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rootedinrevisions · 9 months ago

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Unplanned Journeys: Part 1

SUMMARY: You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST two more parts to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It started as something small—just a slight sluggishness that you chalked up to long hours and a busy schedule. After all, everyone had days where they felt off, right? You didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you hadn’t been drinking enough water or were pushing yourself too hard at the gym with the new workout routine you had taken up. But the fatigue lingered, heavier than usual. The exhaustion hit you mid-morning, the kind that left you wanting to crawl back into bed despite a full night’s sleep.

By day three, the headaches came. Sharp and persistent, not debilitating but enough to make focusing at work a struggle. You found yourself squinting at the screen, rubbing at your temples, wondering if your caffeine intake had anything to do with it. Coffee had always been your crutch, but suddenly it wasn’t helping. That in itself seemed odd—coffee usually gave you a little boost, but lately, it just left you feeling more nauseated than energized.

As you sat at your desk, half-listening to a Zoom meeting you were supposed to be engaged in, you absentmindedly reached for your phone. Flipping through your calendar, you skimmed the past couple of weeks, your thumb freezing as a realization crept in. You were late. Not by a lot—but enough to notice.

You glanced at the calendar again, frowning. Surely, it couldn’t be that. Your cycle was sometimes a day or two off. It wasn’t something to worry about. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling, the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered that maybe this wasn’t just an irregular month.

No. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear the thought. You were on birth control. You and Jake had been careful. This was just your mind overreacting, connecting dots that weren’t there. But then a new thought slithered its way into your consciousness. A few weeks ago, you’d been sick—laid out with that stubborn cold. You’d gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics.

Antibiotics…

Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the doctor’s warning. Something about your birth control being less effective. At the time, you’d been too focused on just wanting to feel better, not giving much thought to how the medication could affect anything else.

The nausea from your coffee earlier that morning felt more like a bad omen now.

You leaned back in your chair, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest. No. It couldn’t be that. You were just being paranoid. But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The headaches. The exhaustion. The nausea from foods that had never made you nauseous before. Your pulse quickened as you stared at the calendar, connecting the dots. Could it really be? The thought hung there, weighty and terrifying. What if you were…?

The panic bubbled up, threatening to spill over, but you pushed it down. You needed answers, not speculation. You couldn’t keep spiraling like this. There was only one way to know for sure.

Without a second thought as soon as you were clocked out at 5:01pm, you grabbed your keys and purse, practically bolting for the door. There was a CVS just a few blocks away. The sooner you took the test, the sooner you could put this fear to rest.

As you hurried toward your car, your thoughts raced alongside you, a thousand different scenarios flashing in your mind. What if it’s positive? What would Jake say? Would he leave?

The short drive back to your apartment felt like miles, the little white CVS bag clutched in your hand felt heavier than it should have been. Each minute only magnified the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the cool air of your small apartment hit you, but it did little to calm the heat of your rising anxiety. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as if delaying what you knew you had to do would somehow make the looming possibility disappear.

Your heart raced as you walked to the bathroom, the test still tucked in its box as though keeping it sealed would keep the truth hidden a little longer. You set it on the counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired. Your skin was paler than usual, dark circles faintly visible under your eyes. Maybe you were just exhausted. You had been working on a project at work that had a pretty tight deadline. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. Maybe you were imagining all of this. Making up something that wasn't there.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror, reaching for the box. The sound of the packaging tearing open seemed too loud in the quiet apartment. You took one of the two pregnancy tests out and set it on the counter. Your hands trembled slightly as you read over the instructions, even though you didn’t really need them—you knew how this worked. Open the package. Pee on the stick. Wait. But reading them gave you a few more seconds before facing the truth.

You took a deep breath and finally did what needed to be done. Afterward, you placed the test down, careful not to look at it yet, and set the timer on your phone. You couldn’t bear to watch the lines form, so you forced yourself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, pressing the heels of your palms into your knees, grounding yourself while you waited. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind raced, jumping between panicked thoughts and desperate rationalizations. There was no way. You and Jake had been careful, hadn’t you? You’d been taking birth control for years with no issues. And yet… there had been that one night, the night you felt better after being sick. You remembered how he had pulled you close, his warmth intoxicating after those few days of feeling terrible, his touch erasing the last of your discomfort. It had been one of those spontaneous moments, the kind you didn’t overthink. But now, it felt like maybe you should have.

The timer on your phone went off, snapping you out of your thoughts with a jarring sound. You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you reached for the test. With your hand trembling, you flipped it over, your breath catching in your throat.

Two pink lines stared back at you.

Your vision blurred as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. No. You blinked hard, clearing your eyes, then looked again.

Two pink lines.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach. You set the test down, unable to keep looking at it, and hurriedly reached for the second test in the box. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Hands shaking even more now, you repeated the process, this time pacing the bathroom as the second timer ticked down.

