Tumgik
#her screech is loud enough to make buildings tumble down
savemeafruitjuice · 4 months
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hi hi!!! if you don’t mind, may i pls request kokushibo chasing douma and tickling him silly after he heard one too many complaints from the others? (bonus if the chase manages to scare the others when they see douma running from kokushibo like his life depends on it🤣)
omg of course myst! gimme a little bit :>
Lee! Douma
Ler! Kokushibou
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"Kokushibou, can you get Douma to stop pestering me? He seriously won't mind his business!"
Kokushibou opened his eyes, being interrupted from meditation. Uppermoon 2's antics were quite common, and the redhead getting annoyed by him wasn't unheard of either. Kokushibou sighed, waving him off.
"Tch.." Akaza put his head down and exited the room. Uppermoon 1 closed his eyes again and returned to meditating.
Some twenty minutes later, a soft knock could be heard on Kokushibou's door. After a brief moment, he called out "Come in." The door cracked open a bit, just enough for two demons to enter. "Ah. Daki and Gyutaro, what brings you here?" Daki rubbed her arm sheepishly, while Gyutaro spoke. "Well, Lord Douma has been harassing my sister and I, calling us rather appalling names and following us around like some sort of lost puppy.. Is there anything you could do about it?"
"I suppose. Thank you for consulting me, and this shall be dealt with." The lower-ranked demons bowed before exiting the room. "Thank you, Lord Kokushibou." The six-eyed demon pinched the bridge of his nose, now having to deal with the rowdy other instead of enjoying the night alone.
Rising to his feet, Kokushibou heard commotion down the halls of the Infinity Castle. A loud crash echoed through the building, followed by a screech. Uppermoon 1 quickly traveled down the hall, concerned for the safety of one of his peers, only to see Lowermoon 5 twisting under the hands of Douma, the little spider cackling as his belly was squeezed.
Kokushibou squinted rather confused. If he had eyebrows, they definitely would have been furrowed as he watched the scene before him unfold. "Hehehelp! StohohoOHOHOHP THAHAT! UNHAHAND MEHEHE THIhis instahahahnt!" Douma was teasing the little moon, pinching and prodding at various spots along his torso, all but delighted with the reactions he was causing.
"Douma, stop that. I have received multiple reports on your behavior and I wish to consult you about it." The white haired demon froze as he turned his head to face Kokushibou. "Ahh~ You want me to be lonely and stay in my room forever? Koku, I value my friends and it would dampen my mood to be without them~" "Then allow me to accompany you."
A moment of silence was exchanged as Rui rolled away from Douma, running to a safe distance to watch. An intense glare met Uppermoon 2 as a small step was taken forward. Douma rose to his feet and bolted, Kokushibou making chase. Rui jumped back before giggling in his sleeves. The two scurried down the halls, complicated routes being taken as the icy demon attempted to avoid the wrath of the other.
As the two fled throughout the area, they came across Lowermoon 1, Douma barreling past them as they squeaked, rather startled. More confusing yet, was that the highest ranked among them was right behind him, hyper focused on the man in front of him. Figuring there must be a good reason for this, Enmu clutched his chest and fawned over the two. "How peculiar..."
"Eep!" Douma looked behind him briefly, only to see Kokushibou a mere few yards behind him. He picked up the pace, pumping his legs as he tried to lose the other. A turn was taken, then another. The lower rank looked behind him again, relief flooding through him as he saw that he had made a good distance from Kokushibou, however, that emotion was taken from him as he crashed into something, or rather, someone. A gasp was heard from whatever he knocked into.
Tumbling forward, Douma was caught midair by a single hand. He stared at the fist clenched around his shoulder, only to notice the dark fingers and red nails enclosed on him. Crap. Mere seconds later he felt two hands wrap around his torso. Douma's blood went frigid. Akaza removed his hand as Kokushibou took over, pushing the white-haired man to the ground and straddled his thighs.
The striped demon's face overtook his vision as an eerie grin sent chills down his spine. "So your finally getting what's been coming to you, huh? You know Douma, I think you've bothered enough of us for today." "I agree." Douma looked down to see Kokushibou agreeing with the lower-ranked out of the three.
"Although Akaza, I believe it is my duty to deal with this one. You may be excused." "Really? After all the times he's bothered me, your not going to let me get payback? Geez."
"Do not argue with me. I will not tolerate it."
"Ugh, fine. Douma, you suck."
Akaza hopped to a nearby platform, rolling his eyes as he headed off. Douma giggled nervously, averting his eyes as Kokushibou stared him down. "Um, Koku? Can't we talk about this? I didn't mean any harm!" "...What have I told you about calling me that. I intend to punish you for harassing multiple members of the Kizuki, as well as disobeying my orders in referring to me in such a manner."
"Oh.. What exactly did you have planned?~" Kokushibou's completely stoic expression changed, a small flicker of amusement flashing across his face, though it happened so quickly the icy demon questioned if it even appeared at all. "I figured I'd return one of the actions I've witnessed you give Lowermoon 5. It intrigues me to see how this treatment might affect you."
"W-What do you mean? Surely you wouldn't resort to-EEHEHEEK!" All the other had done was latch his hand onto the other's side, though that seemed to work just fine. "Yes, I wouldn't usually partake in such activities, but I'm willing to make an exception." The hand that was once attatched to the other now spidered up and down Douma's side, the blonde squeaking and turning his head to the side in a vain attempt to hide his reactions.
"Now, now, we can't have you hiding your face, can we?" A hand darted upwards, now scribbling along his neck as the other hand continued tormenting his side, occasionally squeezing his hip. "NoohohoHO! PLEHEHEase, I'm sohohoHOHORRY!" The blonde ducked his head down, writhing as he wrapped his arms around his torso, laughing like a child.
"I really don't believe that, and I can tell you don't either. Now, I think it is necessary that you properly apologize, as this is not the first time you have frustrated others by a long shot." Kokushibou switched spots, now pinching the shell of his ear and squeezed Douma's lower ribs. "ACK- Wahahahahit! Plehehease! Ihihit tickles!"
"Huh. I never considered that." the small glint in Kokushibou's eyes was back, but this time it remained on his face as Douma kicked his legs out, pushing at the higher-ranked demons shoulders. "Are you ready to properly apologize to all of those you have bothered, or do you want me to continue?" hands squeezed the other's hips.
"PFFFTEHEHEHHE! PLEHEHEASE STOHOHOP! I'LL AHAPOLOGIHIHIZE! IHI SWEHEHEAR!" seeing that the demon had had enough, Kokushibou stopped, now sitting next to the other as he recovered. Excess giggles spilled out of Douma's lips as he curled into himself. A few seconds later, He huffed out a breath as he sat up, a smile still etched onto his face.
Kokushibou rose to his feet, Douma following soon after. "Are you ready to apologize?" the smile splayed across Uppermoon 2's face turned cheeky, using the nickname once again. "But of course Koku. Let us go, shall we?" Kokushibou rolled his many eyes.
"Don't make me tickle you again."
I hope you enjoyed! I'm still recovering from a super high fever, but hopefully I'll be better soon. Have a good day/night!
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writersmorgue · 2 months
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Febuwhump Day 5 - Rope Burns
a personal favorite :P
TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 881
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Hanta releases some tape from his arm and kicks a piece of metal sticking from the roof. Deeming it sturdy, he wraps the tape and clutches Mina tightly to his chest with his free arm. 
“Meens, you gotta hold on, okay?” He says into her ear, steeling himself when he feels her grip on his neck tighten weakly. 
With one last glance at the wave of oncoming Nomu, he steps off the edge. 
He braces his legs on the bricks in front of him and begins to cascade down the building. The roar of the villains grows louder. 
If they get caught again, they’re dead. Mina can’t fight after what they did to her legs and he’s practically useless against the winged Nomu. 
He falls faster, immediately regretting not verbally warning Mina when she whimpers and shifts enough in on his chest to tip their weight too far to the side. 
“Shit!” He yelps, his boot slipping from the wall. His legs dangle, the weight of both him and Mina on his single tape strand almost unbearably painful. 
Fuck fuck fuck fuck, what do I do?!
Mina gasps at the sudden movement, her broken legs dangling uselessly as she begins to slip from Hanta’s grip. 
She digs her fingers into his neck, whispering frantically, “Hanta please don’t drop me. I don’t want to die, please please… I’ll hold on I promise I’ll do better!”
“Shh,” He sighs into her hair, hoisting his knee up to rest under her. He mentally prepares himself, loosening his grip on the tape ever so slightly, testing his grip, “You’re gonna be okay.”
He lets them drop. 
Immediately he feels the skin on his palms protest. Although he has thicker callouses than most from training, not even leather could withstand this much friction at such a high velocity. 
Something is screeching in his ear, but he can’t tell if it’s Mina or the wind.
She’s clutching onto him with more force than he expected, but honestly, the pain in his shoulders from her weight is helping distract him from-
The tape breaches his skin, digging directly into the meat and nerves of the crease between his thumb and index fingers. 
He yells, eyes watering as he tries to look up at his hand. 
Blood is spraying up into a fine mist, the rest staining the tape pink as he slides down. 
He grits his teeth, shaking his head and checking their progress. They’re pretty close to the ground now, considering. 
How the hell am I going to stop us enough to now decimate both our legs? If Mina takes another hit that hard I’m not sure she’ll make it. 
A blood-curdling hum pierces through his body, raising goosebumps across his skin and painful shivers down his back. 
Fuck, it hit the bone. 
Screw hitting the ground too hard, if it saws through my hand enough I won’t be able to hold us at all. If we freefall now, it’ll still be ten stories.
He thinks for a moment; Using his legs is impossible at this speed, he doesn’t have the strength to wrap his hand again, and recruiting Mina in any capacity is completely out of the question. 
He can only think of a few options, but all would cause him serious injury. 
Fuck, they’re falling too fast even with his hand. The only other option is death for both of them. 
He knows Present Mic is somewhere under them, so he just needs to be alive on the ground, and they’ll be okay.
Hanta breathes heavily through his nose, readjusting Mina in his arms so his other elbow is pointed upwards enough…
Now just to get the timing right.
He waits until he sees the glow of the street lights in his peripheral to let tape out of his other arm, giving it some slack before slowing the feed slightly-
Pain erupts from both of his shoulders, the bones cracking loud enough to be audible through the noise around them. 
Shit, too fast!
They jerk to a stop, Mina tumbling out of his arms only a few feet to the ground below. 
His head falls back, jolted by the stop, and he’s unable to muster the will to move anymore. 
“Cellophane!” Mic shouts, sending a bystander to drag Mina out of the way. 
Hanta is just dangling there, he can tell his dispensers are down to their last few inches without time to recharge. 
He’s sure pulling his arms out of their sockets didn’t help, but what little he can feel of his elbows burns like hell. 
Hanta groans loud enough to signal life, allowing Mic to cut his tape and grab onto him. 
There’s noise from above them, and the winged Nomu must not have been far behind because Mic pulls his head into his chest and activates his quirk into the air. 
Hanta winces at the volume and cries out in pain when Mic begins to run while carrying him. He can feel the arm not tucked between him and Mic dangling uselessly, sharp pains running up his arm to his upper back. 
“You were awesome, kid.” Mic says quietly once they’re inside the building, “You can rest now.”
Hanta grimaces weakly, though he would be grinning if he could. 
He did it. 
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peppermintreese · 3 years
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when you're trying to teach your sibling how to sing but instead they do a high pitch baby screech
she'll get it eventually
Orvente - @dontvap0rdawave
Reluv - me
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
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The Island | KTH (Twelve)
Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?
Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader
Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.
Word Count: 7.1k
Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, angst.
Notes: I know it’s short but here is chapter 12. It’s mostly just sad so please don’t hate me! Enjoy the chapter:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)
Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong @happyhrsme
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous --- Next
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The cold chill you feel is either from the apartments running AC or your rattling nerves…it’s incredibly hard to tell which. You may feel like your insides are turning against you but your exterior is oddly calm. Being back in the quiet, chilly apartment with Taehyung feels like you are trapped in another dimension, where you are viewing yourself outside of your own body.
You both sit here in silence. The quiet is loud though, it booms and echoes and has you covering your ears for a moment. You aren’t sure what Taehyung is thinking but it must be a lot. He hasn’t even parted his lips as if words might escape him…no, it is more as if his mouth has been sewn shut. You aren’t much better though, you admit. But you realize the one who has to have courage here is you.
“Taehyung.” You finally say his name, the soft, calm tone of your voice is enough to make him flinch in guilt. “Tell me everything.” You request quietly. “Tell me why Hana is so attached. What keeps Hana from giving up? I want the truth.”
Taehyung raises his head to look at you, you see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps down his ever growing guilt. You just want the truth, the story, the explanation but he is struggling to find words. He feels the back of his eyes beginning to burn, he feels his chest tightening and his palms growing with pools of sweat. He hates this. He hates the truth, he hates the story and he hates the explanation. But he knows you deserve it. And he himself deserves to say it so he can face it and let it go…if it is that easy.
Taehyung wipes his hands on his jeans, repeating the action as he hopes they dry soon but they don’t. Not when he is this nervous, this anxious, this panicked. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. He keeps saying these words over and over in his mind. He loves you.
“I told her I loved her.” He finally says, the words tumbling out of his mouth. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes falling to his hands.
Your brows immediately pinch together, your confusion growing and growing. You aren’t really sure that you heard him correctly. You aren’t really sure you want to have heard him correctly.
Taehyung slams his eyes shut as he grits his teeth together.
“But it isn’t like that, I promise you.”
You blink repeatedly, your eyes trying to find his but he avoids your gaze. You quickly shake your head and swallow your spit.
“You what?” you finally mumble.
Taehyung lifts his head higher and finally looks at you properly. His eyes are wet with tears, his lip trembling but he stops it by biting down on it.
“Fuck.” He closes his eyes again, a few tears slipping past the closed lids. “You don’t understand…” he tries to say. “It isn’t like that. I just…fuck, I really…”
“No excuses. Just an explanation.” You gulp. “Tell me exactly what happened.” You feel your chest closing in on you as you speak but you try to remain calm. “Everything.”
Taehyung is mad. He’s hurt. He’s betrayed. Your silence continues to destroy him. But is ‘mad’ even a good enough word to describe this rage that is building so fiercely inside him? Every day that passes he continues to spiral into a deep, deep pit. He feels helpless as soon as he opens his eyes, starting a new day. He feels small and vulnerable in those first few seconds after waking up. He doesn’t want to wake up anymore.
It’s gotten that bad, hasn’t it? That the thought of existing in this life makes him feel weak and useless. He can’t do this anymore. Who is he? Who was he? You know, before you. His body grows weaker every day, his mind withering away into dust. He doesn’t remember. The island feels like a dream now, and he just wants to sleep.
It’s been months of silence. It’s been hell. An eternal hell. What did he do? Why is this happening to him? Why is he going through this? Don’t you miss him? Don’t you love him? Taehyung is slowly breaking down more and more as the days pass, his insecurities overflowing and his loneliness consuming him. This place he is in…is dark.
His friends are worried of course and they try to spend as much time with him as possible. They are constantly trying to make him smile, make him laugh, make him breathe a little easier but this cloud over Taehyung’s head is dark. It flashes bright bolts of lightning, it carries the strongest winds and ice cold rain. Every day their hearts break more and more but they do not give up.
The night time air is warm tonight, maybe even slightly humid. Taehyung is already drunk, his intoxicated mind and body showing up late to the bar to meet his friends. He is in a strange mood today. A mood where he hates you. Despises you. And seeing Hana trying her hardest to woo him makes him feel like an ounce of insecurity is vanishing from his body.
But he didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect to be busting through his front door…kissing her, groping her, swallowing her moans. He isn’t here. Not really. Physically he is touching her, kissing her, making her feel good. But really, he is elsewhere. His mind full of you. You. You. You. Taehyung groans in frustration, in anger. But your face doesn’t leave his mind. His brain torturing him with images of you. He sees flashes of your face expressing emotion after emotion.
He loves you so much it is physically destroying him. He feels like his bones are shattering, like his skin is fucking burning, like his heart is being squeezed so harshly. And it is in your hands. You are responsible. But he isn’t entirely sure how he found himself in this position—inside her. Inside Hana. Inside someone who isn’t you.
Her moans fill his ears, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, like a screeching so unbearable it is overwhelming him in the worst way. His mind finds you again and again. He loves you. He hates you. He loves you. He hates you. He hates himself. He hates himself so fucking much. Why wasn’t he good enough then? Why isn’t he good enough even now? He hates you. He has to hate you. Your face haunts him.
He thrusts in and out of Hana, his weak body barely holding up as he fucks her. Your face, your beautiful face haunting him like a dedicated ghost of his past. He squeezes his eyes shut but your face continues to linger behind his closed lids. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you but FUCK. He fucking loves you. He loves you so much. He hurts so badly. He can’t function properly. So much hate. So much love. He sees you. He sees your face. And it is enough to push him over the edge, coming inside his condom. He wants to hate you. He has to hate you. But—
“I love you.” He cries out, his head falling onto Hana’s shoulder. He breathes out roughly, tears pricking his glossy eyes. But then he freezes. Even his breathing has stopped all at once. He realizes his mistake when he feels Hana freeze too.
“You what? You love—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Taehyung lifts himself from her shoulder, “Wait.” He repeats over, his mouth going dry. He didn’t mean to say that…especially not to her. His mind was just overflowing and overwhelmed with you…he didn’t mean to let those words slip from his lips.
“Taehyung—”
“Fuck.” He rolls off her body, “I can’t fucking do this right now.” He stands from the bed, drags on some shorts and takes a bottle of soju from his nightstand. “Fuck.” He says, giving one last glance to Hana before rushing off to the bathroom.
Hana is confused but is quick to jump to her feet and try to follow him but he’s faster than her as he slams the bathroom door shut and locks it. She rattles the knob, begging to be let in. She pounds her small fists on the wooden door, she begs for an explanation. Could he really feel the same as her? She’s panicking. She wants to believe that but before than anything she just senses that something is wrong. Really wrong.
Taehyung begins spiraling further and further. The dark pit pulling him in intensely. What the hell did he do? What is he doing? He’s a coward. He locked himself away, hiding from reality. Which is what? Even he doesn’t know. He brings the bottle of soju to his lips and starts chugging it back, his eyes on himself in the mirror. He’s pathetic. His drunken vision making everything around him blurry…he’s becoming so dizzy, so sick.
After a while, Hana has given up and retreated back to the bedroom and assumingly fell asleep in his bed. Around an hour or so has passed. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.
Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.
So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.
He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.
Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound. She pounds on the door again until Taehyung finds himself unlocking it. She opens the door and sees Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.
“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”
Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.
“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”
Hana is breathing roughly, her worries and anxieties only multiplying. What’s going on? Is this your doing? Are you to blame? The girl from the island?
Taehyung clears his throat as he finishes telling you his truth, his story, his explanation. His big, brown eyes look at you with tears, with sadness so deep it makes you nauseas. His eyes search yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but you are quick to pull back.
You are stunned silent. You truly do not know what to say. Your mind tries to focus on the fact that Hana thinks Taehyung told her he loves her but you keep thinking of everything else that was said, the broken mirror…the broken Taehyung. What did you do to him? What have you done to him mentally? Emotionally? Suddenly, Jungkook’s hesitance towards you makes even more sense. You understand his concerns but also Hana’s concerns. She called you a bitch and she is right.
It also makes sense why Taehyung feels so guilty, so responsible. He really fucked up. His guilt ridden state proves it. He’s guilty. Just like you. How is any of this healthy? You try to take a few deep breaths but you struggle. You aren’t sure where a steady breath is but you search for it regardless. You take your time trying to just fucking breathe. Taehyung becomes antsy just sitting here. He sighs out over and over, his eyes darting all around the room.
“Please y/n. Say something. Something, anything. Just anything at this point. Yell at me, hit me, but at least react! Please y/n.” he starts getting choked up on his words, his deep voice cracking in desperation. “Please say something.”
You just shake your head.
“y/n.” he begins to beg harder now, “Please baby, please.” He’s quick to jumble all of his words, he starts to re-explain himself now. Starting the story over from the beginning. His voice grows louder and louder as he cries out, he begins to break down. His tears falling from his swollen eyes, his breaths are sharp and his words are starting to lose their sense.
You just watch him with sad, tired eyes. Finally you open your mouth to speak just to whisper, “What did I do to you?” you let a moment linger before you stand from the couch and walk to his bedroom. The pitter patter of your footsteps drowned out by the sound of his tears. You walk inside the room and softly close the bedroom door…Taehyung manages to hear the click of the lock. While all you manage to hear is the sound of his cries.
~~~~~
You’re in a state of shock, maybe. You are in state so far away from your physical self that you have come to accept you aren’t one with your body right now. You’ve been locked in Taehyung’s room for like, two days now. You haven’t heard anything from outside…you wonder if Taehyung is even here. You don’t expect him to be.
Your phone starts buzzing and you shakily reach out for it when you see Ellie’s name on the screen.
“Hello?” Your voice is quiet, shaken, defeated.
“Want to explain your texts to me?” Ellie says on the other line, “Why the hell are you sending me paragraphs talking about how you are a horrible person?”
“Because I am.” You say, your guilt bubbling over all over again. “I am the worst.”
“I find that hard to believe…but why?”
“Not talking to him…ruined him El.” You start to sniffle…”I ruined him. He acts like he’s okay now but how much of this is fake? How much of this is he just covering up with a forced smile?”
“Hey, hey.” Ellie sighs out, “You knew things weren’t going to be easy going into this—”
“Yeah but when is enough, enough?” you cut her off, “This isn’t healthy. For either of us.”
“y/n. Wait.” You can imagine Ellie closing her eyes in frustration as she listens to you. “Don’t tell me you are giving up already?”
“It isn’t giving up…it’s just..”
“You love him, right? He loves you, right?”
“Is love enough?” you ask quietly. “There’s so much hurt…there’s so much that is unresolved.”
“Then work it out! Talk about it! Fucking communicate!” Elli blurts out, “Jesus y/n. This man is the love of your life and you’re not even willing to work on it? This wasn’t going to be easy. You knew that from the beginning. This was going to be hard. This was going to take work. For fucks sake, you two were traumatized. You two were put into a complicated situation and you somehow still found your way back to each other.” You nibble on your lips as you listen to your sister. “I’m sorry to be tough on you but god, someone has to set you straight! You can’t give up on this.”
“O-Okay…” you sigh out, “I’ll try.” Then you feel your phone buzz on your ear…you pull the phone back to take a look at the notification, only to see a text from Jimin.
“I love you y/n. I just want you to think things through properly. You know?”
“I love you too. Yeah, I get it.” You say. “I’m going to try to get some sleep…I’ll call you later?”
“Keep me up to date.” Ellie says before saying her goodbyes and hanging up.
You breathe out, trying to calm yourself after the conversation you two just had. Is Ellie right? It’s just…you knew Taehyung had a hard time but you didn’t know it was that bad. You get distracted from your thoughts when your phone buzzes again.
Jimin 8:04pm
Can you come over?
Jimin 8:10pm
Please.
Your chest once again starts closing in on you as you read his texts. You rise from Taehyung’s bed and slip on a t shirt and some shorts, you smooth down your hair and walk to the bedroom door. You place your ear on the wood and wait for any sound of life…but there is none. You slowly creep open the door and poke your head out. He’s not here.
y/n 8:14pm
He’s not there is he?
Jimin 8:24pm
No.
You sigh in relief. You step out into the living room, find your shoes and text Jimin that you are on your way. Lucky, his place is walking distance.
As soon as the chilly air hits you, you feel that same chill you felt in the apartment a couple days ago. Is it the weather or your nerves? Your mind has been in a state of uneasiness since Taehyung told you about the night with Hana…but you also feel lost, you feel empty. You haven’t even been able to cry. You’ve just been so disoriented. Like your soul has been misplaced.
The streets of Seoul are quiet tonight…maybe in honor of your feelings. You walk slowly, taking your time to get to Jimin’s. Too afraid of what he might say. Your mind begins over thinking, your mind goes into over drive. You finally stand outside his place and take a deep, deep breath.
You hesitate at first, but finally your fist is knocking on his door. You wait a few moments before the door is being opened and a Jimin with tired eyes greets you.
“You’re here.” He says softly. “Come inside.” He stands to the side to let you in.
His place smells of lavender. It’s subtle and soothing and you find yourself inhaling the scent, the aroma calming you.
“How are you?” You hear from behind you, his voice careful but sweet.
You turn around to face him, your eyes finding his and you see how they are full of sympathy, full of pity and your face immediately scrunches up into a look of pure devastation.
“I know.” He whispers. “Come here.” He opens his arms, ready for you to walk into them. You hesitate…not entirely too sure if you will find automatic comfort in Jimin but somehow you feel your feet walking forward. Your head bumps into his chest, your shoulders begin shaking in his grasp. You can’t control it. The pain you feel.
“It’s okay, I am here for you.” He whispers softly, his hand finding your back and rubbing it soothingly. “You can cry.” And you do. You open your mouth against his shirt and a whine of sadness escapes you. Your shut eyes streaming with fallen tears, your cheeks getting soaked. He sighs out as he holds you, his hand still patting your back as he tells you it’s okay.
“Jimin.” You sob against him, “I don’t know what to do. Everything’s so fucked up.” You cry harder and harder as he tells you he knows. His smooth voice is all the comfort you need…but his arms is the true source of comfort right now. You cry like this for a while, time zooming past you as you let go of all of your emotions. Jimin finds himself getting teary eyed at your break down.
“y/n…” Jimin finally says something after a while of you just quietly sniffling into his chest, “You doing okay?”
You slowly begin to pull away from him, your face puffy with swollen eyes and snot running down your nose. You subtlety nod your head and he gives you a small, soft smile.
“He ended things with Hana, you know? They won’t be in contact anymore.” He tells you, but he sees how you don’t even react.
“Isn’t that good?” he asks, “You won’t have to worry about her.”
Taehyung and Hana stand outside the bar, she is sniffling and swaying from side to side. Although she is still drunk, this entire situation is beginning to sober her up. She cannot even look Taehyung in the eye though, she’s too nervous.
“Hana.” Taehyung finally says her name. She hates the way the word leaves his mouth…like he tasted it and threw it away.
“I-I-I-…” Hana’s lips begins to quiver as she finally finds his cold eyes, “I’m so sorry.” She gets out, “I’m so sorry.” She steps forward but he steps back. “I don’t know what came over me. I regret it, Taehyung. I didn’t want to harm her in any way…I just… I was so overwhelmed with my feelings…”
“Hana…” he closes his eyes, then opens them to look at her properly.
Hana is a sweet girl. She always has been. But trying to throw a drink at you? That’s crossing a line but is it his fault?
“I’m not that type of person! I really, really don’t know what came over me Taehyung. I’m not like that…” she struggles to breathe, her words tumbling out of her mouth.
“I know.” He tells her. “I know.��� His face hardens and he continues to stare at her with his old, distant eyes.
“Please don’t contact me anymore—”
Hana looks at him in disbelief, her face twisting into one of ever growing confusion.
“How could you ask that of me?” she spits out, “I’ve been so, so worried about you.”
Taehyung’s cheeks begin to grow red, his becomes embarrassed remembering that night…with the mirror. Why did she have to see that? See that side of him?
“I’ve been so worried.” She repeats and he bites his lips in guilt.
“Hana…I am so sorry.” He breathes out, closing his eyes again. “I’m so, so sorry.” He opens his eyes, they are full of regret. “I’m sorry you had to be there that night. I’m sorry I led you on that night…I’m sorry you witnessed an ugly side of me. And I am sorry I said “I love you.” But those words…” he pulls his brows together, guilt consuming him once more. “…Were not meant for you.”
“Whether you feel the same way as me or not doesn’t change the fact that I am worried. I still care about you.” She begins to grow angry, “You were miserable because of her!”
“I’m sorry but…you don’t actually know her. So you opinion on her hardly matters.”
“But what she did to you…”
“It was wrong.” He admits, his eyes glossing over. “It hurt me. But she had her own reasons, her own demons, her own fight with herself.” He tells Hana. “But again, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to involve you like this. It wasn’t fair. But I am okay. I am okay now. y/n and I are working things out. She makes me happier than any sadness I went through.”
“You….you’re happier now?” she mumbles, wiping at her face. “You’re really okay now?”
“Yes.” He tries to smile. “I promise.”
“I’m going to choose to believe you…but please…be happy, Taehyung.”
“I will. But for the sake of my relationship…it’s best if we cut ties.” He tells her softly, “I appreciate your concerns…and you. But I really—”
“I get it.” Hana cuts him off. “I get it.” She nods her head, disappointment written all over her face. “Goodluck, Taehyung.”
You listen carefully to Jimin about how things went between Taehyung and Hana, you nod your head as he speaks and hum occasionally. But Jungkook’s words are lingering in your mind.
“Hana is the least of your worries.”
And he is right. Hana only opened the door and opened your eyes to the real problem : You.
“For fucks sake, woman.” Taehyung runs a hand down his face. “I am literally falling in love with you!”
Your eyes quickly dart across the room, you try to find something to focus on—anything but Taehyung.
“Look at me.” He demands of you. “Now.” And then you are feeling his fingers at your jaw as he softly guides you to face him. “I am going to make sure this works no matter what. And that will take a lot of fucking communication. So talk.”
“I…” your eyes finally find his, they’re like a pool of chocolate and you find yourself wanting to take a dip. “I don’t know if I am ready.” You breathe out, the admission making you feel small.
Taehyung gulps, his hands coming together to rest in his lap.
“Ready for what?” he asks, the nervousness evident in his voice.
“You.”
Taehyung’s hands are sweaty as he holds onto himself, bracing himself if you are to continue but you don’t. You stay silent as you search his eyes.
“Tae?”
Taehyung blinks at you, clearing his throat.
“I…” he begins, “I understand.”
“I do like you Taehyung.” You clarify before he can overthink. “I just—”
“I said I understand.” He reminds you softly. “And trust me, I know you like me, I would be blind to think you didn’t. I don’t play games y/n. I don’t want you to either. Be real with me, be honest.” He releases a shaky breath. “You’re still going through a lot, you probably don’t have closure…you probably have a lot to work out when you get back home.” He says quickly, “Love is the last thing on your mind—”
“That’s not true!” you cut in. “God, Taehyung you make me…you make me want to forget everything. You make me want to stay on this island with you for forever.”
Taehyung blinks at you again before he offers you a small smile.
“But that’s not real life y/n.” he looks down at his hands, “I want to experience real life with you.” He finds your eyes again, “And you aren’t ready for that.”
“I want to be.” Your eyes begin to wet with tears. “I really, really want to be.”
“I know baby.”
“Slow.” You scoot closer to him, “I still want to be in this. Just slow.” You say, not believing yourself. Your trauma isn’t your only problem here. It’s this whole damn company.
“You still want me?” Taehyung whispers softly and you begin to feel yourself melt into liquid, your body puddling on the couch.
“Tae…” you lean into his space, pecking his lips lightly. “Yes, of course.” You lean back and smile. “You mean so much to me…” you look down at his tense hands. You want to comfort him now. “You are such a light in my life.” You fingers cover his hands and your squeeze lightly. “I feel so strongly for you.” You admit. Hating yourself for being so drawn to him.
“Yeah?” he releases some of the tension in his body through a long, shaky breath.
“Yeah.”
“Then we have to communicate. I know it’s hard. But y/n, I am quite literally desperate to make this work.” He sighs, “I will do whatever it takes. And I just want to know if you will do the same.” His dark eyes pierce into yours and you find yourself being even more drawn to him, leaning closer and closer like he has you under some sort of spell.
“Yes, Taehyung. But…”
“She quit her job out of nowhere! Came back home? This isn’t damn suspicious to you honey?” Your moms voice is loud enough for you to hear from the living room.
“She said she has her reasons sweetheart. Let’s just trust her, be there for her.”
“Do you think this has anything to do with that boyfriend she had? You think they broke up?” you mother pries further, making your father roll his eyes.
“You think our daughter would move to another town just because of a break up?” he groans and you bite your bottom lip as you eavesdrop.
You hear your mother scoff, “Wouldn’t be that surprised. She’s known for running away when shit hits that fan.” She reminds your dad and you feel your eyes gloss over and the slight burn of your throat.
“Sweetheart…” you father warns, “Let’s just be there for her for now, she will come to us eventually.”
But will you? Even your father isn’t sure.
You feel the tightness in your chest only intensify as you recall your memories. Taehyung watches you with careful eyes as he thinks of your life and the things you’ve been through. He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you into his chest, your head getting buried into his shoulder and he starts to soothingly rub your back.
“You can cry if you need to.” His voice is soft, softer than you have ever heard it. This only pushes you to listen to him…you cry. You cry just as hard as you did in the elevator that first day. He rubs circles into your back and whispers sweet words into your hair. You hate this. You feel pathetic. But somehow you feel yourself getting freed with every tear that drops and soaks into his t shirt. You finally…finally after all this time, for the first time, feel someone’s support. You feel someone understand you, believe you.
“Taehyung…” you cry into his shirt harder as that realization hits you. “Taehyung…”
He slams his eyes shut and inhales you. The scent of your shampoo filling his senses and he goes dizzy.
“I’m here baby. I’m here.”
But he won’t always be here, you think. Once he goes home why wouldn’t he just continue to live his normal life? Why wouldn’t Hana wait for him? He’s amazing. He’s absolutely the best thing that has happened to you in the last year. Why wouldn’t someone wait for him?
This only makes you cry harder. He pulls you into his lap and continues to stroke your back. He is terrified. He won’t say that out loud, but he is. He is falling for you harder and harder with every moment he spends with you, good or bad. He just wants to protect you, to be there for you, to make you safe and happy.
“y/n?” he leans back to get a look at your crying face, but you only shove your face deeper onto his shoulder, refusing to be seen right now.
“Will you look at me?” he softly pleads. “Please.”
