as you furrowed your brow on him, thrashing in the huntress’ grip whilst you tried (and failed) to read his lips. You would have absolutely bombed any whisper challenge.

It wasn’t until he was practically in front of you that you could finally make out what he was trying to say, and surprise! It wasn’t “Do apes eat chocolate?”

“Y/N! Cover your ears!”

“I think that Hoseok has the worst ability.” Jiwoo said during one of her bouts of oversharing. You two were similar in that aspect. Suddenly, when presented with a genuine friend willing to listen to your endless rambling, you both found silence impossible and filled it to the brim with ADD thoughts. “I mean, not the worst as in, like, useless—but worst as in fatal.” She made a face at the ceiling. “I said that wrong, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Jiwoo.” You, too, chuckled to the ever listening ceiling. “You did, but continue anyways. I really want to know now.”

“Well…like…how do I put this…” She paused. “Okay, well he can alter his vocal chords in a way that can bust the brains of whoever he chooses. It’s like a sonic scream—however it’s all dependent on the tone. He’s perfected the right note to kill humans within his radius. Vampires are another story; he’s been working on that one. Apparently vampiric brains vary too much to make it easy for him.”

In a heated scramble as the woman screamed “STAND DOWN” in your already aching ear, you wrestled your hands free—nearly slapping yourself in the process of trying to keep your brain in your head. You thought that having the precious organ leaking out your ears would not be an attractive or life-sustaining look.

The sound burst through your fingers anyways, shimmying through your ear drums until your head was shaking with the force of Hoseok’s screams. The people around you froze and twisted like they’d been shot, bodies contorting at impossible angles as if they were exploding from the inside out.

In the chaos, Hoseok was able to get close enough to you to slap his hands over yours as added cushion to the hell of his voice. Despite both layers of skin and bone, you still felt blood dribble down from your nose and onto your upper lip. You screwed your eyes shut and clenched your jaw against the dampened noise; god, you did not want to imagine what it would sound like with bare ears.

The huntress behind you finally slumped, the wire around your waist loosening to a puddle at your feet, now that the person holding it was no longer living.

When Hoseok’s hands finally lifted off of yours—it couldn’t have been longer than five seconds, even if it felt like an eternity to your dum hooman brain—your ears were still ringing.

But you were alive.

Which, honestly, was more than you could say for the fallen hunters strewn around you like dead flies.

You didn’t want to look behind you, but curiosity got the better of you and you wound up making eye contact with the woman who had been holding you hostage. Granted, her eyes were darkened and seeing nothing—but that didn’t stop the frozen look of pain on her face as blood leaked from every possible orifice. If you weren’t so preoccupied in your thoughts, you probably would have thrown up. Instead, you just spit the gathered blood in your mouth at the ground, frowning at the radio on her hip.

“If you can hear me, fuck you.” You mumbled, if only because your tongue felt heavy and the world was swaying around you. You doubted that he could; the words were for your own sanity, for your own control of your life. For Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Namjoon needed you.

You took one swirling look at Hoseok, nodding your thanks because you couldn’t remember how to use your vocal chords. Your first attempt at bolting back towards the compound was thwarted by the fact that your legs were now noodles and the ground was pitched at a drunken angle. Gracefully, you wound up slamming into the busted concrete in a pile of limbs. But, like the stubborn mule you were, determination had you back on your feet and plowing forward before you could even process the fact that you had actually fallen on top of a dead body.

There was a fierce ringing in your ears and every breath you took sounded too loud for the sudden silence of the universe but that one singular thought outweighed every earthly issue.

He chuckled softly. “You are a very interesting human, Y/N.”

Somewhere in the distance, in a faraway parallel universe where your body was but your mind wasn’t, you could feel the pain, exhaustion and agony of moving as fast as you were forcing yourself to. However, it was easily washed out by the pounding of your heart in your chest and the buzz of worry in your brain.

He still had the same smile though.

Bursting through the gates of the compound like a garlic soaked madwoman, you scanned the crowd of equally panicked vampires, failing to note the ones trying to direct you in favor of focusing on the most devastating sound you’d ever heard:

Namjoon’s agonized screams of pain.

Rushing out onto the warehouse floor, you noted that they had haphazardly tossed him onto a table, several vampires holding down his limbs in an attempt to stop him from writhing to the floor. A very unsure and emotionally unstable Taehyung was wiping at his neck in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood despite his thrashing.

Everything that had been burning hot in your body instantly hit its freezing point, suddenly making you unable to feel your extremities.

Mechanically, as if you knew you couldn’t touch him with your own bloodied, garlic-tainted hands, you ripped off large chunks of your shirt to wrap around them. You stepped towards him slowly, giving yourself enough time to prepare yourself for what you had to do.

However, you, yourself were at a lack of what that might be.

You couldn’t tear your eyes from him—everyone else disappeared around you as if he was the only remaining being on this planet besides yourself. He was sweating with a fever, his skin paling before your eyes.

Vampires don’t get sick.

“Namjoon.” You whispered, completely ignoring the concern of Taehyung by your shoulder. Gingerly, you placed your clothed palms against his chest to get better leverage for you to take a closer look at his wound. Luckily, it appeared that the bullet had just grazed his neck--which would have been fine for him were it a normal bullet. However, since it was garlic laced, the location was perhaps the worst spot in his body to receive such a wound.

Since it was in a place that was directly flowing garlic laden blood to a system that couldn’t handle the substance.

“Namjoon.” You whispered again.

He only let out a huff of breath and a pained grown, his eyes unable to focus on anything in front of him.

Get rid of it, you have to get rid of it. You have to take out the garlic. You have to---

Your hand reached up to cup his face, forcing his gaze to flicker to you.

“Namjoon, look at me please. If you can hear me, please look at me.” Your brow furrowed in determination. “Don’t close your eyes. I need you to stay awake. I need you to look at me. If you—if you close your eyes and I lose you then what was the fucking point of all of this?” You hissed because you wanted to shout but you couldn’t make yourself any louder than you already were.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you watched cool droplets pepper his skin.

Shakily, he freed one hand from the vampires holding him, slowly reaching up to brush away your tears intermingled with blood; his blood or yours, you didn’t know.

You could feel it then, whatever “it” was. You could feel him. You could feel his pain, his fear, his worry. You could feel what he was thinking without being able to process it into words. And, in that moment, you knew you would risk it all for him.

Because….because….

Because I love you.

“Trust me.” You murmured, leaning into his touch before shifting to get a better grasp on him.

Water wouldn’t work, and with a lack of medical knowledge or equipment, there wasn’t a better way to get rid of the poison in his system.

So you did what only a human could do. You leaned down, feeling the heat of his fever radiate a scorching energy across your skin as you got closer to the wound. Swallowing one last free breath, you steeled your nerves and latched your lips around the wound.

You took an experimental bite, gathering as much blood as you could in your mouth before leaning up to spit the garlic laden liquid into the hem of your destroyed shirt. The second time you went in, he jolted against you—his body letting out an awful groan that quickly became a borderline scream. It took every bit of muscle you didn’t have to hold him down and repeat the process.

In that moment, you felt like an honest to god vampire—the ones from the history books; the ones that turned out to be incomparable to the real ones. The ones prior to the War of 2048. The ones that drank blood and lived in the darkness and didn’t understand humans as a source for anything but food.

The ones that wouldn’t be able to grasp your free hand as tightly as the one beneath you.

You continued until you couldn’t taste garlic anymore, until his skin slowly returned to its normal, honeyed color. You continued until the vampires around him could release him because he was no longer shaking uncontrollably. You continued until his sweat broke and the heat of his skin no longer scalded yours, until you couldn’t take the continued taste of his blood—until it became more metallic than sweet.

In a final gasp of breath, you spit the remainder into your soaked shirt, lifting your head to wipe at the smear of blood on your chin.

His eyes bore into your face with a clarity that relieved the majority of your worries.

He still couldn’t move properly, and he still wasn’t fully himself because, naturally, it would take a while for him to gather back his full strength. But what mattered was that he was here now. He was alive and there wasn’t enough garlic remaining in his system to threaten his life.

Taehyung handed you a fresh rag, allowing you to press it against Namjoon’s wound as he coughed. His words were weak, but you were hyper focused on him and could have heard them even if he didn’t make a sound. “This…” He coughed again. “This wasn’t what you wanted.”

Your eyes felt like they were being held open with toothpicks, your body succumbing to exhaustion now that the adrenaline was quickly leaving you behind. Despite it all, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his worry. “No. This wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I…” He licked his lips. “I’m not what you wanted.”

You brushed his damp hair off of his forehead, continuing to hold pressure to his neck. You couldn’t help the gentle smile you gave him. He was cute.

This vulnerable version of him was cute.

“No.” You murmured. “No you weren’t.”

You could see the smile in his eyes, if only because his face had trouble making any expression other than tired pain. “But you stayed.”

You could have left. You could have let them take you back to the humans.

But you didn’t.

He didn’t have to say it for you to hear it, for you to read it in the features of his face.

You nodded, feeling your heart go rogue against your sternum. “I did.” You chuckled. “I did.”

~.~

You rested your head against the wall of the bathroom, brow furrowed on the ceiling. Every ounce of your energy was zapped into oblivion, leaving you a heaping mess on the floor of the restroom you’d been banished to.

In the wake of their clan leader being injured, you’d been removed from his side to go clean up—however, with the six currently occupied, the other vampires deemed you dangerous (what with your garlic hands) and, unbeknownst to the people who gave a shit about you, you were forced to take care of yourself. That, however, was hard to do when you were a walking injury who found out she could no longer move.

Not like you could blame the vampires though, as far as they were concerned, you were a walking weapon. And, well, they didn’t really understand the human body’s limits—the only people who did were otherwise occupied.

Of course, that didn’t change the slight sting of loneliness in your bones. Honestly, you were spoiled being around people who cared about you for more than the title of your chess piece.

It made you want to continue to be cared about.

Well, it was your fault that you made yourself a garlic bomb during a vampiric battle.

Battle? Were you really part of a battle? Did you seriously live through a battle?

Who the fuck were you now? Some freaking heroine in a dystopian novel?

With a scoff that determined you were no longer going to mope and feel sorry for yourself, you weaseled your way up into a sitting position—albeit with too much effort and a heaving amount of pain that had you wincing and biting your cheek to stop from crying out.

“Okay, Y/N. Next step.” You murmured to yourself, grabbing the edge of your destroyed shirt. “You can do this.” You managed to get the fabric to your shoulders before you forehead broke out into a sheen of sweat and you gasped out a pathetic noise of pain at your aching and bruised muscles. “Okay, girl, maybe you can’t do this.”

It was at that moment, with you pathetically bearing your ruined bra to the universe inside the bathroom walls that the door burst open with absolutely no hint of delicacy.

You honestly couldn’t find it in you to give a shit as you tilted your head up to meet the intruder’s gaze.

Jiwoo’s angered stare met yours, the rage transforming into worry within one millisecond as she caught sight of you pathetically slouched on the tile. You didn’t get a chance to speak or unpack any of her emotions before she was letting out a snarl.