But deep down, you already knew.

The timer buzzed again, and with a knot tightening in your throat, you picked up the second test.

Two pink lines stared back at you, a confirmation you weren’t ready for.

You sat back down on the edge of the tub, the reality of it all sinking in, a cold rush of panic sweeping over you. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening?

Your thoughts went to Jake. How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be upset? Would he leave? End things with you? Your chest tightened at the idea of telling him. You’d only been together a few months, and even though things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel that this would be too much, too soon.

You pressed your hands to your face, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Images of Jake flashed through your mind—his charming smile, the way he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, the lighthearted banter that had drawn you to him. Your relationship was going strong. But was that enough? Were you enough? Would it be enough to survive something as life-changing as this?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help. You needed to think, to figure out what you were going to do next. But your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, uncertainty, and—oddly enough—a tiny flicker of something else. Something you didn’t want to admit. Hope.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought aside. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this lost, this scared, not when the rest of your life could be so drastically altered by a couple of pink lines.

But there was no denying it now. You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The next morning, the reality of what had happened still weighed heavily on you. It had settled in overnight, creeping into your mind every time you closed your eyes, so sleep was hardly an escape. You lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday playing on a loop. The two pink lines. Your pounding heart. The panic that had taken root in your chest, now a constant, gnawing ache.

But beyond the overwhelming fear of your situation was an even greater question: Jake. How were you going to tell him? Or… should you even tell him yet?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you out of your thoughts. You didn’t have to check to know who it was. Jake had sent a text earlier in the morning—a simple “Good morning” with a smiley face—and you had left it unanswered.

Now, a second message appeared, more direct this time:

Jake: You okay? Haven’t heard from you.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to talk to him without the weight of your secret making everything feel wrong. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard as your mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to respond with.

You: Yeah, sorry. Been busy.

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt settling in your chest as you hit send. You hated how distant the response felt, hated how you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. But what could you say?

The seconds stretched on before your phone buzzed again.

Jake: Busy? You trying to avoid me?? ;)

The words on the screen were playful, a light jab that might’ve made you smile any other day. But today, it only made you feel worse. He was catching on. Jake always had a knack for reading people, and now he was reading you, seeing right through your weak attempts to act normal.

You set your phone aside, deciding not to answer for now. You’d figure out what to tell him later. But for now, you just needed space. Space to think. Space to process. Space to make sense of the storm that had taken over your mind.

The day dragged on, and you kept your distance. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your anxiety spiked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to respond beyond brief, one-word replies. You were trapped in this bubble of avoidance, knowing full well that it wasn’t sustainable but unable to break free of it just yet.

Later that evening the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over The Hard Deck as you stepped inside. The familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but they felt distant, almost muffled, as you made your way to the bar.

Jake was already there, leaning against the counter, chatting with a few of the guys. His laughter rang out, and your heart sank a little. How could you keep this secret from him when he looked so carefree?

“Hey, you made it!” Jake grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached out to pull you closer. You forced a smile in return, feeling the weight of your secret settle heavily on your chest.

You settled onto a barstool beside him, ordering a Diet Coke, the bubbly drink a stark contrast to the cold beer he and the others were enjoying. As Penny placed your drink in front of you, Jake’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Diet Coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not feeling under the weather? I thought you’d be grabbing a beer with me.”

“Just not in the mood for one tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, it’s Thursday night! You can’t tell me you don’t want to kick back with a cold one.” He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

You chuckled lightly, but it felt forced. “I just have a lot on my mind with that project deadline tomorrow I told you about.”

“Just thinking about work, huh?” he asked, his voice low, laced with concern.

You nodded, a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you raised the glass to your lips.

Later that night after beating Rooster and Bob in games of pool Jake made his way back over to where you were still sitting on the bar stool.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You sure you’re okay?” He said as he put his hand on your back and began gently rubbing it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a little too rehearsed, the words falling from your lips like an empty promise. “Just a lot on my mind with that deadline tomorrow.”

“Right.” He nodded, though the frown on his face told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, but instead of the warmth you usually felt, you tensed.

You could feel him studying you, as if he were searching for something just beneath the surface. His touch, usually comforting, felt heavy now. “You’re not really laughing tonight,” he pointed out, the concern in his tone deepening. “I mean, that joke from Phoenix was hilarious, and you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jake tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You sure that’s all? Because it feels like something else is going on.”

You swallowed hard, the truth lingering just beneath your tongue. He deserved to know, but the thought of revealing your pregnancy sent waves of panic coursing through you. Instead, you looked down at your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass. “Really, Jake. I’m just... thinking about everything.”

“Okay, but you know I’m here for you, right?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry etched across his features. “If you need to talk, just say the word. I can take you home. We can go back to my place. Whatever you want.”

You nodded again, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I know. I appreciate it.”