You hesitate for a moment but finally lift your head, showing him your swollen eyes and puffy lips.
“Still think you are falling in love with me?” you joke pathetically and Taehyung smiles sadly.
“I think I already am.”
You get pulled out of your memories with Jimin gently shaking your shoulder, he looks at you as your eyes fill with tears.
“I…” your eyes finally find his, they’re like a pool of chocolate and you find yourself wanting to take a dip. “I don’t know if I am ready.” You breathe out, the admission making you feel small.
Taehyung gulps, his hands coming together to rest in his lap.
“Ready for what?” he asks, the nervousness evident in his voice.
“You.”
Taehyung’s hands are sweaty as he holds onto himself, bracing himself if you are to continue but you don’t. You stay silent as you search his eyes.
“Tae?”
Taehyung blinks at you, clearing his throat.
“I…” he begins, “I understand.”
“I do like you Taehyung.” You clarify before he can overthink. “I just—”
You can’t help it…the tears are uncontrollable. You are stuck in your memories. You are stuck with words of the past…that have such relevance to right now.
“I…” You hiccup, Jimin holding on to your hands. “I’m not ready for this.” You finally admit.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Jimin panics, “You’re not thinking of—”
“You’ve been a good friend, Jimin.”
“y/n, wait—”
Jimin’s wide eyes are pleading as his stares at you, his words practically falls out of his mouth as he begs you to rethink this.
But you can’t. You won’t. Your mind is made up.
~~~~~
“We should probably talk about it, right? What this all means, I mean.” His questions causes a shift in the atmosphere. The air becoming a little thicker.
You only nod and turn on your feet to head back into the bedroom. He quickly follows behind you, both of you stopping at the foot of the bed.
“Let’s talk then.” You bite your lip, swaying side to side.
He needs to be honest. He is clearly so confused about all this. Fucking puzzled. He means, what if just what if this company was real? And this company was…right? Are you really a match made in heaven? No, that can’t be. That would be fucking ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous for even considering it. But you two obviously need to talk. Have a fucking chit chat.
You plop down on the edge of the bed and he follows your lead, finding a spot right next to you. Your knee shakes up and down quickly while you play with the hem of your shirt. You’re obviously nervous as fuck, which he can’t really blame you. He watches you for a few moments before hesitantly placing a hand over your shaking knee, trying to stop the anxious movement and hoping to God he is not crossing any serious lines, he’s just really getting annoyed by your shaking knee and needs that shit to stop. You turn your head to face him and he is met with a look of frustration. He turns his head to face straight ahead and with a heavy sigh he says, “I feel that way too.” Because it’s true, you both must feel the same. It’s not like you want to be stuck here with him either. Right?
You finally let out a long breath, “How long?” you whisper. “How long will we be stuck here?” you begin to sniffle as your eyes become wet. Shit. He brings his hands to his lap and interlocks his fingers together.
“I…I don’t know.” He answers honestly. “But what are your thoughts? On what we read…” he clears his throat, clarifying as if it wasn’t already obvious.
You suck in a sharp breath, “I don’t know what to believe.” You admit. “But we are…” you gesture between you two, “This is—This is not happening.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes as if that was the most obvious statement in the world. He. Could. Not. Agree. More.
You continue, “Someone deciding for me? On this part of my life? That doesn’t sit right with me. No fucking thank you.”
“Yeah, me either.”
“I mean,” you turn to face him, “You seem decent and all, when you’re not being an ass, but this is all insane. Just insane.” You wear an annoyed expression, shaking your head in disbelief. He breathes out of his nose in attempt to laugh.
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
“But…” you pause, choosing your next words carefully…you have to be careful with this next part. “But if it’s real? What are we—” and yup, just as expected, you are cut off with just a look. He furrows his brows together and pushes his head back in surprise.
“This can’t be forced y/n.” he states firmly. You raise your hands up in surrender.
“Oh my god, Taehyung. I know that! I fucking know, jeez. But we have to talk about all the possibilities.” You say firmly, “We’re stuck here for who knows how long and you read the same thing as me, right?” you push on, “3 months? 6 months? A fucking year?” you drag a heavy hand down your tired face. “And don’t even get me started on these damn ‘Requests’ and whatever they are!” You are clearly very frustrated…Taehyung looks at you with the same pity you’re sure he feels for himself.
“Okay, okay.” For the first time Taehyung speaks to you much more softly. “Listen, they can’t keep us here forever? We are going to prove we are that 1%. We just got to stay out of one another’s way and just wait it out until they return us home.” Then his frown deepens, “But wait, what about the ‘Requests’?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.
You strum your fingers on your thigh, staring down at your lap, in deep thought.
“I know this is weird but…” Taehyung starts.
“I know, we have to talk about it.” You finally look up at him and your entire face has gone pink.
“If the ‘Requests’ are, I don’t know, “pure” enough, we could just like do them?” you look at him with doe eyes, “Or like, if the penalty isn’t that bad…. I don’t know.” You ramble on.
The thing is, neither of you know what to expect from these ‘Requests’ and their penalties. It’s one huge mystery. And neither you nor Taehyung are a fan of mysteries. Taehyung watches as you begin shaking your knee in total panic again when he clears his throat.
“Hey…I think we can worry about that when or if the time comes, okay?”
“When or if…” you repeat slowly. “Okay.”
He stands from his place at the bed and begins walking towards the bedroom door.
“As long as we stay out of each other’s way, we should be good.”
“Stay out of each other’s way…” you nibble on your lips, “Like, we don’t talk or anything?”
“Precisely. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
“But—”
“That’s just the way it’s got to be.”
“Fine.” You speak bitterly, “Fine by me.”
Stuck on a beautiful island in a beautiful house with a beau—with a man. What could possibly go wrong? Vacation from hell, here we go.
You sit on Taehyung’s living room sofa, the apartment eerily quiet until you chuckle bitterly at your memories. The place may be silent save the running AC but your mind is loud. The sound of the front door unlocking and opening doesn’t even make you flinch. You have been waiting in anticipation, expecting him to eventually show up.
Taehyung walks in, not saying a word. He quietly sets his keys down on the table near the front and begins dragging his feet towards his living room. He stops in front of his couch, breathes out a long, tired breath as he finally takes a spot on the couch, sitting away from you.
He sits down, sighs out and fold his hands in front of him.
You aren’t entirely sure how much time has passed, how much silence has lingered between you two. Neither of you saying anything yet saying everything. You both know. You sit here, your head bowed down as you continue to think. Your loud mind becoming even louder…like a booming sound effect echoes annoyingly, causing you to get a headache.
There are three things you know: One, You love Taehyung. Two, you aren’t ready for Taehyung. And three, he isn’t ready for you. You finally lift your head, your glossy eyes searching the room before they find him. His eyes find yours and you both share a look of despair. You both feel the pain of this.
Taehyung scoots closer to you, his hands scrambling to find yours. You accept his hands easily. He leans in closer and closer until his soft lips find yours. The kiss is slow, soft, and torturous. He pulls away from you, his fingers cupping your jaw before his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in and holding you close.
“I fly out in the morning.” You tell him, your voice is soft and calm. You feel him nod in understanding, his fingers tangling in your hair as he massages your scalp.
“Will we…” he clears his throat, trying to make sure his voice doesn’t crack. “Will we still talk?” he asks as his chest tightens.
“This isn’t….the end, is it?” he gulps back the burning in his throat.
“I don’t know.” You decide to respond honestly. And you really, truly do not know. You realize this is much bigger than what the island did to you. This is much bigger then Hana’s presence in Taehyung’s life. This is much bigger than Ben. This is to the core…about you two. And how you are each the most imperfect human beings who just…can’t. Not now at least. Not when you have so much to heal from, so much to go through. There is so much growing to be done…as individuals.
“Let’s not have any expectations.” You say quietly. “That could hurt us more in the end.”
Taehyung closes his eyes as he breathes you in, like it’s for the last time. And it really might be.
“I understand.” He chokes out softly, “I understand.”
He kisses the top of your head, his lips staying on your hair for several seconds, causing you to close your eyes and release a long breath.
He holds you close this night. He inhales you over and over. He memorizes every millimeter of your face as he gazes at you. He doesn’t want to let go of your hand at the airport, he doesn’t want to say goodbye. But he knows he has to let go.
You fly back home and you aren’t sure how it happened…but…
One entire year passes you both by.
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hollyhomburg · 3 years
Text
Reasons Wretched And Divine (Pt. 8)
(Yoon Min Joon x Reader) (Hybrid au) (Mafia au)
Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers in hidden lies and dead bodies. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks. The clock ticks closer- every second he has with you bringing him closer to zero.
Tags: pregnant! Reader, Dead bodies, hybrid on hybrid violence, referenced police mistreatment/indifference, mentions of emotional/physical abuse, referenced drug use/overdosing, Angst, touch starved characters, violence, explicit sexual content, foursome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, Breeding kink, knotting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, unrealistic amounts of cum, cumplay, marking kink, Dom/sub undertones, Dom! Namjoon- Sub! everyone else, Cum control, Overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)
W/c: 20.3k~
A/n: get ready for some nasty af smut~ But also be mindful of the angsty tags. You guys are gonna hate me for the cliffhanger! 
Series Masterlist
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One month after your husband's death
- Yoongi had learned when and where not to provoke his owner over the years. Yoongi hadn’t been born with the ability to hold his tongue, His biting proclivities earning him more than a few broken ribs and bloody noses in his lifetime. But no matter, his owner had trained his tongue out of him, had even threatened to cut it out on occasion.
- And yet, his personality couldn’t be measured in the same way, a simple eye roll or a huff or sigh was enough to land him in trouble. Which is why he’s in the position he’s in now; Bloody lip, another bruise likely forming under his eye and on his ribs. His head spinning from what is likely another concussion. How many could a person get before they had brain damage? Whatever the number- Yoongi was probably toeing the line or already over it.
- He’s trying to avoid more damage, which is why he sits outside of the living room of their double-wide trailer. His owner has a nicer house somewhere- but this is the place that’s always functioned as the stomping grounds for all of her illegal business. And It’s the only building that Yoongi’s ever been able to call home.
- The yellowing walls that have turned greasy with cigarette smoke over the years, as well as the thin blanket and the pillow that he uses on the couch when no ones hanging around. If they are and the house is filled with gangsters- Yoongi’s usually doomed to the floor or until they leave for the night. Only able to sleep without his back to the wall when the gangsters stop their drugging (usually methamphetamines) and intoxication (most often moonshine)
- More than one person’s overdosed on the couch that Yoongi calls his bed. He tries not to think about it when he goes to sleep. What did it matter if someone else had died here- at least Yoongi was still alive.
- Even breathes stick in Yoongi’s lungs like honey, something dammed and impure. It’s a testament to his nerves (or years of learned abuse) that he doesn’t flinch when the crashes and bangs increase from the other room. It’s just glass breaking- now gunfire- that would have Yoongi ducking and running for cover.
- Revelry like he’s used to surviving through hasn’t existed in recent months, not since the business, or lack thereof had started to seep into every moment like a slow-moving poison. Gang wars are messy and they take years to play out. But it hadn’t been until four weeks ago that his owner’s gang had suffered its first casualty. A gang couldn’t exist without its plug, and now there was a power vacuum in the underworld. And whoever controlled the supply would be the most in-demand.
- “I’ve had enough of your bullshit excuses! If you don’t find the shipment this instant I’m going to start blowing brains like bubbles” his owner screeches. A tumble and shatter sounds from the other room, probably the plate of food Yoongi took in before. Cooking was one of his only valuable skills according to his owner, and he’s spent at least a quarter of his life avoiding a beating by becoming a better cook.
- The threat doesn't bother him. Yoongi barely lets himself think about the business of the gang, the bloodstains and bodies that they’ve most definitely left in their wake. He tries not to let it bother him knowing that there will probably be more in the next few months. His only concern is making sure his body isn’t one of them.
- Yoongi doesn’t care about anything other than keeping himself alive. And even that just barely.
- He listens from outside the door, her screaming finally quieting. This isn’t the first meltdown of her’s he’s witnessed this week. He hears the rustling of papers, silence from her as whoever's on the other side of the phone speaks. “Yeah I have it, fuck- his bitch must really be moving if she already has this in the goddamn paper.” She pauses, and Yoongi hears one of the gangsters stoop to try and clean up the mess that she’s surely made, “If that’s true, I think I know the perfect person for the job- if you can even call it that.” 
- It helps that Yoongi’s not expected to speak. Sometimes, when there’s a loud enough noise, or when he sneaks out to walk the sum mile to the beach, Yoongi speaks. Just a sentence or two at a time, his voice gruff and sore after a few words. Just to make sure that he can still do it and hasn’t forgotten how. That his voice still exists hidden somewhere in his chest and his throat. Locked away like a delicate yolk- only able to be seen if you break the eggshell outside.
- “Yoongi!” his owner shrieks, and he has the good sense to hasten to a place where she can see him. He stands in the doorway and doesn’t meet her eyes. There are a few assorted gangsters here. His owner looks unhinged, her flyaway hairs sticking in front of her face, wiping away smudged lipstick and a fair amount of saliva that had dripped down her chin from all her screaming.
- “I have a job for you” She tosses a newspaper at him, and Yoongi catches it easily. Careful not to step into the mess of glass that would surely cut his feet. A drawn red circle cuts through an article on a local high school to highlight something in the purchased ads. Just a little map with a heading “hybrid sanctuary: a safe place, three meals a day. If you or anyone you know has witnessed hybrid abuse, please call this number for help.”
- Yoongi looks up, giving her a short nod. Yoongi will do whatever she needs in order to survive. Anything to keep the blood in his veins and his heart beating. 
- He listens patiently while she explains the plan.
---------- Now---------
- The clock ticks, and You don’t find the body until noon. By then there are flies buzzing around him. Blood already dried on those fingertips and underneath His fingernails- the sun warming his body like the hybrid could still be alive.
- You’re just retiring from a day working in the garden (usual and ordinary) when one of the bear hybrids thunders through your door- his eyes wide, shouting for you (strange and surprising). Yoongi is the only one with you; Jimin’s just set off down the hill to change. Namjoon’s not in the house either; helping Jin with more fencing for the animals. 
- Your grim expression is mirrored in the terse face of the teenage hybrid that had been going for a walk when he’d found him. You’d started down the hill at a run At least until Yoongi had stopped you. Eyeing your stomach with a worried expression. It’s not that you can’t run or that he doesn’t think you should it’s that the hilly path down to the front entrance is littered with potholes.
- It’s not your first time seeing a dead body (that honor is owed to your late husband) but the unnatural way a body lies still is always incredibly unnerving. You lean over the body nausea rolls in your belly worse than it ever did in the first few months you were battling your morning sickness. But you know you can’t vomit over a crime scene.
- You recognize the body, It’s one of your hybrids; a coyote hybrid that came to you after the second month you were open, and had come and gone quite a bit since then. You need to look at your ledger to know for sure if he was in-between stay or if he’d been here prior to today.
- You tend to be a little laxer with the hybrids that aren’t permanent residents of the farm. You barely even learn the names of the deer hybrids that come for a dinner or two here and there before they go. You’re used to the nomads and this hybrid was one of them. You’re kicking yourself for that now. Because if you have a killer in your mix- a shiver goes down your spine at the thought of any of them being in danger. You need to get all of your hybrids in one place to make sure they’re safe. Right now.
- You turn to yoongi and the teenager; a bear hybrid from Tae's group- Beomgyu. You recall the little details you know about him- how he likes to hang around with Yeonjun and the other cats in the kitchen sometimes. He’s so young, eyes wide, shaking his head making his curved ears flop when he finally tears his eyes away from the body and looks at your face. 
- You make your voice more soothing, “Ring the lunch bell- get everyone by the main barns okay? We need to make sure everyone is accounted for” the bear hybrid turns to run up the hill but you catch his arm. “The barns have to direct a line of sight to here- so keep the children in the far-field, after you ring the bell- get Namjoon and Taehyung and tell them to come here before you tell anyone what's happened.” The last thing you need is a group stumbling around here and contaminating a crime scene.
- He leaves with a thunder of footsteps in the dry grass, “Yoongi” you say, “Would you mind going up to the main house to get the logbook and my cellphone?” Yoongi looks like he doesn’t want to leave eyeing the road with a suspicious glare. Making a noise in his throat and staying put. “Yoongi” your voice is strangled- like you’re trying not to cry. “He’s been dead for hours, any danger here has passed, I’m safe- I promise.” but Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your hand and then thinks better of it.
- At the sound of heavy footsteps you both look back up the hill- Namjoon racing in your direction, his ears pinned to his head with Taehyung not far behind. He gives you one final glance and nods before he takes off up the hill. Namjoon stops when they pass, calling his name but Yoongi doesn’t stop. “let him go Namjoon” you call behind.  
- The bell that they use to call people in at mealtimes tolls out across the field.
- Yoongi watches as the kits raise their heads from their playing in the field. A look at the sun telling them that it’s too early to be called in for dinner, lunch just finished. The confusion that gives way to panic as he travels through a crowd of older hybrids. He almost runs into one of the cat hybrids as she leaves the kitchen. Shouting back to her friend that’s fussing with something. “Just turn off the stove- something’s wrong we need to go.”
- Yoongi snatches the book from your small office off the living room and thunders back down the porch steps, pausing when he sees it. Anyone else might not have noticed the difference- or noticed it at all. But Yoongi used to survive by noticing the small day-to-day differences in his world; and it’s a habit that hasn’t died even though Yoongi no longer needs it to survive.
- There is a piece of paper stuck behind your windshield wipers on your car. Not a ticket and not a note- but a business card. And Yoongi knows it wasn’t there yesterday.
- Yoongi pauses, your phone in one hand, and the logbook in another. He shoves your phone in his pocket and wastes precious seconds to retrieve it. It’s simple- just plain cardstock a single sentence on the other side. “You’re welcome” there isn’t any signature beside a small doodled bunny rabbit. 
- Yoongi knows that signature. Memories dredge up from the bottom of his mind like a swell of cold water washing over him. He’d seen his old owner- (his current owner- his own internal monologue berates him) go into a rage after seeing that same moniker spray-painted across her truck or buildings on more than one occasion.
- Yoongi rolls his tongue over his teeth, putting it together. His owner’s words- dimly alluding to a second mole at the farm- warning Yoongi to be careful. And now this- a thank you card from a rival gang. Chaos whirls around him as different groups run to the barns. He hears Taehyung’s raised voice “Everyone quiet! I need you to listen to me- please!” 
- Other hushed words echo from the field as Yoongi puts it together. In a moment, Yoongi knows what’s happened- but he can’t for the life of him understand the motivation.
- What motivation could his owner’s rival have to kill their mole? And if he knew who at the farm was connected to the gang life- why didn’t he kill Yoongi last night too? This body and this note raise too many questions.
- Yoongi doesn’t think it through, just shoves the card into the bottom of his work boot, hiding it so that it lies flat under his sock. Knowing it's better to hide it then hand it over to the police. Yoongi’s hands shake with the very idea of you being caught up in this mess. Although it looks like it's already too late for that. How much less involved can you be with a dead body on your front doorstep?
- If the note is addressed to you? How much do you know about your late husband's business- if anything?
- You attribute Yoongi’s shakiness to the dead body you’re deceptively calm- nausea set aside when he gets back. yoongi nearly runs into taehyung on the way down the hill. Anger an annoyance and worry rolling off the bear hybrid in heady waves. “Don’t worry- Jimin and I have nearly everyone in the barns already, and Daehyun and Hoseok are taking care of the cubs on the other side of the field” 
- Taehyung barely looks at Yoongi as he passes, shouting at you over his shoulder. It helps to hear that Jimin is all right, but Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll believe it until he sees the other hybrid with his own two eyes. Namjoon looks much the same. Though he holds your hand tight as he can.
- You call the police the second Yoongi hands over your phone. And together- you wait for them. Namjoon sends an anxious glance both of your ways. It doesn’t take long before you can hear the sirens heading in your direction, echoing out over the empty hills.
- Back up at the barns, Jimin sits on the second floor, the windows are opened to their full capacity to let in a nonexistent breeze. The top floor of the barn isn’t really the most comfortable place to be in the middle of the day, the heat muggy, and all-encompassing. But every dog hybrid is in their bunk room. but it’s too hot to be comfortable regardless of the fans running at full power. Jimin sits on the floor dangling his feet over the side.
- Below- Jimin watches Taehyung as he does a headcount. Clipboard in hand, shouting names and waiting for people to respond. the hybrids have separated themselves by type, bunny hybrids on the outer edge, bear hybrids close to the center around Tae, Cat hybrids on the ground floor to stay out of the sun. Jimin and dog hybrids- the most easily riled up and hardest to contain because of their energy- on the top floor where they’d all stay put and not sneak off. 
- Jimin’s room has already been counted, there isn’t much left to do but wait and watch. If he looks over the hillock he can see the police cars and you. The flashing blue and red lights and a small group.
- A small crowd has gathered to watch and linger, police tape set up to the entrance of your farm. A few of your neighbors gathered too at the sound and small-town gossip is sure to follow. Your two closest neighbors- an elderly couple come over to ask you a few questions about all the commotion. They’ve never been unpleasant to you or hostile, still happy that you took their farm animals off their hands many months ago. But they remain firmly separated from your hybrids on either side of a circle of crime scene tape.
- When Jimin looks to the other side, he can see Hoseok and another dog hybrid with the children. Sequestered them with a bunch of games and ice pops on the other side of the hill, away from any and all possibility of them seeing something they shouldn’t.
- Even some of your hybrids linger around the crime scene. the leaders of various groups that need to see for themselves. Beomgyu is here too as well- even though you gave him a look that said you dont need to see this. As it is, you give the teenagers that refuse to go a questioning cross look. Yeonjun in particular just shrugs at you when you give him an expectant look. All of the teenaged hybrids are particularly used to your no-nonsense looks. It doesn’t help that he’s several inches taller than you. 
- “You really think this is the first time I’ve seen a dead body?” one of the other cat hybrids has the good sense to cuff him over the back of his head for that one. You know he’s young, but some respect for life and death is something he’ll have to learn at one point or another. If he wants to stay that bad- you’ll let him. 
- Namjoon might hate the police, but he does speak their language, and it’s easy for you to sink to his side and rely on him to take over the story as you relate everything you know (which isn’t much). The pack leaders- or what would be the pack leaders all waiting on the fringes. Taehyung comes back to tell you that there isn’t anyone but a few bunny hybrids missing- quickly sniffed out by one of the dog hybrids, all of them looking a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed from whatever they were doing.
- That gets a few laughs out of everyone that’s gathered- Taehyung shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but tempers still remain raised. From the top story of the barn, Jimin watches it unfold. Taehyung shoots him a tired look.
- A quick look at your ledger shows that the last time the hybrid left was just a little over a week ago. Your fingers hover over the date. The book is photographed by the crime scene photographers too, the camera bulbs flashing, a few of your more sensitive hybrids have to turn away- the bright flash too glaring. The officers take little notice of their discomfort.
- They tell you that they might come back to collect it for official evidence. It’s nice to have something to give the police to show them that the hybrid wasn’t in your care when he died. You have a good reputation with them because of your ex-husband as much as you hate to admit it. And it’s jarring to hear you referred to as his widow, especially with Namjoon standing so close, a protective presence between you and the police. 
- A few months ago you might have started breaking down when you heard his name, but all you have to do is look at Namjoon to know that you’re okay, you’re both safe. 
- Well maybe not now- if you have a killer in your midst then you’re all certainly not as safe as you thought.
- For all the feaux concern they have about the dead hybrid- the ones around you might as well be window dressing. They would have ignored Namjoon entirely if he hadn’t introduced himself as an ex-police hybrid.
- It’s more than that, their unconcern sinks under your skin and makes you want to shout at them as they take his body away in a black body bag. They promise you they’ll try to find whatever killed him. They don’t look too bothered- another dead hybrid isn’t anything new or a cause for panic to them, about as regular as finding any other pet- and not a fucking human being- dead or murdered.
- The police tell you they’ll do what they can- but a dead hybrid is hardly their priority, even if it makes a growl build in Namjoon’s throat when they brush off your concern. Your blood boils. 
- But as the sequestering drags on and on into the afternoon- and the temperature increases with every moment everyone still has to stay put. the idle chatter quickly turns agitated. In the main barn- A few of them have been playing cards on and off, most of them in states of undress because of the heat. Jimin is the only man still wearing his shirt, though it’s only his tank top.
- “What the fuck do you think it is? Who do you think killed them?” Jimin listens in on the other hybrid's conversation against his own violation. He’s never been close to the other dog hybrids at the farm save for Namjoon, and he’s not about to start right now. They laugh, but it sounds more like a bark- or a hyena chuckle, “you know me- if there’s an issue my money's always on the snake,”
- Jimin’s head whips around, “Excuse me?” the hybrids turn to him, “oh Jimin- we forgot we were here” if they want that insult to sting- they’re going to have to try a little harder. Jimin was used to being forgotten for the first half of his life, and that won’t start hurting now.
- Sweat drips down the back of Jimin’s neck, “he has a name you know,” he says with no real venom. it’s greeted with resounding scoffs from a few of his bunkmates. He lets the silence sit for a moment before the weight of it grows too oppressive for him to handle, “What?” he says feeling like he’s missing something. The rest of the hybrids in the bunk room fall quiet.
- The dog hybrid- Taeyong- Jimin’s brain reminds him, snickers. “Nothing- just- figures you’d be possessive of him after yesterday.” A flush of heat hits Jimin’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Someone must have seen Yoongi leave the showers and then seen Jimin leave a short minute later looking sex dazed. He knows the meeting had left his scent all smelling like honey arousal. They must have put two and two together.
- Damn those bunny hybrids with their sensitive noses. Now that Jimin thinks about it- Taeyong is a friend of one of them- a small little rabbit called Jihan.
- Jimin shrugs it off because fuck them- he is protective of Yoongi and this conversation only shows the reason for that. But they don’t leave it at that- not at all. Taeyong taps his foot against the floor, grinning and showing the edge of a sharp incisor “Being with him will only end you in an early grave you know, but you might as well keep your head down and enjoy your one-way ticket to living up at the big house.” 
- “That’s not why I’m- we’re not-“ he doesn’t know what to say, he can’t say that he’s with Yoongi- not officially, not yet. And though there is something with them. Jimin doesn’t know how to put a name to it. let alone how to put a name to what he has with all of you. 
- There must be something written on his face, because the hybrid sits back, satisfied that he’s hit Jimin with something that can stick. The other hybrids snicker. A fair few turn away- sensing the fight that’s about to develop, content to stay out of it.
- “You know he doesn’t deserve to be up at the big house right,” Jimin can’t stop himself from getting angry at the calloused way they talk about Yoongi. His temper rising with the heat, Jimin has never been good at holding his tongue, and maybe it’s his fault that things happen the way they do. Jimin rises, and so does Taeyong, Suddenly chest to chest, “well if he doesn’t deserve it- you certainly don’t, maybe if you guys were just kind for once in your life you’d be staying up there too.” Jimin barks.
- A few other hybrids blanch, and more turn away, Jimin’s misspoke- can judge by the silence that he’s the one being judged. “And I actually happen to enjoy their company- I’m not-”
- Jimin knows what he’s just insinuated, that being loved is just a correlation of being kind and pleasant to be around. (You’ve been talking through that particular thing with him. The fawn response to abuse. And Jimin knows he should unpack that later, but like many other things- it just slips out. His post-traumatic stress disorder makes him think things he knows are wrong. He doesn’t believe the words he says, not really.)
- Taeyong steps forwards, and Jimin shrinks back sudden bravery forgotten. “You’re not what? Being a manipulative little puppy? Batting your eyes at them so that you could get a spot? Go tell that lie to someone who believes you. You might be a puppy, but you’re a snake to your core.” 
- Jimin has never wanted Taehyung to be there more than now. Where is he when he needs him? Jimin looks back through the open window, but Taehyung isn’t below them on the patio. Their fight seems to have gotten more than a little attention. Wide eyes upturned, startled by the sound of raised voices. It's the wrong moment to look away because suddenly Jimin’s reeling from a shove, two hands on either shoulder. 
- Jimin catches himself on the window frame. The open space taunting and frightening. All at once, the image hits him; another well-placed shove- Jimin falling- cracking against the slate patio outside where you usually set up dinner, the ground hard and unforgiving. Bones breaking. 
- Jimin isn’t sure why he says it; “No wonder why you haven’t got adopted if this is how you act when someone disagrees with you.”
- Jimin’s never fallen from any height before. But he’s been tossed and pushed and shoved, and never learned how to fight back. He freezes now at the memory of it. He’s been shoved into concrete before, and he bets slate hurts just as much.
- “Don’t pretend like you haven’t had your eyes set on the big house since you first got here puppy, little thing like you probably just wants to be owned- how do you even have an ounce of self-“ 
- Jimin gets shoved again, and he barely manages to hold his ground. Taeyong grips his shirt in both his fists, lifting Jimin up so that he struggles to keep his feet on the ground. 
- From below, he hears a shriek, His name shouted from your mouth. You run as fast as you can, Yoongi stayed behind to help you. His face turned up imploring at Jimin. Jimin hears the thud of Namjoon’s feet on the wooden floor below. He and Taehyung, as they take the stairs two at a time. Jimin doesn’t know how they knew to come, or how suddenly everything’s escalated.
- The other hybrid steps forward, and there is nowhere left for him to go, Jimin grips the window frame, and tries not to let go.
- Namjoon’s words can barely be made out around the growl, suddenly in the doorway. Jimin keeps his eyes on the hybrid in front of him. Not at Namjoon’s face, screwed tight with anger. “Enough, step away from him.”
- Namjoon looks more threatening than Jimin’s ever seen him, teeth bared, ready to attack. His curved ears quivering as Namjoon seems to swell in the doorway, his eyes shiny and reflective in the half-light. An alpha ready to protect his own. The scars that crisscross his face a reminder of the lengths he’s willing to go to protect his family.
- A sheepish looking Taehyung toes the line behind him, “I’m sorry- I heard the beginning outside the door and went to get them” Jimin is at once thankful for Taehyung and a little angry- because really? He couldn’t be bothered to just intervene then? Taeyong seems to think for a moment before he lets Jimin go. Jimin sees Namjoon’s hands tighten into fists by his side. The threat of what he might have tried to do dissipating. You rush forward with Yoongi, pulling Jimin out of the doorway.
- More than one hybrid in the room jerks when you get too close to the window. They can’t help it- for many of them, you’re the only human they’ve had a positive relationship with. And the dog hybrids are nothing if not a loyal bunch. Which is probably why Taeyong shrinks back, nostrils flared- still angry and feeling threatened. like a cornered animal. 
- Jimin tries not to run back to Namjoon’s side- but it's hard, especially when he makes eye contact with Yoongi. Your chest heaving blinking away tears as You pull Jimin to you easily, a hand on his cheek. Eyes so worried, searching his face and his frame for even a hint of damage. The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance “I’m okay- it’s okay- I’m fine.”
- “It wasn’t my fault, Jimin started it” you look up, and Jimin can tell from the tilt of your eyes that you don’t believe them for a second, your voice is shaky when you speak, so quiet. and jimin wonders- how many other times you’d spoken up like this in your past against your ex-husband and gotten hurt for it. It takes no small amount of bravery for you to speak now and Jimin’s arms tighten protectively around you. 
- “This isn’t- this isn’t how you treat another person Taeyong even if he did start it- you don’t react with violence.” one of the other hybrids shakes his head at Taeyong- but he doesn't react well to your words. Bearing his teeth at you and it takes every ounce of self-control for your three hybrids not to jump in front of you at such an obvious display of aggression. 
- “He shoved me first” Taeyong lies, and Namjoon answers it with a growl. stepping up to go chest to chest with him in much the same way that Jimin had just minutes before. The other dog hybrid crumbles against the alphas stare. “Would you like to repeat that? or do you maybe want to tell the truth this time?”
- You pull Jimin behind you and Namjoon steps between you and the other hybrids, looming and large in the small space. “If I hear that you're causing any more trouble you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can say “it wasn’t my fault” Namjoon barks, turns, both you and he have a hand on Jimin’s trembling shoulders. When did they start shaking?
- A sudden hush has settled over the hybrids, everyone is here to witness it. And it doesn’t make sense until they hear a set of quiet footsteps at the door. “Is everything alright miss?” the police officer says in the doorway, suspiciously eyeing the hybrids. His hand hovering dangerously close to the gun in his holster. The fucking police- Jimin had almost forgotten they were here.
- You don’t look shaken, stepping back to be between him and your hybrids, and the police officers' shoulders relax. You’re so disarming- Jimin barely sees you shake even though he can smell the distress rolling off of you in waves. Turning your usual scent all muddy. Your smile is strained, “No officer- everyone’s just a little bit high strung right now I think. We’re fine.” 
- “Sorry for that distraction, we can continue up to the main house if you’d like. After you.” You set back off down the steps and Jimin knows what you’re doing- keeping the police officer away from them because you know how twitchy the cops make most of the hybrids. “No thank you- I dont think that will be necessary. As your k-9 unit specified earlier in his interview the crime scene is mostly contained in the driveway. I think we’ve seen enough.”
- Jimin can’t help but stumble to Namjoon’s side, pressed tight under the arm of his alpha. Namjoon’s disarmed by Jimin's sudden need for affection; for his alpha all around him. “We’ll talk about this later” Taehyung glowers at the other hybrids and they all fall silent. Namjoon’s ire- they might be a little more used to but Taehyung’s anger is used a little more sparingly. The four of them, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung the unlikely fourth turn to leave.
- You’re already in the lower level of the barn when Taeyong speaks, his voice low to keep it out of earshot from you. “Sure thing pet,” Taeyong says under his breath- though really what was he trying to do? Everyone here had above average hearing- so really, his whispered insults whereas good as speaking at normal volume.
- And to a hybrid- being called a pet is the ultimate insult.