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Who?” You would have been scared if she didn’t look like she was going to cry. If your arms weren’t dead weight in your lap and if you legs could work you would have hugged her.

“Everyone. The people that did this to you, the vampires that thought you could fix yourself on your own, you for getting into this mess--everyone.” You hadn’t realized she had been holding the door open until she fully stepped inside and let it slam behind her with an earthquake thud.

You only nodded stupidly, your gaze cast down to your hands and the bloody, smelly mess that they had become. “I have garlic on me.”

She crouched down, grabbing the non garlic soaked bit of your shirt to remove it entirely before tossing it into a corner. You didn’t miss the way her lip curled at it in disgust. “So?” Her voice was soft in comparison to the steel of her features as she crouched down in front of you. “I can’t believe they left you all alone in here. How are you supposed to care for yourself in this state?”

The longer she squatted before you, the longer she assessed the damage done to your body, the deeper the crease between her brows got. It would have been a shame if she gave herself wrinkles, she was pretty.

“What about Yoongi? The others? They need more attention than me—“

“Y/N.” She cut you off grabbing both of your hands despite the grit of her teeth as the garlic sizzled into her skin. If only because you were afraid she would hurt herself further, you let her lift you to your feet so she could help you wash the blood and pasta sauce from your hands. It was definitely her doing the lifting too; you were more ragdoll than human at the moment. “I won’t let you be alone. Not right now.”

You stared at your feet, letting her take care of you—refusing to meet your own stare in the cracked and dirty mirror above the sink. Who wanted to look at themselves when they knew they were the reason for everything that just happened? She reached over to the first aid kit that had been tossed in the room with you earlier, frowning at the pathetic array of medical equipment garnered for you. “There’s not even anything to scrub you with.” It seemed her disdain for the vampires that left you in here by yourself was only growing by the second, her anger a ticking time bomb. You felt she didn’t know what else to be—you felt like she felt as helpless as you did.

“Ji, its fine, really—“ But, when you lifted your head you could see her taking her shirt off behind you, dunking the fabric into the sink before you could even form any words. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m taking care of you.” She said simply, grabbing your arm to begin cleaning the stale blood from your skin. “Because you can’t and he can’t and no one else will.”

“I can do it.” You murmured weakly, but if it weren’t for her grasp on you, you would probably have collapsed to the floor; even she could see that. Your eyes followed the path she cleaned, wincing at the pain that came with the archeology of healing. Underneath layers of dirt and blood you both discovered the cuts and bruises—the threatening fractures that had you making pathetic noises in the back of your throat. You discovered the pain that settled into your bones and made you immobile; even you didn’t know just how bad your injuries were. You hadn’t really had the chance to figure it out in the wake of Namjoon.

But the masochistic part of you said that it wasn’t enough pain—you should have more. You should be dead—you should—

“Why?” Jiwoo whispered, her voice hoarse. “Why would you put yourself in danger like this? Namjoon—he could have handled it himself.”

You knew that. A deep-set part of you knew that. As her shirt turned washcloth soothed the heated ache in your back with cold water, you knew that everything you did was in vain. Even sitting there, safe and sound in an abandoned bathroom, you could still hear Namjoon’s screams. You could still hear the buzz of the walkie talkie’s feedback.

You could still smell garlic.

“He could have.” You murmured.

All your fault, Y/N. This is all your fault. If you weren’t so stupid he would have been alive and well and completely fine.

So would that Hunter you were partnered with.

Jiwoo’s gaze softened on you, her forehead resting against your temple. “If it was Yoongi, I know I would have done that same. But you and I—we are different species, you have to know that. You matter too much, Y/N. What would we do without you?”

You felt tears building in your eyes, that pathetic, fragile spine of yours folding easily to your fear, your blame and your guilt. You were nothing if you weren’t weak-willed, a human afraid of everything.

Especially herself.

“I wanted to keep him safe.” You whispered. “I’m nothing special, just a dumb human. But he’s done all of this for me and I—I-I—“

Jiwoo’s arms were around you before you could think properly, the pain in your bones a punishment you bared with all the grace of gritted teeth and a yelp of pain that you swallowed in your chest. Her hugs were a force to be reckoned with, because they were usually the contact you got when you needed it most.

“You are incredibly special.” Her anger tried to punch through your thick skull like a lobotomy needle, quick, sharp and to the point. “You aren’t special just because Namjoon is your mate, not just because you’re a small, fractional possibility in a sea of normality. You aren’t special because your fear tastes like what I imagine your human sugar tastes like to you. You are special because you are Y/N. There is only one you; no one can replace you.”

“Everyone is replaceable.”

She shook her head. “No. Not everyone is. Not everyone can make Hoseok laugh so loud that he breaks the glass to the oven. Not everyone can make Taehyung distract enough to get lost during missions because he was looking for a game—if only because he now has someone who wants to play with him. Not everyone can make Seokjin smile like we’ve never seen in years. Not everyone can make Jungkook control himself around a human as much as you can; if only because he wants to be your friend so bad that he forces himself to do the impossible. There hasn’t been a single person—vampire or human—to understand me the way you have. Not everyone can stand up to a room full of vampires when it is obvious that they shake at the mere sight of them. Not everyone can dare to shoot a gun at death and still be standing of their own accord. Not everyone can stand in the middle of two species and find peace with what they had always considered their enemy. And for sure, there isn’t another person on this planet that could make Namjoon fight as hard as he is for you. Y/N, there is absolutely no one else like you. If you were not here, we would all suffer.”

At some point, during her speech that could have moved mountains, her thumbs had come up to brush away tears you hadn’t realized had been falling. It was a lot to say you were worth it when this mess was caused by you.

It’s all your fault he’s hurt.

“But I couldn’t save him.” You whispered.

Her hug was unrelenting, her care momentarily forgotten in the wake of your emotional trauma. “You did.”

“But it was my fault that it happened in the first place.”

“It was the Hunter’s Association’s gun, not yours.”

“But—but I am a Hunter.”

She pulled back to asses you, her eyes flitting across your face as if she was trying to figure out if this was truly a person she knew. “Are you?” Her brow furrowed on you. “Have you ever killed a vampire, Y/N? Hell—“ She scoffed. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“My--my actions caused people to die.”

The trees became made of blood, the petals falling bits of bone that dislodged from the branches. In the shadows you could see clawed hands reaching for you, pitch black eyes boring into yours as it grabbed your wrists and—

Jiwoo lifted your hands to your line of sight. Her hands weren’t clawed; her nails were blunt and normal around your wrists—gentle, even. Her eyes were clear and kind and didn’t whisper death threats in your ear. “These, Y/N. Have these hands ever taken life?”

You stared at her; the force of your nightmare dissipating around you launched you into a state of shock. It was a ghost that had haunted you, a shadow that never removed itself from you—something you could never get rid of.

But in the bathroom, there were no trees and there was no blood but your own.

You still had your guts in your stomach and you heart in your chest.

You shook your head.

She smiled, blinding in the close proximity. “Then you are not a Hunter, you are Y/N, a very special human. My most special human friend, someone I could not live without.”

The tears that fell could have been from the pain and exhaustion, from the relief of thinking you lost Namjoon, from the realization that your life was inextricably changed forever. But, for the first time in forever, you wanted to believe that they came from happiness.

It was funny how a vampire could be more human than humanity itself.

~.~

It was strange, to say the least. An odd feeling to have the roles reversed; like you were in a parallel universe where you were stronger than Kim Namjoon, the clan leader of the century. It didn’t feel right for you to be sitting curled up in the chair while he lay injured and breathing heavily on the bed. How long ago was it that you woke up to those golden eyes? How long ago was it that you were in that bed while he was in that chair?

How long was it that you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere he wasn’t?

It had taken Jiwoo a tremendous amount of effort to get you upstairs and to the room—despite protests from both her and Taehyung who insisted that you get your own rest in a more comfortable place such as their own plush beds. However, you told them you wanted the chair; you told them that you wanted to see him—that you needed to be there. With pity in their eyes, they obliged if only because, by now, they knew you could be unreasonably stubborn when you wanted to.

It was a painful fold, no matter how you situated yourself in the furniture, you couldn’t get comfortable. Everything felt swollen and injured, threatening to tear your skin at the seams and spill all your metaphorical stuffing to the floor. But you wanted to be there.

It should have been boring, honestly. Sitting there aching and in pain and just staring at him as he slept should have been the epitome of torture. But it wasn’t. There was something that stilled the panic inside of you just by watching him rest. Despite the way your fingers fiddled at your chest, you felt comfort in watching the rise and fall of his breaths. It didn’t help your nails from scratching at your skin as if you could reach through your own skin and rip out the device to blame for all of this. If you could have, you would have gone back in time and forced him back sooner. You wouldn’t have laid there on the asphalt like a tired heap of a human, you would have remembered about Jisung’s teleporter.

Maybe then this wouldn’t have been your fault.

But no what ifs and no time controlling could transfer this blame. Even the soft words from Jiwoo couldn’t erase the guilt settling in your gut. Nothing could stop the cacophony of sound from reverberating in your skull, bouncing through your brain until all you could hear was the endless repetition of “My fault. It’s my fault.”

Even when you screwed your eyes shut in the hopes that the loss of one sense would erase them all, it couldn’t stop the unbidden image of Namjoon falling as he screamed in pain. Nothing could uninstall that frame of mind you had when you thought that you were going to lose him forever. You were afraid like you hadn’t ever been.

You’d never had a need to be afraid for another person, because you’d never had any people you loved more than yourself.

You didn’t want to be in this world if Namjoon wasn’t; you didn’t want to imagine a life without him in it.

In that moment, your body went lax, a chuckle escaping you as the tears burst past the gaps in your eyelashes. You had to give up to move on. You had to give up because there wasn’t any way you could lie to yourself any longer.

You loved Kim Namjoon. More than you’ve ever loved anyone, more than you think you’d ever love anyone else.

He wouldn’t understand the sentiment, he wouldn’t reciprocate in the way you wanted him to, but it was better to have what you could than nothing at all, right? He cared for you, and that was enough—that had to be enough.

With a heavy sigh, you peeled open your eyes, tilting your head back to the spot where you knew Namjoon would be.

However, you didn’t expect to meet the intensity of his golden gaze in that exact moment. You didn’t expect him to be awake, one eyebrow raised at you as you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of an injured man coherent.

“What is so funny?” He murmured, his tone shifting the moment he caught the quick sight flash of a tear kamikaze-ing down your cheek. “Why are your eyes wet?”

You let out a bark of laughter, unable to help the sudden onslaught of fresh tears running wild. “It’s called crying, stupid.”

“But why?”

You loved him. You loved him so much.

Your eyes met his once more and you shook your head, your lips twisting into a sad version of a smile. “I don’t even know anymore.”

Letting your extremely unhelpful answer slide for the moment, his eyes flit across your features to linger heavily on the bruising evident from the blown out collar of your shirt—his piercing stare especially zeroed in on the blood seeping through the fresh bandages on your hands.

You could sense his hatred and anger without him ever uttering the words; you could taste it in the air as it soured on the back of your tongue. All he had to do was look at you for you to know what he was thinking.

Was it the same for him?