- Namjoon freezes in the doorway, no matter that Jimin’s hand pulls at the arm of his long-sleeved shirt. A whine building for him to just leave it alone. Namjoon turns, jabbing his finger at Taeyong. “I want you gone before sundown tomorrow.” 
- The four of them head down the stairs, leaving the silent room. The ground floor of the largest barn the area is flush with activity. With hybrids going every which way you must have decided that it was okay for everyone to return to their days as normal. Someone calls Taehyung’s name, asking for his help with something before he’s even fully down the narrow steps, Taehyung sends Jimin a single discerning look before he leaves. Namjoon utters a soft thank you to him as he slips away.
- In the grass- you share one final word with the police officer, shaking his hand with one hand resting on your baby bump. Though Jimin can tell from the way you hold yourself it's the last thing you want to do. He nods at Namjoon once as they approach and heads off down the hill. You’re quiet for a moment, going to hold jimin’s hand while Namjoon and Yoongi mill. None of you are sure what to do next.
- “I’m assuming Taeyong won’t be a problem anymore?” Namjoon has the good sense to look a little abashed at that. “He said- there was- he’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.” Is all he says, and you nod, giving a sad look back to the barns. But you don’t counter what Namjoon’s said.
- And while Jimin knows there needs to be some sort of order here- it still seems a little extreme. Even if the threat of bodily harm was there- he didn’t actually do anything. It seems a little severe to throw them out for just a couple of words, and a shove. He tells Namjoon this much as they walk up the footpath to the main house.
- You whip your head around, looking stricken, and Jimin have to struggle not to flinch back, you look almost angry with yourself for the sudden movement. all of you are a little on edge. “He almost hurt you Jimin! he was about to-“ Yoongi fists a hand in the back of Jimin’s shirt, “if he’d hurt you I don’t know what I’d-“ you break off, and Jimin sees you sigh and the breath sounds all rickety like there's something else rattling around in your lungs. You shake your head and hold onto his hand tighter.
- Jimin sucks on his lower lip and keeps walking towards the main house after a moment. And he can’t help feeling like he was the one who kind of did start it. A hand on your arm to help you up the steps. You’re getting more and more pregnant every day, and your baby bump has become more of a mound than the small bulge you had when Jimin first came.
- Jimin just wants to make sure you don’t wobble or trip. Unable to shake the feeling that the reason why Namjoon had punished the others was because of how they’d treated Jimin- and not because of any rules.
- Jimin’s gotten to know you and Namjoon pretty well over the last few months, but the way Namjoon keeps his head down, playing with his hands, makes him look younger and more open than he’s ever been around Jimin. Namjoon and Jimin linger just inside your house. standing quietly- letting their tempers fade.  
- The cat hybrids have already started dinner, the clamor familiar and comforting. One of them hears you come in and calls your name; Yoongi is close behind, he doesn’t look at Jimin. And Jimin smells his scent- his fluffy marshmallow goodness twined with a hint of something burn and feels the guilt clinging to him like bad perfume. He’s about to head after him when Namjoon grabs his shoulder. “Should I- you’re going to stay up here right?”
- Jimin sucks on his lower lip. and even he has to admit that staying up here tonight is a more attractive offer than returning to the barns anytime soon. “Yes- if you want me too” Namjoon nods, looks shy, but Jimin can tell what he’s feeling through his scent. The worry makes the pine strong and musky and tempts Jimin to curl up in it. Namjoon couldn’t tolerate being separated from any of his pack right now; not with the danger of a killer on the loose. Namjoon tugs him in the direction of the stairs. “There’s something I want to show you then.”
- The last time he’d been up on the more private floor of your house he hadn’t really had any time to explore. Namjoon leads him to one of the unknown and previously unopened doors that line the long hallway between your master suite and the stairs, pointing out Yoongi’s room as they go. The room is small and more than a little dusty. But it’s the closest unoccupied room to the master suite and across the hall from Yoongi’s. “Oh” Jimin realizes as it clicks, “you meant stay- as in move in stay.”
- Namjoon has to kick away boxes of Christmas decorations to get to the queen covered with a white sheet that fluffs with dust when he pulls away. Jimin touches the edge softly. He’s never had a bed so big all to himself before- he doesn’t know how he’s going to handle so much vacant space next to him.
- There will be no soft sounds of sleep and rising chests when Jimin wakes in the middle of the night. Only the sounds of the house, and even though this means he’ll get to spend more time with you, Namjoon, and Yoongi, the room can’t help but feel lonely. Something in his chest reminds him that he’s not really that far, Yoongi’s room is across the hall, and yours just a few steps after that.
- Maybe he won’t feel so lonely after all.
- The windows are covered with thick drapes, kind of small in themselves. And it makes the room feel darker and cold. “We’ll move out the decorations to the attic tomorrow, are you gonna be okay with this for tonight? We can get you some fresh sheets and blankets.”
-  Jimin nods hands tugging back the curtains to let more light in. Namjoon reaches around him to crack it open when the window sticks. Even though this room doesn’t feel like his yet. Namjoon almost drops a box of decorations “you could also sleep in our room if you want?”
- Jimin can’t do much more than just blush and nod, stuttering out that he’ll decide later. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to be all snuggled close between you and Namjoon it’s just that- things are happening a little too fast. Jimin feels like he might need a night to just decompress.
- The body, the police, the fight, and Jimin almost falling through the window. For some reason, Jimin feels paralyzed in that doorway. On one hand, he’s happy that he has a room here now that he doesn’t have to go back to the bunk room for more than his clothes, and on the other hand he’s sure he doesn’t deserve it.
- Like Namjoon can sense he’s overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to feel, he pulls Jimin to follow him. Gentle orders that tell Jimin what to do with his body and give his mind a second to catch up. Namjoon retrieves fresh linens and a big fluffy blanket from the closet while Jimin hovers hugging a pillow to his chest. 
- The elder prattles along to Jimin about getting him some more things to fill the room like a dresser when Jimin notices it. A small narrow door that’s mostly glass down the hall from your master bedroom and the bathroom that Jimin assumes he’ll share with Yoongi.
- Unless Yoongi has a bathroom in his room. Jimin asks Namjoon- who tells Jimin that he does and Jimin pouts. He has to admit he wouldn’t mind Sharing a bathroom with Yoongi. Flashbacks of that night, of Yoongi’s skin, pressed close to his underneath the deluge of water- consume him for a moment at the thought of that. 
- Before he pads over to see the other room at the end of the hallway. It’s narrow, only the with of the couch at the end and twice as long, Jimin could probably touch both walls if he lied down on the floor Waist height windows ring the outside of the room and a few skylights cast square shadows on the floor, The roof slanted down at one edge.
- A single potted plant sits on the waist-high shelf- crusty and brown from no one watering it. He orients himself in the house to figure out what room is below him but the smells and sounds drifting up from the floor tells him he’s somewhere above the kitchens.
- He stands in the doorway. A thick layer of dust sits on everything. But the light is amazing. All golden in the afternoon haze though that might just be the walls. The light yellow paint is faded, cracked a bit by the doorway but it's nothing a fresh coat couldn’t fix.
- Jimin knows the second he sees it that he wants it.
- Namjoon finds him standing in the doorway. Already looking out the windows- he can see the gardens from here and the woods that stretch beyond. And the edge of a falling-down barn yet to be restored by you and Namjoon- and a tiny sliver of the river. “What- what is this?” Jimin’s voice is so hushed. So quiet, like he’s worried about disturbing the dust.
- Namjoon comes up close behind him, putting his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “It’s a sunroom.” Namjoon clarifies. In the afternoon light, Namjoon’s skin looks honeyed and golden, horizontal shafts of light stretching across his face. Namjoon pulls Jimin close, nose running along his hairline and near his ears, nuzzling into them. His back the perfect place for Jimin to rest his heavy shoulders. 
- “Is it okay if I- can I stay here and not the other room?” Namjoon’s smile is reassuring and gentle, “probably, but let's ask.” Of course, Namjoon would know Jimin needed explicit permission right now- needs the sureness of a yes or no from you.
- The sight that awaits Namjoon and Jimin in the living room is one that warms both of their hearts. You and Yoongi sitting side by side in front of the television. you’re listing into Yoongi sleepily head on his shoulder. Your eyes fluttering against your cheek adorably. Yoongi sends Namjoon a panicked look which means “please save me from her she’s being needy” but at least Yoongi isn’t shaking and going all panicky.
- With a word from Namjoon you wake, sitting up straight and yawning, taking in Jimin hovering on the steps, your smile sleepy and a little dopy. Your eyes still half-closed still looking soft and an inch from resting as you need.
- Namjoon’s hand rubs up and down your swollen exposed ankle. His voice honeyed like he doesn’t really want to wake you up. Hell Jimin would carry you up the stairs to let you rest in your own bed and not the couch even though it's barely 5 pm. It's been a long day for all of you. 
- “Hey, can Jimin take the sunroom instead of the other room?” Yoongi gives a little surprised noise, eyebrows lifting in question, you seem to share his confusion. Jimin realizes that you must have already talked about which room would be his, and whole new warmth floods him. “Are you sure? That room’s a little small.”
- “I’d like to stay in there if you’ll let me- I mean- I can go back to the barns too” maybe he’d go to the girl side this time- he’s sure they wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the male hybrids. Namjoon and Yoongi look upset that he’d even try to suggest that. “Take the sunroom Jiminie,” you say, Namjoon and Jimin watch as Yoongi’s hands shake when he reaches forward before he slowly draws his hands through your hair, and you arch into he touch. If you were a hybrid Jimin thinks you’d be purring.
- Namjoon does actually end up carrying you upstairs, despite your protests that you could do it yourself. Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Jimin finishes it for him saying, “we’ll make dinner, you should rest.” Namjoon pauses on the lower step with you in his arms, and Jimin feels something in him settle. There isn’t a little bit of you that doesn’t want him to stay here, the way you so easily give up space for Jimin to be accepted into your routine- your home.
- It’s good; it feels good to knock shoulders with Yoongi in the kitchen, the craziness of the day calmed as the cat hybrids bring the food down to the barns for everyone. 
- Taehyung stops by briefly to have a word with Namjoon- telling the elder that they have a rotating watch figured out for tonight to make sure nothing else happens. Taehyung empties out with the other cats, leaving just Jimin and Yoongi. It’s harder than it should be, but Yoongi instructs Jimin on how to do the chopping with a careful and slow demonstration while he starts on the stew.
- When Namjoon reappears a few minutes later he puts on the radio- switching it to something a little bit more his style, not kitschy pop or idealistic  questionable country music, though Jimin doesn’t like it at first listen, he hears Yoongi humming along and figures- it’s enough to have them enjoy it. Especially to see Namjoon try and fail to shake his ass. 
- The night gets even better when Jimin goes to get you from your bed, calling your name so you wake up with barely a huff as you blink at him. You look so soft Jimin can’t resist it, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your forehead. 
- You eat dinner on the porch, and the night gets better with every moment. every second Jimin realizes that he always should have been here. The love filling Jimin up just like the fresh bread and Yoongi’s stew, Namjoon and Jimin go inside halfway through the dinner to get blankets for you and Yoongi.
- Dinner reinvigorates you four, and though Jimin protests “I can just sleep in the other room tonight it’s really not a big deal” Namjoon and Yoongi shake their heads at him, though you're left out since you really can’t lift anything. 
- After dinner Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin pull down the attic stairs from the hallway, and go up to the third floor to find a bed that will fit in the sunroom. You shout and pull yoongi out of the way when Namjoon and Jimin lose their grip and the soft mattress clangs down the stairs, sliding with a soft thump. They’re more careful with the box spring.
- They shout and huff with joyful frustration when the couch gets stuck in the doorway of the sunroom. The kind of happiness that comes with a problem that you can fix- and like who you fix it with. And finally, when you fit the double bed into the space it just barely fits. You set the bed up with pillows and sheets asking Jimin again and again if he really doesn’t mind just the single bed while Namjoon and Yoongi put the green velvet couch outside in the hallway nook, just across from the bathroom.
- The first morning Jimin wakes in the sunroom is the most peaceful morning he’s ever gotten. The light comes in so early that it’s hard for him to sleep past sunrise. From all the way up here, he can see the way that the dew on the grass makes the whole field sway and sparkle like the ocean. He taps his toes against the wall as he sits up and looks out, and hears a knock at his door. A soft rap on the glass. 
- The sounds he hears below say he’s not the only one awake in the house. And still, the sight of you in your extra-large sleeping clothes and your robe makes him surprised. Though the tangled mess of your hair says you’re barely awake. Jimin slept so well that his ears hang nearly in front of his eyes, soft little floppy things that you push out of the way, Pushing back his wild hair as you do it. You have two cups of hot coffee in your hands. One, which you sit on the shelf that rings the room, and the other that you press into his hands, the warm ceramic a welcomed weight.
- Jimin helps you sit, a hand on your lower back to ease the ache. Without really thinking he guides you to sit back against his chest. It’s quiet and it’s lovely. And Jimin trails his nose down your shoulder and holds you loosely around your waist. “I forgot how nice this room is.” You say after your cup is halfway gone, Jimin’s cheek rested against your shoulder.
- “It’s so bright- I love it.” when Jimin closes his eyes he can still see the dark garage where he used to sleep- was it barely 4 months ago? Is he okay now? Is it okay to hope? Can he really count on things to be okay? To count that they won’t get bad again?
- With you in his arms, Jimin feels like it’s okay to hope for more good things.
- It feels like the right time to say it, the light spilling into the little yellow room, his tail thumping against the bed. The soft comforter that you picked out for him last night encircling you both like a halo. 
- The words are gentle, and they’re the truest Jimin’s ever said, “I love you” you smile over the edge of your coffee cup, lips soft and pink like two bright petals, happy little flowers like happy moments blooming with frequency. Every soft thing that Jimin’s ever wanted or dreamed of. Every way you could love a person- that's the way that Jimin loves you. And it feels like an unbreakable promise when you smile up at him. “I love you too Minnie.”
- And that’s how it happens. He says it again over breakfast and Namjoon barely lifts his eyebrows in wonder. But his tail betrays his attention, His tail kicking up a happy rhythm. Now that he’s said it- he feels like he doesn’t want to stop. 
- Yoongi pays the revelation a little more attention, making prolonged eye contact with jimin and stumbling around the kitchen half asleep like usual. But isn’t Yoongi the one who had taught Jimin how to love like this? That love is not really about saying it- but showing it. Yoongi- who he’s still never heard speak. and Somehow it doesn’t bother Jimin as much anymore.
- The next morning goes much like that- as does the next and the next. You spend the late nights all cuddled up together on the couches watching movies or sometimes you’ll retire to your small study room on the first floor to do some work- typing away on your computer. Calculating monthly costs, balancing your budget, submitting your paperwork on time to get funding from the state- the endless budgeting.
- Sometimes Yoongi helps, and you dictate numbers while he adds them up. Namjoon and Jimin sit on opposite ends of the couch, Jimin’s feet in Namjoon’s lap. And Jimin gets to watch the way Namjoon looks at you and Yoongi. “You really love them don’t you?” Jimin asks, worried about sounding jealous, but how could he really be jealous of that? Namjoon’s dimples are the most beautiful thing- Namjoon is the most beautiful thing when he’s happy. He nods shyly on the other edge of the couch. “Yes, so come here.”
- The aborted whine that tones out is enough to grab Yoongi’s attention when Namjoon clutches Jimin to his chest. The snake hybrid’s head appearing over the edge of the couch. The huffing sound that all of you associate with Yoongi’s laugh makes Jimin blush as Namjoon curls a strong arm around his waist. A deep rumbling in his chest similar to a purr as Jimin settles there. He can hear Namjoon’s heartbeat and ends up falling asleep to it.  
- Other evenings you’ll make smoothies with them or root beer floats, teasing Yoongi for the foam on his upper lip. Jimin finds himself sinking into this easy happiness. Now when he wakes up in the morning. He doesn’t have the ire of the others to contend with. Though he makes sure to keep up his friendships. 
- he follows Taehyung around more often now that he sees the four of you every waking moment. Taehyung and Jimin spend a few days together helping Seokjin and Hoseok clean out one of the unused barns together.
- He comes upon the two of them; that is Hoseok and Seokjin, sitting in the grass one day. The older hybrids hand laced in Hoseok’s curly hair. Taehyung murmurs to Jimin that they should just make it official already.
- He’d caught Hoseok sneaking out of the barns to head to Seokjin’s room more than once when he still lived in with the others. Since Seokjin is the only hybrid besides your little group that doesn’t stay in one of the main barns. And there were only so many places that Hoseok could be trying to go at that hour.
- They do make it official - though it takes a few days.
- It was early morning- just after breakfast and the three of you’d been buzzing with happy energy, Namjoon already half of the way out the door. Almost crashing into them where they’d waited unsure on your porch. “oh! Jin hyung! Hobi hyung!”
- Your morning plans for the usual gardening had been put on pause, Seokjin and Hoseok sitting hand in hand at the prep table while your hybrids try not to listen in. Namjoon doesn’t even bother - just stands behind you and rubs your shoulders while you listen. Their hands bound over the top of the table.
- “We’d do all of the work ourselves, and you know I wouldn’t ask you for any money for it- we want to do it on our own” Jin smiles, and you’ve never seen such a gently happy expression on his face. Next to him- the otter sits closer. Looking up at Jin like there isn’t anything more precious than he could hold in his hands. And while their love hadn’t completely escaped your notice- this is still a surprise.
- Seokjin makes a fair amount of money selling his yarns and other knitted goods from the alpacas and the sheep. You’d always been firm that he should keep the money he makes from it for himself and not give it to you to put into the farm. The same way you let the bear hybrids keep the money they make from harvesting the honey. You don’t own them- they’re their own people.
- One of the first things that Seokjin had bought with his money was a cellphone, and he and Hoseok excitedly show you ideas for tiny homes on Pinterest, boards of colorful little new England style cabins, loft beds, and micro-fridges. “We already have one in mind- you know the little cabin by the river?”
- Namjoon pipes up “you mean the old chicken coop? We can build you something nicer- the roof of that one is shot though- you’ll need an extra hand,” you look at their plans, careful doodles, and color swatches, nodding. “we’ll help you, of course, we’ll help you both.”
- And that’s how Seokjin and Hoseok had started work on their home. A separate place away from the rest of the farm for just the two of them to get some privacy. Though it's still on your property; neither of them has any sort of desire to ever leave the farm or each other now that they’ve found their mate.
- The house isn’t more than 200 square feet. And the roof does need a fair bit of work. But it’s not just a chicken coop like Namjoon had said, it’s got nice bones and a good foundation. It’s close enough to the animal barns where Seokjin will still be able to check on the animals every morning, but closer to the river.
- You don’t realize the significance of this until you’re helping them one day, Namjoon, Yoongi making quick work of some loose floorboards and the one wall that needs to be replaced. While Jimin and hoseok watch on- deemed a little too clumsy to help with some of the work. They look for wood-burning stoves on craigslist and other things that they’ll need to make the house complete. 
- Seokjin takes a moment, coming to your side to get some of your offered lemonade, his hair tied back with a bandana. Sipping at it as he looks at Hoseok and Jimin. their feet dangling over the edge of the streambed. “He finds it calming- he can’t sleep without the ocean. That’s how I first noticed him- I caught him sneaking out one night just to listen to the running water.” Seokjin had confessed to you, watching Jimin and hoseok giggle at paint names as they flip through a color swatch book. A far cry away from how they’d once been. 
- This little cabin is certainly close enough, a mere ten feet from the shore of the stream. And with all the windows open you can hear the babbling brook and the sound of the birds in the forest. Before they retire to Seokjin’s room above the stables. Both Hoseok and Seokjin stand in the cabin, taking their shoes off to feel the floor below them and think- this is it- this is our home. Holding each other close while they listen. Even if it will take another few months to get it truly in livable condition- to set the walls with insulation and electricity. This will be their home.
- But first, they cleaned it out. The whole bottom floor filled with dusty jam jars and weird bottles that Seokjin thinks must have been for moonshine. The next day- Jimin finds a few of the glass bottles have made the way into his new room. As Namjoon struggles to put together his new dresser, and Yoongi takes It over after Namjoon lets out his 5th frustrated sigh. They’re cleaned and polished, a small little rainbow of glass, filled with water and flowers that you pick with Jimin. 
- Every morning you bring him coffee in his room. And it slowly progresses from there, sometimes you just leave it and let him sleep. Other mornings. Jimin gets to wake up with you in his arms. Watching him or cuddling him close. He Wakes to a press of lips against his forehead and your hands in his hair. 
- His body always knows before he wakes. He’ll wake to find himself nuzzled close, or pulling you closer with greedy hands. He feels greedy with you now that he can have you every morning, though Namjoon gets the evenings. 
- And when he falls asleep at night his sheets smell like you, like peaches and cream. And then one morning he wakes pressed chest to chest with you. Your baby bump taking up significant space on Jimin’s tiny bed. And without thinking, He tilts his face forward. Kissing you softly and simply. Pulling away, whispering good morning. The pink in your cheeks says you’re shocked, but you pick up like it’s nothing The same way you took his confession.
- Kissing you is nothing like kissing Yoongi- at least not at first. It starts slow- just the simple press of softness against softness, lip to lip, and breath to breath. Until Jimin gets the hot feeling in his mouth and both of you open your lips and start to get a little lost in each other.
- The kind of kiss that makes Jimin want to reach out and hold onto you and never ever let you leave this bed. The kind of kiss that takes both of you apart gently and slowly and so carefully. Has him growing hard in his pants more than once. But you’re both shy- both so scared of pushing this any farther before the timing is right.
- Sometimes, Jimin will wake to you in his bed and Namjoon smiling softly at both of you from the door. “You know- you could always just sleep in our bed.” and Jimin knows that Namjoon might be just the tiniest bit jealous. Jimin has been stealing you away in the mornings after all- and it must be hard for him not to snuggle his mate every goddamn day especially with how soft and needy you smell. It’s so hard to leave the bed some days.
- There are more kisses after that before you go up to bed at night. Yoongi and Namjoon stretched out on the couch, Namjoon prattling on about how inaccurate a movie is while Yoongi indulges him and nods along. You kiss Jimin on the steps, winding your arms around his neck so sweetly, Yoongi wolf whistles and Namjoon chortles, “get a room!”
- But when Jimin looks over Namjoon just winks at him, and keeps talking. Like it’s nothing to kiss you so sweetly and normal to do it in front of them. There are no secrets between the four of you. Maybe there are things that are left unsaid and uncommunicated- but there are no secrets. 
- And that’s how Jimin first starts to fall into you. Easy and simple, like kisses and coffee in the morning. And Jimin loves everyone. Loves you so much sometimes it feels like his heart is going to break with it all.
- Jimin wishes his wanting stopped with the kisses, but it doesn’t, if anything it only grows. An ache in his jaw that wants to bite and consume like that moment with the kisses and Yoongi- he wants to kiss you deeper and deeper but it never ends up going that way. Not even when your bare thighs brush him in the morning and Jimin can tell you’re only wearing underwear underneath the shirt that smells so much like Namjoon.
- Jimin smells you on Namjoon, smells Namjoon on you, and wants and wants and wants. It’s worse on the mornings that you’re a little late coming to Jimin’s bed, and on the ones where you come in smelling undeniably like Yoongi too. And Jimin can’t fathom what it means and isn’t brave enough to ask.
- He asks Taehyung what it could mean- confessing it all in a rush one afternoon while they process some of the honey. Heating up the wax in the kitchen. Tae just laughs at him. “Are you sure they’re not all together? I mean- they are your pack Jiminie and he’s lived there longer than you have.” Yoongi has lived in your home longer. And it stands to reason if you and Namjoon have invited Jimin to your bed, that you might have invited Yoongi too.
- But Jimin doesn’t know for sure until one morning he wakes restless, his bed vacant. He can hear soft steps in your room. But when he peers down the hall, he’s shocked to find Yoongi softly closing the door behind him. His hair looks a little ruffled, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he slinks off to his own bedroom.
- You’re not the only one bed-hopping. And Jimin thinks about what it might mean. Yoongi hasn’t come to Jimin’s room. And he thinks back to the way Yoongi kissed him like it was the best and the worst, the sweetest but most forbidden thing. Maybe he’s just too nervous.
- Yoongi stays up late with Jimin, and they can both hear and smell the arousal that shoots down the stairs from both of you. Jimin has smelt it more than once by now, on you or on the air that bacons them- as members of the same pack to the same place. Jimin wonders how Yoongi handles it. Because it has Jimin growing half hard in his pajama pants, shifting on the couch needy. Yoongi’s too from the looks of it- but the snake never makes a move. Your moans echo from upstairs, their sensitive hybrid ears can hear every word that you share. And Jimin can almost taste you on the air.
- Namjoon’s gentle teasing growl is faint as is his words, “do you want them to hear you, my love? is that why you’re being so loud?- or is this” Namjoon pauses, and a wet sound fills the silence, “just too much for you?” 
- At night, when you’re not there, Jimin bites the pillow and lets his own hands wander. Feels guilty and not guilty at all when you end up in bed with him the next morning, and he licks at the hickeys on your neck left there by Namjoon’s mouth, tasting his alpha on your skin and on your lips. 
- Jimin goes to bed one evening alone, and lies listless for a moment before he realizes how much he wants to fall asleep next to you too- Namjoon too. How many times had Namjoon invited Jimin to stay in your room? How many times had he woken up to you by now? He knows the other room isn’t off limits and right now. His body shivers with need, for touches and touches, any that you’d give him. He tells himself he’s just looking for a goodnight kiss as he gets up and walks to your door, the house quiet so late in the evening.
- It shouldn’t feel so tremulous when Jimin walks to your room, to see the warm yellow light leaking through the door. Already cracked and open a few inches letting the noise of you and Namjoon spill out. The giggles he can hear, your voice, sounding the way you do when you smile. And then, a bitten-off moan.
- Jimin can’t stop himself from looking through the crack in the door- even though he knows it’s a private moment, that he really shouldn’t. You’re sitting in-between Namjoon’s legs on the edge of the bed. Jimin’s alphas mouth is firmly attached to your neck, licking and biting and sucking in a way that has Jimin riveted.
- But what really grabs his better judgment by the balls is the way that he can see the silhouette of your body through the large white shirt of Namjoon’s. The shirt so thin and well worn that jimin can see the shadow of your nipples and the hard outline that Namjoon’s hands smooth over, teasing them to a stiff peak. it has Jimin’s mouth-watering. Namjoon’s deep voice crooning as his hands pull at the hem over your baby bump, “let me see you, darling.”
- You’d complained to Jimin the other day that this far into your pregnancy none of your clothes were fitting comfortably anymore, and he can see the supple swell of your stomach and the generous curves of your body. Jimin can’t help but drink in, and stare at hungrily, swallowing thickly. A low whine of want building in his throat.
- He knows it’s wrong to be jealous, but he can’t help it. The feeling growing in his gut as he watches Namjoon pull you back to bed despite your protests. Namjoon looks deliciously good too; miles of his golden skin on display, his rippling thigh muscles exposed. Hair sleep or sex ruffled (Jimin can’t tell the difference)
- “Love I have to pee” you whine, Namjoon’s arms still ensnare your waist and he answers only with a playful growl as he hides his head in your shoulder. His hands roaming those curves like Jimin dreams of doing, Namjoon’s tail thudding against the plush comforter.
- You sigh, your head tilted up, one of your arms back behind you to tug at Namjoon’s hair, swollen pink lips parting in a sigh. He shouldn’t be watching this- this isn’t meant for him to see, this is intimate. He backs up and immediately hits a warm wide chest. “Yoongi!” Jimin squeaks, conscious enough to be quiet, his cheeks flaming as he’s caught.
- The snake hybrid raises an eyebrow in question. Yoongi looks ruffled, his hair messy from sleep. And it seems Jimin isn’t the only one who had plans on sneaking into your room so late at night. Yoongi’s cheeks are pink in the half-light.
- Yoongi leans in, nose so close to Jimin’s throat- where his scent is the strongest and Jimin almost flinches when he realizes how strung out and aroused he smells. Yoongi’s rippling growl makes Jimin’s legs week. 
- You’ve suddenly fallen silent in the other room; exchanging soft words that Jimin can’t hear. “I was just going to…” Jimin searches for a reason, to remember why he was here in the first place. His cheeks absolutely flaming, but before he can find a good reason to why he’s listening in and being quite the voyeur Namjoon speaks up from inside your bedroom. 
- “Jimin, Yoongi” not a question, but a command. Yoongi reaches around Jimin to push the door fully open so that both of you can see the two of them. “You can come in,” you say.
- Jimin has never been redder than he has been right now. Seeing you and Namjoon in your bed, obviously, about to- Jimin gulps audibly. “You don’t have to watch from the hallway” Namjoon teases. “You can watch from in here” Jimin is actually going to pass out, and you sense this, smacking Namjoon lightly on the arm. “Don’t tease him Joonie.”
- “Is it really okay if I-“ Jimin feels tongue-tied, his mind hazy with the smell of both of you, the pheromones that his sensitive nose can pick up on the smell of your slick, and Jimin’s mouth is suddenly so so wet. “I don’t want-“ Jimin breaks off; trying to keep his gaze averted, but can’t resist peeking. “I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”
- Jimin sees out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon’s hands rubbing up and down your waist, and he wants to look, wants to see- but can’t. Keeps his eyes averted. “You don’t Jiminie- I” you break off when Namjoon’s hand travels further south. Your other puppy has absolutely no problem trying to distract you. Jimin can’t see exactly what Namjoon’s hands are doing but your chest jumps. And he realizes he’s staring again. 
-“If you’re going to look- you might as well help me take care of her too” Jimin has never heard Namjoon’s voice sound so guttural, and a look at Yoongi reveals his pink cheeks too. “unless you just want to watch like Yoongi does, that's fine too” 
- Jimin sends yoongi an accusatory glance, and the snake hybrid just shrugs at him. leveling him with a dedicatory look. well, Minnie- which are you going to choose?
- “I want- I want” jimin cant get the words out. He knows he doesn't want to leave. but is it really okay if he- is he really allowed to touch you? to make you smell like him the way that Namjoon does? Claiming you in that way. “jiminie- you can- I want you too-” your words are so quiet, face so warm. And it makes Jimin whine- looking to Namjoon for guidance. Imploring him to make the choice- to take the hint because Jimin just needs a little push. And from the looks of it so do you. 
- “You’re both obviously too shy to get it done- so let me take the reigns okay?” Namjoon counters to the silence. Yoongi is still standing behind Jimin, a step closer than should be necessary, and you give them both a shy, wide-eyed look. Like you’re checking to see that this wants it too. Jimin nods, short, jerky, unable to tear his eyes away from your face to see Namjoon’s expression until the elder shifts.
- Yoongi crosses to the other side of the room where a green velvet chair sits, stretching out and making himself comfortable. Whereas Jimin and Namjoon are always a little too soft looking to be threatening. Yoongi eyes the three of you like he’s some sort of predator. Tongue flicking out to lick at his lip. Like he can taste what Jimin can smell- the four of you- the smells of your arousals mixing together. Something satisfying and musky and undeniably pack that makes Yoongi's every instinct sing.
- Jimin has always appreciated Namjoon’s body, the strength there. In many ways he’s the stereotypical alpha; the strength in his arms and in his chest, his collarbones strong and chiseled, but he’s anything but cocky. There is someone so genuine about how unconcerned Namjoon is with his own body, and jimin can’t help but find his confidence attractive. 
- Namjoon lounges back against his hands, And the way he watches Jimin watch both of you lets Jimin know that it’s okay to look his fill. Yoongi too, the low rippling growl he lets out fills the room, makes you feel hot all over as his eyes roam you, Namjoon, and Jimin- the pretty picture you both paint.
- You sit between Namjoon’s legs, his hands on either side of your inner thigh parting your legs gently to show your wetness to Jimin. You make an aborted noise as you realize what he’s doing. All of you swollen and bear for him and nothing to cover you but Namjoon’s shirt and that just barely hiding the tone of your skin behind the creamy white fabric. You’re not wearing any underwear.
- Your pink core trembles a little, your hand gripping Namjoon’s forearm as he grins, drunk on the feel of you in his hands as he squeezed your thighs. Namjoon goes a step further Reaching down to glide a thumb across your wetness. Making you jerk in his hold as he hits the little sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your cunt, glistening wet and ready. 
- “Can you believe it?” he says, his voice a blown-out growl. “So full and still ready for us?” beside Jimin, Yoongi’s pupils are blown, his body jerking as he shifts in his chair, hips on the edge.
- You’re wet and dripping. Your face is hot as you look at him, standing there in the middle of the room, fully clothed while you and Namjoon are intimately bare. Jimin can’t tear his eyes away from you. You smell so ripe and for the taking.
- “You can come closer- you can touch Minnie, it’s okay,” Namjoon says it that way, but his eyes are on Yoongi, gliding down his hips to the bulge in his pants. Namjoon knows he won’t come closer- even if he really wants yoongi too. And Jimin sees that pain him- just for a moment before he puts his chin out in his direction. It’s okay- anything that Yoongi wants, whatever level he feels he can partake in this- it’s okay. Jimin wonders how Yoongi can handle it and hold himself back; how he can handle the dizzying rush of pheromones and not come closer.
- Yoongi settles, his eyes hazy and his legs spread to make room for his hands that touch with purpose. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- at him, his hands slowly smoothing up and over the bulge in his pants or at you. The way you drink in every line of Yoongi, stretched out in his tight pants. A simple hand at your throat, Namjoon rolling his fingers down from your chin to your collarbones. “Let's put on a show for him yeah? Is that what you want Yoongi?”
- Yoongi’s tongue is pink as it swipes across his lips, he nods. In a moment, Jimin feels a little unsure, but that instantly dissipates as Namjoon gestures for him to come forward.