You rested your chin in the palm of your hand in an attempt to hide some of the damage from his probing stare. “I’m fine, honestly. You…” you took in a sharp breath. “You almost weren’t.”

He sunk his head back into the pillow underneath him, however his gaze never wavered from you. “Humans are more fragile than I will ever be—you were also almost not fine.”

“Perhaps. But at least I didn’t have artery exposure to a substance I’m deathly allergic to.” You murmured, raising one eyebrow back at him.

He pursed his lips at you, an ever present crease gathering between his brows. “Touché.”

There was a brief moment where it was just the two of you, meeting each other’s stare. Naturally, you had to be the one to look away first, finding solace in the way your hand curled around the fabric of your jeans. It was easier than trying to decipher what that glimmer in his gaze meant.

However, this time he was the one to break the silence first. “I’m sorry that I did not tell you what we were going out to do.”

You shrugged. “I want to say its fine, that I am overly emotional about a lot of things for no reason. But it’s not.”

He nodded. “It is not my intention to exclude you from these happenstances; however I value your life over your temporary satisfaction.”

“Will this be a long-term issue?”

“I hope to clear this mess as quickly as possible, as Jisung has decided to make himself far more annoying than initially planned.”

You bit your lip, your fingers kneading into the sore flesh of your thigh through the fabric. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? All of this. You wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for me.”

“Y/N, while it is true I may not have been a clan leader if it weren’t for your existence, I would still find myself in a similar predicament. We want to protect our mates.”

“You were born to be a clan leader.”

His eyes sparked with something you couldn’t yet name and you didn’t dwell on it for fear of your thoughts leaking into his. “I appreciate the compliment. I would appreciate it even more if you quit blaming yourself for the results of Jisung’s confrontation. This is not your fault—my injury is not your fault.”

“The tracking device is in me, it is my fault.”

He let out a long-winded sigh. “Is that what this is about? Something that the humans did to you? Do you now blame yourself for their faults as well? What they do to me, what they have done to you, is also not your fault.”

“But—“

“Y/N.” He slowly extended one hand out towards your chair, his fingers long and inviting—they looked like they might be real nice to lace through yours. “Come here.”

You didn’t move despite the fact that there was a tantalizing offer on the table, instead, you swallowed and forced yourself to face him with all of your mouse bravery. “I thought I was going to lose you from this. I thought that this was it, that I wasn’t going to see you alive anymore because of this stupid device. I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if…if…if…”

“If I died?” That damn eyebrow of his was at it again, incredulously raised just to mock you.

You gulped despite the fact that your mouth was dry. “Yes.”

His eyes were warm, warm in the same way that protected you years ago, warm in the way that engulfed you while attacking Jisung, warm in the way that only Kim Namjoon could be. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon; death is improbable because I have you.”

You felt your face heat up like a kettle on the stove, slowly seeping up your neck until the tips of your ears were burning. You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you embarrassed, but his words hit too suddenly for you to recover quickly.

“Besides, we now have matching scars.” He gestured to his bandaged and immobile shoulder before going back to offering you that extended hand.

Like the shittiest matching couple’s outfits.

“I would equate it more to couple’s tattoos—I saw those in one of those mating movies.”

You shook your head, too tired to correct his entire being in the moment. “That’s a curse, not a sign of affection—don’t you know those always end horribly?”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, will you just take my hand?”

“You need to sleep.” You whispered, despite the fact that your fingers were already reaching out to brush across his.

It took little to no effort for him to snap his hand around yours, ripping you from the sheltered safety of the chair and into his side as if that was the place you belonged. However, you could see a sheen of sweat break out across his skin from the effort exerted to move you like a ragdoll.

“You’re going to hurt yourself further! You’re still healing!” You snapped, though it had no bite with the heat emanating from your tomato cheeks at the close proximity to his face. You were absolutely, 100% sure that he could feel the way your heart jack-hammered against your sternum.

“Well you weren’t making it easy, so I had to do something.” He mumbled like a kicked puppy, wrapping his good arm around your shoulders to keep you pinned to him. “Besides, you’re warm in the way I like. You are a natural healing agent.”

“Stop saying embarrassing stuff!”

“But I like the way it makes your face turn different shades of burnt.”

“You’re lucky I don’t want to hit you because you’re injured!”

But he only laughed, the sound vibrating through your bones. “I am, aren’t I?”

You buried your face into his good shoulder so he could no longer get the satisfaction of flustering you with his being. “Stop watching romance movies—you’re getting cheesy.”

“What’s cheese?”

You groaned, reaching up to cover his eyes with your hand. “Just go to sleep already, would you?”

~.~

“You’re going to have to feed if you’re going to have any hope of getting off of that bed.” Yoongi’s glare was unrelenting; his arms crossed and frown permanently creased into his features. However, it appeared that Namjoon was otherwise distracted, his attention solely focused on you and Seokjin as he assessed your injuries. “Yah! Are you even listening?”

“No.” Both you and Namjoon spoke at the same time, much to your scowl and his shit-eating grin.

“He’s too busy focused on the person who’s been able to walk around and move just fucking fine this past week while he’s still bed-ridden and glued to a mattress.” You grumbled under your breath, wincing as Seokjin slipped a needle under your skin.

“What are you doing?” Namjoon asked instead of answering either you or Yoongi’s retorts.

“I’m giving her something to help with the swelling.” Seokjin murmured. “However, perhaps you should take the advice of your colleague and your mate and focus on yourself in the meantime.” He hit a particularly sore spot, whispering apologies as you pressed your lips into a line to unsuccessfully disguise the grunt of pain.

“I want to know what it is. I want to know how to help her—I don’t want to rely on you for everything.”

Dead puppies dead puppies. Daisies. Dogs. You missed dogs. It’d been a long time since you’d seen a dog.

You focused your ADHD thoughts on literally anything but the fact that you were relying on Seokjin for far more than making you better—you were relying on him for a secret that, if Namjoon were to catch, the two of you would be screwed. Well, maybe not you, but boy would you be pissed if you couldn’t get this fucking thing out of you. And you kinda sorta liked Seokjin enough that you really didn’t want to see him without a head.

“That is a concern for later, Joon. You can’t learn when you’re getting a fever from lack of food.”

It was almost cute how Namjoon pouted at the rejection. It was kind of cute how he wanted to be the one to be by your side always if it wasn’t for the fact that you were a strong independent woman who---

Who were you kidding, it was hella cute. You felt like a romance novel heroine living up the dream with her hot vampiric mate.

Well, if it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t the least bit the heroine that anyone would write about.

“Besides, she’ll be fine. She’s surprisingly durable for a human.”

Namjoon scoffed. “You hadn’t seen her the first time.”

“I can imagine based on the state of the second time.”

“Hey.” You waved your hands in the air like an idiot, smacking Seokjin extra if only because you couldn’t do the same to Namjoon. “I’m still here guys.”

Seokjin only chuckled. “For now. Make another mistake and you might not be. You have to be more careful.”

“Yeah yeah.” You groaned, even though everyone in the room could fully tell that you had absolutely no intention of doing just that as long as Namjoon’s life was on the line. Well, Seokjin especially—what with the time for your plan coming quicker than either of you were properly prepared for.

“So are you going to feed or what?” Yoongi snapped, causing you to hide a burst of laughter behind your hand.

Namjoon glared at the elder. “If you carry me. I am not about to expose her to that.”

So you become a toddler when you are bed-ridden and can’t move.

“I heard that.” He snapped.

“You were meant to.” You chuckled, sticking out your tongue until Seokjin tested your reflexes by slapping his hand against your knee, causing you to let out a quick yelp that had everyone in the room laughing.

~.~

He was basking in the afterglow of his meal, and despite the fact that he probably just killed a human, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. He looked the healthiest he’d been in days; it was amazing what the required nutrients could do to a being.

“Shouldn’t you be scared?” He murmured as you wiped a rag down his face to clean up the blood splattered there. It wasn’t his, that much you knew.

“Probably.” You murmured, tilting his head to the side to gain access to his neck. Somehow he even managed to get it along his collar bones. There was a big part of you that knew you should have thought about the person behind the blood, the person whose fear made this vampire so healthy—the person who’s life had to end for his to continue. But, with no body and your worry otherwise focused on Namjoon’s healing, you felt more like a mother cleaning up a toddler who just shoved their face in chocolate cake. “But there are sacrifices for everything, aren’t there?”

“There are. But am I worth those human lives?”

You wanted to tell him yes, to say that he was far more important than any of those lives—but that was selfish of you and that was your heart talking over your mind. So instead, you remained silent and let the quiet in the air force you to choose your words carefully.

“Did you…did you kill them?”

“I did today.” He murmured, refusing to meet your gaze. “Does that upset you?”

You dried his face with the clean cloth, shrugging. “Not as much as it should. From what I understand, you’re a picky eater.” And it was the honest truth; you were surprisingly okay for it for someone who literally puked the last time she even thought about a dead body.

He snorted, his eyes glued somewhere towards the wall. “I don’t usually.” He whispered, almost as if he was afraid of your answer. “I don’t usually kill them—humans at least. Hunters are different, but the ones that are brought in from the enclaves I don’t like to destroy.”

“You have to keep them around as a food source. Right?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not that. I just feel…they were left behind by their own people. They were sacrificed for their own kind—it’s not right to me to take what little they have left from them.”

“You pity them?”

“I suppose I do.”

You sat back on your heels, staring at the side of his face if only because he wouldn’t meet you head on. It was one of the rare occasions where it appeared that the most fearsome clan leader in all of the continent seemed afraid himself.

It was quiet, if only because you knew he had more to say—more to get off his chest. So you waited until he turned to face you, to ask you the question burning at the back of his throat.

“Do you hate me for it?”

“For killing?”

He nodded and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. “I have never seen you like this before. What made you show this side of yourself to me?”

“You make me question my entire existence Y/N. I don’t know humans; I don’t understand how they think. I prefer your smile to your face when it lets loose water—“

“When I cry.” You murmured stupidly.

“When you cry, yes. I dread your fear more for your sake than my own. When I picked you up off the street so long ago and brought you back here, I thought I could handle it if you despised me. But now, I don’t think that I could.”

It took your breath away, how honest he was. He was always honest, albeit grumpy and sometimes irritating. But he could say these things to your face; he never hid his feelings from you—his thoughts and his worries. That was more than you could have said for yourself. How did you come to deserve someone like him when you were so….flawed?

“I don’t hate you for being what you are. I’m not afraid of you for killing.” You rolled your tongue along your teeth, trying to find the right words in the hodgepodge whirlwind running through your mind. “I mean, I don’t want to see you feed. I don’t want to watch you kill because I have the spine of a coward and I would probably be afraid in that moment. But of you? Never. Not anymore. Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon you are my…. My….”

“Mate?” He whispered, his eyes searching your face as if it had the answers to questions he had yet to ask.

You shook your head. “Despite what you are, Kim Namjoon, I am yours.”

You couldn’t say he was yours, you didn’t own him. He was the leader of a clan; he was the property of many peoples. He couldn’t give you all of himself like you could give to him. He couldn’t give you the love you wanted, but you could give him yours. It was the truth, a double edged sword that both healed and hurt you at the same time. But that was what it was like to love someone like Kim Namjoon.