- He’s never been touched or touched another in this way- not with love anyway. All of the small touches you’ve given him, hands on your shoulders the small of your back, felt nothing like this. His fingers reaching out, rounding on the edge of your knee experimentally. Waiting to see your reaction to make sure what he’s doing is okay. Namjoon’s tail starts up it’s wagging behind you. his hands shake with too warm palm smoothing over skin he’s never seen let alone been allowed to touch. He looks at you and feels positively ravenous, licking his lips.
- Namjoon trails a kiss down your neck and Jimin can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to sink into the skin there too. In a moment- he’s not sure if he’d rather be you being bitten or be Namjoon biting you on the neck. You probably don’t get the significance of it quite yet but Jimin- Jimin wants to be on the receiving end of that mark. To bear the mark of an alpha means to be under their protection.
- He wants all of it- all of your sweet looking soft and supple swells. Your body that’s accommodated the life within you so well and deserves a little appreciation. Anything, everything, Jimin and Namjoon will gladly provide. And Yoongi will be content to look. Not ready quite yet to be apart of this the way Jimin is. But it makes you feel hot all over, his piercing eyes on every movement. Barely even blinking.
- Jimin doesn’t know how to be the same sultry tempter that Namjoon is- but at the very least he can follow his lead. Jimin hasn’t had many sultry kisses- the ones you’d shared in your bedroom done with less intent, but he hopes that these can be just as satisfying. He leans in close to you, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to steady himself as he leans down. 
- The kiss is a gentle thing that Jimin knows won’t hurt. You’d never hurt him- because you’re like him. His softness and sweetness is just like yours. Both shy and honest- the genuine passion that overflows too easy. Like a hurricane filling a teacup.
- You know to go slow, and Jimin lets Namjoon- his alpha, (a whole rush goes down his spine at the idea of it) take the reigns. Feeling a comforting protective feeling wash over him as your lips play together. You suck on one of his lower lips, plush and soft between yours, and hasten a soft bite that has Jimin gasping, jerking forward to rest both hands of his on your upper thighs. Namjoon lets them go- lets you settle in between both of them.
 - He pulls away with a start. “I want both of you- please just- please- let me” you’re already pulling at the edge of his shirt. You’d seen his softness here and there too, but now, having him underneath the palm of your hands feels even better. Jimin has gained weight since he got to the farm yes- but he’s also put on more muscle than anything else, enough protein and hard work has left him soft but with clean edges, lines on his hips that point invitingly south. Dimples that you sink your fingers into.
- You hover there, skimming your hands along them, Namjoon reaching out from behind you to press a flat hand to Jimin’s pelvis, his flannel pajama pants still on, but still, even you can feel the way his abdominal muscles clench at the slightest touch. Even as you tug, give a pleading little whine, Jimin is so so weak to all of you. Jimin takes off his pants so quickly that he almost trips and falls into you, and a quiet chuckles and quick look says that Namjoon is equally as endeared by Jimin’s eagerness as you are. Even Yoongi is grinning.
- Yoongi makes a noise too and all of you look over, he’s got his pants pulled down his hips too, hands slowly teasing at the head of his cock hidden by his boxers. A wet spot there that makes jimin lick his lips. One-day Jimin will earn Yoongi’s trust enough to get his mouth on that length. Yoongi juts his chin out- an invitation to continue.
- Jimin wonders how often you’ve done this before with Yoongi- if this is only the second or third time. The question hovers on the tip of his tongue, struck out of his mind when you put your hands on him and touch him properly. Behind you Namjoon shifts, finally showing that he’s bare too- not even wearing underwear.
- A first look says yes, Namjoon is a little longer than Jimin is. But he’s far thicker than Namjoon and that small blessing in itself has a whole new kind of heat thinning in his gut. Especially when Namjoon stands and measures, going hip to hip with Jimin so that the head of his cock touches Jimin’s stomach. The older hybrid reaching out to skim his large hand over his head. Jimin’s already wet and sensitive gasping at how Namjoon’s hands- so big, fail to cover all of him.
- “I really shouldn’t call you puppy” he hastens with a chuckle, tugging at jimin’s erection, and Jimin can’t help but whine and pant. Namjoon’s mouth skims down and over Jimin’s shoulder, the contact lighting sparks under his skin with how sensitive he feels, and yet- it's still not where he wants it, Jimin feels vacant his mouth unclaimed until you stand too.
- This time you tug Jimin down with a hand in his hair, running your fingers over his ears the same moment that Namjoon bites down on his neck and pulls, teasing over the head of his cock. and it’s too much- too much so soon- making Jimin go soft and pliant as Namjoon sucks jimin’s skin between his teeth. Jimin doesn't know why the edge of a high rises so quickly only that it does and leaves his knees weak- almost giving out at the weight of all the pleasure. 
- To Jimin’s credit- he only cums a little- maybe not a full orgasm from just that. The shame and humiliation of Cumming so early makes him want to hide his face in you and hide he does. Especially when Namjoon lifts his hand up to look at Jimin’s release, chuckles, and licks it.
- He collapses into your front, breathing heavily already. The waves of your sweet arousal washing over him, his nose feels so sensitive he wants to bury it in your heat and breathe in deep, his whole body feels sensitive as Namjoon- now behind Jimin, smoothed his hands up and down his sides, somehow knowing he was a little too overwhelmed by so much so quick.
- He hopes that’s not weird- he has a feeling he’s just a little too touch starved not to get wound up. He doesn’t want this to be over that fast, wants to savor every moment. “I’m sorry,” he squeaks out, but you and Namjoon are quick to soothe him.
- “It’s nothing to be ashamed about Minnie baby, you’re just a little sensitive” Jimin loves that- that nickname falling from your mouth as your touches get slower. more sensual and loving so they don’t overwhelm him so fast. He can tell you and Namjoon and maybe Yoongi are sharing a glance, communicating silently about Jimin- but it doesn’t make him feel annoyed. It just makes him feel cared for. 
- Jimin knows he could go again, isn’t finished, he’s still rock hard, cock bobbing and twitching against his stomach. He just needs a moment to calm down. 
- You guide him to sit back up against the bed and he lies, half in your lap and half to the side. Shifting closer to you with his nose pressed to your neck, licking and sucking to his heart's content. Leaving his bruises right next to Namjoon’s. 
- You’re used to the way that Namjoon gets after an orgasm, his more animal instincts closer to the surface. Sometimes he even fails to speak with words, instead favoring whines and growls. It doesn't surprise you at all that Jimin would fall into a similar headspace the second he got overwhelmed. He laps at your skin, tail thumping as his ears twitch. His nose drawing small circles. The instincts in him pulling him lower as Namjoon rubs up and down his back soothingly.
- Jimin doesn’t realize where he’s ended up until your soft laugh and Namjoon’s chuckle join in tandem. “I take it back- you’re a puppy.” Jimin goes absolutely bright red as he opens his eyes and realizes that he’s been nosing at your breasts, the origin for your milky sweet scent.
- “Can I- have a taste?” he asks. And you turn hot for a whole different reason. you push him off a little, and Jimin wants to whine before he realizes that you’re finally taking off your shirt. and /oh/ you’re so soft looking. Your chest ample and swollen- you look absolutely perfect.
- “Sure but- uhm- I’m- just don’t be surprised if I-” you’re stuttering and shy and Namjoon just leans over, pulling lightly at your sensitive nipples so that Jimin can see for himself. He really is good at making sure you guys don’t get too shy to continue, he’s a good alpha.
- At the sight of a small bead of milk tugged forward by Namjoon’s hand Jimin growls, He tugs a little more and a single droplet travels down your sternum. You exhale as you feel the full heavy feeling that your breasts have taken on these past few weeks starts to ease a little.
- Jimin notices your discomfort the way you shift and doesn’t think- his instincts taking over before he leans forward and hastens a lick. taking the droplet from your skin into his mouth and licking up- so that he doesn't waste a drop. his plush lips melt around your nipple and he closes his eyes- savoring it. It only takes a small suck for your milk to really come in, and you shift instantly under Jimin's hands, throwing your head back with a sigh as the ache eases. Jimin growls and pulls you forward by a hand underneath your back, jostling you in his eagerness.
- You taste so sweet, the fatty liquid sliding down his throat as he suckles eagerly. Namjoon buries his fingers into your hair, pulling you up to kiss him but Jimin isn’t paying attention- can’t concentrate on anything other than the smooth taste of you sliding over his tongue as he sucks and sucks and sucks. the taste of you- the cream to your peaches and cream scent sliding like ambrosia over his tongue. 
- Jimin may not be talkative- brought down to his lower basic instincts- but he does make noise. His tail wagging behind him Hitting Namjoon’s, a whine mixing with a growl. Eyes rolling back into his head- he can’t help it you just taste so fucking good. 
- You can’t concentrate on Namjoon’s kiss either; your mouth open and a little sloppy, Namjoon levels you with a hot look. “What do you say lovely? Does she taste as good as she smells?” Jimin is so drunk on you that he barely even hears Namjoon. His teeth nip a little, you hissing a little.
- Namjoon tugs on Jimin’s hair and the other hybrid growls. It’s a Feral and angry sound- anything that would take him away from your sweet taste would have jimin angry. It’s so unexpected- that he would be so possessive- that Namjoon actually laughs. 
- You do too, though it’s quickly interrupted by a moan when Jimin pauses his sucking to lave a lick against your nipple. Namjoon holds him too far away for him to properly suck. “Gentle puppy” Jimin’s hands grip underneath your breasts, possessively clinging to you. whining at Namjoon. begging his alpha to let him go back. Namjoon lets Jimin tug his own hair before he guides his head back to you. 
- Namjoon keeps your eye contact until the second he lowers to suck too. Having both of them at the same time overwhelms you. Especially when you look past their heads and see Yoongi licking his lips too. Stroking his red cock slowly and carefully. The head is already red, and you can tell from the way he pulls off that he’d edging himself. Hips shaking every time he senses his touches. And you wonder if he wants to cum with you. His throat bobbing every time his tongue darts out.
- Having both their mouths on you makes you keen. And when Namjoon guides Jimin’s hand to your cunt you lose it- moaning, panting their names and gripping at their heads, pulling their hair. Jimin’s hands are sloppy as they grip and touch. Hungrily exploring your thighs. Namjoon’s a little more guided, paying special attention to your entrance. When he realizes Jimin’s gotten distracted feeling up your thighs and ass he guides Jimin so finger you, smooth fingertips rubbing at your walls in time with his sucks, while Namjoon rubs smooth circles against your clit.
 - You time the rolls of your hips with Yoongi’s as he shallowly fucks his hand.
- You cum like that, both their hands on you, and Yoongi’s growl, Namjoon’s head snap up. “You can cum Yoongi” Namjoon commands, with a fucked out chuckle. Your milk caught in one of his dimples. Yoongi’s hands are tight around the knot at the base of his cock, cum dripping down around his wrist, his head thrown back. Lazily spread out, his limbs turned to jelly.
- To Yoongi- it doesn't feel awkward to have cum so soon. If anything the sheer intimacy of it all- knowing that he can be vulnerable and fucked out in front of both of you- makes him feel even hazier. And just because he’s cum- doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy the sight of you three all tangled together.
- Jimin’s hardness pokes at your thigh as he straddles it. Rocking against you in time with his sucks. hands returning to their appreciation of your thighs once you’ve cum, head a little clearer. Namjoon is equally as hard and waiting. Namjoon groans as one of your hands finds his cock. 
- You’re used to the way he likes it by now, concentrating your attention on his head. Your other less dominant hand still makes Jimin jerk. Fucking into the tight circle of your hand that can’t fit around the entirety of his cock but is more than enough to tease his head until he’s throbbing.
- Jimin gives one last bite as your milk peters off; no more left and your other breast rightfully as drained, pulling away and licking at his lips. He’s so high on the taste of you, the smell of you, all of you that he barely realizes he’s grinding against your thigh or into your hand. Namjoon stills your hand against him when he gets close. Your thighs shake as Namjoon guides both of you to sit back; pressing a kiss to your forehead, Jimin’s, and then your tummy.
- “Why don’t you watch and see how it’s done puppy” Jimin gets off, sitting on his knees to the side and resists the urge to touch. Namjoon gives him a look and you look up from where you lie against the bed, grinning at him. but he’s obedient, doesn't touch, and just watches to learn. 
- “Would you cum again if I called you good b-” Jimin flushes, scrambling to get a hand over your mouth and stop you from finishing that sentence as his cock twitches and dribbles pre-cum onto the blanket. Face flaming as you laugh against his palm. “Yes- so please don’t I just want to-” Jimin whines. the humiliation making him hornier somehow. Yoongi’s rueful grin and Namjoon's expectant expression that says Jimin is just the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
- It’s somewhat of an honesty thing too- because you know Jimin- you know him so well enough to tease him and have it not be awkward but arousing- knowing just the right words to say to get him riled up. To prove to you that he can be good- can learn how to fuck you well without cumming (again) “why don’t you help me hold her Minnie.”  
- Namjoon’s smirk is happy and a little fucked out as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed by your ankles, your laughter turning into a giggle. Knowing how Namjoon loves to man handle you. And you’d be lying if his strength- the fact that he can still lift you without issue even this far into your pregnancy wasn’t a little bit of a turn on. 
- Namjoon gently manhandles you into the position he wants, you stretched out against the sheets, your nipples all puffy and pink from the way Namjoon and jimin mercilessly handled you earlier. A bruise forming where Jimin was a little rough, half-circles from his mouth. 
- Namjoon guides you to hold your hands above your head, guiding your wrists into Jimin’s to hold you there, his hands lacing with yours, bending down to kiss you. You gasp into Jimin’s mouth at the first push of Namjoon into your dripping cunt. The push and pull of his hips. It’s as erotic as it is sweet, Jimin presses his hips to the bed to relieve some of the aches but does not rut forward. And a look from Namjoon tells him to be careful- he’ll allow that- but the next time Jimin cums Namjoon wants it to be by his command.
- “You see Minnie- she’s not the biggest fan of a rough fuck- we’ve got to be gentle with her see, but as long as you make them deep and long she likes it” Namjoon shows Jimin and below Them, you moan. Lacing your fingers with Jimin's. 
- There is a certain unspoken dominance between Namjoon and the other hybrids. You too- though that has less to do with scent and the instinctual pull that you feel to be good for him. Jimin can’t get a good handle on why exactly he wants to do everything the elder says only that the idea of Namjoon being upset with him right now sends a jolt of fear all the way to the end of his tail.
- When Namjoon cums it’s with a low groan, and you squirting weakly around his cock. Your thighs are shaking and Namjoon leans close to kiss you through you high, then leans up to kiss Jimin too in reward for being patient. 
- You’re panting, body humming with pleasure as you feel namjoon’s knot press just outside your entrance, bulging so much that his rocking rubs against your clit. Namjoon is careful to fist his knot in his hand, meant to lock him and his partner in place to ensure a pregnancy would take place. If you were a hybrid you would be keening for his knot, probably crying for it. But as it is you’re a little glad he didn’t decide to stretch you out on it today. 
- You’re sure that the next time you cum your eyes are going to roll back. And you might pass out. It’s happened before. The first night you and Namjoon ever let Yoongi watch you. Namjoon had so thoroughly put you through your paces that you’d collapsed, and come to with two very panicked hybrids standing over you.
- Especially because it would have taken several long minutes to go down and Jimin is hard and aching for you. Namjoon is a good and patient alpha; he’ll let Jimin knot you tonight. Namjoon gives his knot one final squeeze before he gestures for Jimin. He lets go of your hands unwillingly, joining Namjoon at the edge of the bed.
- Namjoon pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, the movement so sudden that it makes you giggle. You’re a little fucked out, but it only makes your hybrids endeared. You close your eyes as Namjoon manhandles you into place, sighing out a “fuck” as he sees you below him. god- Namjoon loves you so much and you can feel it in every touch. 
- He hitches your legs up and asks you to hold them, hands gripping underneath your knees. Keeping you bare for all of them. Jimin’s mouth waters when he sees your wet and messy cunt, a little bit of Namjoon’s cum dripping out of your entrance.
- Fuck just getting his mouth on Yoongi; Jimin wants to get his mouth on all of you. Huh- maybe he has some sort of oral fixation. Jimin is so caught up in imagining it he barely processes Namjoon stepping away, tugging jimin in close and positioning himself behind the other dog hybrid, Namjoon’s knot and wet cock presses up against Jimin’s ass as Namjoon uses his hands to guide jimin into your heat. 
- Jimin is so thick. So big compared to your entrance, the stretch doesn't burn after Namjoon but you do feel full- so deliciously full that it makes you gasp and grip jimin's shoulder, letting your leg fall against his hip. 
-  You're so wet and warm; Jimin has to slow down immediately. whining loud in the quiet room. “Alpha- I can’t-” namjoon's hand forms a vice around the base of his cock, keeping him from cumming. “You can- and you will Jimin” Weather it’s your wetness or Namjoon’s cum that makes the slide inside of you so slick. He can only thrust forward so far before his stomach makes contact with your baby bump, and the slide, the simple push of your hips against his makes him feel tingly all over.
- “Fuck you feel so good,” Jimin pants out, and you smile, reaching forward to brush his hair out of his face and over his ears, sending a shock of pleasure all the way down to his tail. Maybe it’s because he’s been wound up so much, or because you’re still tightening with the last thrum of your orgasm that makes Jimin come so easily. 
- He’s only been trusting inside of you for a few minutes before he feels his knot start to swell, pulsating against namjoons fingers and ready to spill inside. namjoon lets him go and Jimin can barely keep himself from getting rough with you. though he won’t- would never dream of hurting you. It feels nice to be filled by him, and you feel yourself brought to the edge again by his gentleness- he doesn’t have to thrust quickly for it to feel good- just being this close- as close as you two can get to each other is enough.  
- It’s not Jimin’s first time having sex. But for all intents and purposes. You’re the only ones it matters for. He sends a panicked look in Namjoon’s direction, unsure if he’ll be able to hold off. His hands shaking where they sit, entwined with yours. Body crouched as close as he can to you. Through the entirety of it- Namjoon has been stroking up and down his back, and he grips his hips now- guiding him through each thrust to make them less sloppy.  “Alpha- alpha please-“  
- “You can cum Jimin, make sure you knot her.” At his alphas command Jimin cums with a shout. Namjoon pressed to his back and Yoongi hissing over his shoulder. Watching every thrust with baited breath. namjoon pushes jimin’s hips inside at just the right moment and you twitch as he knots you. feeling him swell inside you more than should be possible entrance pulsating in time with his twitches. jimin cumming into you with squirts and squirts of warmth as you milk his knot.
- You squirt weakly- and it drips down around his cock and makes it even wetter if that’s even possible, no doubt leaving a puddle against your bed. you hold jimin close and he wants to collapse against you but doesn't because of namjoon holding him around the middle, guiding you to safely sit to the side, giving your little baby bump a little loving rub. “Gotta keep the bun safe minnie” namjoon chides. “Sorry hyung just- so good” Jimin slurs. eyes still rolling back in his head as he just keeps Cumming. 
- “Can I call you good boy now?” you tease, and jimin whines again predictably as both namjoon and yoongi nodd. Jimin’s knot does not stay inflated as long as namjoon’s does. starting to shrink after a few minutes once he stops cumming really. though the occasional spasm of your walls around him has him tensing again. 
- When its gone down fully he makes to pull out but namjoon catches his hips again, and tells him to wait. A shiver goes down his spine as yoongi walks over to watch. your leg flopping to the side, open so that he can see, though you grumble and cover your flaming face. it might be a little embarrassing- but it’s also really fucking hot- the way they like to see how much they’ve wrecked you- claimed you in a way they only could.  
- jimin doesn't understand until he sees namjoon and yoongi’s ravenous expressions, the way they lick their lips. it’s only then that namjoon carefully guides jimin to pull out. 
- the rush of cum is immediate, forced out of your entrance by your lingering orgasam makeing you clench and force their cum out of you. there's so much of it, dripping down your thigh thick and viscous and so so messy. 
- jimin is so overwhelmed, as his cock keeps dripping. he flops back onto the bed after a second, close enough to you to be wrapped in your arms, both of you huffing with labored breathes, Namjoon gripping hard around his waist and guiding him into the comfort of the bed and your arms. Hands splayed wide on Jimin’s trembling stomach. Pinching at Jimin’s knot for a moment. And the whole room spins.  
- Jimin is so pretty when he arches his back to try and get away from the over stimulation, especially when your hand joints namjoons and you both squeeze- head thrown back in ecstasy, his plush lips parted with his pants. “Stop fuck- too much” your hands are off of him the second he says it. Jimin’s eyes are closed, as you lean in and kiss at his neck. “Sorry puppy” he hears the older alpha chime- Jimin whines, his whole body turned to jelly.
- You’re barely sighing and settling back into the sheets, head tilted to get a sloppy fucked out kiss from Namjoon. Yoongi lingers. And you look up at him expectantly. His cock is still hard and curving against his stomach.Somewhere between jimin and Namjoon in thickness and length but ribbed with veins that stick out like the ones on the back of his hands.
- You think he’s going to mount you too (your deepest darkest fantasy’s hope that he might. You have to admit that you like the idea of one of them going one after another, Cumming in you, making you feel full and well fucked. You’re certain that one day- if they still want this- if they want to keep doing this with you. You’ll have that, each of them knotting you and filling you up- breeding you and making sure they knock you up again. human hybrid pregnancies are so rare they’re practically non-existent, but you know if there where any that would manage it it would be these three.)
- jimin’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his skull when he smells yoongi closer, nostrils flaring, “gotta help us breed our omega yoongi” he slurs. clutching posessively at you. The words so unexpected but so right. Namjoon can’t take his eyes off Yoongi. While in his arms. jimin tries not to dose- thoroughly spent. 
- It’s the kind of language that Namjoon’s used with you before- calling you their omega- though you’re human you know what it means. To be theirs, taken care of and knocked up and fucked out. You and Namjoon- for the amount you bicker like an old married couple. Also communicate a lot,
- Though talk of your fantasies has mostly been pillow talk. Both of you spoke of wanting this before it happened and of your feelings for the others too. Namjoon had squealed almost as much as you had when you’d told him of jimin’s confession.
- You’d done your best to learn all you could about hybrids. So it never struck you as strange when Namjoon had come to you and confessed that Yoongi would one day be apart of his pack. Namjoon’s alpha instincts choosing Yoongi- spreading protectively over the snake hybrid. Namjoon hadn’t had much control over who was accepted into his pack- much in the same way that you have never have control over who you fall in love with.
- And maybe it was through you- that Namjoon and Yoongi eventually found a way to connect beyond the touches. Because Yoongi looks at the utter mess of your entrance, splattered with jimin and Namjoon cum and growls. His hands barely brushing your skin as he guides you to spread your legs and bare yourself to him. You dont understand what obsession they have with looking at your cunt- but there has to be something. 
- Namjoon ever insatiable even snakes his hand around to spread you out for Yoongi. Teasing at your outer lips before his thumb presses against your clit- making your legs tremble. His touches so slow and firm, enough to make you absolutely desperate for another orgasm.
- Yoongi won’t touch you, he won’t make you cum- you know that enough by now because as much as Yoongi loves the intimacy you have it’s still too much for him. But one of his fangs hangs out over his lip when Namjoon starts to finger you. Rubbing their cum into your clit. And like you could read his mind, Yoongi starts up his stroking above you. 
- He never breaks eye contact with you. Beside you, Jimin shifts to watch. His sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. “I’m not going to stop until you’re squirting,” 
- “Why do you always want to- ah- make me messy?” you tease Namjoon- bickering with him even now. “Who knows maybe dirt is just my kink.” 
- Jimin snorts, “You hate gardening Namjoon-“ you laugh, but you’re also squirming in overstimulation, as Namjoon’s thumb teases and teases until you’re trembling, and you want to gasp say that you can’t possibly cum again- but a look over your shoulder tells you that Namjoon knows you can. Yoongi’s eyes lock with yours when you look back, and you see the sweat on his temple, Namjoon’s hand speeding up when his does.
- Cumming after a few minutes with a gush that makes your cheeks flame. Hips jerking up and off the bed as you squirt- pussy clenching so hard that it forces their cum out to drip. Timed with you again- the intimacy of it all- of Cumming together, Yoongi’s cum spurting all over your stomach before he directs it to your clit. Mixing with the other hybrids cum. 
- You’re thoroughly spent, legs falling open with no shame to hide you from the painful friction that would surely arise if anything touched your clit right now. Reaching out for arms that gladly take you. Ready to have them close.
- Jimin sits up, brain finally a little clearer as the pheromones in the room start to dissipate, leaning forward to hasten a lick Over your entrance tasting all of you intermingled makes his tail wag. But you’re a little too sensitive even for that- and you pull Jimin away before he can give a second lick, and he curls up close to you in the next second, face buried in your shoulder. 
- He’s just as fucked out at you are, wrung out and hung to dry by all of this intimacy and pleasure making his body feel satisfied and settled. Unwilling to move from this bed. speaking only through whines and grumbles. Practically non verbal- and brought low into his hybrid headspace. Jimin and Namjoon don’t mind the mess on you. To them- it just smells like pack and home.
- He’s dimly aware of Yoongi going to the bathroom to get a rag for you- because as much as you love the feeling of all of their cum filling you up you really don’t want to have to change your sheets and luckily for you- most of the mess of your lovemaking has been well contained On you skin and your well placed blanket that can easily be exchanged for a fresh one.
- Namjoon softly turns jimin over onto his stomach, Jimin’s red cock pressed uncomfortably to the bed as they wipe down the release on Jimin’s back too. (Had Namjoon cum there? rutting in-between Jimin’s ass cheeks as he’d been inside you? and had Jimin been too lost in the throws of his passion to realize?)
- “I love you Yoongi, thank you for letting us do this, thank you for being apart of this.” he hears you say, and it makes Jimin’s tail wag.
- He stays awake long enough to hear Namjoon switch the fan on and to feel Namjoon swallow both you and Jimin in his arms. He hears them quietly conversing. “Are you sure you don’t want to come closer?” Yoongi must indicate one way or another. Because Namjoon quietly settles. 
- The bed shifts, and he gathers Yoongi must have curled up several inches to the left of him. jimin squirms- wishing he’d come closer. but then he feels the slow trail of Yoongi’s fingers just along his spine and smiles into your hair.
- He wants to reach out, to pull him closer- but Jimin won’t know that touch is so tenuous for him. He knows him not partaking tonight isn’t anything to do with not loving you three. Jimin will respect Yoongi’s boundaries for as long as it takes for Yoongi to not feel a bit of the aching hesitation he suffers through when it comes to loving his pack. His eyes closed, he feels fingers trail along the edge of his hairline, ears flicking and nose twitching, Jimin lets out a happy little puppy grumble.
- “Love you” he finds himself whispering against your hair, “love you all so much” his words are slurry and not all there. And he’s rewarded with Namjoon muttering it back, reaching out to run a hand gently along his cheeks. A large hand knots in his hair, not rubbing through and just gripping, and jimin knows its Yoongi hand.
- Yoongi stays awake that night until all of you are asleep, wishing that for once- he felt the pull of Namjoon’s alphaness the same way Jimin did. The younger certainly seemed hazy; all of the tension in his body giving way with Namjoon’s will exert itself over him. But he’s content to see them the way they are now, all soft and vulnerable. Namjoon and Yoongi bookending the both of you curled together in the middle. So peaceful. Yoongi hopes he can make the two of you feel as safe as Namjoon makes you feel.
- Yoongi reaches out to touch your face, thumb drifting a hair's breadth from your lips, he knows he could never hurt you- never even dream of it. His mistress- owner- this mission was doomed from the start. He was yours- for all intents and purposes of the words. Yoongi didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Other than your bed at that moment. 
- And when he closes his eyes He imagines all the ways that he would touch you if he could. How he would have touched you tonight if he’d just allowed himself too. Maybe in the future- maybe in a few days when he gets used to this togetherness he’ll get to be close to you in the way he so desperately wants. Tonight was so nice, and with you smelling like all three of them. Yoongi feels like he’s apart of this- in a way that he hasn’t felt before. 
- it’s not only touches he wants- it’s the love you share too. All of the words he would whisper low in your ears where he able. He’d find out your favorite foods and cook them every day, find out everything you like- badger you even. So that he could learn your favorite things and hopefully earn the right of being one of your favorite things too. 
- He imagines the three of you holding him close in the winter and giving him space in the spring when his skin gets all sheady and itchy. Maybe you’d even make him one of those oatmeal baths that you’d started to favor towards the end of your pregnancy to help ease the shedding process. he imagines Jimin prodding at his scales and counting them. Namjoon kissing the ones behind his ear. 
- Yoongi thinks of the future you have with namjoon and jimin and thinks about you and your child. Yoongi imagines for a second even though the image hurts; what it would be like to see them. He feels his heart ache so viscerally it’s too much- he can’t think about that. 
- He can't think about what he can’t have. In the next few days he’s going to do his best to love you three and protect you and then that will be that. that's all yoongi gets. Not a life with you or a family with you. And then he opens his eyes, swallowing. And thinks that even if he doesn’t get to see all of that- at least- at the very least, he can savor every moment like it might be the last.
- And it is the last moment, Five. 
-  Four. He leaves the room to get a glass of water. If he’d known, maybe he would have looked back when he crossed over the threshold of your bedroom door. The clock ticking down to zero in an instant like a timer left unwatched. 
- Three. If he’d known, maybe he would have leaned over Jimin’s body to kiss your lips- just to kiss you once. Given Namjoon a kiss too. Touched Jimin's face to say ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the love you want, but they’ll give it to you in my absence,”
- Two. On his ways down the stairs, the house is quiet and so familiar. The only home he’s ever had, the only place he’s ever wanted to stay forever.
- One. He’s just on the landing, when he sees the car out-front, black with its lights off, but if he listens he can still hear it running, as quiet as a mountain lions purr. Then He hears a quiet knock at the door. And Yoongi pauses on the steps.
- The clock stops at zero.
- The cherry of her lit cigarette is the only thing that glimmers in the moonlight with any color. That and the red tip of her tongue as she rolls it over her teeth. Yoongi freezes in fear the second he sees his owner, standing with her arm against the doorframe. 
- A wash of cigarette smoke tainting the scents of all of you on him. He sees her farce, her thinly veiled superiority, and the tenseness in her body. Three men behind her. it’s all a lie, she’s angry and she’s afraid and she’s a devil in human skin. 
- “Times up Yoongi.” One moment- he just needs one more moment. Holds up her finger and for once, she listens. Taps her foot impatiently. 
- The house is quiet, upstairs you sleep on, unaware of what happens below. 
- The next morning you wake up to Jimin and Namjoon curled up close. Their soft breathes intermingling in the golden light of morning. Jimin nosing underneath your chin. You cuddle close for a moment letting the safety of sleep melt away, before you sigh and get up to get dressed. The heats broken over the night, and you wrap your fluffy robe around your shoulders just to feel a little cozy. You don’t know why you feel so restless, but it’s like your bones are cold.
- Things are too quiet, the hum of Yoongi’s air conditioners aren’t running, aren’t filling the top floor of your house with their white noise hum. And you realize something’s wrong the second you pause by his door. Usually, his air conditioners run through the night, and leave the space under his door and immediately outside in the hall cooler to the touch, but a look inside after a nock reveals his room is empty, his straw hat is missing from its hook too. You’d assumed he’d left after last night to sleep in his own room because yours was too warm.
- You spill out onto the first floor of your house looking for him, searching for him by the coffee maker or on the couch watching the morning news, but a small commotion, terse hush words interrupt your train of thought.
- The cat hybrids are crowded around something on the table. Breakfast barely even started. One of them turns when they see you in the doorway and if any of them notice something different about your scent- probably drenched with both all of your hybrids. None of them say anything. If you had to guess- you’d say that whatevers wrong is much more pressing than any hybrid faux pas.
- “We were going to wake you” one of them says, biting her lower lip, her torn ear twitching. “We didn’t think you’d want us to move it until you saw.”
- The crowd parts, and you pull up to the side of the prep table. a blanket is folded on the table- it’s Yoongi’s- the heated one. The one that he needs to sleep if he’s going to not wake up shaky and too cold in the middle of the night. His sun hat- the one he always wears sitting on top of it, a little note sitting there too tucked into the leather band.
- The simple note- two words that aren’t enough to soothe the sudden panic in your veins. “I’m sorry” written in his neat scrawl. The words he wants to say but can’t- had to erase and then scribble over so you can’t read them. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, I would if I could, and I want too so bad. it’s not your fault that i had to go.” 
- But there are just those two. I’m sorry. Not enough and almost visceral in the way that they shock the air out of your lungs. You gasp- almost falling with the way it hits you. You wish it wasn’t true, but deep down you know what it means.
- Yoongi is gone. 
Please Reblog and Comment! Likes are nice but they do little to support content creators! 
Kofi
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barnesandco · 3 years
Text
Little Hands (VI)
Series Masterlist
You and Ana cope with the aftermath of Bucky’s arrest.
This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021. Word count: 1145. Square filled: “Natasha Romanoff”
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Sad Child. Mild angst. Discussion of feelings. 
A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. That is all. Please enjoy.
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Steve’s Brooklyn brownstone is well-equipped and roomy; you suppose it has to be to be accommodate him and his four teenagers, as well as a number of Avengers, what with their mi casa es su casa tendencies. It feels empty right now, though, with just you and Steve and Anastasia in the kitchen, the weight of Bucky’s arrest in the air.
It's quiet in a way a house full of kids never should be, and you know Steve’s sent them away with instructions to give you privacy. Before the last of them left, though – Zoya, pretending there weren’t any tears in her eyes – she left Anastasia a bag of toys. Ana sits on the floor by the counter with the wooden building blocks spread out before her.
You focus your mind back onto what Steve is saying.
“…they’re saying they found Bucky’s fingerprints and hair on the scene. We think Zola is framing him. He would have had access to Bucky’s biometrics and samples of hair from when Zola was with Hydra.” Steve’s perceptive eyes are constantly searching you for any sign that you want to ask for help, for relief, for consolation.