And if that was the most you could have then you would run with it until the end of the world.

He cocked his head at you, still trying to decipher the meaning behind your stance. “You told me you were not property.”

You let your shoulders slump, a horrible groan ripping from your throat as you fought back the redness of your ears with every fiber of your being. “For the love of God, you are the densest fucking vampire ever.”

“I don’t understand.”

You snorted. “I know, but that’s okay for now. For now, you have to get better so you can get that pea brain of yours working properly.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, enjoying the way that your laughter enticed his own.

~.~

“Namjoon?” You murmured to the quiet of the room, carefully watching the even rise and falls of his chest. “You awake?”

It was a whisper, but you knew, if he were conscious, he would hear it. Recovery had been hard on him; it was a slow process that took time and effort. But, you felt that he was just now beginning to get to a place where you could be positive that he would be fine. You needed him to be fine before you did this. You needed him to be fine but immobile—because then he couldn’t stop you. This was prime timing for what you were about to do, for the crazy decision your idiot ass was about to make. You knew if you didn’t gun for it now, you would never get a chance like this again.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly, ever so slowly, shifted towards the edge of bed.

Carefully, watching his every waking breath and move, you peeled yourself from the bed without so much as a squeak from the loudest mattress springs on planet earth.

Padding to the door like a kid trying not to wake their mom after curfew, you gave him one last parting glance over your shoulder. “I’ll be back.” You nodded to him as if he could actually hear you--as if that could still the rapid thumping of your heart in your chest. You swore you could feel the beat in your throat.

It was a lie that you wanted to believe. You didn’t know if you’d be back, you didn’t know what was going to happen in the span of a few hours. Maybe you wouldn’t be, but you had to have hope if you wanted your feet to move out into that hallway.

With the door closed gingerly behind you, you took a moment to stare at the wood. It was imperative that you gained your resolve once more before continuing onward.

This was for him; this was to prevent incidents like this. You didn’t want to be to blame if they humans came again, you didn’t want to be the cause of his death. You were absolutely positive that you wouldn’t be able to handle it all a second time.

Seokjin was already standing outside the door, quietly waiting for you to meet his gaze. You could feel the heat of him by your side. Patient but ready.

You were thankful for him now more than ever.

Without a word, you nodded to him and the two of you set off outside.

~.~

You busied yourself by playing with the scalpel on the table next to you instead of focusing on the bright ring lights, on the metal table under your ass and the button up shirt you wore for easier access to your chest. You tried to not think about the fact that soon your organs would be exposed to the air in the shed--hat soon you would be either dead or better for it. But, well, that pretending was becoming increasingly harder to do.

“You did a real good job cleaning this place up, Jin.”

“I can taste your fear, Y/N. There’s no point in hiding it now.” He murmured, his back turned to you as he thoroughly scrubbed at his hands. “But thank you. I had to make sure it would be a proper place to do this.”

“You even fixed the floorboards—I didn’t figure you one for carpentry.”

He chuckled. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I suppose.” You could see yourself in the polished metal, how haggard your face was, how your expressions belittled your resolve. “If I really start to get afraid, you won’t kill me, right?” It was a horrible squeak that made you hate your rabbit tendencies all the more.

“I won’t. I have far more restraint at a mere human’s fear.” He chuckled. “Yours included.”

“That’s the first time that ‘mere human’ feels like a comforting phrase coming from a vampire.”

He shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together. “We don’t have to do this now, Y/N. We don’t have to do this at all. There are other options—other—“

“No.” You shook your head, setting the scalpel down as Seokjin grabbed a pair of latex gloves he had set by the sink. “We’ve come too far and done too much. We’re doing this.”

“Are you sure?”

“100%” You smiled, though it felt more grimace than smile. It seemed to work for Seokjin, if only because you bet he knew by know that you were stubborn and scared and jumped into things head-on without thinking. If you decided that this was what you were going to do, then he had no power to stop you.

He started towards you, towards the little table he’d procured for his medical supplies. His fingers ghosted over the anesthetic he chose—an oral one, since the last thing he needed was further fear attracting others to you. Needles were a hard pass in a compound full of vampires who could taste fear in the air.

He lifted the prepared cup, handing it over to you.

You, for your part, were surprisingly calm as you started down at the liquid—translucent red, like a punch or a fruity drink. It most definitely was not, but one could pretend.

“Don’t make this be the last time I see your face, okay?” Your voice was weak despite the smile in your statement. “And Namjoon…if he—“

“You’re coming back, Y/N.” Seokjin murmured. “I won’t let you die on this table.”

“I know.” You smiled, heaving out the deepest of sighs from your chest. “I think I just wanted to hear you say it.” You swallowed your own spit, raising your little plastic cup to the air. “Cheers.”

And then it was sliding down your throat, calm and cool and oh-so-fucking terrible tasting. It was like they tried to flavor it with cherry to make it easier but artificial cherry tasted like shit. You remembered when you were seven and your mom bought a bag of cherries from the grocery store to try. You remembered her laugh at your face as you realized the medicine you grew up on was a huge lie to the reality of the sweet fruit.

You didn’t know why you were remembering her now.

You wondered if she still thought of you. If you died, would she ever know?

“It’ll take a few minutes to sink in.” Seokjin murmured, his hands gently pushing you back onto the table. “So relax.”

“Okay.” You whispered more to yourself than to him, shaking off the bitter taste in the back of your throat. “Okay.”

It was silent for a moment. That one quick moment of peace. It was refreshing; it was the calm before a shitstorm large enough to tear you in two.

In the span of a few seconds, the table you were on was suddenly knocked over, sending you careening to the floor in a pile of limbs and confusion. In your out-of-body experience, you could hear Seokjin shouting something that you couldn’t make out. You had to squint to even see him past the sudden, blaring reality that you were on the ground.

Apparently, his shouting was directing you to “for the love of god move!” considering he was landing a punch on a freshly teleported Freckles.

It was horrible and gut-wrenching to know that the reason your head was fuzzy was the due to the anesthetic you could still feel coating your throat and that you had about five minutes before you would be gone to the world.

In the chaos and the crushing realization that you would be of zero help, you found that you couldn’t even make a noise.

“J-Jin!” Your voice was soft to your own disoriented ears as you struggled to your feet. “Jin!” It, unfortunately, wasn’t getting any louder with your increased effort.

“Get out of here, Y/N!”

You frowned, brow furrowed as you took one step, then two lurching ones towards the door—you had to get help. You had to do something for Seokjin, somehow—you had to get someone better than the ticking time bomb that was you.

However, your efforts were thwarted almost instantly by the arm that looped around your waist, yanking you back into the enemy vampire’s chest.

“Oh no you don’t.” Theulgiestvampireever hissed.

You thrashed as much as you could, but your body felt five times heavier than it should have and your attempts amounted to absolutely nothing.

With a forceful kick, Freckles knocked Seokjin backwards and to the ground, blood dripping down both of their foreheads. Seokjin looked up at you through the leaking injury running past his eye, his hand enclosing around your ankle in one last, desperate effort to save you.

“Y/N!”

You couldn’t see Freckles’ evil grin, or the look on his face or the way his leg lifted to deliver a final crushing blow. But you did hear his chuckle next to your ear; you did hear the snap of bone as his heel crashed down onto Seokjin’s hand. You didn’t miss the way Seokjin’s head snapped back dangerously when met by the force of Freckle’s knee.

You screamed even though no sound came out.

I’m sorry Namjoon. You thought before reality shifted around you, breaking you into that nauseating place between worlds. The moment, thankfully, only lasted a few long seconds before you were launched into a heap outside of the fencing of Namjoon’s compound.

You gasped for breath, trying to help yourself to your feet to no avail. Your body was now too heavy for you to move it of your own accord and, when you tilted your head to the night sky, you realized that you couldn’t even feel the asphalt digging into the skin of your palms.

The world blurred around you, despite every effort to keep it in focus.

“Now who’s pathetic?” You hated the sound of his voice, hated that it haunted your nightmares and made you fear for Namjoon’s life. He bent down to your form to pick you up as if you were empty, as if you were nothing more than a slightly weighted bag to sling over his shoulder.

“You ready to meet a god, Y/N?” Jisung chuckled.

You grasped for anything to keep you tethered to your surroundings, fists weakly hitting his back. But, it was useless. It was all so useless. Before you could stop it, you were tumbling into unconsciousness.

~.~

When you finally came to, you had a pounding headache and found that were suddenly unable to move at all.

Well, for one, it was hard to move when your body was still stiff from however long you were out cold. Secondly, it really didn’t help that your arms were twisted behind you and bound by zip ties so tight you felt them cutting off circulation. Your legs didn’t fare any better, considering they were each bound to the front legs of the hard, metal chair you found yourself on.

With a groan to the ceiling, you tilted your head to scan your surroundings and get a better grasp of the reality of the situation you were in. If it weren’t for the fact that your brain wasn’t fully awake, you probably would have split in half from the force of your fear.

The room you were in was dilapidated and fading, however, you came to the conclusion that it was once used for education. Desks were piled in a corner, a broken chalkboard littering the floor to your left with bits of crushed chalk and dust. However, the second you fully awoke, you found that you couldn’t get a good look at much else because your attention was immediately drawn to the table set up next to you. Sitting atop of it was a laptop screen, plugged in via extension cord and a surprisingly quiet generator. Jisung sat smugly next to the laptop, lips twisted in a grin that would put nightmare shadows to shame.

But you were too glued to the sight of Namjoon’s face in the video feed provided by the laptop to care about much else.

He was sitting upright in his bedroom. He must be at the vanity. You thought, stupidly.

He, for obvious reasons, was not as happy to see your face as you were to see his.

“Ah! See that Joonie? Looks like she’s coming to.” Jisung chuckled, hopping off of the desk to take slow, predatory strides towards you. You briefly wondered just how long he had been sitting there, watching you and babbling nonsense to Namjoon.

You were still too groggy to feel too much fear at the action. Rather, you met Namjoon’s gaze through the screen and grimaced.

“Shit.” Was the first, creative, intelligent, and breathtaking thing to come out of your mouth.

“Shit indeed.” Jisung laughed, like a fucking clown from a horror movie you once watched with your best friend back behind the walls of the human world. Before you could react, Jisung’s hand was in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat to the coolness of the room.

“Let go of her.” Namjoon growled; the sound was low and scary even to your half-conscious brain. You could see the muscles in his arm flex, his lip curled in a snarl. It would have been attractive were you not in a predicament that had you wanting to shit your pants.

Jisung inhaled, and, even from your awkward angle, you could see the way his eyes glinted with a fresh feed. “Her fear is so fucking good.”

You quickly gathered that this was all just a pissing contest, a power move to bring Namjoon down. All you would ever be was a pawn, a toy to lure him out. Granted, you, on your own weren’t worth much, but it still sickened you to know that it was about all you would be good for. Vampire or human, it didn’t matter. They just wanted you to kill him—and by gods if you were just going to let it happen.