You set your shoulders. “How are you going to prove his innocence? They have pretty solid evidence.”
“He’s innocent. That’s the truth,” Steve says, determined. “That’s going to set him free.”
You don’t say, it has to.
-----
Dinner is a sombre affair. The kids lay the table, quiet as mice, all of them, as Steve brings the lasagne out of the oven. Natasha is visiting in both aunt and bodyguard capacities and has brought tequeños from the small restaurant owned by the Venezuelan-American family on the corner.
You watch her carefully because her situation is so easily comparable to yours. Neither of you have much experience with children, but when thrown into interacting with them, you’ve both improvised well. As has Bucky, you suppose, with a pang of hurt. Natasha’s smiles are rare and bright around her godchildren, and you watch her gaze return repeatedly to Ana where she sits beside you.
At least Ana is safe, you think, as you know Bucky must have repeatedly in the past couple of days, right up to the moment of his arrest.
-----
When you sleep, you dream. And when you dream, you worry. Eventually, you stop twisting and turning on the mattress and leave the bedroom. The bottom step at the stairs creaks dangerously loud. From the windows in the kitchen, it looks like the backyard is empty, but stepping on to the porch finds you company. Redheaded company, and not just the Black Widow kind.
Natasha is sitting with her arm around Hannah, Steve’s second-youngest, a girl with auburn braids the length of her spine and tears tumbling down her round cheeks. You begin to turn and leave them to it, when Hannah calls out, “it’s okay. Please stay.”
“Yeah, join our pity party,” Nat encourages with a sarcastic but sad smile, and so you sit on the steps.
This silence is different from the one in the house earlier today, with Steve or at dinner. This is grief and hope, and faith beyond belief. None of you know what to expect, and how could you? These are thoughts that cannot be expressed, and so you can only sit with them. Sometimes, all there is to do is wait.
The sky is clear tonight, and the stars wink brighter than they have any right to, and you wonder if Bucky can see them from where he is. Probably not. It’s a damn shame. He loves stargazing.
“Uncle Bucky loves astronomy,” Hannah says in a small voice, and you smile. Bucky’s told you a lot about her, and his other godchildren. He’s so proud of them, so happy for them. “But then, you probably know that.” As he should be. Sharp as knives, the lot of them. “You seem close. He talks about you a lot.”
Oh no. Is this the if you hurt him we’ll kill you talk? Are you really having that conversation now? You try not to let the dread show when you look at Hannah, and see the loose smirk on Nat’s mouth. It looks unnatural above her soft, purple sweatshirt. Don’t worry, she mouths behind Hannah’s head. You try not to.
“I hope they’re all good things.”
Hannah laughs. “You might as well have hung the moon and all the stars. He looks at you the way Aunt Nat looks at—mphhh��� Nat’s hand covers Hannah’s mouth until Hannah promises – with vague hand gestures – not to tell. When Nat lets go, all three of you laugh, and laugh, and laugh.
“I don’t know about the moon and stars,” you begin, after things have settled down. You look at the moon, think about blue eyes and calm nights on the roof. “I care about him. So much that it scares me. I just want everything to be alright.” It’s a childish confession, and you allow it to yourself knowing that your present company won’t judge you for it. You’re sure that inside, you all feel the same.
The heart has many chambers, but one of them always wants just that one thing: safety. Somewhere to call home. And if you can, you’ll give that to Bucky, and with time, you think you can learn to do the same for Anastasia.
“He has to come back. For Ana,” you say, and Hannah nods solemnly.
Nat looks on, with approval. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”
“And Aunt Nat doesn’t make promises lightly.”
“I am from Russia. We people of our word,” Nat jokes in a heavy accent, before dropping it entirely. “He’s going to be fine. We have a plan, and it’s going to work.”
Again, you think, it has to.
-----
Steve storms into your room with an apologetic expression at odds with the ferocity with which he entered and says, “We need to get you out of here.”
You can only say, “Ana—” before he says Nat’s bringing her down. You have just enough time to put on a dressing gown before you’re unceremoniously escorted out in a rush. The Rogers children are with you, and you’re split into two groups, one in each armored vehicle out of place on a suburban street like this.
In the end, it’s too late. Not too late to get you out, because the tires screech and you’re off. But it’s too late to get you out before you catch a glimpse of what you’re running from. A man in black leather, weaponry everywhere. It’s Bucky, only it’s not Bucky at all.
It's the Winter Soldier, you think, as you leave him in the dust. It isn’t until later that you realize Ana has been weeping silently in fear, and you clutch her as tight as you can. Now what?
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aceofspadegrass · 3 years
Note
Our favorite aib characters and y/n splitting into teams and playing competitive hide and seek
Hide And Seek: Beach Edition
Characters: Aguni Morizono, Hatter, Tatta Koudai, Arisu Ryohei, Usagi Yuzuha, Kuina Hikari, Chishiya Shuntaro, Niragi Suguru, Last Boss, Ann Rizuna
Genre: Crack. It's Hide And Seek time!
2.7k words
Quick mention, Y/N is written as Yin the entire time, please insert any name in as if it says Y/N. I only did it because that’s how I always read it as because I’m weird like that.
Also Y/N is written as gender neutral, but please if you want put any pronouns in place of it.
Anyways, here it is!
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It was rather quiet at the Beach today. Well, mostly because everyone unimportant was out doing games. It was amazing, really, how quickly and empty the Beach ended up. The only people left were a small handful, that being the executives, militants, and a few extras.
Of course, Hatter wasn’t going to let everyone left to just sit around by themselves, despite the fact that a decent chunk were perfectly fine with being alone in a completely quiet Beach for once.
“ So, what the fuck are we all doing here?” Niragi was the first to speak up within the meeting room, one hand holding his head up as his elbow rested on the table, the other hand busy with combing through Yin’s hair, who was comfortably laying across three people’s laps, with Chishiya the unfortunate chair for their feet. Arisu was nestled in the seat between the two, staring purely at Hatter as the robed man stood at the end of the table with a grin, arms out to the side.
“ Well, that’s easy! Since right now, the entire Beach is ripe for the taking for the…..” He pauses, head counting everyone in the room. “ Eleven of us, including me, I thought of something to pass the time!” “ What is it?” Arisu asks, tilting his head. Hatter grins, and he raises his arms even higher, his grin spreading even further across his face.
“ Hide and Seek: Beach Style!” Hatter announces. In return, he gets a few eyebrow raises, a few blank faces, and Tatta vibrating in excitement.
“ Across the entire Beach?” Chishiya intones, “ For ten people?” He leans back on his chair, arms resting comfortably folded on his chest. “ Sounds interesting.”
“ Wouldn’t that take forever though?” Tatta raises his hand, Hatter smiling.
“ We have all the time in the world right now!”
“ Yes, but even so, it might take far too long to search everything, especially so little people with so much time.” Aguni glances at the others within the room. “ We should have rules in place so that there is a plausible chance to find everyone.”
“ Ah, alright. Okay, listen up! We’re going to play hide and seek, where the only rules are that you can’t hide in any normal room, but the executive rooms are up for grabs, and any place within the Beach! To be fair, once you find a hiding spot, you can’t suddenly move from that spot. And once you’re found, you’re obligated to help find everyone else! Fair enough?” The others all nod and give noises of agreement, Hatter smiling. “ Good, good! Now, who wants to be it?” He looks among them, the others doing the same.
“ I suppose I can.” Ann was the first to offer herself, raising a hand. Hatter nods, and she turns around and starts counting. The moment the first number was uttered from her lips, everyone ran out, ready to hide away as well as they could. Yin was dragged along by Niragi, for reasons they weren’t too sure of, but Niragi seems rather eager to drag them away.
“ Where are we going?” They ask, Niragi saying nothing and continuing to drag them along. They reach a room, which appeared to be a storage room, Niragi pulling them inside and shutting the door. He turns to them and smiles, before gesturing to the pile of boxes in the corner. They nod, and quickly duck behind them, Niragi taking a spot by a separate pile of boxes.
“ This should be good enough. It’s a decent ways away from where the dissection bitch is, and out of the way.” Niragi explains, Yin nodding. It seemed fair enough.
“ Where do you think the rest of them would be?” They ask, curious. Niragi shrugs, sitting back and brushing a few stray hairs from his face.
“ Hell if I know. Hey, how fast do you think Ann would find everyone? I would say at least two hours. The Beach is big as shit, and there’s only ten people in the entire building. Bets that Ann doesn’t find us for at least half of that.”
“ Oh, you’re on! I say she’ll never find us-“ Yin chirps eagerly, leaning against the boxes. Niragi nods, smirking. They sit there in silence for a while, Yin carefully listening for any signs of movement outside.
There was nothing for a while. The both of them were prepared to be waiting for a while, since it was theoretically one against ten in a massive building. Yin’s breath hitches as they hear footsteps outside, and the door opening, letting in light from the outside. There was the soft tapping of footsteps, Yin and Niragi making eye contact with each other, Niragi placing a finger to his lips.
The footsteps stop for a few seconds, Yin and Niragi staying still, but Ann’s head pokes into their sights, Yin yelping and bursting into laughter as Ann lightly waves to them.
“ Found the both of you.” Ann looks to Niragi, Niragi pouting slightly and getting up. He comes over to Yin and helps them up, and the trio exit the room. Outside was Aguni, who looks at them and lightly tilts his head up in greeting of them, Niragi rolling his eyes.
“ Aww, are we the first few? Lame.” Niragi grumbles, Yin patting his back in comfort. Ann ignores the comment and walks down the hall more. Aguni, Niragi, and Yin follow after her, the four occasionally stopping to check the other rooms they pass by with zero luck. They get that hall cleared out rather quickly, with four people searching at the same time. Ann leads the little crew out to the pool area, looking around for a second.
“ There is no way someone is hiding out here at the pool. It’s too open!” Niragi waves a hand as he gestures to the pool.
Yin shrugs, walking closer to it with [E/C] eyes scanning the area briefly. “ I dunno, there may be a chance. Look!” They point to a stack of opaque colourful pool floats stacked atop each other right by the pool. Aguni and Niragi look at each other, sharing a brief nod, before approaching the pool floats, Ann following after them. Yin giggles a little and trails along behind them as Aguni and Niragi settle a hand behind the floats, Ann quirking up a lip as the floats shift just a little.
“ Found you.” She announces with a cool demeanour as Niragi and Aguni push the tower into the water, a yelp emitting from the stack as Arisu tumbles into the water. With a bit of struggling, Arisu frees himself from the floats and resurfaces, sputtering and spitting out water. Niragi cackles and points at Arisu, Arisu swimming closer to the edge. Aguni helps him get out of the water, Arisu shaking his head and getting water droplets all over the volcano man.
“ Serves you right.” Yin grins, Niragi glaring at them, Yin patting his face with a smile, making him sputter and back away. Arisu smiles, wringing out his poor shirt in the meantime.
“ How did you even get in there?” Yin asks. Arisu opens his mouth, but then quickly shakes it.
“ Can’t say.”
“ You must have had help. And considering that I don’t think they would have left you unsupervised with how close you were to falling in the pool…..” She looks around. “ They might be in the area. Come on, let’s look around.” She walks away, everyone splitting up and looking around.
It wasn’t that hard, Aguni pulling out Usagi from underneath a chair that was a bit out of the way. Arisu excitedly waves at Usagi, Usagi smiling and waving back at him. They regroup, and after yet another sweep, they head onwards.
“ So, we need to find Chishiya, Kuina, Tatta, and uhhh… Hatter. Right?” Arisu counts each person on his fingers, looking at Ann. Niragi and Aguni glance at each other, but before either of them could correct Arisu, there was a rather loud noise above, Ann looking up and pulling her sunglasses up.
“ Found Hatter.” “ Wait really?” Arisu looks around in confusion, then at Ann with a mildly worried face. “ I don’t see him? Did you mean that noise?”
Ann nods, and she ducks into a room, looking at a vent cover. Everyone around her look at the same vent, Arisu very much confused. So was Niragi, but he wasn’t keeping very quiet about it. “ I don’t fucking get it.”
“ I think he climbed into the vents. Are any of you willing to climb in?” Ann looks at the squad, Usagi nodding and approaching the vent. With the help of Aguni hoisting her up, Usagi managed to get the oddly loose cover off, and she squeezes herself inside, Yin and Arisu cheering her on as she disappears into the vent. The group follow the sounds of her moving around as best ad they could, until there was a rather sizable loud screech, followed by something falling. Aguni was the first to head towards the noise, Niragi and Yin not far behind with Ann and Arisu at the back.
The sight was something else, Hatter face planted on the ground with Usagi coming out of the ceiling a little bit later in a much more dignified manner. Aguni sighs and kneels down besides Hatter, shaking his shoulder. Hatter pops up rather quickly, chuckling. “ I have been caught~ A shame.” Hatter looks around at the group, smiling. “ But I wasn’t the one that sucked at hiding either!”
“ Congrats.” Ann monotonously praises him, Hatter getting up and wiping his kimono down.
“ Thanks! Now onwards, I think I know where the small one is!” He runs off, Aguni immediately following after. Niragi grins excitedly and grabs Yin’s hand and drags them away, yelling something about ‘being the one to find the watery pancake batter’.
By the time Hatter had even the semblance of stopping, they were upstairs where the executive rooms were, Yin tilting their head.
“ How do you know he’s up here?” They inquire, Hatter smiling and slapping their back.
“ I just know! Trust me!” Hatter chirps, and he starts throwing open doors, Niragi doing the same with a little more ferocity, adamant on finding Chishiya. Yin chuckles, and the rest begin to search.
It takes a good ten minutes before any of them even found a trace. Well, a trace being finding Kuina hiding in the closet and coming out wearing a fucking rainbow bikini.
“ Seems like you had fun.” Yin comments, Kuina nodding and smoothing down the ruffled top. “ I did!”
“ ….. Weren’t you wearing a different bikini earlier?” Arisu asks, Kuina nodding and smiling happily.
“ I was. Now anyways, Chishiya’s around here somewhere. Buuuuut I’m not telling you where. Sorry not sorry!” Kuina shrugs, and Niragi rolls his eyes, leaving the room and calling random words that the rest can only assume meant he was attempting to call for Chishiya. They had no choice but to follow him, looking through the rest of the rooms. Hell, they looked through the rooms twice, as Chishiya was a little shit who was clever enough to hide literally anywhere to avoid being found. Kuina was intentionally being a little unhelpful as well, as she apparently knew where Chishiya was but loyal enough to not be a snitch.
Yin splits from them to search Hatter’s room, looking through every crevice and humming. It was a bit of a controlled chaos mess in there, and they find a few stray cookie packages, both empty and near empty before they spot a small box in the corner, inconspicuous and hidden unless someone was looking directly for them, yet big enough to possibly fit a human cat inside. Grinning, they quickly approach the box, and throw upon the lid, only to be greeted with something even better.
“ Hi Tatta!” They greet, Tatta looking up at them from the cramped space. It was actually impressive how Tatta crammed himself in there, actually.
“ Hi Yin!” Tatta greets back, and shifts back and forth, smiling a little nervously. “ A little help? I’m stuck.” Yin nods, and they grab the edge of the box and tip it over, Tatta grunting as it lands with a thud. He wiggles within the confines, and extends his arms out as Yin helps him pop out of the box. Tatta stands up and thanks them, complete with a nice friendship hug, Yin hugging back. They grab his hand and drag him out of the room, meeting up with Kuina, Arisu, and Aguni, the former two waving at Tatta. Tatta waves back, smiling as Yin joins them. “ Found Tatta! That means we just need to find Chishiya, right?”
Kuina and Arisu nod, Aguni only grunting slightly in response and holding up a finger. The others look at the man in curiosity, Tatta and Arisu both tilting their heads in synchronization.
“ I fucking found you, you tiny rabies foaming ferret!” Niragi’s voice rings clear and true, followed by a yes of indignation as Chishiya suddenly emerges from Niragi’s room, wearing a fedora on his head. “ You fucking slut!” Niragi emerges not much longer, Chishiya planting himself right in the middle of the hallway gang, Niragi trying to get to him only for Aguni to stop him with a hand on his chest.
“ Not right now.” Aguni orders, Niragi grumbling angrily and thankfully backing away, Yin coming over and patting his shoulder. Niragi huffs, calming a little from Yin’s presence.
Ann and the others come around bit later, Hatter grinning and spreading his arms out. “ Well then! Wasn’t that fun! Looks like we’re all here!” “ Actually-“ Aguni butts in, but Hatter ignores him.
“ Congratulations, Chishiya, you were the last to be found! Aren’t you proud of yourself?” Hatter says, Chishiya tucking his hands in his pocket and saying nothing, eyebrow raised and lips curled into a slight smirk.
“ The last?”
“ Well, yeah! You are quite a hide and seek champion.”
“ He’s a bitch to find.” Niragi grumbles, leaning his weight on one leg. “ Fucking cat ghost.”
“ Thanks. Bet you were the third to be found.” Chishiya lightly retorts.
“ He was.”
“ Wh- Oi! Shut up, Ann!”
Ann just turns away, eyes scanning the group. Aguni was frowning a little, looking at Hatter. She quickly figures something wrong, counting everyone mentally. “ No, wait. Hatter, we’re missing one.” “ Oh? And whom may that be, Ann?”
The others all look around as well, some a bit confused. Only Aguni, Niragi and Chishiya seemed to know before the rest of the people that hid realized, Niragi scowling a little.
“ You fucking lobster, we haven’t found Last Boss.”
“…… Well…. does anybody have any idea where he might be?” Kuina asks.
They all look among each other, not a single hint of anybody knowing.
“…. Split up?”
Everyone nods, all dispersing within seconds.
As people started coming back from games, the ten remaining were now back at the meeting room, none of which accompanied by any hint of the tiger stick.
“ How the fuck can he not find him-“ Niragi blurts out, hands on the table and staring at everyone, “ Where the hell did he go.”
Everyone could only give off shrugs and ‘I don’t know’s, Aguni sighing.
“ Well, he wins.” Aguni sits down, crossing his arms over his chest. “ And nobody knows where he could possibly be.” “ He’s so good at disappearing, I’m amazed.” Tatta comments, Arisu and Usagi nodding.
“ So….. does that mean I have to call him?” Niragi pulls out a walkie talkie from his pocket. Aguni waves him to give the go ahead, Niragi clicking it on. “ Hey, egg noodle. You won. Get back here or else I’m filling your closet with rubber ducks.”
There was silence, then the slightest noise that may have been a hum, before…..
“ No. I’m comfy. Night.” The line immediately goes dead again.
Everyone is silent, Niragi taking one slow breath, shutting his eyes with murder in his smile. “…… Bitch.”
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monstersandmaw · 4 years
Text
Male drider x reader (sfw) - Part One
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
It’s Wednesday, so that means it’s ‘new’ story time. This one has been up on Patreon for a week already, and Part Two has gone live today already.
Content: Female reader takes up a job as an archivist in a creepy old house and is surprised to find that 'the master' refuses to be seen at all... Very much ‘Beauty and the Beast’ inspired, if you will. Cameos from Sarrigan Silkfoot and Damien the orc chocolatier (Tumblr links). Wordcount: 2464
EDIT: my favourite comment from patrons on part two has been ‘cranky spooder’
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WANTED: Librarian to take on an extensive, re-cataloguing project in a large, private collection. Diverse collection includes books, clay and stone tablets, scrolls, parchments, and various other media.  Applicant must be willing to live on-site in a relatively remote location, and archival qualifications preferred, though demonstrable experience may suffice. Board and lodging will be provided throughout the duration of the project. It is anticipated that it should take between four to six months. More details to be supplied to the candidate following a successful interview.
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You stared at the strange advert in the paper and let your teeth sink slowly into your lip, a frown playing across your forehead. This was… honestly right up your street in terms of experience and qualifications. In that moment, sitting at the table in your favourite coffee shop in Starfall Springs while a summer rain shower hammered down outside, you wanted to wave that advertisement in the face of everyone who’d said a postgraduate qualification in archive and records management would render you essentially bankrupt and completely unemployable. If this was anything to go by, they were only half wrong. You were practically bankrupt. Well, up to your eyeballs in student loans at least.
“Fuck it,” you hissed under your breath, ripping out the advert and getting out your phone. There was no email contact, but there was a number, and you saved it to your contacts in case you lost the little shred of newspaper, and decided to call as soon as you got home.
The phone wasn’t exactly your preferred method of communication, but it was all you had, so after psyching yourself up, you punched in the numbers and paced about, waiting for someone to answer.
Abruptly, the dial tone cut off, and a crackling on the other end of the line announced that someone had picked up. “Hello…? I’m… I’m calling about the archivist’s role advertised in the Starfall Chronicle… I was hoping for a bit more information.”
“Oh,” came a reedy, thin voice. “Your qualifications?”
You told them and then waited for them to speak.
“Hmm. And your experience?”
You swallowed. “I… I helped the Starfall Museum in transferring their computer system from the manual catalogues…” you said, suddenly feeling like this was the interview already.
“Mmm. So your experience is not extensive then.”
It wasn’t a question, and you ground your teeth.
“Just how am I supposed to get this vast acreage of mythical experience if no one hires anyone without it? I can get you three stunning references from the museum curators and staff, as well as from my professors at university,” you said hotly. And instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry,” you added hastily. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Yes you did,” they chuckled, voice husky and fragile. “And you’re perfectly right. I think you might do well at this in fact.”
“I… what?”
Another soft snort. “What information would you like to know then?”
“Where is it, for a start?”
There was an uncomfortable pause, and you’d just been on the point of asking if they were still there when they spoke again. “There’s an old estate to the north of Starfall Springs.”
You frowned. You’d heard rumours as a child growing up here that there was some mad old nightmare creature who lived in the woods on the slopes of Starfall Mountain and came down into the town on the new moon snatched naughty children from their beds, but you'd long dismissed it as nonsense to make kids behave. Still, it sent a tingle of apprehension down your spine.
“I’ve heard something of it,” you said carefully. “Not much.”
“Widowsweb Court,” the person said with reticence. “The estate dates back centuries, and the collection is in need of some care and attention. If you would be willing to live on the estate in your own, self-contained apartment, with meals provided in the kitchens of the main house should you wish it, then I think you sound like the right person for the role.”
“When would you want me to start?”
In the end, it took you less than a month to get everything organised.
On the evening of your departure, you and your friends celebrated on Temple Meadow, the huge swathe of public park surrounding the town’s religious building, and as you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky and surrounded by friends, you saw a shooting star sear through the canopy of glimmering stars above.
Sarrigan Silkfoot and his partner lay curled up nearby, and Damien, the huge orc from the chocolaterie in town, had tucked his own partner’s head against the crook of his colossal shoulder. A thought occurred to you as you watched Sarrigan toss his head back and laugh at a joke whispered in his ear, and you sat up.
“Sarrigan?”
“Mm?” he hummed, laughter still dancing in his eight red eyes.
“I know you don’t talk much about your family, but do you know of any other estates around here?” You hadn’t mentioned exactly where the job was, just that it wasn’t in Starfall Springs itself.
“Why d’you ask?”
“The place I’m going to for this job is called Widowsweb Court, but the library said it’s been abandoned for years, and I couldn’t find much about it on the internet either.”
He went still at the mention of its name. “Widowsweb you say?”
You nodded and realised you had the attention of everyone in your small group.
Sarrigan straightened and tucked a strand of his long, black hair behind a tapering ear. “It used to be part of the Silkfoot family holdings… way, way back,” he began, gesturing with his hand. “But about four hundred years or so ago, there was a disagreement between the then patriarch of the family and the dowager, his mother. He essentially annexed the property and disowned the entire estate. He could have sold it, but apparently he felt just guilty enough not to turf her out onto the street…”
“Why? I mean, what did she do?”
Sarrigan shrugged. “No idea. Knowing my family, it probably had something to do with anti-human sentiments…” he winked at you and added, “We really didn’t like your kind invading these parts…”
“We’re not exactly a majority round here,” his partner said, thwacking him in the belly with the back of a hand.
“True,” he said before turning back to you. “But you’re saying someone actually lives there?”
Damien leaned across and grinned, “Could be a long-lost relative, Sarrigan!”
“Well, whoever my employer is, they have a huge collection to reorganise, so I’m in.”
“You don’t even know the name of the person who’s paying you?” Damien gawped.
You shook your head. “A Mr. Ambleside is taking care of that. He’s apparently employed to keep the estate running and such… He’s the one who interviewed me.”
“Ambleside is an old family name from these parts,” Sarrigan said thoughtfully. “Well, you make sure you keep in touch, hmm?”
“Will do,” you nodded.
The only problem was, you discovered after Damien had dropped you off and fussed endlessly over you outside the tumble-down gates of the estate, that there was no phone reception way out here. Not even a single, sputtering bar.
As the tail lights of Damien’s truck disappeared, you pushed the iron gates open, the hinges screeching in protest loud enough that you thought your arrival would be announced all the way back down into Starfall, a two hour drive away.
Heaving your huge suitcase into your hand, you began to struggle down the driveway. Overgrown, potholed, and muddy, the road was barely even a road after the recent rain.
Ancient, thick-boled trees hung over the drive, branches meeting in the middle like lovers fingers interlaced, and after half a mile of walking, you stopped, exhausted, and sat on your suitcase. You’d made it out of the small, gnarled copse that bordered the edge of the estate, but the parklands that lay beyond seemed to stretch for miles. The thought of hauling your sizable suitcase all that way made you feel faint, especially in the stifling sun. There was at least a cooling breeze that lifted your hair and caressed your skin, but honestly, it was hopeless.
Eventually, after perhaps a quarter of an hour of sitting there, getting warmer and thirstier, and growing no less exhausted, you caught sight of a movement on the driveway. Squinting, you made out a horse and cart, and sitting atop the driver’s bench, a figure with a wide-brimmed hat on their head.
The closer they got, the more you were able to make out, and when they were perhaps fifty yards away, you stood up. They looked to be an elderly firbolg, with warm-brown skin and flaming red hair and beard.
The horse was an elderly, bony looking thing, and the cart just as rickety, but the firbolg drew to a halt beside you and barked your name in a familiar voice.
“Mr. Ambleside?”
“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “You’re early.”
“A little, yes.”
“Well, climb in. Do you need a hand with your bag?”
You looked at it, and then at the height of the cart bed. “If you wouldn't mind?”
He nodded and climbed carefully down. You weren’t sure how old firbolgs got, but he didn’t exactly look young. Having said that, he hauled your bag into the back like it weighed nothing at all and then helped you up to sit beside him on the bench before turning the cart around and heading back up the driveway.
The house itself was nestled in a clump of massive elm trees, masked from view until almost the last moment. “I’ll show you to the cottage, and then you can come up to the house for some refreshments. You’ll start work tomorrow at nine.”
You nodded, not wanting to rock the proverbial boat. “Is it just you and… er… your - our - employer here then?” you ventured after a few minutes of silence with only the rumbling of the cart for background noise.
He shrugged. “My boy works here in the grounds too, and there’s Chiara who tends to the household. Other than that, yes. And the master, of course.”
“Will I be meeting him?” you asked.
Mr. Ambleside looked positively scandalised. “Oh heavens no!” he gasped.
“Right. I see. He’s… unwell?”
That drew a deep scowl from the firbolg’s thick, heavy brows. “No,” he said, but it sounded like he was buying time. “No, he’s not unwell. He just… prefers a solitary life. You are to enter through the back door to the kitchens, proceed up the route to the library that I will show you, and return the same way when you’re done, is that clear?”
��Perfectly,” you said, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.
“If you need to use a telephone at any time, you may use the landline in my office.”
That news came as a huge relief, and you clung to it as you were shown the slightly dusty stable-house apartment just across the courtyard from the main house. Widowsweb Court was a massive country pile, with filigree stonework and steeply pitched, slate-tiled roofs, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a horror movie.
Your first week passed without incident. You assessed the vast, rambling collection, and saw immediately that it would definitely take much, much longer than the six months for which you’d been contracted to get to grips with it and get it into a decent order. Even if you had a team of ten strong people to help you, there was no way you could reorganise all the shelves in the cavernous library. It was as large and as varied as any national archives, and contained books and scrolls on everything from ancient magic to the development of medicine in various countries across the world.
Travel journals were rammed in next to tomes on mathematics, poetry beside animal husbandry, and gemology beside botany. There was no scheme to it, and after two weeks, you nearly had a complete breakdown.
Covered in dust and suddenly vastly overwhelmed by the looming, dark bookshelves, you simply sat down on the floorboards and let your head fall forwards into your hands. This was a gargantuan effort for one person to tackle alone.
Something rattled in the stacks and you gasped, sitting up straight, heart hammering. “Hello?”
Silence followed, but after only another few seconds, you heard a skittering of limbs and the slam of a door. Except, there was only one doorway to the library, and it was behind you.
Standing somewhat shakily, you swiped your tears away and paced steadily along the floorboards towards the source of the noise. When you found nothing but dusty stacks and silent  books, you swallowed and turned away.
At supper that night, you ate with Mr. Ambleside and his son, Naril, who was perhaps a year or two younger than you, and looked very much like his father. Noticing your pensive expression, he leaned over and asked in his softly-articulated purr if everything was alright. “You look… I don’t know… Did something happen?”
You sighed, nudging food listlessly around your plate. “I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the project today…” you said. “And… I heard a noise in the library that startled me, that’s all.”
The two of them exchanged looks and then Mr. Ambleside said, “That was probably the master…”
“But I thought…” you began, though you hardly knew what you thought about the mysterious person who supposedly ran the estate, pulling all the strings from a hidden room in the old house and never revealing himself to anyone.
“Why do you think he wanted the collection organised?” Mr. Ambleside chuckled into his potatoes. “He’s an avid reader, but doesn’t have the patience to do it himself. Plus, he doesn’t see too well any more.”
“Oh,” you breathed. “All those books, and… that seems so cruel… Is he very old?”
Naril shook his head. “No, he’s maybe ten years or so older than us? Chiara reads to him in the evenings if his eyes get tired, and —”
“—Naril, that’s enough,” Mr. Ambleside barked, and Naril’s fluffy ears tucked right back against his head. “We do not gossip about the master.”
“Sorry, father,” he said, shooting you a look that conveyed a fair bit. ‘If you want to know more, ask me when he’s not around’ it said.
For another week, your recataloguing was left undisturbed by noises, but after four weeks of being at Widowsweb Court, you encountered ‘the master’ for the first time, and he was nothing like you’d thought he would be, though perhaps the name of the place should have given it away.
Part Two --->
To be continued next Wednesday... Part Two is currently up on Patreon so you can read it right now on the Pixies and Goblins Tier.
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alecmagnuslwb · 2 years
Text
Every Move is a Work of Art
Part of my Malec SpideyCat AU
Read on AO3
Alec hears the alarms at the Met long before they even go off, his Spidey sense feeling something amiss in an instant. He sighs wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before slipping his gloves back on and his mask back down. He sighs once again discarding over half of the homemade tamales his sister had insisted he take with him on patrol after having dinner with her at her place.
He stands thwipping out some web at an adjacent building and taking off in a swing in full Spiderman mode now. Unfortunately though the thrill of doing this, of swinging through building to building isn’t quite what it once was. Being Spiderman of late has been taking a toll, he still wants to help people, thrives in knowing that he’s making his neighborhood a little bit safer than the cops ever have cared to, but the ecstasy of being sixteen and first putting on the suit he worries may be well and truly gone for good.
He can’t quit even if he puts the suit on a little slower these days, even if he feels the sting of the bruises he earns a little longer now at twenty-eight than he did at nineteen, even if he doesn’t quite enjoy the chase of whatever ridiculous villain of the week is wreaking havoc on his town that day like he did at twenty he still sees the value in being out here, in being the hero the city needs and has come to rely on.
But the truth is the friendly neighborhood Spiderman is tired.
He lands gracefully in a tumble on the skylight roof of the museum already sitting wide open and peeks inside. He watches the quick slide of a figure all in black slip below deftly gliding inside a windowed vault they definitely shouldn’t be inside. His Spidey senses go off as he jumps inside falling in a crouch directly outside of the window. Inside the figure in black is turned away from him casually dragging sharp claws along the frames of a few no doubt priceless works of art.
The black suit hugs the frame of the thief tightly, broad shoulders and strong arms showing off an impressive physique that tapers down to hips that Alec can’t help but think definitely know how to move.
Alec despite his better judgment can’t help but enjoy the rest of view as the figure finally seems to notice him turning just enough to the side that Alec can see a sharp cut jaw framed with a dark goatee. Deep brown eyes meet his surrounded by a thin black domino mask, a glittering of silver along the thief’s lashes catching in the low artificial light. A smirk crawls onto the lips of the thief and he turns fully walking up to the glass and tapping his sharp claws on it gently.
And if Alec had been fighting his better judgement before the full-frontal view has him growing even more weak, the black suit clinging tightly to his chest, the zipper in the front just a little too low, the white fur at the edges of the suit framing a tanned chest perfectly. The thief drags a finger along the glass causing a screeching noise that sends his heightened senses into a wince.
The thief smirks again running a hand through his jet-black hair with tufts of pure stark white at the front flopping a bit to the side. He moves quickly spinning and grabbing one of the paintings setting off the alarm finally. The loud noise shakes Alec into attention reminding him of why he’s actually here.
He’s here to fight crime not ogle a criminal.
He moves into action meeting the thief at the vault’s door blocking his way.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to put that back,” he says in his most friendly neighborhood Spiderman tone.
The thief smirks again and this time up close Alec can see the faintest shade of shimmering pink on his lips, the shape of his eyes and the shining silver cat studs in his ears. In the distance he hears the sound of sirens growing closer and closer, mere seconds away from making their way into museum.
“Well if it isn’t the friendly neighborhood Spiderman I’ve been hearing all about,” he says slowly his voice smooth, warm and soft like melting butter.
Alec smiles under his mask pulling up that Spider charm that’s gotten him far. “I’m flattered, unfortunately I don’t think I’ve heard of you though,” he says crossing his arms. “And with a costume like that I’m sure you’re not new to this whole stealing thing.”
The thief’s smirk morphs into a genuine smile, almost looking proud that Alec recognizes his skill level. One does not break into the Met quietly without some exceptional skill, Alec knows this well.
“Oh, I’m definitely not new, just haven’t been home in long, long time,” he says stepping a little closer, the painting the only thing keeping space between them. For a brief moment Alec wishes the painting wasn’t there. “International thieving just pays so much better these days, but the call of the city and all that brought me back.”
Alec hums keeping his arms crossed and the thief’s pathway blocked.
“I get that, fabulous NYC, we’re a great city, but you still didn’t give me a name and it doesn’t change the fact I’m going to need that painting,” he says meaning superhero business. The thief sighs tightening his grip on the painting.
“Okay,” the thief says lifting it up in one swift movement, bringing it down over Alec’s head trapping it around his shoulders before taking off in a run.
“Hey!” Alec shouts not his most efficient superhero line as the thief slides the belt from around his waist and reaches up an arm the belt morphing into a grappling hook that he shoots upwards into the still open skylight and grips to tightly.
“You can call me Black Cat, by the way,” he says with one last smirk before pressing a release at the base of the former belt and slipping up and away through the window. Alec struggles with the painting as he watches the Black Cat go.
It takes him another few beats to shimmy it up over his head just as the cops bust in through a large set of double doors at the end of the hall.
“Freeze,” one of them shouts, their guns all at the ready instantly. Alec holds his arms up the painting in shambles, basically just a frame and some shredded fabric now. He looks at it and sighs.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” he says. Cops have never taken to what they consider his meddling and this definitely isn’t going to expand their views in any way. “I, uh, definitely can’t pay for this.” He says eyeing the painting and slowly moving to lower it to the ground. Photojournalism does not pay nearly as well as 90’s romcoms led him to believe and pictures of Spiderman aren’t exactly the high paying novelty they once were. He used to make enough to help put his baby sister through grad school and his brother open up his own gym. Now he struggles to make rent most months, a priceless painting is far outside of his budget.
“I’m just gonna go and catch the thief responsible,” he says backing away slowly from the line of cops moving closer to him. “You know do your jobs but with kindness.” He says before shooting his webs out at the cop’s guns blocking them up as they try to shoot, he misses one though a shot firing off right at his side.
He twists away from the bullet as he shoots his webs up and vaults himself back up onto the roof. A round of several shots follow him, one bullet just barely grazing his side as he lands on the concrete.
“Shit,” he says taking off in a run swinging to the next building over and then to the next putting a solid distance between himself and the cops who he’s no doubt made even angrier than usual. Not that he cares, he’s the one saving lives and taking care of the people they ignore and write off. Far too many of them in the pockets of rich supervillains who decimate the city on a weekly basis.  
He scans the surrounding buildings trying to catch any sight of the Black Cat, he hones in on his senses when he feels that familiar tingle at the back of his neck. He turns and right on the rooftop behind him the alluring thief stands hands on his hips. He lifts a hand and waves Alec’s way.
Alec doesn’t hesitate taking off instantly for the building, the Cat just smiles and turns leaping off the roof. Alec looks down as he reaches the ledge and finds the Cat gracefully crouching like he’s waiting for Alec, like he wants to be chased. He looks up and smiles before taking off again, Alec follows obliging.
If the Cat wants a chase, the Spider will give him one.
The Cat moves with grace that has him questioning if he’s superpowered in some way. He flips elegantly from ledges and scales buildings in ways that Alec couldn’t even do for the first year or so in the blue and red suit. Alec smiles when the Cat extends his claws and scrapes down the rough cobbled side of an old building flipping out and using a street lamp pole to vault himself to another building. Damn he’s impressive.
“You know,” Alec shouts a few buildings later, his heart racing, his skin tingling with excitement. A familiar enjoyment creeping into his bones as he alternates from web to web inching closer and closer, but never quite reaching the Black Cat. “You left your painting behind!”
Black Cat laughs a melodic sound as he does a graceful roll onto a building’s roof coming to a perch atop a large stone gargoyle. Alec meets him landing at the foot of the statue his eyes trained up on the thief.
“It was never about the painting,” he says dangling a small flash drive on a keyring around one of his claws.
“What’s on the drive, Cat?” Alec asks and the thief shrugs.
“Don’t really care, I just know that there’s a gentleman who’s willing to pay me quite a bit of money for it,” he says standing to his full height. He scrapes his silver tipped heels against the stone stepping back to the edge of the statues head dangerously close to free open air and a fifteen to twenty-foot drop. “It’s usually something stupid, an embarrassing sex tape, bad boudoir photos. Things like that.”
Alec launches up swinging himself to stand directly in front of the Cat. He retracts his claws back immediately slipping the flash drive into a small pouch at the side of his hip.
“It could also be dangerous,” Alec says taking a step towards him.
The thief smirks again. “Danger is kind of a part of my line of work I’m afraid,” he says stepping back closer to Alec, so close he can feel the heat radiating off of his body. Alec uses the proximity to his advantage this time discreetly tapping a button on the concealed panel on his arm Izzy built into his suit to scan the Black Cat’s face in hopes of figuring out just who he is aside from insanely hot and Asian. The Cat reaches out a sharp hand and for some reason Alec can’t place he doesn’t even flinch as the Cat drags a claw close to the tear in his suit along his side, not quite touching the bullet’s graze. Alec shivers at the motion.  
“You give good chase, you know?” the Cat says swerving his hip away to be certain Alec doesn’t try and reach for the drive his hand gliding up to settle no the spider emblem on Alec’s chest.
“So do you,” Alec says no choice but to admit the same. He hasn’t felt this alive, this vibrant while wearing the suit in years. This feels like that thrill he had at sixteen, like the rush he got at twenty. Like maybe being Spiderman hasn’t become a monotonous day to day just like any other job.
The Cat smirks again stepping impossibly closer he lifts his hand up dragging a sharp shiny claw along Alec’s covered jaw flicking it out playfully when he reaches his chin.
“It’s been fun Spider, hope we can do it again sometime,” he says and before Alec can even react he’s being pushed back hard stumbling to stay on the statue. He catches himself just barely and looks back up to the thief just as he blows a kiss Alec’s way before doing a complicated backwards flip off the edge of the statue. Alec scrambles in a very un-Spiderman like way to the edge watching as the Black Cat cuts through the sky, the city lights catching on the leathery shine of his suit as he goes down, down, down. Alec’s eyes go wide jumping down and after the Cat to catch him before he falls, he shoots out a web that Cat impossibly and inexplicably twists away from mid-air.
Does he have a death wish?
Alec extends his arm again feeling himself getting far too close to the ground when a garbage truck piled high with old mattresses drives by, the Cat falling gracefully inside. Alec catches sight of the Cat sending him one last wave gracefully twisting up into cross legged position just before Alec remembers to shoot out some web catching on a stop sign before he crashes into the ground.
He lands poorly on the sidewalk feeling an instant twinge in his right ankle and a bruised rib or two as he rolls away. He moves a little slower to stand, limping to the street corner holding onto the same stop sign that broke his fall for support eyes scanning for the garbage truck that’s long gone.
“Rough night, Spiderman?” a young man beside him says looking him up and down as he waits for the crosswalk signal unphased by the fact Spiderman is just standing there beside him beat to hell. Alec likes that the novelty of him being around has worn off for everyone but little kids these days, that the fanfare has died down, it makes his job easier.
Alec thinks about the question for a moment his eyes still scanning the street and every truck that goes by even though he knows the Black Cat who’s entranced him so tonight is probably two boroughs away by now.
“No, actually, best night I’ve had in a while,” he says the young man eyeing him skeptically before shrugging and crossing the street. Alec smiles underneath his mask placing a hand on his chest just where the Black Cat had moments before already looking forward to his next night out as Spiderman for the first time in a long time.
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ghostofstudentspast · 3 years
Text
OBLIGATORY part 4
Draco x Pureblood!Reader (Series) MASTERLIST
Back again with another part to the series!! Since I’ve been on hiatus for so long I’m taking this story in a completely new direction which I am SO excited about. I really hope you all enjoy it!  I know chapters have been a bit short but I’m building to some bigger events soon ;)
PART 5 Word count: 1400
A hangover after a five-day bender. That’s the only way you could describe the way your body was feeling. Your stomach cramped up and a whimper escaped your lips as you curled in on yourself, soft sheets beneath you. Soft sheets. Not the cold hard floor of a dungeon classroom. Cracking open your eyes and sitting up slowly you peeked around the room before you.
Not the hospital wing either. The room itself was spacious, with a big window on one side, golden light streaming in through light curtains. There was a small desk in the corner, a cushy arm chair next to a small bookshelf and a fireplace. The bed you found yourself on was impossibly soft, with the fluffiest duvet you’d ever felt in the world. But still you had no idea where you were.
The soft click of a door drew your attention to the other side of the room. A familiar face slipped through the door before spotting you sitting up, awake.
“Ah, so you’re not dead after all.” You watched Draco walk towards you carefully, almost as if he was approaching a feral cat.
“No-I….where are we?” Your throat felt dry and your voice was barely above a whisper.
“I know why you did it,” He ignored your question and stopped next to your bed, handing you a glass of water you hadn’t noticed. You gratefully accepted the drink but never took your eyes off Draco. “It’s this isn’t it?” he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves and turned his arm towards you to expose the harsh black lines of the skull snaking down his porcelain skin.
You shook your head silently, too tired to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. You tried to come up with the words. How could you tell him it terrified you to spend your whole life under the dark lord’s thumb when Draco was so loyal to him. You could feel your breath hitch and the panic bubble in your chest.
“Hey, look at me,” his tone was surprisingly soft, almost gentle. He perched on the edge of the bed, closer than you were prepared for. His hand carefully gripped your elbow and you couldn’t stop your body from flinching slightly under his touch. You looked up at him as a tear rolled down your cheek and your chin trembled. His eyes held no malice anymore, no anger and none of the disgust she was expecting.
“I’m just as scared as you are.” He spoke as if saying it out loud for the first time. Maybe it was.
Of course, you knew he’d taken the mark, but you’d been so caught up in your own anger and fear that you hadn’t considered the toll it would have taken on him. The bags under his eyes spoke of restless nights. He looked frazzled, nothing close to the usual perfectionist persona you grew up with. For the first time you looked at his dark mark voluntarily. It made your skin crawl but now you could see the raised skin under the tattoo. The edges were red and looked as uncomfortable as you felt.
“Why did you take it?” you whispered and looked back at his face.
“He would have killed my family Y/N,” he didn’t look back up at you, instead focussing on the tattoo, disgust clear in his eyes. He dropped his arms into his lap and picked at the material of his trousers. “My father angered him, and he offered me up like a scapegoat for his actions.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just thought…” you took a deep breath, “I’m sorry.” You grabbed his hand to stop him from fiddling and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Me too.” He finally met your eyes again and offered you a tiny smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Truce?” you wiped your face from tears and a small laugh cut through your sob. He squeezed your hand back this time and nodded. “So, how do we know if me almost dying actually worked?” you pushed your hair back and took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts.
Draco pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the little desk in the corner of the room. He picked up the contract and brought it back for you to take a look at. At first glance you could only see blood splattered across the page and it looked like a crime scene. But when you took a second, closer look at the paper, the words had started to fade. Certain sentences had already disappeared off the page and others were hidden behind dark spots of your blood.
“It’s disappearing?” You looked up at Draco questioningly.
“It’s been fading for as long as you’ve been out.” He nodded, “but it hasn’t changed since you’ve woken up.” You kept flipping through the contract.
“So, we’re still bound to this,” you muttered, “but there’s enough missing that there must be a loophole here somewhere.” A spark of hope flared up in your chest and a small smile graced your lips.
“I think so,” he agreed and allowed himself to drop into the chair next to the bookshelf, inspecting at you from a safe distance.
“I’ve cast a charm on the copy of the document so anyone who looks at it will be fooled into thinking it’s the real one, so we have time before our families find out about this,” your brain was in idea mode, words tumbling out of your mouth before you could completely process them.
“You’re an idiot,” Draco spoke up, but it didn’t hold any malice this time, “but you’re a clever idiot.”
“I can get us out of this.” You grinned at him.
___________________
“Y/N!, where the hell have you been!?” Daphne screeched as soon as soon as you set foot in your shared dorm room. You’d come out of the room on the third floor dazed and a bit baffled but hope still sat in the back of your mind. As soon as you’d turned to ask Draco a question, the room was gone and so was he.
“Literally to hell and back.” You flopped onto your bed, body still sore. You launched into a full explanation as you showed your best friend the bloodied contract.
“This is insane!” She gasped as she read through some of the clauses, “and Draco, he’s…he didn’t want…?” she whispered even though you were alone. You nodded silently, he was in the same boat as the two of you. A scared kid.
“Look,” you pointed to the top of the contract, ‘The two parties will enter into a magic bound partnership’, “Before, all of the clauses pointed towards marriage, but now,” You flipped to another page with some vague outlines of the magical bond, “it only has to be a partnership. If we stick to the remaining demands, we can live the rest of our lives separately as long as we don’t break any of the rules.”
You were already planning on how to avoid some of the written demands. If you just made a list of the things the two of you had to stick to, you wouldn’t even have to live near each other. You just had to interpret a new meaning of the word partnership.
“This is insane, you almost died,” Daphne was still in shock, “I would have murdered you for that you know,” she smacked your arm with very little force behind it.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to fend for yourself without me,” you teased her and pulled your friend into a hug, relief spreading through you. One problem was dealt with. Now you had room to imagine a way out of danger for you and your friends. If you could keep your head down, play pretend for a little longer, you might make it out of here alive.
“We’re out of here as soon as we turn seventeen,” you promised Daph quietly, still holding her tightly.
“We have to be,” she squeezed you gently.
If you were going to survive your families, the Dark Lord and the stirring trouble that was brewing among the entire wizarding community, you’d have to keep up the loyal daughter façade for one more summer. Seventeen was when you’d be ‘marrying’ Malfoy. Seventeen was when you were considered your own person in the wizarding world. Seventeen was when you would find your freedom.
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englishmuffinsrd · 4 years
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What Happened To You?
Pairing: Kirishima x reader
Genre: angst with fluff :)
Word count: ...
Synopsis: You were a very positive girl, but when you have one of the hardest weeks ever and break down, who will be there to comfort you?
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This week was so great, perfect justttttt perfect. <— that was sarcasm, it was most definitely not perfect. :(
Y/n was a very positive girl, not only for others but also herself, if she was struggling she would focus on the good. She would constantly go to bed and try to clear her mind, de-stress and not talk to others about negative stuff because she knew it would bring her down and make others worry. She would wake up everyday with the idea that no matter how busy she was, she could make the day great.
This week was no different, but as you know, time carries on, stress builds, it can wear a person down. Exams were coming up, y/n’s family had been really busy and although y/n loved her family she just couldn’t talk to them right now. All of her clothes looked weird these days, thank goodness UA had a uniform. Her classmates seemed so cheerful, she didn’t want to ruin that, so she carried on.
She would run everyday, it became a routine and it helped her cool off, today was just like other days. She tied her shoe laces, pulled up her hair, stretched a bit, and got on her way. She usually went the same route and she knew her way well.
She was running when she lost her footing. Ouch, what the heckkk, that never happens. She had twisted her ankle, she could tell, not from the pain but from the grossly worrying ✨crunch✨ she winced, couldn’t even feel the pain yet but she had fallen too. As she tumbled down the hill the earphones in her ears were ripped out, covering her head she came to a stop.
A large sigh escaped her mouth. ‘It’s alright, it’s okay’ is what she said to herself, she got up and it was very apparent that the adrenaline rushing through her body was basically gone now because her ankle hurt like hell. ‘It’s alright, it’s okay’ she mumbles to herself. She can walk, she can. It just ~really really hurts~ and she can push through.
She’s almost up the hill when she remembers her earphones weren’t with her. Another sigh. She turns and waddles down the hill again. ‘It’s okay, you can get you music going, make it back, get a hot shower, and then sweatpants. :) sweatpants.’ and that became her motivation.
She bends over, grunting loudly, much like a hippo, and gets her earphones, she’s plugging them in as she makes her way up the hill and starts her music.
?? Starts her music. ?? ‘What the hell?’ Pressing the volume button, she turns it up. Pauses and unpauses the music, checks her data, even wastes one of her precious skips on her free Spotify plan 😩 The next song was her favorite-most recent add. She unplugs her earbuds and presses play, the music loudly booms out.
‘It’s alright, it’s okay my earbuds are broken it’s cool it’s not like their expensive’ and she carries on. Tosses them in a public trash bun and makes her way back to the dorms. Smiling and waving at people on the street and ❤️boy does her foot hurt❤️ She’s just back at the building when she sees Momo.
“Hey y/n!! How was your run?” She smiles at you and you smile back.
“It was good, how are you?” Momo says she’s well and they go their separate ways. A very tiny part of y/n is sad that Momo didn’t notice the pain she was in, but then again, it’s not like she gave any evidence of the ache in her ankle. This was her fault.
She opened her dorm room door and closes it up. She sighs and takes off her shoes, her socks are sweaty and gross as she removes them (🥵) she had missed dinner and she groans in disappointment. Hopping in the shower she stretches her back.
Update: the water never got hot enough and she had run out of conditioner.
‘It’s okay some people don’t even use conditioner, it’s fine...’ she thinks, but her hair already felt uncomfortable. The idea of her favorite soft sweatpants she bought from the men’s section is all she wants right now, and luckily for her she had cleaned them that morning. Her ankle is crying at that point and for some reason her shins and thighs really hurt. Maybe she can text and ask Jirou to get them for her :D
“Heyy Jirou 👋🏻”
“What’s up?”
“Your dorms right by the washing machines 🥺 I was wondering if you could get my sweatpants from the farthest right machine, their pretty big and dark blue.”
“Oh y/n, the machines broke, the water pipes burst this morning 😯 I can’t believe you didn’t know, all the clothes were soaked”
“What? oh my gosh :( well it’s okay, how are you?”
It wasn’t okay, things were getting progressively harder for y/n to be positive and now she can’t even be comfy while she stresses out about exams. Y/n spent another hour and a half going over school stuff while icing her ankle. And she’s embarrassed to say she went through a few toilet paper squares whipping away her angry tears, her tissue box empty as it was also allergy season.
She went to bed stressed and sad. But she still went to bed with ‘it’s alright, it’s okay, tomorrow is a new day, I can do this’ her eyes closed and luckily got some shut eye.
She did not wake up from her alarm, nor the sun, nor a villain attack, no, it was the 🙂throbbing pain🙂 in her ankle. But heyyy it’s alright just choke down a few ibuprofen, probably some acetaminophen since she finished off her ibuprofen last night and God knows she doesn’t have the extra $$$ to buy name brand meds right now.
And dangggg did her legs hurt, she shimmies up her skirt and tucks her shirt in, she’s looking in the mirror as she ties her shoes when she notices her bruises, ya know the purple and yellow globs of skin all along her knees. Great.
It was hard to keep a positive mindset that day. She was really struggling to keep it up. And it wasn’t hard for others to tell. She smiles as she takes her seat in class, Ochaco immediately notices her bruises.
“Y/N WHAT HAPPENED?!” She wails, y/n shakes out a laugh sorta sound and shrugs,
“I don’t know, like they just come outta nowhere, it’s so weird, I probably got them on my run or in training.” She smiles at Ochako.
“Y/nnnnn” she wines, “you gotta be more carful!” And then she turns around to respond to iida calling her.
Y/n sighs, you were tired, unmotivated to even focus on the lesson, your normal happy vibe wasn’t there anymore and you were definitely not the only one who could tell.
Kirishima was a really observant guy, he knew from past tests how worked up you got over you’re studies but this didn’t seem like the same stress. You looked overworked and tired, not to mention the bruises, ᵂʰʸ ʷᵉʳᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠˀ :(
He spent most of the lesson focused on you, the frown on your face made his stomach hurt.
“Hey y/n! :D” Kirishima dances over to you.
Your face immediately brightens up, “Hey Kiri, how are you?”
“I’m doing well, I just wanted to check up with you.” He has a kind of concerned look on his face, a cute eye smile but his eyebrows furrow together.
Y/n pauses, but then smiles, “D’awe Kiri that’s so sweet, I’m doing well, thank you for asking”
Kirishima isn’t dumb, yeah he’s not the smartest book-wise, but he’s really good at reading people.
“Oh, okay, just making sure.” He’s disappointed and a little sad you didn’t confide in him. He rubs your shoulder and gives one last smile.
As he leaves your hand traces over the phantom chill of his lingering touch. For some reason his concern brings a tinge of tears to your eyes. ‘Geez get over yourself y/n’
In other news, your ankle was doing terribly 😁.
——————————————————————————
There’s a certain line for you, a certain line that if crossed you just can’t help but break down. At this point you were close, but not in the danger zone. You shoulda known better than to spent the night studying again.
You wake up feeling terribly rested but what did you expect? There was a noise at the window and you thought you were imagining it at first but it continued. The blinds screech open and you make a mental note to try to never provoke that noise this early ever again. But all thoughts leave you at the sight of a baby bird.
Laying on your window ledge is a baby bird, probably not a week old, there was nearly no fuzz on the innocent creature, definitely no wings yet.
Y/n is kicked into action. The baby was hurt, barely moving. Y/n’s tentative hands scoop the lil guy and he’s cold, shivering, and still as loud as ever, a strangled noise comes from y/n. She did not care if she was gonna be late, this bird was gonna die.
And this is the part I hate the most because there’s nothing, nothing she coulda done, nothing. And she just watches as the little bird wiggles slowly and then just stops. Her mind is as silent as ever and her lips are sealed, her eyes water and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do, just let it sit there? Does she bury it?
As tears roll of her cheeks she sets the little bird in an empty shoe box, she sets the box on the window sill and then she leaves.she leaves as if nothing just happened. She’s still taking it on okay? That was literally he most sporadic thing she’s ever done, there was no plan, no thought in that event, she just watched a creature die. ‘It was just a bird, it’s alright, its okay y/n’
But tears are still rolling off her cheeks and she knows it’s not just about the bird, it was about everything, not talking to her family, her friends, stress over school, her bad days piling up, it just crashed. She hid herself in the bathroom and washed her face with the sink water. There were no towels so she had to dry it off with tissue paper that stuck to her face. Her tears never stopped, though her eyes clenched painfully, and her hands kept rubbing and she kept taking those deep breaths it seemed that nothing helped and then she sniffled and then a choked squeak left her. Her eyes kept watering and her head ached. Her legs ached. Her bandages foot ached. Her heart ached. She cried loudly, she can’t remember the last time she cried audibly, but she’s gasping and wailing.
At some point she picks up her feet and splashes her face again, this time drying it with the bottom of her tucked shirt. Her eyes are red and swollen but if she walks into class with her hair and head down nobody would notice.
People noticed. She was late, Aizawa scolded her and she cleared her throat before apologizing. Nobody could tell yet as she took her seat. Froppy pokes her back from her desk,
“What happened, ribbit?”
Y/n clears her throat loudly and coughs a bit, she leans back and tilts her head, “I just slept in.” Her voice does ~not~ sound like her. And everyone can tell. Bakugou is staring and from the back of the room kirishima watches carefully again.
By the end of class y/n’s head is down and covered by her arms, her eyes are closed-the light only worsening her headache.
The girls whisper about her, nothing malicious, just about their worries, she wasn’t herself, y/n was a morning person, never late, never. She always greeted the class and today she sounded so distressed.
“Hey y/n, lets head to lunch, todays lesson was so boring I was just thinking about how hungry I was all lesson.” Ochacohad a smile on her face as she looked down at your sunken form, your head still on the table.
“Nah, Ochaco, I’m not too hungry today.” You mumble.
“You okay y/n? you seem kinda down.” She squats down to try to look at you.
You clear your throat and take a deep breath to fix your voice, “yeah I’m just tired is all no worries, you lift your head up and smile at her. Her face only grows more concerned at your swollen eyes. “O-oh okay, hang in there y/n we’re here for you.”
She walks sideways to share glances at the other girls and also look at you. They leave to the cafeteria and you scold yourself for worrying them. Everyone else is gone, you sigh and tug on your hair.
The noisy drag of rubber on stone fills the room and you flinch up, full attention. A chair drags it’s way in front of your desk, a mop of vibrant red hair clears your view. Oh. Well... that’s a thing.
“Hey.” He says
“Hey.” You say, trying to sound little congested as possible, but your nose is just so clogged and your throat is a bit scratchy. “We’re you not too hungry? You should still get something, I have somthing in my bag if you want- oh well maybe I don’t but I have some cash for a vending machine.” You spew out, he doesn’t respond.
He just looks at you, and he feels the guilt he felt yesterday once again, he should pressed kn more, her shoulda made sure you really were okay, he could tell you were upset yesterday but he shrugged it off and now you were pretending to not care and offer him snack money.
You had obviously been crying, why? It had to have been this morning, what happened, were you stressed again? He doubts you would’ve cried about sleeping in, so what was going on, why didn’t you confide in him? Did he make you uncomfortable?
“Y/n.”
“Yeah? What’s up?” You quickly answer, trying to clear the air and make it as little awkward as possible.
“What happened?” His eyes hone in on yours, his deep rooted compassion always shines through his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks quieter.
You would be lying if you said this didn’t make you want to cry again. “Ahh yeah I’m just so tired these days, but it’s really-“
“Nah” he breaks you off, “nah that’s not it, I’ve seen you tired, we’re classmates y/n, this isn’t like you.”
It stresses you out even more to have to talk about this and years are vèrÿ ćłôšē to spilling out. Nevertheless you mumble out, “what do you mean? It’s me, Kiri.” The pained smile you wear hurts him physically.
“No, no, y/n I can tell. What happened to you? Why are you so... sad?” He weighs his words, questions wether or not he should be saying anything at all. “You would light up a room, what happened? What made you like this?”
And bam. Wow kirishima, thanks, you have officially made y/n cry, do you feel good about yourself?
Tears slip over your cheeks and he doesn’t look up until they hit the desk. He pulls his legs together and suddenly is on his feet, “oh, oh no!!! Y/n I’m sorry, what’s wrong, hey, hey it’s okay.” Officially freaking out®
He dashes over to the back of the room to grab some tissues while he violably hits his head, ‘why did you say that??? What’s wrong with you? You made a girl cry!’ He internally yells at himself.
“Here.” He hands you some tissues and awkwardly rubs your back. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you... upset.” His feet fiddle and his knee bobs on up and down with the pitter patter of his shoes.
“No, I’m sorry, I never meant to worry anyone, I want to go back to normal, this-“ you swallow, choking on air, “this week just, just sucks.”
“Hey.” He bends his knees and balances on the balls of his feet. At your eye level, he yanks your chair towards him, pulling you in so you’re facing him. “No, don’t apologize, I want it.”
What. The. Fwak. Is you saying kirishima?
“I want you to worry me, I mean I don’t enjoy worrying about you but I want you to be comfortable with me, and tell me when your stressed or bothered by something, or when you’re excited about something or when your sad about something, it’s not a burden you know? I want it, I want you to be close to me.” ̶L̶a̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶c̶k̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶w̶e̶
You just stare at each other, his eyes are dead serious, he doesn’t break eye contact for a second.
“Y/n?”
You look at him again, not having found your voice quite yet you simply nod.
“There is no pretending in friendship, in any relationship, y/n. We have to be honest with each other, you need to- to let others care about you, ya know? The girls were really worried, we all were, so when you feel like this you gotta tell us. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
And for the first time that week, it really was alright, it really was okay, and just like always, tomorrow was another day, and even though today wasn’t the best y/n now realized the incredible importance of her friendships, the increasing admiration for Kirishima and the growing hope for today’s tomorrow.
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(Unedited) I’m not the most happy with this, I wrote it so quick because my original writing of this was deleted suddenly and I had to rewrite it and I didn’t want to forget anything, anyway, I’ll make it better in the future, hope you enjoyed it, even just a little.
183 notes · View notes
outrightelm · 3 years
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Past Troubles:  Chapter Two: It’s Not Safe
*Why?! Why am I doing this to myself?! I only got only two notes on the last one. Idk why but I want to. I’m pleasing the small majority that is enjoying this. :)*
*Anyway, sorry for the pitiful intro, I would love to see what you guys think of this so far. If you want, you can check out the full story and its glory over on Wattpad. The “Keep Reading” tag is for anyone interested on reading chapter two.*
Flashback:
"Look, guys! We can talk about this!" Mike shouted to the bears holding him hostage outside of the theater.
The lead bear rolled his eyes and put Mike in his mouth, earning a screech from the mouse. Before the bear could swallow the mouse, a door was prompted open, hitting him in the stomach.
Mike flew out of the bear's mouth with a yelp, shaking the saliva off of him. The car backed up and it revealed a familiar young woman mouse in a blue sparkling dress.
"Get in! Quick!" The young woman mouse, Nancy, shouted. Her hands were gripped on the steering wheel of her boyfriend's new sports car.
Mike, Nancy's boyfriend, sighed in heavy relief when she saved him from the clutches of the bear's mouth and got into the car quickly. The performance from the theater was bustling and loud in the background.
"Thank you, sweetheart!" Mike responded happily as Nancy drove away. The bear gangs, the ones who tried to kill Mike, jumped onto the car but Nancy was able to swerve them off.
Both of the mice breathed heavily as Mike gazed at his girlfriend lovingly.
"That was a close one," Mike said, letting out a small chuckle.
Nancy let out a small giggle back. "Yeah."
Unbeknownst to both of the mice, the lead bear perked up behind the car, gripping the back with his claws.
Nancy was the first to notice with a gasp. "Mike, look out!"
Before Mike could respond, Nancy shoved him out of his seat to dodge the bear's attack at him. The car swerved when Nancy let go to save Mike, crashing into the dark alleyway. Mike tumbled into the asphalt of the road, off of the car. His body was on the ground for a while as he lifted his eyelids to see the car in a still perfect condition except for the front bumper since it ran into the dumpster in the dark alleyway. The lead bear yanked Nancy out of her seat, earning a yelp from the distressed mistress.
"So, you're Mike's girl?" the lead bear replied while putting his claw right up against her chin.
Nancy's tears shimmered while being threatened with a claw in exchange for a knife.
"Guess you're just a little snack," The bear replied while getting ready to devour her.
Before Mike could stand up and fight the bear away from his love, a mysterious sleek black car drove over him in the street.
"Richard," A mysterious sleek voice called as Mike glanced up to see the lead bear respond and gazing into the black car above him. "You're eating mice now?"
"What? One of them stole my money from me. And this is his girlfriend," the lead bear growled as he held scared Nancy up in front of whoever was in the car.
"Your money? Richard, are you forgetting who you are paying?"
Mike blinked at the question while seeing his mistress in distress and scared.
Richard growled again. "I know who I'm paying. But if he ain't having my money--"
"Well, then make steal some more money. It's that simple, Richard."
"Then what should I do with her?" Richard snarled with Nancy in his grasp.
Mike breathed heavily, too scared to step out.
"Ooh, pretty little mouse, isn't she?" A sleek voice replied.
Mike clenched his fist with a growl.
"Put her in a cage. She'll be a cool little trinket."
Richard growled while rolling his eyes. "Yes, boss."
"N-No!" Mike shouted as he got out from underneath the car. Before he could do anything to rescue his mistress, Richard slapped him away from Nancy. Mike flew back into the streets where he tumbled into the sewers again but he gripped the edge and lifted himself.
"Mike!" He could hear Nancy crying out as she's put in a cage.
"Nancy!!" Mike cried out as his lover was in the black car now and the car drove away. The bear, Richard was about to go after Mike, making the mouse flinch and fall right into the sewers. The disgusting sewer water got him away from the opening.
"You better be dead next time, pipsqueak!!!" He heard Richard shouting as Mike was screaming all the way down until he gripped onto the ledge on the side and pulled himself out of the water.
Breathing heavily and drenched in disgusting sewer water, Mike wrung out his hat while gazing up at the night sky. He couldn't stop thinking about his girlfriend...the people in the theater...he finally learned to accept them...and now...he lost them. He lost his lover, who was more than just some hot babe to have by your side. Mike thought about all of those times where he pushed everyone to their limits, angering them in the process. They were not his friends...not his family. But Nancy...she's the one who saved him and gave him a chance. A chance to redeem himself...but now...he lost her...just like everyone else. For the first time, in a long time, Mike sobbed and hugged his legs in the sewers, crying.
"What have I done? What have I done?" Mike questioned himself as his little body shook. And no one in the streets or in the theater didn't have a care in the world of where's he at or how he's doing.
                                                      ~.~
Present:
"The number one rule that my dad always told me is to never wander around the city alone unless you're armed," Johnny, the gorilla, cautioned Nooshy as they were walking down the streets of Catalonia in the early dusk.
The young lynx couldn't help but look at all of the huge buildings in fascination. "He sounds a bit overprotective of you."
"Well, he's the one who taught me how to use a gun," Johnny replied with a shrug. "There's a lot of gang activity in Catalonia but it's mostly in the bad areas ya need to watch out for."
"You seem to be an expert in gang activity."
"I thought I told you I was part of the gang."
"Right, right. Then...are you even armed?"
Johnny took out a handgun, freaking Nooshy out a little bit. "I'm always armed. I'm surprised you didn't think a gangster could ever be armed."
"Well...I trust you more than most gangsters I've encountered," Nooshy replied, her tone shaky.
Johnny nodded his head in understanding. "That's fair. Well, now you trust me enough to use it to protect you and me."
Nooshy let out a laugh. "As long as it's for protection."
On cue, both of the animals heard glass breaking. They both glanced ahead of them to see a leopard tumbling onto the sidewalk. Johnny guided Nooshy into a hiding space in the alleyway while peeking around the corner to see the leopard getting beat up by something small with a cloak.