“Let’s play that game we talked about while she was sleeping, okay Joonie?” The nickname sounded absolutely disgusting coming from Jisung’s mouth. If you could, you would have slapped him yourself (and probably instantly regretted it, but you were always more of a do now think later kind of girl).

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“What game?” You whispered, your breath hitching as Jisung let go of you far too violently for your own taste, travelling somewhere just behind you. You hated how his eyes glowed from your fear once more, your body shivering at the sudden awareness of the temperature of the room around you. “Namjoon—what game?” You looked to him for guidance, but his eyes were cold and rimmed with dark circles. How long was he sitting there, watching you sleep through a screen? “Why are you making him watch this?” You whispered.

Jisung, however, did not have the care for his volume as you did for yours. “Because, dear Y/N, there is no point in torture if it doesn’t rile him up. Pictures would have sufficed but, I am a reaction man. I gotta see his face as it happens, live.” By the time he was finished, the last word were hissed into the shell of your ear. Brought with the enemy vampire, was a blade so big it could have covered your whole face. Jisung twisted it, his gaze never leaving Namjoon’s.

123 notes · View notes

megumis-lashes · 4 years

Text

Love Bites

Vampire! Han Jisung x Reader Part 1

**Contains**: mentions of blood/blood drinking, parental abuse, bullying, fighting, slight swearing, emotional abuse, friends to lovers, werewolf Hyunjin, western high school standards, female reader

Flashback =

> Hello

Narrators POV

In today’s society, supernatural beings like vampires and werewolves are believed to be mythical creatures. Few people believe in their existence and have many false stereotypes surround these creatures’ existence. In reality they do exist. Supernaturals or whatever you like to call them, live a life hidden from society. They play the role of innocent humans is a world where they aren’t accepted.

Name’s POV

After a long, stressful week of school I was finally home to relax, or at least that’s what I wish I was doing right now. Throughout my whole life, I always had an immense amount of pressure put on me by my parents. They wanted a perfect daughter. Not perfect in the sense of a loving child, oh no they had their own definition for the word. To be a perfect child by their standards was practically impossible. I would need to have prefect grades, perfect manners, a perfect record, but despite having all those things I was still a disappointment. I wasn’t ever allowed to have friends, they would simply distract me from school. Defying this logic I was required to participate in at least one sport for college credit. I chose volleyball on a whim. I was practically exhausted every day. I had school each day, followed by practice and then hours of homework. Despite the amount of stress I am constantly facing, my parents only ever cared about results, positive results that is.

You see I’m currently in a very dangerous situation. This week I had been so overwhelmed by homework that I fell asleep before I finished studying for an exam. It was understandable. I hadn’t gotten proper sleep in days and staying up till 3am every night doing homework was clearly taking a toll on my health. My parents could care less though. I had scored a 73 on the exam which was just barely passing in my school’s standards. My parents were furious, and I was scared of their reaction to say the least. I had an idea of what was coming.

I got kicked out?

“No fucking way.” I breathed out as I stood with my hands full in front of my house. This is probably the last thing I would’ve expected but they sure did it. Typically their punishments weren’t this bad. They would just yell at me for a while, threaten to take things from me, maybe hit me if they were really mad, and then tell me how much of a disappoint I was. This wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to so I barely had a reaction to it anymore. This lack of reaction seemed to trigger something new in them. If I wasn’t affected by their typical punishments they would have to step up. So they kicked their barely 17 year old daughter out of their house on a bone-chilling Friday in October.

It was nearing 6:00 PM and I had no idea what to do. They had given me barely five minutes to grab whatever items I would need to survive for however long I would be homeless. I had managed to scrap together the bare necessities. I was still dressed in my school uniform but luckily brought a change of clothes. The first thing I did was change. I couldn’t be a bad representation of my school could I? I didn’t have much. I had just enough time to stuff my school bag with clothes, my wallet, laptop, phone, chargers and snacks but I was still frozen to the bone.

My first thought was to check into a small hotel, but I quickly dismissed the idea when I saw the price. I walked around the city area, contemplating who I could ask to stay with but oh, I don’t have any friends. After wandering around for a while I had subconsciously returned home. Maybe they would let me in? Nope. All the doors and windows were locked and a small note was taped to the door.

‘Left on vacation. Be back soon. Name, if you break in we’ll disown you.’ I sighed. Of course they left. I’m even more desperate for somewhere to stay now.

As time passed and I continued to walk around, the night grew darker and darker. I had walked in what seemed like circles for hours and I was even more exhausted than usual. As I was walking in the city, I heard soft growls behind me. Now that I thought about it there were barely any people here. As I glanced back behind me, my blood ran cold. What is that thing?

From the shadows I could barely make out what I assumed to be its face. Despite this a few startling details stood out to me the most. It had beady red eyes that seemingly glowed under the moonlight. It looked to be an animal, having a pure black fur coat that seemingly stood up on edge. The last thing I saw were its insanely sharp teeth that dripped with saliva as it growled. Despite this sudden shock, it didn’t take long for me to realize I was in danger and book it in the opposite direction. I heard louder growls behind me and I could almost feel its hot breath on my legs. It was right at my heels biting at my ankles in hopes to slow me down. With my low energy I knew I wouldn’t last long at this speed. I had to do something to help me escape. Out of pure adrenaline rush, I made a quick turn and with a sharp motion I slammed my bag across its face. As it whimpered in pain I quickly tore open my pack and grabbed out the heaviest school book I had and threw it as hard as I possibly could at its face. This seemed to shock the animal at it rolled over on the ground in pain. I took this as an opportunity to escape and bolted away as fast as I could.

I had been running for what seemed like forever and finally, my body gave out. Once I figured I was far enough away from it I stopped pushing myself and collapsed on my knees in a fit of coughs and strangled breathing. I escaped at least. My only price to pay was the harsh burning sensation that was bubbling up in my lungs and some slight scratches. I was alive at least. The only downside to my escape is that I had No. Idea. Where. I. Was. As I ran, my surroundings seemed to have blended together. The city streets were long forgotten and I was surrounded by lush forest. A forest I had never seen in my life.

Despite my current distress, I knew I still had to find somewhere to sleep. It was pitch black out now. I assumed it was nearing midnight but I wasn’t sure as my phone had died a couple hours before. I was as lost as lost could be and instead of wandering around aimlessly for the rest of the night, I figured I’d just sleep near a sheltered tree. I sure as hell needed plenty of sleep. I laid there on the cold, wet ground for what I could only assume was a couple hours. I was still terrified. I was extremely shaken by my experience from earlier. I was also freezing. The little warmth my clothes had given me was quickly lost due to the freezing water that had seeped into them upon contact with the ground. At some point I must’ve passed out as that is the remainder of the memories I have from that night.

“Hello? Hello? Excuse me miss are you alright? Are you alive? Wow Jisung that’s a smart questions to ask.” I heard distant talking from what seemed to be above me.

I rubbed my eyes in confusion, slowly blinking them open. As my vision cleared I saw a boy. The boy had slightly grown out dirty blonde hair, golden eyes, a relatively short stature and was dressed in sweats. The most shocking detail of all was how familiar he looked, almost too familiar.

The boy blinked in surprise. “Oh! I see you’ve awoken... finally.” He slightly mumbled. “Sorry to wake you its just I don’t see people casually sleeping in the forest everyday you know.” He shuffled and rubbed his neck as he spoke.

I clambered around and began to sit upright as I continued to stare at him. I definitely knew him from somewhere. He seemed to somewhat recognize me as well.

“Ah that sweater! You must be from Maple High as well then, that’s why you seem so familiar!” He explained “Wait what’s your name... ah wait don’t tell me I know it...... is it Name by any chance?” He questioned. Now I knew exactly who he was.

“You’re correct. And you’re Han Jisung right? We’ve been in chemistry, music, and language arts classes together for the past two years. Now I’m embarrassed I didn’t recognize you sooner.” I mumbled out of embarrassment.

“No no its fine! Plus it took me a while to remember your name.” He chided as he rubbed his neck once again. “Do you mind letting me know why you’re stranded out here in the forest? If you’re camping or something then that’s understandable but this area is known for being very unsafe, plus you look dangerously unprepared.” He questioned.

“Ah about that... you see I got lost last night. I was in the city and some animal chased me and I wound up here somehow.” I awkwardly chuckled. I mean I wasn’t being completely honest but only certain people would fully understand my situation.

“You wouldn’t happen to know the way out of this hell hole would you?” I pleaded.

“Now I see what happened!” He chuckled as he seemingly put the pieces together. “I can show you the way out! This forest is practically my second home haha.” he laughed

Jisung had helped me grabbed my things and started to lead me out of the forest.

“Hey Jisung?”

“Yeah?”

“How come you know this forest so well? And how did you even find me? I mean its a pretty random location?” I questioned.

“Oh, I come here to hunt.” He blurted out.

“Hunt? Like animals? Isn’t that like really outdated?” I questioned.

“Oh..uh..yeah I hunt like deer...and stuff. I guess my family is just kinda outdated. Hunting is a... hobby of mine I guess....” He trailed off. I found his answer rather odd... I mean he seemed nervous? No unsure? Whatever it was probably nothing.

As he led me out of the forest I managed to slip up and mention that I had to figure out a place to stay. Out of what I could only assume was a mixture of kindness and pity, he offered to let me stay at his house. At first I immediately declined. It was such a huge offer to just give to someone you barely know. Plus I would feel guilty as I had little to offer him in thanks. Eventually he persuaded me to stay with him. My payment could be in the form of chores as he was home alone, his parents away on business. He lent me clothes and let me stay in one of his many guest rooms. I took a shower and once again took a nap.

25 notes · View notes

testedtommyau · 3 years

Text

Tested Tommy Chapter 5: Act 1, scene 2 (part 1)

Warnings: Flashbacks, PTSD, panics, child ab/se in memories

Eyes lit up as the noise of keys in a lock was nearby, it was time for food. Tiny paw-like feet pattered to the bars of the cell, eager eyes waiting for the kind giant to give him something to consume. The large figure walked inside and placed the bowls on the ground, the little creature crawled forward, sniffing at the bowls.

“Gotta eat up, Tommy.”

Tommy.

They always referred to him as that, is it a sound to notify they were communicating with him? It didn’t matter at the time. He took the food from the bowl and sat down, eating with his hands. The cell door closed with the figure leaving, they never stayed with him for the food, it was rather lonely. He would like for someone to stay with him. Maybe one day.

The food as always was… bad. He didn’t want to be ungrateful, but it was BAD. The taste was like licking the floor. But he had to eat, or he got extreme pains in his tummy. The water was fine though, nice and cold and washed away the dreadful taste. ‘Tommy’ went back to the corner of the cell, tail curling up towards him to use as a pillow. He wanted someone there with him, it was very cold and lonely. Tommy closed his eyes and drifted back to what felt like eternal waiting.

“Here it is.”

Oh! More giants, does this mean more food? Or maybe one will stay. Tommy got up on his little feet and hurried over, spots lighting up to see the figures entering his cell. The tall figures were all in white, tilting his head he walked closer and curiously sniffed.

BLEH!

Tommy recoiled from the strong smell of whatever was on their outer layer of covering, it felt like something badly burned the inside of his nose.

“It has been with us for six years now.”

“Do you think it's strong enough to start?”

“Only one way to find out.”

One of the figures reached down and took Tommy’s hand, his big glowing eyes stared up at the giant and followed when it stood up and started walking. It was taking him out of the cell! Tommy’s tail swayed as he happily followed the giants that were kind enough to let him out, are they going to take him to a new home?

The area was huge, everything was so big and bright now. There were more giants exiting and going into movable holes in the walls. The one holding his hand took him further down the halls, down to a darker area with a few scattered lights. Tommy gazed up at the giants and was taken inside a room, he looked up at the room sign. 874.

Pointing up to the sign he made a little tune. The scientists stared in awe at the bubbles floating out his mouth, a couple of them popping against the sign.

“That’s number 874.” One of them answered. Tommy did not understand though, maybe later he’ll remember how that sounded and he’ll know in the future.

The room was scary, the giants there were more covered up then the ones that took him here. Their faces covered and like a blank screen. Tommy whimpered and hid behind one of the giant’s legs, hoping it’ll protect him. Instead they picked him up and walked closer to the figures. The little creature squirmed and tried to get away, only to be put onto a table and held there. He sang out more bubbles, the colours fading from greys to black. He wanted to go back, this place was scary, he didn’t want to be here.

“Okay, okay, listen we need to have a pow-wow.”

Tommy shook from his sleep as Gordon announced himself to be in need of conversation with everyone. Bubby and Coomer were already sitting up and alert, only with Bubby’s rather grumpy expression directed towards Gordon. He obviously did not want to be woken up just yet. Under Tommy’s arm was Benrey, still snoozing peacefully. Though he didn’t want to wake up the adorable sight he reluctantly shook Benrey awake.

“Wha…?”

“T-Time to w-wake up.”

Benrey groaned and moved up with a huff, helmet tilting over their face before Tommy moved it so it sat correctly on their head. They shared a smile before Gordon went on again about needing some ‘pow-wow’ with the group.

“Everybody sit around, gather around…”

“Mr F-Freeman d-d-don’t herd me like a… like a sheep in a f-f-farm.” Tommy snapped as he plonked himself down into the circle they had created. Gordon gulped quietly and nodded.

“Right, right.”

“I’d like to have a good ol’ yeehaw with you.”

They all looked over at Bubby for a moment.

“What the fuck does that even mean-Where’s the guard?” Gordon asked, Tommy worriedly looked at the spot beside him where Benrey once was which was now empty. The clanging on the other side however alerted them to Benrey’s whereabouts as they jumped up and sat on a barrel, looking rather proud of themselves.

“Do you have to sit on something…?”

Gordon’s voice trailed off as he self-admitted there was no point to questioning the ‘guard’s’ actions. He turned his attention back to the other three.

“We got to get you some more bullets. Oh, Tommy have you- have you ever fought or like, killed anything?”

Tommy stared at him silently for a moment. Gordon couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at his gaze. The stillness let him take in some extra depth of Tommy’s features, the scars on his face, a near invisible red line around his neck, the way his brows got closer together as he stared.

“Yes.” Was all he replied.

Tommy had to admit it was quite amusing to see the nervous shock in Gordon’s eyes.

“Um, you good at it…?”

Strange question, Tommy shrugged before he noticed a pigeon walking around on the floor.

“I c-c-can show y-you on that pigeon.”

Gordon’s nervous expression was replaced with one of confusion as he looked to see the pigeon that was indeed there.

“How did a pigeon get in here?” He asked Dr. Coomer and Bubby, but neither could provide an answer.

“So, y-you want me to kill i-it?” Tommy offered again. Gordon shook his head but before he could tell Tommy no he had already punched it so hard it broke its neck and it dropped dead on the ground. Gordon stared silently for a moment then back at Tommy.

“Okay uh, what about a gun? Should I give you a gun? Be easier then punching if we come across more of those… things.”

Tommy thought for a moment, it was a more tactical weapon for distanced kills without risking someone noticing his use of powers. As he was about to answer, Benrey started to sing sweet voice again, the balls of teal surrounding the pigeon in front of them.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“They’re hungry.” Tommy answered for them as Benrey kept singing. “T-teal mean, mean n-needs meal.”

“Okay uh, anyway Tommy I dunno if you can use a gun or not. You seem to not be processing what I say to you.”

Tommy felt heat boil up inside him again, he can understand perfectly! It’s this- this mere human ball of arrogant flesh that can’t comprehend that he is perfectly capable of such things. A loud siren-like tune interrupted Tommy’s mini internal rage as Benrey promptly shot the pigeon, blood splattering all over the ground.

“Was that a threat to us? In any way?”

Benrey ignored Gordon’s question and moved over to join the circle.

“Barney?”

What? That’s not their name.

“Wha?”

“T-that’s not their name.”

Tommy’s glare could be felt on Gordon’s neck, he was about to correct himself but another pigeon became victim to Benrey’s gunfire as blood splattered onto both of them.

“The fuck man!?”

Gordon stood up and brushed the blood off vest he could and let out an annoyed sigh. Turning on his heel he stormed off alone down the hall. Benrey visibly tucked their head into their collar nervously.

“Did I- did I fuck up bro?”

They looked over at Tommy who scooted closer and took Benrey’s hand into his, reassuring them that they didn’t do anything wrong.

“Guess we got to go follow the bitching babyman before he does something stupid.” Bubby grumbled, he got up and followed the direction Gordon went, Benrey, Tommy and Dr Coomer got up and joined to follow.

Benrey’s hand wrapped around Tommy’s, giving it a comforting squeeze. Their touch helped ground him as they walked. This place made him nervous, the walls of the facility too high and narrow, like a tunnel.

“All good bro?” Benrey asked, their eyes stared up at Tommy, a hint of worry in them. But as always their adoration shone through just from looking at Tommy. It made his heart swell to see how much the smaller alien cared for him.

“Yes, e-e-everything is o-okay.” He promised, he felt the other press against him and purr softly. Soft warmth radiating off them both as their arms looped together.

“Uh, nothin’ gonna hurt us, yeah?”

Benrey’s eyes were hopeful, little sparkles in the bright yellow of their undamaged eye filled with aspiration to start a new life. Tommy would ensure they get it; they deserve it more than anything. There was a soft touch of Benrey’s clawed hand against his cheek, their gentle thumb tracing along the line of freckles on his face. Eyes fluttered close as the two stood together, the world became still in each other’s company. Tommy’s hand met Benrey’s as he held it against his face, his breathing shook as the tenderness was becoming overwhelming from how badly he needed it. Benrey always knew how to help him.

Benrey was everything to him.

“Where the fuck are you even going?”

Tommy and Benrey looked over to where Bubby was nagging Gordon about which direction they should go. It was a fucking tunnel, no other places to go. Benrey piped up and told the group to go ‘this way’ which was just forward, but someone had to give some sense of direction, right?

They found the end of the tunnel led to a ledge connected to the next route; Benrey peaked at the metal bridge which led to yet another high drop below.

“Don’t look good bro, got uh, lil connecters ain’t lookin’ so strong. Probably weak as shit.” They muttered, moving back to press against Tommy.

It also didn’t help that a portal opened, and an alien popped up out of nowhere and fell onto the ledge, breaking it as it tumbled to its death and destroying their initial path. Well, at least Benrey was right on that it wasn’t very stable. Tommy quickly pulled Benrey out of the line of fire of whatever the fuck the alien spewed out while Gordon frantically checked if everyone was okay.

“Yep just… um.” Benrey wasn’t too sure what to do now, the ledge was gone, and the humans can’t just float to the other side. Maybe there was something below?

“This way. Let’s go.”

Gordon paused and looked at Tommy, who just gave him a small shrug and followed Benrey.

Benrey and Bubby took a peak down the ledge. Minus the walkway below, the pit looked bottomless. Definite instant death if one was to fall in.

“Oh no, no, no, no.”

Bubby backed away in fright from the mere sight of the drop, Benrey instead staring down with a look of awe.

Gordon’s eyes widened when he saw the two near the ledge and panicked.

“No! No! Benrey that’s so far down, please get back!” The fear in Gordon’s voice was noticeable, he was properly scared for Benrey being hurt as Bubby had already started to step away. Tommy knew a fall like that wouldn’t do much damage as they could float, but the worry in Gordon’s voice was a bit endearing. He had already risked himself to remove the headcrab and now Gordon was worrying over another stranger’s safety. Humans were strange.

“Right here to the test chamber!” With that, Benrey hops off and falls.

Gordon ran to the ledge to look down with a gasp, Tommy watched him and listened to his panicked breathing as if he expected a dead body to be splattered on the ground below. Knowing Benrey would be fine, Tommy climbed up the pipes and walked along them, he looked down to see Benrey had got up and left in the direction of the next door.

“Are you okay!?” Gordon called out.

“Right this way.”

And Benrey was off on their way again. Gordon only stared in stunned silence. At least they were okay. But now how the fuck were they going to re-group?

“Gordon are you coming or not?”

Startled, Gordon looked up to the ledge where Bubby was.

“How the fuck did you make that jump?”

Tommy continued walking across the pipes to get across, he felt Gordon’s eyes rest onto him as he kept going.

“Oh, Tommy’s got the right idea!”

Tommy pretended to not hear that, but he did feel a little fuzzy at the sort of compliment. Now to get back to Benrey, wherever the fuck they have ran off to.

“Hello Gordon!”

“Hello… Dr Coomer…! Oh my god…”

While listening to Gordon’s voice tiring out of re-greeting Dr Coomer, Tommy kept his eye on Benrey now that they’ve found them. His hand was wrapped around Benrey’s as he didn’t want them running off again. The room was strange to say the least, most peculiar was the boxes suspended in the air, what was the purpose of that? Tommy and Benrey looked at the ledge below them and it was an even BIGGER drop.

“D-Do we have to do this?” They could both hear the fear in Gordon’s voice.

Benrey didn’t bother answering and slipped from Tommy’s grip to jump onto one of the hanging boxes. Not wanting to leave Benrey to disappear again, Tommy quickly jumped onto a box. He tried not to look down, it was a pretty big drop.

A loud scream was heard behind him and Tommy spun around too fast, thinking Gordon was falling to his death. No, the human had landed on a ledge. But his focus was broken and the swinging of the boxes threw him off balance.

“Tommy!” Benrey called out as Tommy slipped and failed to grab the ledge.

“TOMMY!” Gordon almost foolishly ran off the ledge in an attempt to grab him, Tommy let out a scream as he fell into the darkness, out of sight.

Hurt.

Everything hurt.

Tommy was curled up in the corner, hugging his tail and shaking from the unbearable new feeling coursing through his body. He looked down at the fabric around his arm, it was tinted red with liquid that was spilled from his arm. Why did they do that? It hurt so much.

The doors open at the usual feeding time, he should go show the nice giant what happened. Maybe it would try and fix the pain. Tommy got up and hurried towards the giant, little squeaks coming from his mouth as he tried to call them over, showing the bandage on his arm.