Johnny witnessed the leopard pushed back against the building with a dagger against his throat.
"Where is she?!"
The voice from the small cloak figure was too familiar that Johnny gasped in shock to recognize who it was.
"I ain't talking to ya, pipsqueak," the leopard spat back.
Johnny turned his head to Nooshy. "Nooshy, stay here. And don't come out unless I say so."
"Whoa, whoa, what if you get hurt?" Nooshy voiced her concern.
"Then call the ambulance. But until then, stay here," Johnny whispered to her as he emerged out of the shadows and behind the cloaked figure.
The leopard glanced up to notice the tall angry gorilla behind the small cloak figure, pulling out a handgun with brows drawn together.
"Well, who do you work for then?" The cloaked figure interrogated further, not aware that Johnny was behind him and scaring the leopard to talk.
The leopard was about to give another snarky response until he noticed Johnny behind the cloaked figure again, cocking his gun quietly. "I-I don't know who it is...but I can give you-you a name of someone who might know more than me. Chester Bellows. He's closer to the boss than me. I'm just an accountant for him," The leopard answered fearfully. "And I don't know where your girlfriend is. She's with the man I don't know but if you go find Chester Bellows, he'll be able to help to answer your question. N-Now please, let me go!!"
"Oh...okay," the cloaked figure responded and let go of the leopard, who just bolted away from them as fast as he could. "Dang...I didn't think I bring fear out of people--"
The cloaked figure turned to see Johnny standing over him.
"Mike?" Johnny recognized.
The cloaked figure took his hood off while revealing himself as Mike, the white mouse. "Johnny?"
Johnny glanced behind him. "Okay, it's safe to come out!"
The young Lynx stepped out of the shadows and approached by Johnny's side. "Who's that?"
"Who's the kid?" Mike questioned.
Johnny sighed deeply. "Nooshy, this is Mike. Mike, this is Nooshy."
"What kind of a name is that?" Mike probed.
"I do warn you that he can be a butthole sometimes," Johnny added with a whisper to Nooshy.
"Hey, I heard that," Mike pointed out with a withering glare at the gorilla.
Johnny leaned in again. "Just a warning."
Nooshy shrugged her shoulders. "What are you? An assassin?"
"I'm a vigilante," Mike clarified. "There's a huge difference, kid."
"Really? You punish people for crimes instead of going to the police about it," Nooshy challenged with a teasing smile.
"Hey, it's called justice," Mike said defensively.
Nooshy glanced up at Johnny with a smug smirk. "I like getting his goat."
Mike rolled his eyes at the kids.
Johnny gazed at the mouse. "Who are you going after?"
"There's this mob boss who...who just took my girlfriend out of nowhere. And...I couldn't see who it was. I've been chasing this gang for so long that it's gonna take more than a year to find them...I hope she's doing okay," Mike uttered, lost in thought. "You know, I need to find someone who's been in the gang before, I might be able to track down gangs easier."
"You're looking at him, mate," Johnny stated plainly.
Mike turned and gazed up at Johnny wide-eyed. "Wait, seriously? You're part of the gang."
"Yeah."
Mike blinked incredulously with a relieved smile. "Oh, thank goodness I found ya! Is there some place we can talk privately? You never know when someone is watching us."
Johnny and Nooshy glanced at each other and then back at the mouse.
"I know a perfect place," Johnny determined.
"Alright, lead the way," Mike responded.
Johnny led Nooshy and Mike through the city streets to a safe place he knew.
                                                         ~.~
Buster tossed and turned in the desk drawer, breathing heavily until he snapped his eyes open with a gasp. He couldn't sit up abruptly as cold sweat was dripping all over his face. He didn't remember his nightmare other than his breathing accelerated and his heart pounding against his chest as if he's being chased by someone in his dream. He tried going back to sleep but he couldn't. His mind was now racing to remember what the nightmare was and why it scared him.
Maybe a little walk shouldn't hurt.
With that in mind, Buster put on his only suit in the desk drawer and opened it to crawl out of it. He gazed out of the window of his office from his chair, seeing the dark early night coming by. He took a deep breath as he climbed down the chair and exited the office, with keys in his pocket to get back in.
After he exited the theater, Buster strolled into the city night to enjoy the fresh air. Unbeknownst to him, a dark shadowy figure was watching him strolling out of the theater and through the city. Then...it followed him.
Buster sniffed in the fresh air as he looked all around Catalonia to see its beauty again. In all honesty, he missed Catalonia. He missed the air, the familiar feeling, and, most of all, his good memories of growing up. However, the koala showman couldn't help but felt a tingle of fear in his soul. Something wasn't right. Nothing felt right or at home. That's when the koala took a glimpse behind him and noticed someone following him, who had a dark hood and blended into the shadows perfectly but Buster could see the figure. Was this part of his hallucination?
Buster kept an eye on the figure, hoping that the figure wasn't following him around while crossing the street. But his fears were confirmed when the figure crossed the street along with him, following him at a safe distance.
The koala didn't feel comfortable in his own skin. Buster began to walk a little faster while taking glimpses behind him to see the figure coming closer and closer. With deep heavy scared breaths, Buster managed to turn a sharp corner into the dark alleyway, trying to find a hiding spot quickly.
The figure peeked around the corner to see that he's nowhere to be seen in the dark alleyway. However, without the figure knowing, Buster was hidden underneath the dumpster, watching the figure's boots stomping onto the concrete in a slow intimidating rhythm. His breathing picked up but he covered his mouth to suppress his volume. He watched the hooded figure's boots taking steps to pass by him. When the hooded figure disappeared, Buster took a moment to scan his surroundings before sighing in relief and crawled out from underneath the dumpster. He quickly got out of the dark alleyway, strolling faster than he would've when he was just taking a good walk out into the city at night.
The koala reached towards a street most familiar to him.
I might be able to get to Eddie's poolhouse before someone jumps me.
Not having his phone with him, Buster couldn't call his friend to say he's on his way to Eddie's poolhouse. The koala began to follow down the street, hoping to reach Eddie's place before whoever was following him finds him. Buster kept his shoulders tensed as he flicked glances around him. His beating heart made a sound in his eardrums as his blood began to rise. Something's coming. He kept turning and glancing around him until he became more paranoid than ever.
No. No, keep going, keep going.
His breathing became heavy as he felt a cold wind on his back. Buster's breath hitched as he stood on the sidewalk, frozen. Was someone jumping behind him?
Buster turned quickly and saw no one behind him. He gave a sigh of relief as he faced forward, his only mistake. A punch slammed into his lower jaw, shoving him against a brick wall. The koala stumbled to get back up as he saw the hooded figure with a knife out.
"You got to be kidding me," Buster said with a growl.
The figure almost stabbed him with a knife but missed his head by a few inches. Buster found an opening to escape and bolted away from the hooded assassin.
Buster began to run up the road to Eddie's poolhouse, convinced that he won't be safe unless he reached his friend's place. He heard footsteps chasing after him before he got tackled and his small body was pounded against the wall. The koala faced the hooded figure as he breathed heavily.
"Who are you?!" Buster shouted his question as if the figure could even answer it.
The figure was silent, listening to Buster's fearful pants. Before Buster could talk further, he was thrown off the street he's going on, tumbling into the dark alleyway. The koala got up but the figure was quick and kicked him in the gut harshly that his stomach did circles. Buster felt like he's going to puke as he felt another punch in the side of the head.
He fell over on his back onto the floor as the figure stepped on his neck, crushing his vocal cords while Buster tried to breathe. He glanced up in fear as he saw the figure pulling out a gun that looked too familiar to him. Buster shut his eyes to avoid the visions of whenever he sees the gun.
"Hey!!" The figure turned to a familiar voice. Buster glanced over to see Eddie with his headphones wrapped securely around his neck with an angry glare at the figure. Before the figure could do anything, Eddie charged at the figure to shove him off of Buster, who finally gained his breath back.
Eddie was fighting with the figure with a gun until the gun was able to point at his stomach and the figure pulled the trigger out of quick reaction. Buster gasped once he saw his friend shot in the stomach, causing him to collapse onto the ground and bleed.
"Eddie!" Buster cried as he crawled towards his friend to see if he's awake.
Eddie was losing consciousness as Buster glanced up to see the gun pointed at him. This was it. It's the end. He must accept his fate with his eyes closed. The gunshot sounded but it wasn't from the figure in front of him.
The blood splashed onto Buster's face as he opened his eyes and gasped to see the figure's chest bleeding. However, it didn't go for his heart. As the figure turned, the familiar gorilla punched the assassin in the face while gripping his cloak and threw him away from Buster and Eddie.
"J-Johnny?" Buster uttered in recognition.
Nooshy and Mike came besides Johnny, seeing the figure was bleeding out. The figure dropped his gun while Nooshy picked it up.
"Moon?!" Mike noticed Buster with a gasp.
"Mike?" Buster uttered as Johnny examined Eddie to see if he's okay.
Mike turned to the figure with a glare and hopped towards the figure to pull off his hood, finding a tiger under the hood. With brows narrowed, Mike pulled on the collar of the tiger assassin with a growl.
"Alright, pal!" Mike barked at the tiger. "Who are you and who are you working for?"
"Yeah!" Nooshy joined with a gun pointed at the figure. However, Mike glanced back to see her fingers were on the trigger.
"Whoa, whoa, kid, hold on," Mike replied as he helped her pull her fingers away from the trigger. "There, don't pull the trigger unless I say."
"Oh, okay." Nooshy cleared her throat and yelled, "WHO ARE YOU, AND WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR?! AND WHY ARE YOU HUNTING MR. MOON AND EDDIE?!?"
"There ya go, kid!" Mike gave her a thumbs-up as he turned back to the assassin with a glare. "Okay, pal, answer her questions. Now!"
The tiger assassin chuckled at them. "How typical. A mouse and a child threatening me with a gun."
"Just answer the questions or my little friend here will pull the trigger. And she seemed a bit too trigger happy to not shoot you," Mike referred to Nooshy behind him.
Nooshy smirked a bit.
The tiger growled at them. "My name is meaningless to the high society."
"Okay, Meaningless, it's nice to meet you. Now, who are you working for, and why are you hunting Mr. Moon?" Mike interrogated.
The tiger spat at the mouse and the lynx. It scared the lynx as her finger accidentally rested on the trigger and shot the tiger but on the outer ring of his ear.
The tiger cried out in pain as Mike tensed up a bit and turned to Nooshy.
"This is why you don't rest your fingers on the trigger," Mike cautioned Nooshy as she got her fingers off of the trigger.
Nooshy blinked. "Oops."
"That's fine, now he knows you're being serious," Mike responded abrasively as he saw the tiger looking up at both of them in fear and anger mixed in his face.
"Does she even know how to handle a gun?!" The tiger barked at Mike and Nooshy.
"Don't worry she'll learn. You're lucky she just got your ear. Maybe next time you won't be so lucky when she pulled the trigger again by accident. Now, answer the questions--"
"I rather die than tell you freaks!" the tiger snarled.
"That can be arranged," Mike responded with a glare. "After you tell us what's going on."
There's a pause as the tiger sighed deeply. "Fine."
Mike and Nooshy had their eyes widened until Mike saw a dagger. Before either of them could probe on or noted the dagger, the tiger slit his own throat, ending his own life once and for all.
Mike and Nooshy gasped in horror as the tiger assassin just smiled evilly at them and eventually exhaled his last breath.
Mike blinked. "Well, that happened."
Nooshy noticed something in the stranger's pocket as she looted him and noticed a box that she could fit into her green hoodie pocket.
"Eddie!"
Nooshy and Mike turned to see Johnny trying to wake Eddie up while Buster was trembling right next to him.
Mike and Nooshy gasped in worry as Nooshy put down the gun and gave it to Johnny to put away.
"We should call the hospital," Nooshy determined.
"Wait, no. The mob boss might have the doctors and the nurses wrapped around his finger," Mike theorized.
"Okay, now you're just being paranoid," Nooshy said with a laugh.
"I have every right to be paranoid," Mike responded defensively.
Johnny lifted Eddie up a bit while looking at the small group of people with him. "Follow me."
The koala, the mouse, and the lynx followed their gorilla friend, who's carrying an injured sheep, out of the dark alleyway.
                                                             ~.~
Johnny opened the red door to his garage and flipped on the switch to light up the place. The garage was huge with just two cars while work-out equipment was in the middle of the garage and a couch to lay on was right by the workbench.
"Okay, Nooshy, I'm going to need you to close the door and locked it," Johnny requested with injured Eddie in his arms.
Nooshy closed the door and locked it.
"Mike or Mr. Moon, I need towels, he's bleeding really badly," Johnny informed Mike and Buster.
Buster went right away to get the towels out of the drawers and carried them over to the couch.
Johnny noticed Buster holding the towels and unfolded them to have the spread on the couch as the gorilla set Eddie's bleeding body on it. Johnny walked away to wash his hands and took out the first aid kit. The gorilla came back to the couch to find Buster trying to keep his friend awake with tears in his eyes.
"Why was he going to kill you?" Eddie managed to ask, trying not to focus on his wound so much.
Buster blinked. "I-I don't know."
Johnny set the first aid kit aside with a few tools that could help him pull a bullet out of the sheep. "Okay, Eddie, this is gonna hurt. Just hold still and don't focus too much on your wound."
Eddie nodded his head as Johnny got out the tourniquets and used his big fingers to apply pressure on Eddie's wound a bit more to stop the bleeding.
Eddie threw his head back with teeth clenched and eyes shut tight.
"It's okay, it's okay, I'll get it out as quickly as I can," Johnny reassured the sheep as he glanced up at Buster. "Mr. Moon, do you mind distracting Eddie while I help with his wound?"
"No, I don't mind at all," Buster responded as he glanced down at Eddie. "Hey, Eddie, do you remember that one time we were kids and we messed with a beehive?"
"I thought it's a wasp nest. You got stung," Eddie responded with a small smile.
"You did too," Buster added with a small giggle. "Yeah, I think you're right. It's a wasp's nest because they sting us more times than bees so, it's probably a wasp's nest."
Eddie nodded while feeling the tourniquets getting inside of him, shifting uncomfortably and painfully. "Ow."
"Sorry," Johnny apologized. "I think I'm grabbing the bullet. Just keep going."
Mike noticed a bruise around Buster's neck. "You need help with the bruise, Moon?"
"Nah, I'm fine, Mike," Buster uttered while focusing on Eddie. "Do you remembered a time where we used to pick oranges from your mother's garden?"
"Yeah, they were delicious," Eddie replied with a smile, trying his best to distract himself with his conversation.
Johnny managed to pull the bullet out, earning a few pain grunts from the sheep, and placed the bullet away from him. "There." Johnny wrapped up the wound with a bandage from the first aid kit.
Eddie breathed deeply as he stared up at the ceiling. "Wow...that's incredibly painful."
"Yeah," Johnny replied.
Nooshy took out the box from the stranger she looted earlier and opened it in curiosity. Her eyes went broad as she pulled out the photos stacked on top of one another. "Uh...guys, I found something interesting on that weird assassin's body."
Buster, Mike, Eddie, and Johnny glanced over as she was able to reach out enough for the men to see the pictures with her.
The first picture they noticed was a picture of everyone getting off the bus in Catalonia.
"Bloody Mary, that must've been taken earlier today," Johnny pointed as Nooshy flipped to the next picture, which was of Buster and Rosita talking. Then, she flipped the next photo for everyone to see Buster with Johnny and Ash. Then the next photo was of Buster and Gunter, laughing at each other's jokes near the theater. Then...there's a picture of Eddie and Buster playing video games in Eddie's poolhouse.
"Uh, Mike...I think your little paranoia is on to something," Nooshy uttered with a shiver down her spine.
"Good, you noticed," Mike responded.
Johnny gasped as he noticed a pattern in these photos.
Buster blinked while tilting his head. "W-Why are they after everybody here?"
"Buster," Eddie managed to squeeze out while adjusting his position on the couch despite being injured. "I don't think they're after everybody."
Johnny glanced up at Buster. "I think they're after you, Mr. Moon."
Buster blinked, taking in the information.
                                                          ~.~
In an old apartment where old folks live, the front door became unlocked and the knob was pulled down. It was pushed open by a kind friendly old lizard with light green scales and light brown eyes, wearing a red plaid shirt covered by overalls.
"I'm home," he announced in a gentle tone as he shut the door to lock it.
"Herman," he heard his name being called by a familiar raspy voice.
"Karen?" Herman, the lizard, uttered as he followed the sound of her voice. Herman arrived at the kitchen and switched on the lights as his eyes went wide in shock at what he discovered.
"Karen!" Herman called out as he ran up to the familiar Ms. Crawly laying on the floor, bleeding out with a shattered glass from the glass sliding door around her. Her legs were bleeding while her breathing became more anxious.
"I-I can't feel my legs, Herman," Ms. Crawly replied with fearful tears shimmering in her eyes.
Herman breathed heavily in fear. "Hang on. I got you."
Herman dialed the emergency number, his body trembling to see his elderly girlfriend hurt and in pain. "Yes, my girlfriend is badly hurt. She can't feel her legs and--yes, yes, uh, 143 North Muldove Avenue. Yes...Yes. She's badly hurt. She can't feel her legs and she's scared. What do I do until you guys get here? Uh-huh...uh-huh. I'll do that. When are you--? Ten minutes? Okay, thank you."
Herman hanged up the phone as he picked Ms. Crawly up by her feet and carried her into the living room. He placed her on the couch and let her rest on the couch. Before he could leave to get ice for her legs, Ms. Crawly stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"Please, call Mr. Moon. Please," Ms. Crawly begged.
Herman nodded his head. "I'll get ice for you first then I'll call your boss for you."
Herman scampered into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of bags of ice cubes, and returned to place them on Ms. Crawly's leg, earning a painful hiss from her.
Herman dialed her boss's number quickly, breathing heavily. But all he heard were rings. He shook his head. "He's...He's not answering."
"He must be asleep. Try Johnny," Ms. Crawly urged her boyfriend as he called Johnny's number.
                                                           ~.~
Johnny felt his phone vibrate in his jacket as he pulled it out and answered it automatically.
"Hello?"
Johnny's face brightened up a bit when he heard a familiar voice. "Herman! How's it--?"
His question got interrupted instantly, his face scrunched up from confusion. "Whoa, whoa, Herman, slow down--"
When he got the caller, Herman, to slow down, Johnny's eyes went wide in horror. His breathing stopped for a moment and then it picked up again, breathing heavily.
"Bloody Mary...yeah...we'll be there. Just keep her safe," Johnny instructed with a firm nod. "Okay...bye."
Johnny hanged up the phone, gazing off while his pupils shrunk in terror.
"Johnny," Buster called, staring at him. "What happened?"
Johnny blinked once and then turned to Buster, Eddie, Mike, and Nooshy. "Ms. Crawly's hurt."
The group's eyes went wide in shock.
A few minutes later, Johnny and his friends got into his black truck, driving down the streets of Catalonia like a crazy man running from the cops.
"Whoa, Johnny, slow down!" Eddie yelled in concern but Johnny just went faster.
He swerved through the corners, almost hitting the cars around them.
"Johnny, look out!" Buster pointed at the car in front of them but Johnny dodged the car swiftly without a scratch.
"Whoa, kid, you're going to get us into a crash!" Mike warned Johnny but Johnny didn't listen.
Nooshy smiled widely, laughing for the thrills. "Whooo!! Faster!!! Faster!!!"
Johnny pressed the gas pedal hard as he finally arrived at the hospital, speeding in the parking lot and headed towards the emergency room. He swiftly slid into the empty parking spot without hitting anything except a small bump from the curb right in front of them.
The animals breathed heavily as Nooshy pumped her fists up.
"Whoo! Who's up for round two?!" Nooshy cheered as Johnny unbuckled his seatbelt.
The group ignored Nooshy's cheer while unbuckling theirs, letting Nooshy joined in as they got out of the truck and ran into the emergency room. Inside of the emergency room, Herman was just sitting in the waiting room, noticing them with wide eyes.
"I tried calling you, Mr. Moon--"
"I left my phone in my office," Buster explained quickly as Herman noticed a bruise around Buster's neck and a wound on Eddie's stomach.
"My, my, what happened?" Herman gasped in shock.
"We just got jumped. Is Ms. Crawly okay?" Buster questioned.
Herman nodded his head. "The doctors are just looking over her to make sure she's okay. I think she's in 208 if we need to see her."
Buster got ahead of everyone and entered Room 208 with the other animals behind him.
They saw Ms. Crawly laying on the hospital bed with her legs prompted up slightly for examination.
"Ms. Crawly!" Everyone exclaimed as Ms. Crawly glanced up at her group with a soft smile.
"Oh, Mr. Moon, I thought you're asleep--"
"No, I was with Johnny the whole time," Buster answered while climbing up beside her. "What happened? Who hurt you?"
"Yeah, what's their name?" Mike interrogated, earning a withering glare from Eddie.
"Whoa, what happened to your legs?" Nooshy gasped in shock.
"Who hurt you, Ms. Crawly?" Johnny jumped in out of concern for his former piano teacher.
"Whoa, whoa, guys. Give her some air and let her speak," Eddie calmed everyone down. "Go ahead, Ms. Crawly."
Ms. Crawly scratched her head as she stared up at the ceiling to think. Then she glanced back at the group. "I-I was just moon-bathing when it happened. I didn't know who hurt me or what the person looked like. The only two things I can recall was...someone just shot me in the leg and my body just froze up and...I saw someone there. I don't know who it was but...I think it's a man...with a hood. And he had a sniper rifle from what I can recall. When I saw him, I limped for the glass sliding door until he got me on my other leg. I fell, opened the door, and crawled inside. The third bullet broke through the glass and I was so scared out of my wits. Thank goodness, Herman came home before it got more intense. And...that's how he found me on the floor."
Buster turned his head to the old lizard. "Herman, were you able to hear those gunshots?"
"No...I didn't hear them," Herman uttered in fear.
Ms. Crawly edged a small reassuring smile. "It's okay. He wouldn't have because...I think the rifle had a silencer on."
"Right, since both Herman and Ms. Crawly couldn't hear them until they felt it, it's hard to hear them when you walk in," Johnny reaffirmed Ms. Crawly's theory.
The alligator doctor entered the room as the group glanced up at him.
"How is she, Doc?" Mike questioned the doctor.
The doctor sighed deeply. "We took her x-rays and removed the bullets from her legs...but the bullets broke her legs. So...she's gonna be stuck in a wheelchair for quite a while."
"For how long?" Buster asked worriedly.
"For a few weeks at best. Her femurs were both broken so...it'll take about six to eight weeks to heal," The doctor explained.
Buster breathed heavily as Ms. Crawly rubbed his arm to soothe him.
"It's going to be okay, Mr. Moon," Ms. Crawly replied.
"But...if Ms. Crawly's out for a while...who's going to be the one doing the files, stagehand, and helping with the soundboards?" Mike asked while everyone glanced up at Buster.
Buster pondered for a moment. "Honestly, guys...I don't know."
To Be Continued...
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muffindaddystyles · 3 years
Text
𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆.
I chose this prompt from the @hunflowers challenge, a halloween blurb full of scary fluff with pairing of Harry x fem!reader. Tried my best hope ya'll like it!!
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An insufferable bone chilling yowl of wind continuously knocked at the tightly bolted window of the forsaken apartment a deep sigh of emptiness anguished from a pair of lungs equally demonizing the aura of winter as y/n hissed at the pricking of bloody iceness of water that once was bubbly warm. The cosiness swallowing her body whole like a white whale into depths of oceans; screeched a scream the kettle she has put a on the stove a while ago. One after another she placed dripping cutlery utensils into basket beside the sink when she was satisfied the greasy stains were gone for real. She hurled a glance to the vacant sitting room of the apartment out of instinct, her guts startling for a moment as the coloured screen of telly roared into disturbance of grey un-uniform pixels.
Wiping the soapy palms with a rag she turns causing the humidity to woosh by her sides and the pair of eyes to hide behind the brick wall. An afflicted gasp leaves her lips and she brings her pointy finger to stick it into her mouth to slash the burn she just got on her tips due to her clumsiness and closeness to kettle. The Telly's back to broadcasting Hocus Pocus, pouring a cuppa she sweeps herself to Aegon velvet couch her back towards the window that displays nothing but a boring sight of another building and the outdoor stair spiral. Something clanged. As If there's a pile of weight hitting and ringing between the gaps of steel rods of stairs. The suspicious noise flew above her head due to the buzzing of famous Hallowen movie.
Eyelids fluttering from the taste of tea then they snap wide to her barren surroundings when a "THUD!" echoes in her living space turning her into a porcelain statue that could be shattered with a single blow. She gulps squeezing her eyes and when she slowly blinks back white spots from the fairy lights hanging at the borderline of walls lingered her vision. Another ruttling sound of window's hooks being forcefully unlocked and she quickly looks back in fear; "it's just in ye'r head." She coaxes herself as she could see no-one to illicit these noises.
But, Oh! She's so wrong.
She drags her feet from where she came from minutes ago, squinting her eyes in dull kitchen and a penumbra of tall darkness peaks from the front window over the sink. It caused her to crimson crescents into her clammy palms as the full moon creeped it's mock to her.
"AAA!" Her shrieks strangling into her throat from the utter fright and drain of senses as the unhinged window to the left of kitchen and behind her where she couldn't see slided with a cracking hum. Cold sweat breaking at her spine, knuckles catching the edges of marble and her tongue rested limb in her mouth.
The speckles of her irises reflected rims of moon when a bloody brumal hand creeped atop her mouth clamping it shut. Her heart dooming into the grave of her stomach as she felt spikey thing prodding the dimple of her back. Waterworks preparing at the bayline of her eyes and she ran her mind million miles to think of an escape only to end in the same trap.
"Gimme a kiss baby else you'll have to bear the consequences." The scratch of hoarseness halting to mellowness that calmed her down a little but a lava of annoyance boiled in her veins making her spin in the grasp, "Harry!" She whacks his chest glaring him with tensed knit brows and parted mouth.
He seems unfazed his homely dimples coveting into his milky cheeks adorably as he leaned to look in her beautiful glistening eyes properly stealing a sloppy kiss.
"Puppy." He whines tumbling onto his feet when she bit his bottom lip agonisingly in between the kiss. Deserves right.
"You scared me!" She shows him by placing his hand atop her heart which's running wild at Harry's antics and he pouts innocently but spat misheviously, "those 'ere me' intentions." He balances the pumpkin in his forearm gesturing her to come close to him as she stands with folded arms and pouty face.
"Could 'ave used the door." She murmurs timidly padding towards him.
"Would've missed the fun, sweet cherry." He chuckles resting his chin atop her head running circles at her shoulders and when she gasps a "meanie!" He gives her the same doe pupils and wide parted lips mimicking her, "sometimes gotta be babe."
"You should be glad, I love you jerkface." At this he tugs her close smauching a loud wet kiss to her balmed lips, he gives her a soft smile "let's carve some eh?" He shows her the pumpkin and she nods beamingly.
She let the stove on after handing a cuppa to harry (along a kiss on forehead) so that their would be some warmth while they sit on the kitchen tiles figuring out how to carve the pumpkin.
His daddy long legs sprawled relaxingly infront of him, his tongue poking out from the concentration and she giggles when a hickory curl of his's kept on falling at the arc of his brow disturbing him.
"Glaring him wouldn't help baby." She quips brushing the curl back tucking it into his bun and he grins puckering his lips for her sweetness he always craves. Shaking her head at his love-sickness she cups his jaw giving him an eskimo kiss accompanied by a hot, stroking passionate kiss on mouth.
She cringes squeaking in his mouth when he leaves a long stripe of gooe over her cheek and when she retorts away he catches her wrist with his sticky hands deepening the kiss making her moan into his sacchariness.
"You're a one cheeky mother-fudger." She nibbles on the soft flesh of his earlobe knees nudging his's and she feels fuzzy trying to get more closer to him. "Enough of ye'r horniness can't ye' see 'm tryin' to work?" She groans and harry finds it so endearing. A disgusting squirting noise billows when she shoves her hand into open head pumpkin taking full of gooey stickness and throwing it at Harry.
He looks down to his chest with comic stern eyes pointing at it and she just shrugged giving him challenging expression. This's how they ends up having a pumpkin seed fight, it sticked to their hair, clothes and skin.
She squeals in her laughter scooching back on her ass when he crawls on his fours towards her, "don't you dare come near me!!" She says in between her breaths but her threat in vain as she toppled onto floor with Harry on her top.
"Wha' ye'r gonna do bout it, huh?" He slams both his palms at the either side of her temple and she squints open her one eye, "no. no. no." she mutters only grunting in defeat at the end when Harry nuzzles his cheeks to her's, practically rubbing all of himself against her.
"Yuck. You gutter monster!" Her voice muffled into the crook of his neck when he showered her in disgustingly cute little kisses, starting from the apples of her cheeks, her chin multiple times and her eyelids leaving no spot un-moisturised. He cackles loudly instead tilting her jaw to meet his lips with the help of his both thumbs.
She moans in the kiss when he grinds his hips against her pelvis and when she bucks herself for more friction he moves away taking the previous knife into his hands, leaning against the cabinet and taking the pumpkin back in his lap.
"Not fair." She grumps sitting crossed legs infront of him. A fluttering grin breaking through her act when he carved a little smile and two little stitch button eyes of the pumpkin.
"Wha' d'ya say looks scary?" He asks with a grin and a thumbs up knowing too well about his own cheeky antics, "looks like his mummy's bout to tuck him to sleep in a baby blanket."
"Well, good for him." She rolls her eyes standing up as he helps her so leading both of them to sitting room, "can't believe 'm dating a five years old." At that moment Winifred Sanderson spoke from the telly.
"I put a spell on you and now you're mine." Harry snaps his fingers pointing at the telly lifting his puppy up into a squishing hug ready to have hot bath after.
"Wini's absolutely right, puppy. I put a spell on you and now you're all mine...." A long pause and he smirks down at her, "...to eat."
.
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chaseatinydream · 3 years
Text
pirate king (12) || atz
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The two of you stop outside a dark, smoky cabin.
It’s dark now, the sun having sunk behind the waves a while ago, the moon taking its place in the sky. Shifting shadows are cast in the gloom of the shop, and the dead snakes hanging at the doorway really isn’t encouraging you to go in any further.
You turn to stare at Jongho dubiously.
“To be fair,” Jongho says as he looks over at the eerie, shoddy establishment with equally doubtful eyes. The rickety bamboo frame looks like it could collapse on itself any moment. “It didn’t look this creepy the last time I was here.”
You swallow uncomfortably. “Maybe we should go back-”
“There is no fear in stepping forward, only moving back…” A hiss comes from deep within the shack and you jump, hand clenching around Jongho’s wrist in a vice grip. A bead of cold sweat slides down your neck and you turn to the young battlemaster with a silent plea in your eyes.
He nudges you towards the entrance gently. “I’ll be with you. There’s no need to be scared.”
That does make you feel better about your chances of leaving the dingy building alive, but you still don’t feel very eager to step inside. With Jongho’s hand on your back, you step cautiously into the fortune teller’s booth.
The small space is dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering stubs of candles on the rough wooden table at the very back. Even as short as you are, you have to stoop underneath many of the strange things hanging from the ceiling. You hear Jongho’s muffled cursing behind you as he bumps into everything and anything in his way, things that you’re lucky to have been small enough to avoid.
There’s a small hearth at the side, coals still glowing red from a recently put out fire. Dried herbs and animal parts lie scattered everywhere on the floor, and to your left you see a stack of wooden cages stacked upon each other, every one holding some sort of rodent or gigantic spider. You inhale nervously and the pungent smell of burnt hair and animal excrement fills your lungs.
But there is no sign of the fortune teller.
You glance nervously at Jongho, who’s dusting the cobwebs from his shoulders. “It seems like she isn’t here-”
“Customers...” You shriek in horror as you see a pile of rags that had definitely been unmoving just seconds before burst into life, wheeling backwards as hysteria washes over you for a moment. Then Jongho catches you from the back firmly with strong arms, and calm washes gently over you once more. You catch your breath slowly.
“We’re here for a reading.” The young battlemaster’s voice is unwavering. You can’t quite make out her face underneath the tattered hood she’s wearing, but you can smell her breath all the way from across the table and see the light reflected in her near maniacal eyes. The fortune teller grins to reveal a mouth of yellowing teeth.
“Sit!” She demands, pointing dramatically a rickety seat in front of the table. You eye it doubtfully, unsure whether that can really hold your weight considering that it looks like it’s on the verge of collapse, but Jongho nods you forward.
Surprisingly, the seat doesn’t shatter under you.
“Fortune favours the fair.” The fortune teller leans across the table to take a closer look at you. You can count every single decaying tooth in her mouth, she’s much too close for comfort. Your skin crawls with goosebumps as you feel her eyes rake across your face.
“Don’t touch him.” Jongho snaps, his unyielding hand stopping the fortune teller in her tracks. She hisses at him, more animal than human, slinking back into her seat like a feline.
You clear your throat nervously, even though you’re honestly terrified at this point. You can feel phantom fingers brushing up your spine and neck and there’s an unsettling feeling in your stomach that feels like a coiling snake.
“You’re a fortune teller?”
“A magician, dearie.” The way she says it, so sickly sweet, sends a shiver down your spine. The room seems to drop in temperature. “It depends on what you want to know.”
“How much will a reading be?” Jongho cuts across her and the woman doesn’t look at him, eyes instead fixated on you. You don’t like it at all.
“You have a pretty face, my sweet.” The old hag croons, stroking your face with bony, coarse fingers. You resist the urge to scream out loud as ice creeps over in your veins. “I’ll give it to you free.”
Then a knife flashes out of nowhere.
This time, a scream does leave your lips, but then you realise that she’s only hacked off the end of your braid, leaving your hair tumbling around your face to above your shoulders in messy waves. Jongho’s hand clenches around the hilt of his cutlass. “One more time, magician, and the next thing getting cut is your neck.”