The attempts were in vain however. The giant ignored Tommy and simply shoved the bowls into his cell, soon exiting and Tommy was once again alone. And in pain. With a whimper tears started to trickle down Tommy’s cheeks, the sting of rejection stronger than before. What was wrong with him? What did he do to make the giants hurt him?

He couldn’t bring himself to eat, he wasn’t hungry at the moment. Pushing his food away, Tommy went back to his corner, curling up and closed his eyes. Hoping this nightmare will end soon.

Tommy snapped his eyes open and stopped just before slamming into the ground, his body glowed as he levitated himself to his feet. Luckily, he was too far down to be seen by anyone, though they probably thought he was dead now. Minus Benrey of course. But now that he was alone without humans watching him. He could phase through the wall and get back up to the ledges, hopefully without being seen.

The sound of the group’s voices helped guide him back. He managed to phase out of the wall behind a crate and climb over it with his thin frame.

“Tommy!” Benrey rushed over and hugged him tightly. Tommy quickly returned the hug, holding Benrey close to his body. His eyes trailed over to Gordon as he caught his breath, the adrenaline seeming to subside from his system and a tired smile grew on his face when he saw Tommy was okay.

“Tommy? How did you make it back up?”

Shit, he had to come up with a reason that wasn’t ‘I went into the wall and came up through the wall.’

“It’s, like a big slide! I just uh… I-I l-looped around and c-came back up.”

That was totally believable, right?

“Um… sure, sure.”

That didn’t sound like he was convinced, but it’ll have to do.

Benrey’s ears twitched under the helmet, the elevator noises were rather annoying. They fiddled nervously with their vest as the others waited. Bubby looked over to Benrey and gave them a pat on the back, they looked over and gave him a smile but it soon faltered back to a frown.

Bubby turned over to Tommy and grabbed his sleeve, Tommy flinched back with a glare but noticed Benrey gripping at their sleeve. Their eyes wide and darting around the elevator. Dr Coomer and Bubby walked around to Gordon, his back turned to Benrey and Tommy luckily as Tommy held them close, feeling their body shivering.

“H-Hey, what’s w-w-wrong.” Tommy whispered into Benrey’s ear, the smaller alien buried their face into his chest, skin turning a deeper shade of blue as they sniffled.

“What’s going on?” Gordon asked, before he could turn around Bubby pulled out his gun, pointing it at Gordon. Tommy’s eyes darted to the sight, watching Bubby try to distract Gordon while he attempted to quickly soothe Benrey. Gordon may know Benrey isn’t human, but he’s seen the cruelty that comes out of humans when they face Benrey’s body morphs, the last thing they need is someone making them feel worse for being upset. Tommy could feel their skin stretch as more eyes popped up, he looed down and saw two sets of faces warp out as they shook in his hold.

“Shh shh, y-y-you’re okay, i-it’s okay…”

“Can you, not point your gun at me?” Gordon asked, it was at least keeping him occupied.

Benrey’s claws grew as they clung to Tommy, his own hands soothingly stroked Benrey’s back.

“W-w-we’ll be out soon… I p-promise…”

“Don’t… don’t like the… the, the moving boxes… Never w-went to good places.” Benrey muttered under their breath, Tommy’s hold around Benrey tightened, his eyes flashed for a second of gold.

“N-No, we’re not, no going there…” He reassured, Benrey started to calm down.

“Could you not point that at me!?” Gordon repeated, Bubby kept a stern blank face at the man.

“I’m not pointing it at you, I’m just, indicating that I have a gun.”

Bubby looked over to Benrey and Tommy, the morphing seemed to be nearing its end.

“and you should continue looking at me.”

“This seems like a weird threat…”

Tommy focused back onto Benrey, he moved the helmet up and ran his fingers through Benrey’s hair. It was a quick soothing spot for them, closing their eyes they started to purr. Their skin returned to a pale blue and the warping stopped. Tears were still running down their face but that was okay, Tommy softly kissed them away.

“Want off…”

“I-I know, we’ll, we’ll be off here s-s-soon. Sooner then uh, then a slice of cheese m-melting in a fire.”

Benrey chuckled at Tommy’s words, they sniffed and wiped their tears as the elevator dinged when they reached the wanted floor. At least that was finally over.

“Another soda spiller!”

“What the fuck did you just call it?” Gordon asked, Benrey looked at him and repeated ‘soda spiller’. Before he could question that any further, he could see a ‘rope’ hanging from a gap in the ceiling. He peaked above and shot the barnacle, its guts spilling onto the floor.

“Alright time for more soda!”

Gordon smashed the vending machine and the drinks spilled out of it, the gang hurrying past him to engulf in the drinks, making ungodly slurping sounds once again. Benrey noticed a little bug crawling on the machine and picked it up, they inspected it for a minute then tossed it into their mouth with a loud crunch.

“Ew no don’t eat the spiders!” Gordon yelled, Benrey ignored him and kept crunching it much to Gordon’s disgust. Tommy picked up a few extra cans and walked over to Benrey, the two sat down on a table and drank at their soda. The cafeteria was… interesting, one of the few rooms that he doesn’t remember entirely despising. It had a few nice smells to go with it but now it was mixed with destruction and alien guts, though it wasn’t like the original was something to praise at. Benrey pulled out a packet of crisps that they snagged from the broken machine, munching on it and leaning against Tommy’s arm. He felt Benrey’s hand wrap around his own, it felt nice as always. Fingers intertwined as Tommy rested his head on top of Benrey’s helmet, closing his eyes.

“Tommy?”

Tommy looked over to the cell bars, recognising that this sound is directed towards him. Though he does not want to go towards them. Last time he did it ended in pain; he didn’t want to feel that again.

“C’mon boy, over here.”

The giant knelt down and held its hand out, offering its touch. Tommy eyed the hand suspiciously, what if it takes him to another place of pain? But in the giant’s hand was something, new? Tommy curiously walked over and sniffed at the object; it was wonderful. It smelt like something he could give a try. Nothing like the garbage he was eating before. He snatched up the object and bit it, it crumbled in his mouth and provided a jolt of pleasant taste in his mouth.

“You like the cookie, Tommy?”

Cookie. Is that what this thing was? Tommy looked up at the giant, crumbs on his mouth.

“Cookie?” the giant repeated. Tommy stared up at it and kept biting at the… ‘cookie’.

The giant held out its hand again and now Tommy took its hand, being led out of the room and given another cookie.

Tommy cried in the corner; he was fooled again. The pain surged through his leg as he shivered. What did he do so wrong to make them so angry to hurt him?

Tommy shivered as fresh tears fell from his cheeks.

Please make it stop.

Please make them stop.

Please take the pain away.

Please.

“Please stop running into those!!”

Tommy jolted from his thoughts; Bubby fell to the ground coughing horribly as Gordon shot at a barnacle which had attempted to eat him. He watched Gordon rush to Bubby’s side and attempt to clean off the gunk off the grumpy old man’s clothes. Tommy chuckled quietly as he watched Gordon chase after Bubby.

“Look Gordon! A rope!”

Benrey tapped Tommy’s arm and pointed up as Dr Coomer was swooped up by a ‘rope’.

“HELP ME GORDON!”

“STOP RUNNING INTO-THEY’RE NOT ROPES!!” Gordon cried out, his gun made quick work of the alien and Dr Coomer dropped down as if nothing had happened.

“Look, Gordon, a rope!” he repeated.

“You guys are fucking scientists!! Use your reasoning!?”

Tommy could hear the frustration growing in his tone. His heart sped up as he watched the human’s face grow red with anger, like he’s close to snapping. Tommy squeezed Benrey’s hand, he could handle it easy. But seeing a scientist get mad never ended well.

Benrey noticed Tommy’s discomfort and stood up, gently tugging him away while Gordon continued his snapping match.

Benrey and Tommy found a hallway to themselves, though it probably wouldn’t be long before the others caught up again but, in the moment, they could be alone quietly. Another flock of birds cooed in their presence, flapping their wings and moving out of their way.

“A-a-are you okay? Y-you were rather upset earlier.” Tommy asked, his hand still in Benrey’s.

“Yeah bro I’m uh, all good now, just dumb head sights ya know?”

Tommy could see Benrey was still bothered by it, he wished he could make it all better. That now they were finally out the pain will instantly leave. But it seemed that was not how the world worked unfortunately. The pair were still suffering, Benrey was still dealing with random episodes that freak them out. It wasn’t fair.

Tommy looked at Benrey’s eyes, at least one thing he knew would always be okay is how Benrey made him feel, he pulled them closer and gave Benrey a soft kiss on the lips. Benrey smiled against him and stared into his eyes when they pulled away. Tommy took Benrey’s face into his hands, thumbs stroking across their cheeks. He needed to ensure they were there with him, that they knew he was there for them. Benrey closed their eyes as Tommy traced a line over one of Benrey’s scars on their lips, he placed a gentle kiss upon it.

“God there’s so many birds!”

Tommy and Benrey jumped away from each other in surprise as Gordon climbed down to the room they were in; the moment was nice while it lasted.

“Did we have like uh, like a bank of birds in black mesa?” Gordon asked, looking towards Tommy and Benrey. Bubby muttered ‘what the hell?’ while the other two shrugged.

“Are these like, test animals?”

It was a perfectly fine question to ask, he’s probably right as well. But Tommy felt his heart stop for a moment at the mention of tests despite them not being directed towards him.

“W-w-where you c-c-conducting experiments? Ma-maybe they got loose.”

Tommy looked down at the birds, Bubby and Benrey making quick work of shooting them dead.

“What? No, I didn’t know about any of this.” Gordon replied, he stood by Tommy watching the bloodbath in front of him.

“Were you in the bird division doing any bird tests?”

“NO!”

The NERVE of that Freeman! Even considering that he would ever do such a thing, death was one thing. But the life of experiments!?

Gordon could see the anger in Tommy’s eyes and backed away.

“Then what are they doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

The gunshots finally got to Gordon as he snapped. “Why are you killing them!? They’re just birds!”

Benrey stopped firing for a moment and looked over to Gordon, Dr Coomer inspected the carnage and spoke up.

“We could cook and eat these for food, Gordon!”

“Right so we’re going to eat them? That’s the only acceptable excuse for this!”

“They shouldn’t be here.” Benrey interrupted and went back to their shooting.

“Didn’ let them in.”

Tommy watched the last bird fall to the ground in blood, Gordon’s face still stunned in horror.

“Right this way.” Benrey said as they moved down the hallway.

Gordon let out a yell of terror, Tommy looked down where Gordon fell, and the turret was firing at him. That was a rather valid reason to be screaming. Benrey grabbed Tommy’s hand and jumped down behind a crate, Gordon already seeking shelter at the next point while it kept firing.

“Tommy it can shoot through the boxes!” Gordon warned. A headcrab pounced at him but he quickly shot it before it landed.

“Wha?” The turret shot through and hit Benrey’s arm, they let out a hiss of pain.

“B-Benrey!”

Tommy picked Benrey up and bolted, Gordon screaming at him to get to cover fast as Tommy slid down to where Gordon was, the torrent finally halting its fires.

“Is he okay!?” Gordon asked, Tommy leaned back against the wall and sat down, holding Benrey’s bleeding arm.