“You young ones are so skittish, like mice…” The wizened crone cackles as she hobbles to the fire, breaking a few twigs and setting them alight in a bowl. A strange, heady fragrance begins to fills the room, the air seeming to thicken as smoke spirals between you. You cough at the smell and spot the fortune teller sniffing your hair appreciatively.
You try your best to force down the bile in your throat.
With the same dagger she’d just used to cut your hair, she stabs an unfortunate rodent from a cage and you wince at its dying shriek. Its blood splatters across the table and seeps into the wood. You wonder exactly how many fortune and deaths it has seen.
The fortune teller then tears a sprig of dried plant from a bundle of herbs. Mistletoe, you recognise from your many lessons with San. She throws it over the fire and holds her hand out expectantly.
“Your finger.”
“She’s going to take my finger?” You whip around to stare at Jongho in horror, but by then the fortune teller has already grabbed your hand and yanked you forward.
To your relief, she simply pierces the tip of your index and squeezes three drops of your blood into the bowl. Then you hear San in your head lecturing you about the filth and dirt and grime and how you’re going to die from a thousand different illnesses and you shrink back into yourself, trying to clean the wound as well as possible as the fortune teller throws in a few strands of your hair, tucking the rest in her sleeves.
The fortune teller suddenly tosses everything in the bowl into the fire and to your shock, the flames turn bright green. You scramble backwards, nearly falling off your chair, but Jongho steadies you by the shoulders, hands warm against your freezing body.
“Watch.” He says seriously, and so you do.
The fortune teller leans over the fire, inhaling deeply for a long moment. When she speaks again, her voice is soft, disembodied, as if she is underwater.
“Oh nameless one…”
Your eyes fly wide with shock at her first words. How does she know that you have no name?
“Child of the sea… you’re missing something very, very important to you… The secret you keep will ruin the trust you have built...”
Goosebumps prickle on your skin. You thought this witch merely wove fortunes that people wanted to hear, but she seems like so much more than that. Her eyes slowly blink open to stare at you with wide, dark eyes.
“To pass the trial, one must cross into death and awaken in life.” The fortune teller shudders, her arms trembling from the effort of holding her trance. “The biggest obstacle to overcome is yourself… I see a jewel resting in a jar of clay… Clay!”
“Clay?” You repeat after her, puzzled, but then she lunges for you before either you or Jongho can react. Her bony hands grab for your collar in a vice grip, her eyes searching your face hungrily. A scream leaves your mouth as you try to pry her from you.
“Let go of him!” Jongho snarls, but the little shack is too small for him to reach around you to remove the fortune teller's hands. The old woman ignores him completely, fingers stroking at your cheeks and nose haphazardly.
“How beautiful you are.” She breathes almost reverently, completely ignoring your frantic struggling and fear creeps over your skin. “I never thought it was possible, that I would see one like you… One as perfect as you…”
What?
“What are you saying, you old hag?” Jongho snaps, trying to remove her from you, but her grip on you is surprisingly strong.
“Such a new creation, such a perfect work of art!” The fortune teller almost sobs, and at this point terror seizes you. “I can't believe I got to lay eyes on a vessel that has only existed for a moon!”
Your heart stops beating inside your chest.
Jongho stills besides you, deathly silent. “What did you say?”
“Who made you?” She begs you, shaking you back and forth. You simply stare at her blankly, unable to comprehend what she's saying. Made you? What did she mean, made you? As in your mother? The person who had given birth to you?
As if in answer, the necklace you wear around your neck slips out of your shirt, and everything stands still for a moment.
Maybe it’s because you’re so close to the fortune teller, but you see every expression that crosses her face. First curiosity, then recognition, then shock. Her eyes fly open, as if she’s just been struck by some sort of divine revelation and her pupils instantly dilate with raw fear, the black almost swallowing the brown of her irises.
The fortune teller shrieks and yanks her hands back from you as if she's been burned. “You're one of hers! Leave! Leave before she finds me!” You’re too shocked to move.
Hers?
“Let's go.” Jongho urges you, clearly as stunned by the encounter as you are but in control of his wits a million times more than you’ll ever be. But you fight your way back to the fortune teller, who's slumped in a pile of rags against the wall.
“Who is she? And what do you mean by 'who made me’?” Your voice cracks at the last question, torment ripping at you from the inside. What did she mean, made?
“Leave me be!” The woman screeches and Jongho claps his hands over his ears. The people walking past outside must think that there's a murder going on. “I have no wish to meet your mistress!”
Mistress?
Desperation snaps in you. You have no idea what she's talking about, but you need answers to the hundred questions spilling over in your mind.
“Answer me or I'll stay here till she comes for you!”
“You fool!” The woman wheezes, curling into a ball. “I am unworthy of looking upon her face, the one who you have made a deal with, the sea witch!”
Deal.
“What deal?” You snap, furious. The one clue you have to who you are, and she's unwilling to tell you what it is. You made a deal? A deal for what?
Sea witch.
Jongho clearly has had enough of this voodoo talk, because he pulls on your hand a little more insistently. “Come on, let's go.”
“How do I find her?” You shout at the fortune teller, as you're dragged out of the shop. “Tell me!”
The old crone meets your gaze one last time, her eyes crinkling with madness. “You don't find her. She finds you!” She cackles aloud, shaking her head and rocking back and forth like a woman possessed. The glint in her eyes has turned crazed, unhinged, completely off her rocker. On the other hand, her voice remains strong and steady.
“But I'll tell you one last thing, my love.”
You jerk forward, insistent on hearing whatever her last words are to you.
“You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.”
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gothgirlmahi · 4 years
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Prize
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Dark!Thor x reader
Summary: You’re found by a hunting party in the woods. The king wants to take you as a trophy. Warnings: Non con, dub con, Thor’s huge...hammer
The bindings dug into you, leaving angry red marks of blood and bruises across your skin. Sharp edges of tree bark cut into your back any time you tried to move and even when you didn’t. You had no idea how long you’d been there. The only direction you could see was up, to the tops of trees and the sky above. Your throat was dry and aching from rope burn and thirst. The darkening sky stared down at you, mocking your pitiful situation.
A virgin sacrifice. That’s what they called it. Your people were religious, perhaps overly so. The rainy season had come and gone without much rain. This year’s harvest was minimal and people were starving. So they picked up a time honored tradition to kill two birds with one stone. A sacrifice would appease the gods and give them one less mouth to feed. And it had to be you.
Your fear picked up as night fell. They had truly left you here to die. There were no gods in the forest. The only end for you was a slow death, either from starvation or an animal happening upon you. You laid there for hours, shaking from the cold in your flimsy white gown and hoping, praying for a swift death.
When the sky was black and tear drops wetted your cold cheeks, you heard a noise in the forest. The rustling of leaves, the breaking of twigs...the whinny of horses? You didn’t know hunters came to this forest. To be fair, you hardly knew there was anything on the planet other than this forest as you had never been anywhere else.
The bindings didn’t allow you much room to move your neck, so you couldn’t see where they were. It seemed that they were approaching from somewhere behind you. You couldn’t tell how many there were, but there were several voices speaking amongst each other jovially. Maybe they weren’t hunters. They were much too loud to be. 
You were caught in what you should do. Perhaps call out for help and possibly be rescued? At the same time, that posed heavy risk. A group of men out at night, coming upon a virgin woman tied to a tree? Some might take it as an invitation. They could take turns violating you and kill you anyway to cover their tracks. The risk was too likely. You knew no one out at this time made it a habit of saving waylaid maidens. Your best option was to stay quiet and hope they didn’t see you.
As they got closer, your heart pounded in your chest. It seemed they were still headed in your direction. Out of all the ways they could take through this gods forsaken forest, it had to be the path that led directly to you. You tried to still yourself from shivering against the cold, not wanting to make any movement that could alert them, but your body was aching, sore and you were so hungry. Maybe you could barter with them. You supposed your virtue wasn’t worth slowly starving to death.
“Help,” you tried to call out. Your voice was faint and you could scarcely hear it yourself. You tried a few times more, getting louder with each call and you heard their conversation stop. Their horses got closer to you and as they rounded the tree, you could look down and see their faces, the tops of their heads and armor. The blond one in front, strong and handsome, was staring at you curiously. There were four men on horses behind him, looking confused and intrigued.
“What do we have here?” The blond asked, smiling a bit. One behind him scoffed, a black haired man that looked indifferent the whole situation.
“A sacrifice perhaps. Virgin. Boring.”
Boring? You could be boring. You would be whatever got you out of these restraints.
The blonde laughed before dismounting his horse and disappearing from your view.
“Don’t be so mean. Clearly this young lady has had a rough night,” he said from somewhere below you.
“Please. Help,” you repeated.
“Hush, now. I’m only getting my knife.” You heard him unsheathe the knife and felt him move closer. He cut the rope around your neck first, letting your head fall forward and you cried out in pain. Now you were able to look down as he cut the rest of the ropes. You were caught between staring at his hair, his elegant armor and the way his strong hands let the knife glide through your bindings. By the time he had untied you, you had hardly recognized that you were falling.
You screeched, thinking you would tumble to the unforgiving forest floor but instead you were caught and pulled into his warm chest. When his hands touched your skin he frowned.
“You’ll freeze to death like this.” He laid you down on the ground and you nearly cried from the pain and numbness of the cold. Then you saw him taking his cloak off. He picked you up gently again and wrapped you in his furs. The warmth relaxed you immeasurably though you were still scared of what would happen. 
“Thor, can we move this along? We do have a schedule to keep.”
You were starting to not like the black haired one.
“Loki, shut up,” the blonde chided before picking you up and setting you on his horse. He got on in front of you and urged you to put your arms around him. You did so weakly and the party marched on. The horse was quick, quick enough to make you feel a bit ill but you tried to distract yourself from your nausea. Your distraction came in the form of your own exhaustion as you fell asleep, holding tightly to the man in front of you.
After riding for a while you were in a half sleep state and noticed lights in the darkness. When you looked up, your eyes were drawn to a shimmering palace in the distance. You thought for a moment it was a figment of your unconscious mind and didn’t think further as sleep caught you once more.
You woke up again after hearing voices.
“What’s this?” A man asked. You still didn’t look up, just kept your head buried in the fur of the cloak. Thor shifted slightly in front of you.
“A prize. Half dead but a lot prettier than a buck. No complaints from me.”
A prize. You were his prize. 
You all rode a bit further before stopping again. Thor dismounted the horse and pulled you off as well. He didn’t even let you attempt to stand, just pulled you over his shoulder and started hauling you away. You looked around, noticing you were in a stable. Stable hands scurried around, taking the horses of the men and tending to them. Thor was taking long strides and soon you were out of the building and into another. You passed through an ornately decorated but empty corridor.
Finally Thor stopped at a door and peered in.
“Excuse me,” he announced his presence. You couldn’t see as you were slung over his shoulder and your head was bouncing around near his back, brushing his armor.
“Good evening, your majesty. May I assist?”
“Yes. Take this woman and bathe her, dress her well and bring her to my table. Can you do this?”
“Of course, your majesty.”
“Treat her well.”
“I will, your majesty. You can put her on the bed and I will bring her to you.”
Thor walked across the room and gently put you down on a soft surface. You basically collapsed from exhaustion and sprawled on the bed. He leaned down to kiss your cheek before rubbing his cloak between his fingers.
“Take care of this for me?”
You nodded. He patted your shoulder and left. You turned and noticed the older woman next to you, looking very stately in her lavender gown and intricate hairstyle. She looked at you disapprovingly. 
“I’ll run your bath. You smell like the woods. You’ll be a proper woman in no time.”
And she was right. She very roughly cleaned you, enough that parts of your skin were raw. You were doused in oils and perfumes. You hair was washed and styled. The woman dressed you in a deep red gown, with a neckline much lower than you would ever be comfortable with. You stood in the mirror awkwardly admiring how beautiful you looked but being uncomfortable at the same time. Before you could ruminate on your appearance further, she was dragging you out of the room by your arm. The quick movements had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet but you kept pace with her. You approached a set of doors and she stopped abruptly.
“You will dine with the king. He likes red so I do hope this appeases him.”
She pushed open the doors to a sensory overload. The golden chamber was filled with people talking, laughing and drinking. A bard danced about in the corner playing a song. At the center of the room was a large table covered in things you could never even imagine. A bountiful table filled with food. Meats you had never seen.  Vegetables that couldn’t even be grown in your stupid village. And there was just so much of it. To think people lived like this as you spent years starving somehow made you even less hungry than you were. 
Across the room, you caught sight of Thor and headed towards him. The drunken masses paid you no mind as you traversed the chamber. Thor’s eyes met yours and he gave you a smile, beckoning you over with a hand wave. You hurried your gait until you were no more than a foot in front of him.
“Oh, my sweet flower. Don’t you look good enough to eat. Though I suppose I should save that for later. Take a seat and dine with me.”
Thor pulled you down on his lap and pulled his plate to you.
“Eat,” he commanded. You listened, inspecting your choices and picking through. Thor seemed content enough to watch as you ate. You had to admit you were starting to feel a bit better. Even before being left to starve in the forest you were still hungry.
You ate until you couldn’t anymore and Thor laughed when you groaned, putting a firm hand on your thigh. There wasn’t a time you could recall being full. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation, but you liked it better than being hungry. Your eyes were drawn to the bard and his song.
“Drink,” Thor said, close enough that you could feel his breath in your ear. You nodded again, taking down some of the bitter liquid in his tankard. Warmth pooled in your belly and you sighed at the sensation. Thor’s hand wandered further down and below your gown. You tensed. He ignored your reaction and trailed up your leg slowly, stopping when he got between your thighs.
“Don’t stop feasting on my account,” he whispered, placing a finger on your clit. You gasped and tried to clasp your thighs together but Thor pulled them apart. His fingers gently rubbed at you and you could feel your arousal growing. Your cheeks burned in humiliation but no one seemed to be paying attention to you anyway. Everyone was concerned with their own entertainment.
His hand dipped lower, pushing into you slightly and gathering some of your juices. He pulled back up to rub against your clit and you moaned, holding onto the edge of the table. The only person who had ever touched you like that was yourself and here was this stranger doing it better than you ever could.
You ground into his hand and he quickened his movements.
“So docile. Compliant. Innocent and sweet. When I take you, you’ll scream for me. Scream for your king. But for now I’ll make you come on my hand. Because you’re that desperate for it. Because it’s what you need.”
You were close, panting and your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. Stars exploded in your vision and before you could scream, Thor’s hand was over your mouth muffling it. You thrust against his hand, twitching and shaking as you rode out your orgasm against him. He kissed your neck before pulling his hand from under your gown.
“I think I’m ready for bed. Aren’t you, little one?”
The trip to his chambers was a blur. He pulled you over his shoulder again before walking out of the room. A quick goodbye was said by a few but there was mostly no reaction to his hasty departure.
He threw you on the bed and started to undress himself.
“From the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted to take you. A perfect maiden, left out for me to find.”
You were panicked and teary eyed as he pulled his trousers down, revealing his manhood. There was never a point you imagined losing your virginity like this. Maybe with your husband. Maybe even a lover you chose. But to a man who found you in the forest? A man who didn’t even know your name.
He undressed you just as quickly. You made attempt to cover yourself but he laughed and pulled your arms away. Thor stepped off the bed and pulled you with him, forcing you to kneel in front of him. 
As you became eye level with his cock, you wanted to scream. You had never seen a man like this before. You weren’t even sure how that thing could fit inside you. There was just too much of him. 
“Come here, sweetling. Give it a kiss.”
You crawled over to him, clumsy and shaking. He smiled. Your hands set carefully on his hips and you stared up at him.
“Put it in your mouth. Be careful with your teeth.”
Your hands shook as you held him, but you opened your mouth and went down until you could feel him hit the back of your throat. His length was immense in your mouth and you were sure you could only fit about half of him.
He moaned, sliding back and forth between your lips for a while while you tried to avoid hurting him with your teeth. He grabbed the back of your head and tried to push you further. When he went past your throat you struggled, trying to push against him but he kept going until you were choking and sputtering around his length. He stopped when he was mostly down your throat and held you sternly.
“Stop. Breathe through your nose. Relax.”
You tried to comply and it got a bit better, allowing him to slide the rest of himself down your throat. His hips were at your face, blocking even the air you got through your nose. Before you could panic, he was sliding out again. You took the opportunity to breathe before he slammed back in roughly, finding a quick pace to fuck your face.
Both of his hands held the back of your head as he fucked your throat. The moans tearing from him were sinful and the noises of his pleasure spurred your own. You were already wet from him playing with you at dinner so this only added to your arousal. You knew you shouldn’t have been turned on by it but the raw power of him was enticing. 
A mixture of saliva and tears glided down your face and neck as you let him use you.
He stopped abruptly and pulled out. His face was flush with pleasure but he looked frustrated as he picked you up from the floor and threw you on the bed again.
“As much as I love your mouth, that’s not where I intend to cum. I want to leave my seed deep inside you.”
His words stirred something inside you. You laid back compliantly, legs open, waiting for him to act on his desire. 
His eyes strayed to your unblemished thighs and the virtue held between them. You were his gift, given to him and he intended to make full use of you. You trembled as he approached and stroked down your calves gently. When he got to your ankle he tugged and pulled you closer to him. He was laid in front of you between your thighs, just staring. If you weren’t so aroused, you were sure you’d be mortified to have this god of a man staring at your soaked core. 
He gave a few kitten licks to your clit and you instinctively pulled him closer by his long hair.
“Thor, please,” you pleaded. He looked up at you, smiling as he used his thumb to rub at your clit. 
“You don’t have to beg, kitten. I’ll let you have your release. Just not with my mouth. I think it’s time we solved the issue of your maidenhood.”
He pushed himself to kneel between your thighs, stroking at his length as he stared down at you. You unconsciously held your breath waiting for him to move. Tears were still running steadily down your face.
Thor slammed into you completely, his hips meeting yours and you screamed like you were being murdered. It felt like you were being killed, anyway. Being split in half. Being impaled by this man. You cried and screamed but Thor pet you gently and whispered soft words in attempt to calm you. When you regained your sense, you pushed at him. All you wanted was him out of you. It hurt too much.
Thor took both your hands in one of his and pushed them above you.
“Shh. I know it hurts. It’s better to just get through with it than prolong the pain. I promise it will be better soon.”
You whimpered and shook in pain for what seemed like hours and Thor patiently waited for your sins to subside. When they did, he pulled out and thrusted in again gently. He did it until you stopped crying out and picked up a rhythm. His hands released yours and went to your hips, grabbing tightly enough to bruise. He drove into you like a man possessed and moaned his own pleasure.
“So fucking tight around me. Perfect. A perfect woman. My woman. You’re mine. You belong to me and I’m keeping you.”
One of his thrusts had your eyes rolling back. He repeated it when you groaned in pleasure.
“Oh, is that it? Do not worry, your king is generous and will provide for you.”
He kept pushing into you from that angle and brushed his thumb against your clit. Your back arched and you squirmed around, honestly not knowing if you wanted to get away from him or get closer. It just felt so good. You could feel your climax quickly approaching.
Thor pushed one of your legs over his shoulder and pushed himself even deeper into you while groaning into your skin.
“Dirty girl. You won’t be so innocent soon. Not after you come on my cock. Not after I fill you with my seed. I can’t wait to see you, growing with my heirs inside you. Breeding your tight cunt night after night.”
You were delirious, babbling his name and spasming around his cock as you came. The pleasure had your legs shaking and back arched so your chests were firmly pressed against each other. Thor groped one of your breasts and bit into your leg gently.
“Your cunt is squeezing me so tight. Such a good girl for your king. Such a pretty little prize I found.”
He groaned again and you were filled with his hot seed, so much that it spilled out around your thighs and onto the bed. Thor pulled you on top of him without pulling out of you. Your sweat soaked skin stuck to his and you squirmed in discomfort from the ache in your lower regions.
“You’ve done well, sweet girl. You’ve served your king well.”
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underfell-crystal · 3 years
Text
Ok, I've decided to turn this post into an actual coherent 'short' story.
This is a FNAF story inspired by a nightmare I had last night primarily focused around FNAF Security Breach and will be told from a first person perspective. I recommend you go watch the trailer if you haven't already.
TW: Descriptions of gore, death, and blood.
~~FNAF Security Breach: Back to the Past~~
It had been nearly a decade since your brother went missing at a Freddy Fazbear's pizzaria. The details of the incident escaped you, as you'd been fairly young at the time, but you remembered the confusion and fear on your parents' faces when they realized your brother was nowhere to be found. Your parents had recounted all they remembered from that day multiple times, but as the years went by, they began to lose hope in finding him. Honestly, if your friend Petra hadn't suggested looking around the old mall Fazbear Entertainment had owned, you would have given up by now too.
You and Petra didn't want to go into a creepy, abandoned, and possibly haunted mall alone, so you had brought backup: Quin and Zion, two friends who were always down for urban exploring and had actually explored some Fazbear locations in the past. This exploration had been planned over the course of several days, and unfortunately the four of you came to the conclusion that going around midnight would be the best option, since people were less likely to be driving by and notice Petra's rusty car in the abandoned parking lot. You sighed and glanced at your curly-haired friend in the driver's seat.
"Are you ready?"
Petra nodded, glancing in the rear view mirror at the two in the backseat, who looked far too excited for this. "Alright people, let's move."
Zion and Quin jumped out of the car, flashlights and backpacks ready to go, chattering excitedly about what they thought they would find. You and Petra slid out of the car, and you took that moment to look up at the dark mall looming above you. There was a threatening aura about it, something that was usually muted when you drove past it during the day. You felt a shiver crawl down your spine and shook yourself, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets and starting toward the museum with your friends at your heels.
As you got closer to the mall, the sound of Zion and Quin's chattering died down. Using some bolt cutters, Petra made quick work of the padlock keeping you from the secrets stored inside the old Fazbear mall. The four of you stepped inside the mall, breaking the deafening silence that had permeated the building. Once you were out of sight from any potential passing cars, the four of you clicked on your flashlights. Quin and Zion had volunteered to check out the upper levels of the mall beforehand, and they quickly made their way over to the broken escalators, leaving you and Petra to explore the first floor.
The first floor was pretty interesting. There was an arcade with no games, an ice cream shop with mold coming out of the old machines, a gift shop with a lone bear plushie (Petra claimed it was an animatronic called Glamrock Freddy that used to perform in the mall), and an enormous stage. It was the stage that piqued both of your interests for some unknown reason. You both stood below the edge of the stage and shone your flashlights around. You felt... unsettled. Something about this stage specifically made your hairs stand on end. There was something viscerally wrong about this place, and you didn't like it one bit. Petra didn't have the same reluctance you did, and boosted herself up onto the stage. She turned to you and motioned for you to come closer. "C'mon! Maybe there's a trapdoor up here!"
You looked around anxiously. "Petra, I don't know... This place is super freaky. Can't we just meet up with Zion and Quin?"
"Oh, don't be such a weenie! C'mon! Just for a minute! Pleeeeeaaaaassseeee?"
You groaned inwardly. Petra was extremely stubborn, and she almost always got her way. If you refused, she'd probably drag you up there herself. "Fiiiiiine."
She beamed and held out her hand to you, which you grasped and used to pull yourself up onto the stage. Unfortunately, your momentum was too much, and you ended up colliding with Petra, sending you both tumbling onto the rickety stage. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the dull gray metal of the old stage.
You didn't know how much time had passed when you were awoken by someone roughly shaking you. "Hey. Hey!! Wake up!!"
You groaned and sat up, rubbing your head and looking around. Your three friends were in front of you, fearful looks on their face. Petra grabbed you in a tight hug and let out an anxious breath. "Jeez, you idiot, you scared us!"
You rubbed your nose. "Ow.... wha...?"
That's when it hit you. You weren't in total darkness anymore. You looked around and saw that the mall was now covered in neon signs and looked.... brand new? How?? Your friends noticed your bewilderment. Quin spoke up first. "We have no idea what happened! Me and Zion went into a merch store, and when we came out, the mall was renovated and you and Petra were passed out on the stage! We thought the animatronics got you!"
You gaped at your surroundings. "H...... How? How did this happen?? How is this POSSIBLE?!"
Nobody had an answer to that. Then you paused. "Wait.... animatronics?"
Zion pointed behind you, and you swiveled your head and nearly jumped out of your skin with a muffled shriek. There were four animatronics only a few feet away, blinged out in 80's rock accessories. There was a green alligator with star glasses, a pink mohawk, and a guitar, a wolf with a green streak in its 'hair' and a piano keyboard thing, a pink chicken with a bow at the base of its 'hair' and a guitar, and a bear with a microphone and a blue 'mask'. They looked shiny and polished, like the rest of the mall. It was unnerving to go from a dirty, musty, abandoned mall to whatever the Hell THIS was.
You turned away from the animatronics, suppressing a shudder. "Okay.... we need to leave NOW."
The other three were quick to nod in agreement. You stood up and the four of you jumped off the stage and started booking it for the entrance. Only there was no entrance. You could feel desperation beginning to claw its way up your throat as the others stopped and stared in shock at the place that used to have the doors to the parking lot. Zion spoke up first. "I don't care how new this place feels, I'm getting out of here through a window if I have to."
Zion seized a nearby potted plant and hefted it over their head before throwing it at a window, to which it promptly bounced off and landed on the ground at your feet. All four of you gaped at the perfectly unharmed window for a moment before scrambling to find something heavy to throw at the window. Quin used their flashlight, Petra used the bolt cutters she'd been carrying around, and you and Zion used potted plants. But nothing worked. There wasn't even a scratch on the window. Petra's voice was on octave higher than normal as she spoke after several minutes of fruitless attempts to break the window. "Let's just call our parents! It's better to just get in trouble!"
Quin whipped out their phone, the screen lighting up their face. They tapped a few times and held the phone up to their ear, but their face fell a few seconds later. Zion pressed their ear to the phone and listened in for a moment before looking at you and Petra, horrified. "It's saying the number doesn't exist."
You choked. "Wha-?! But it has to exist!"
You, Zion, and Petra snatched up your phones and tried to text and call your parents, but with the same results. The calls and texts weren't going through. You checked the time. 11:59 already? You sighed and rubbed your face. This was too weird. This shouldn't even be happening!
DONG.
The four of you jumped and looked up, where an enormous clock was hanging in the upper window. It read 12:00.
There was a loud screeching sound, like metal being dragged across metal. The four of you winced and covered your ears. After a few agonizing seconds, the screeching stopped. Petra clicked on her flashlight and slowly began to make her way towards the noise, despite your angry whisper-squawking. She poked her head out from behind the corner before turning to look at you with wide, terrified eyes. "They're gone," she whispers.
You take your own quick glance at the stage and feel an icy shiver race down your spine. Sure enough, the animatronics are gone. You look at your three friends, huddled together in a scared clump. You feel a spark of determination. You're going to get your friends out of this alive. You decide to try the upper level windows to see if they'll break and motion for your friends to follow you. The four of you slowly make your way up the broken escalators, but when you stand up, there's an animatronic in your peripheral vision. You turn your head and stumble back a little with a strangled gasp. It's the wolf. It's jaw is open and unhinged. Petra hisses 'shit!', and takes a step back. The wolf lunges forward faster than you can blink and grabs Petra, gripping her neck with one hand and her waist with the other, then rips. Petra screams for a moment, but then the screaming stops. There's blood everywhere. Petra's head is still in the wolf's claws. There's something warm and wet on your face. You hear someone throw up. You hear someone else scream "SCATTER!!"
You don't think twice. You want to get away from that nightmarish scene. You turn and bolt back down the escalator. But there's something blocking your way. You recognize the mohawk and the star shaped glasses. You see it reaching for you, and you don't waste any time leaping over the side of the escalator. Pain shoots through your legs as you land on the ground, but you barely register it. You're up and sprinting the moment you hit the floor. You can hear loud metal footsteps behind you, and you can tell they're going faster than you. The gator is going to catch up to you. You're going to end up like Petra. You turn into a different section of the mall and spot something odd- the Freddy animatronic. It looks to be deactivated.
You're desperate and out of options. You run towards the animatronic and spy a button on the side of it's chest. You smash it, and the chest cavity swings open. You don't have time to question why this is a thing. You climb into the chest cavity and pull the door shut. You hear the gator's heavy footsteps pass you by, and you sigh in relief. Once you're sure you're safe, you climb out of Freddy's chest cavity and start looking for a way out again. You try whisper-calling to your friends, but nobody answers. You hide behind abandoned carts, in stores, and behind garbage cans whenever the animatronics start to get closer.
Nearly two hours later, you hear singing. It sends chills down your back. The tune is haunting and slow, but loud and clear. Someone singing in this place has to be a serial killer or incredibly stupid. You're willing to bet it's the first option. You poke your head out from behind the trash can and see someone in what looks to be an animal costume skipping down the hall, swinging a knife in one hand. Before you can duck out of sight, the red eyes on the mask lock onto you. You scramble to your feet, intent on running away, but the person in the animal suit is faster. In an instant, they're on top of you- literally. They pin your arms above your head with one hand and raise the knife over your neck, red eyes blank. You scream in terror and kick the person in the chest, throwing them off of you. You leap to your feet as they're standing up and start running. You feel something rip, then something warm and sticky on your arm. You look down as you run and realize it's blood. The person in the animal suit must have slashed you as you ran away.
You can hear the singing behind you, though it's getting quieter as you bolt through the mall. You hide in one of the stores, using a dusty shirt as a makeshift bandage for your injured arm. As the next three and a half hours pass, you jump from hiding place to hiding place, trying to avoid the animatronics and the psychopath on the loose. Finally, you spot an emergency exit- but the wolf is nearby. You can still see blood on its hands. You're unsure whether to risk it or not. You could get out of here if you make it, but who's to say it's not openable like some other doors? The wolf turns away from you, and you decide to take the opportunity. You stand up and begin to quietly sneak towards the exit. Suddenly, the wolf's head snaps towards you, freezing you in your tracks with its hateful red gaze. It starts to move toward you, which snaps you out of your daze. You turn and bolt away from the bloodthirsty animatronic.
It's close. Closer than any other animatronic has been. Too close. You can't outrun it, you can't lose it. You hear the pounding footsteps behind you, matching your racing heart. Suddenly you see it- the Freddy animatronic. It's facing away from you. You pray that this will work and hit the black button on the back of its head, then slide around it as the glow in its eyes dims. You smash your hand into the button that opens the chest cavity and hastily climb in, bumping your injured arm in the process, slamming the door behind you. You hear the footsteps slow, and through the plastic window, you can see two red, glowing dots on the other side, looking directly at you.
You want to cry, but you don't want to make any noise. You cover your mouth, muffling a sob that escapes your lips. Your heart is too loud, your breathing is too loud. The wolf knows you're here, and it's going to kill you just like it did to Petra. Then there's another pair of footsteps- quieter and lighter than the animatronics. You see the vague outline of a human in the distance. The wolf turns its head, then starts running towards the person. The person screams in fear and runs away. You try not to think about which one of your remaining friends that was. You climb out of the chest cavity and start sprinting for the emergency exit. You see the gator near the door, and you know it sees you. But you're closer. As you reach for the push-bar on the door, somewhere, a clock chimes 6 a.m, and you burst through the doors into blinding sunlight. You turn around when you hear nothing has followed you and see that the mall is now ruined. Just like it was over 6 hours ago. You can see Petra's car further away in the parking lot. Your mind is spinning. There's no way that was a dream. You have a stab wound, for God's sake! What happened to your friends?!
You spot a laundromat a short ways away. Something inexplicable draws you to it. You hobble towards the tiny building, and as you get closer, you can see an old man sitting behind the counter, reading a book. In your gut, you instinctively know that man had something to do with what just transpired, and possibly the disappearance of your brother. You feel rage bubbling up inside your stomach, and you slam open the door. The old man looks up, and you realize with a jolt that the old man's wrinkly face is that of your grandfather's. He smiles. "Ah.... grandchild... how nice of you to visit."
You finally find your voice. "Grandpa..."
He sets down his book and gives you a smile. "So you survived, eh? I knew you would. You're my grandchild, after all."
"Wha.... what are you talking about?"
"Which one died first?"
It's like a punch to the gut. You take a step back, your eyes widening in horror. Your grandpa, the silly old man who liked to play chess and feed birds, was asking you which one of your friends had been murdered first. Like he was asking what the weather forecast was. Disgust rose in the back of your throat. ".... You disgust me."
You don't give him time to respond. You storm outside, angry tears blurring your vision. You spot an empty beer can and pick it up, throwing it against the wall with a scream of rage, frustration, and hurt. You drop to your knees and sob, the fear and shock that had been pent up for the last six hours finally being released. You cry for Petra, your best friend who stuck with you til the very end. You cry for Zion and Quin, two friends who had just wanted to have fun and help you find clues about your brother's disappearance. And you cry for your brother, who fell victim to the cursed Fazbear franchise just like you and your three friends.
A shadow looms over you, and before you can react, something grabs your head, yanking you to a standing position. You scream and flail around, trying to rip away from whoever had grabbed you, but the grip was inhumanely strong. You're forced into a familiar feeling space, and the door shuts behind you. You squirm around and realize that you're now looking out of the Freddy's chest cavity window. You realize that he's moving, taking you back to the mall. But now the mall looks brand new, neon signs and all.
Panic coils around your heart, squeezing it until you can barely breathe. Freddy pushes open the doors you had come out of minutes earlier, and you hear the doors shut behind you. You let out a choked sob. Somehow, you know that there's no escape this time. The chest cavity opens, and the Freddy's hand drags you out, tossing you on the floor. You sprawl out at the feet of the wolf, surrounded by the other animatronics and the person in the animal suit. You sob as the wolf picks you up, bringing you face to face with its immaculate sharp teeth. You close your eyes as its mouth opens wider, and the last thing you feel is a sharp pain in your forehead and jaw.
~~Thank you for reading!! Let me know what yall thought in the comments!~~
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