“Is all good bro, will uh, be healed up in-ow fuck, no time!” Benrey reassured, Tommy letting out a sigh of relief. Dr Coomer and Bubby in the meantime managed to disable the turret, leaving it safe when Benrey got up and looked around the corner.

“Has it stopped?” Gordon asked, Tommy walked out to see Dr Coomer and Bubby there unharmed.

“I-It can’t hurt you, if you’re s-s-smart.” Tommy said, smiling.

“T-that’s why we’re a-all scientists.”

Gordon let out a little laugh and walked over to Tommy with a pity smile on his face. Excuse him?

“Buddy, buddy, that’s not how it works.” Gordon got uncomfortably close to Tommy and placed his hand on his cheek. Tommy’s eyes widened as he whacked Gordon away.

“D-Don’t touch m-me!!” He yelled, turning a heel and storming off. Tommy walked a fair way ahead of the group, why did he touch his face!? Did he think he was going to let Gordon that close to possibly harm him? He’s not stupid.

But also…

Tommy reached up and touched the cheek Gordon had his hand on. It… was closer to how Benrey touched them then how other scientists touched him. While it was uncalled for, he was slow and the touch was placed almost carefully. He felt his face heat up and he shook. This wasn’t the time.

His hand rested on his belt and felt the outline of his gun, he pulled it up and cocked it. It felt weird at first, pointing it to how he saw the guards do so with one hand. Finger on the trigger.

Footsteps approached as the rest of the team caught up with him, Gordon’s eyes widening as he noticed the gun in Tommy’s hold.

“Right uh, you ready to test that thing?” He asked. And Tommy pulled the trigger.

“Dude!?”

Gordon stepped away and Tommy’s own eyes were now wide, he didn’t mean to fire it!

“Um, y-yeah.”

Though it did feel rather fun. He pointed it up, away from Gordon and fired again.

“No, no, no! You don’t just shoot it when there’s people around.”

He gestured to Dr Coomer and Bubby who were below the ceiling which Tommy shot at.

“That w-was test.” Tommy replied, the two locking eyes now.

“You don’t need to test a gun, okay?”

“Y-y-you d-don’t need t-to tell me w-what to do!”

Gordon’s frustration grew as he stepped forward, only for another gunshot to be heard and a dent appear in the suit. The two looking towards Bubby who was aiming the gun at Gordon.

“Seriously!?”

“… Sorry my bad.”

“H-How’s the arm?” Tommy asked Benrey, they looked down at the hole in their shirt but the wound itself was near gone, mostly a scar.

“Pretty good bro.”

Tommy smiled and kissed Benrey on the head.

“Oh my god another guard, thank fuck.”

Benrey looked up to see Gordon talking to a guard, dread sank down their stomach but luckily Dr Coomer gave it a good punch in the leg.

Oh, oh shit now he’s shooting at Gordon!

Benrey whipped up their gun and shot the guard in the face, he fell to the ground. Headshot!

“Why would you do that?!” Gordon snapped.

What? Benrey raised a confused eyebrow, they, they saved him? Why was he so upset?

“Assume if we threaten anyone! They’ll assume we are a threat!” He continued yelling. Tommy moved in front of Benrey with a death glare to Gordon, silencing him without a word. He looked at Benrey who was behind Tommy, the look in their eyes hurt and confused with a few blue orbs floating from their mouth.

“I… Just, god please stop killing people…?”

Tommy shook his head. “No.”

Gordon gulped quietly as all four of them stood before him, almost against him. Tommy could see confusion and fear in Gordon’s eyes.

“Don’t hurt him.” Benrey piped up, to Gordon’s surprise. Tommy’s eyes softened as he looked at Benrey. Then back at Gordon.

“L-Lets go.”

Sounds of gurgled grunting caught Tommy’s attention, breaking away from the group he spotted a few more aliens. Nothing he hasn’t fought before. He looked at his gun.

But now…

Tommy took out the gun and lined up his finger with the trigger, the alien spotted him and charged forward only to be repeatedly shot with bullets, Tommy firing at increased speed, covering the alien in bloody holes.

“Tommy going ham!” Gordon cheered, Tommy didn’t stop shooting and felt his body fuel with adrenaline at Gordon’s encouragement. The alien attempted to run but Tommy watched it drop to the ground as its body couldn’t handle anymore bullets.

“Go off Tommy!”

Tommy pointed his fun up and fired at the barnacle, finger still pressing the trigger fast.

“Holy shit you got a trigger finger.”

He went into the room the alien tried to escape into, Bubby following behind. Not much seemed to be in there.

“Tommy you said you’ve never held a gun before!”

Tommy looked over to Gordon, uniform splattered with blood.

“Th-This is all instinct, Me Freeman!” He replied.

“Instinct?”

Tommy nodded.

“I-I, I’ve d-done stuff l-like this a lot b-b-before. Just not with a g-gun.” He explained.

“Oh, uh, okay um… You’re good at it.”

“… Th-Thanks.”

The two stood there in silence for a moment, Tommy’s eyes refusing to meet Gordon’s.

First to break the tension was Tommy walking out the room, Gordon watched and saw the man had once again gone to Benrey. It was probably best to keep moving anyway.

The days went by, too many to count despite the tallies littering Tommy’s cell room.

The cell door opened but Tommy didn’t come to the giants, they were not happy when he refused to come over the other times, the purple and dirty yellow marks on his skin aren’t from the pain rooms. They were from the giants when he did something that made them angry, not coming over made them angry. But why would he come near? They keep taking him to bad places.

“It’s time to go.”

He did not go towards the voice. He didn’t grant a glance over to them, simply stared into the corner of the room.

“Do you want another cookie?”

No. No he does not want to go near that ‘cookie’. Every time he was given a cookie it ended in pain. Every time he went near the giant’s and left the cell only ended in pain. Tommy hugged himself tighter, covering his face as he heard the footsteps get closer. Readying himself for the pain that is soon to come.

“Tommy? Come here, now.” The giant demanded. Still meeting refusal, he could hear the frustration grow.

“I will not tell you again.”

Then don’t.

Get it over with.

“Yo! It’s the soda!” Benrey called out, Tommy shook his head a little and looked onward at the red light of another machine, rushing over with them to the soda giver.

“Oh, hell yeah, you guys want some more soda!?”

Gordon aimed his gun and shot the machines, the soda spilling out once again as the team flocked around with greedy mouths. Gordon chuckled at them all and took care of the aliens around the corner.

Tommy came up behind Gordon.

“M-Mr Freeman?”

Gordon jumped a little and looked towards Tommy. He put a can of soda into Gordon’s hand.

“B-Benrey said y-y-you need to h-have some soda.”

He looked at the can, a Sprite tm can. He was pretty thirsty… Gordon popped open the can and took a refreshing sip, he noticed Tommy still standing there.

“Oh uh, thank you, and Benrey. Um.”

Tommy stayed silent.

“Listen I uh…” He looked to the others who were busy slurping the soda still. “I’m really sorry, again. For upsetting you and Benrey earlier. It’s, it’s all very overwhelming.”

Tommy looked at him, listening.

“And murder is just, it’s just something most humans don’t go wanting or having to see. But I also shouldn’t have touched your face without asking. I also don’t really like people doing that.”

Tommy felt his chest ache as Gordon talked. This human was going to be the death of him somehow, it was just unclear as to how he would do so.

“It’s, it is r-r-rather, stressful. Th-The situation I-I mean.” Tommy admitted, taking a sip of his own soda.

“Yeah…”

“Yo bro, got the lil science boy to drink something? Get that nutrients?” Benrey barged in, they gulped down a soda, swallowing loudly. It made Gordon laugh at least.

“Yeah, I’m drinking the soda, thank you.”

Benrey grinned and let out some yellow sweet voice. “Niiice.”

Gordon smiled wider at the two, Tommy let a small curve slip before ensuring he was back to a stern look. It was good enough to make Gordon appear more relaxed at least.

“Are you mother fuckers going to hurry up or what?!” Bubby yelled, the three looked over to see Dr Coomer and Bubby were already at the next room. How the? They were just drinking the soda only a second ago!

Oh well.

“’M tiiiired.” Benrey announced, promptly dropping onto the cold floor and staying there. Looks like they were resting for a bit then. Tommy sat beside Benrey and pulled them onto his lap, Gordon sat down in front of Tommy while Dr Coomer and Bubby sat together.

Benrey moved their head to rest on Tommy’s chest, yawning with sharp teeth showing. Gordon’s heart skipped a beat at seeing them snuggled up like that, and the soft hold Tommy had around them.

“So, what about your guy’s lives? Got any family Dr Coomer?” Gordon asked.

“Well, I did have a wife, but they took her in the divorce!” He replied, still smiling wide as if he didn’t just say something that’d raise an eyebrow.

“They took your wife in the divorce?”

“Hello, Gordon! Yes.”

“What the, what do you mean TOOK your wife?!”

“Now Gordon I believe it is rude to press on personal matters!”

He did have a point…

“Yeah, shut the fuck up, Gordon.”

Bubby put it a lot less nicely, but Gordon couldn’t help but chuckle at the old man’s bluntness. He turned to Tommy, who was still protectively holding a near asleep Benrey.

“How about you Tommy?”

“Hm?”

“Got any family, like where are you from?”

Tommy sat there in silence for a moment.

“I… I d-don’t know I’m an o-orphan.” He replied. Gordon’s face changed to one of sadness but didn’t say anything. Benrey opened their eyes for a moment to quickly shoot the pigeon walking closer, no one can take Benrey’s cuddle spot.

“B-But I have a dog!”

“Oh really? What’s your dog’s name?”

Tommy stared at Gordon for a moment yet again, his head saying the words but he couldn’t quite get it out…

“S-sunkist.”

There we go.

“You, named your dog after soda?”

“I-It’s a good n-n-name for the p-perfect dog.”

Gordon kept giggling. “You really like soda, don’t you?”

Wasn’t it obvious? Tommy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.”

Tommy looked back down at Benrey; their face squished against his chest. He brushed some hair out of their face and looked back up at Gordon.

“So um, what about Benrey?”

Tommy’s eyes flicked down to the ground; his arms pressed them closer to himself.

“Isn’t v-very n-nice. Th-that’s for B-Benrey to t-t-tell you.” Tommy replied.

“Yeah, that’s probably best. He looks so tired…”

“I-It’s been a l-long day…”

Gordon nodded and rested against the wall, Tommy looking away to rest with Benrey.

The room was quiet, Tommy’s eyes wandered at the group settling down to rest. What was life going to be like when they escaped? He’s waited for this day for so long and it’s so close to his reach.

And he hadn’t a single clue what he was going to do with that freedom. The sound of Benrey’s breathing reminded him of who else was holding out on this hope, and he promised that Benrey would see the day of freedom. He has to, he can’t let Benrey down.

Not like his ‘family’ did, whoever they are. If he even had one. There was no point in bothering about whoever they are, they abandoned Tommy. They do not deserve a place in his thoughts. His eyes gazed on to Gordon, he knew what life is like outside… Maybe if things go well he can assist him and Benrey. Maybe...

4 notes · View notes