The night wore on, and the laughter and camaraderie around you seemed to grow louder while you felt more isolated in your thoughts. As Jake tried to draw you back into the fold, the distance between you only seemed to widen. Each time he reached out, you instinctively pulled away, hiding the truth that threatened to spill from your lips.

You were trapped in a delicate dance, and with each passing moment, the weight of your secret pressed heavier against your chest. You took a deep breath, knowing that soon, you’d have to face him. But for now, all you could do was keep the facade intact, holding on to the last threads of normalcy before the storm would break.

When Jake asked you to meet him at The Hard Deck the following evening, your heart sank. He was trying, reaching out to spend time with you like always, but the idea of seeing him, pretending that everything was normal, felt impossible. Your chest tightened as you typed out your reply.

You: Can’t tonight. Sorry.

You could almost imagine the confusion on his face as he read your message. Normally, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet up with him, to sit at the bar with him, sharing drinks and flirty comments. But not tonight. Not now.

You spent the evening in your apartment, pacing, thinking. The truth was suffocating you, and the longer you put off telling him, the worse it became. But fear gripped you every time you thought about saying the words out loud. What if this changed everything? What if Jake didn’t want this? What if he… walked away?

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter at the thought. You tried to shake it off, tried to reassure yourself that you were overthinking things, but the fear wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t know Jake’s thoughts on kids, on the future, on anything beyond the easy, carefree nature of your fairly new relationship. And now, this could upend everything.

When your phone buzzed again later that night, you ignored it. You couldn’t deal with it. Couldn't deal with him. Not yet.

But avoiding Jake was harder than you expected.

The next evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you heard a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you froze, staring blankly at the door. Who would be at your door right now?

Another knock. Louder this time.

Your pulse quickened as you pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way toward the door. You peered through the peephole, and your stomach dropped.

It was Jake.

You hesitated, every muscle in your body suddenly tense. He had come to see you. Maybe he was worried. Or maybe he was just tired of your evasiveness. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was here, standing on the other side of your door, and you had to face him.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. There he was, standing in the hallway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his usual easygoing smile playing on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes.

He leaned in slightly as if to kiss you. Instinctively, you took a small step back, the distance between you immediately noticeable.

Jake’s smile faltered.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Didn’t even want to meet me at the Hard Deck tonight. That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just… been busy,” you muttered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“Busy. Right. Well, your deadline at work was up at 4:59, so what's your excuse now?” Jake repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?”

Your chest tightened as he pushed, his words cutting through your thin layer of avoidance. He wasn’t letting this go. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You sure about that?” His voice was firmer now, the playful edge gone. “Because this isn’t you. You've barely texted me all week. Then you acted like you were trying to avoid me like the plague last night at the bar. You blew me off tonight, and now… what? You’re acting like you don’t even want me here?” He paused and just looked at you, shaking his head. "Do you want me here? Do you want me to leave?"

The guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you could feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface. You tried to swallow it down, to push the panic aside, but it was too much. The pressure was too much.

“Jake, I—” You stopped, biting your lip as your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “I just… I don’t know how to—”

He took a step forward, his voice softening again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It's just...you're scaring me, babe. You're making me think you're trying to hide something. Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. But don’t shut me out like this. ”

You blinked, fighting back the tears. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to tell him. But fear kept your throat tight, the words trapped inside.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle, and grounding, but even that felt too much right now.

You pulled away, stepping back toward the living room.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jake frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Can’t do what?”

You knew you couldn’t avoid the truth much longer.

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” you blurted out, your voice breaking. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

The room went completely still. For a moment, Jake didn’t react, his expression frozen in surprise as if he hadn’t quite processed what you had just said.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I took a test a few days ago. It was positive.” The words felt heavy, hanging in the air between you, and you could barely look at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you… I didn’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, as Jake stood there, his gaze locked on you. You could see the shock in his eyes, the way his mind seemed to be working through what you had just revealed. Your stomach twisted in knots, the fear bubbling up again. You had no idea how he was going to react. No idea what this meant for the two of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, processing. His face was unreadable, and the silence between you became unbearable.

“I… I didn’t see that coming,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look at him. “Neither did I,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I’ve been freaking out, Jake. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know if I should tell you, or if you even—”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Wait… did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Were you thinking about not telling me?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was laced with disbelief, and you realized what you had implied. Your heart clenched as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted, your voice shaking as tears started to form in your eyes. “I was scared, Jake. I still am. I don’t know what this means for us, or for anything.”

Jake took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped toward you. His hand reached out, gently taking yours, his touch warm and steady. “Baby, I get that this is… huge. It’s not something either of us expected. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sent a wave of relief washing over you, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges. You had been so caught up in your panic that you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope for this—that Jake wouldn’t run, that he wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

Jake squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds, and yeah, this is scary as hell. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in days, you felt a sliver of hope break through the fear. You weren’t alone in this. Jake wasn’t going to leave.

The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally broke free and started to roll down your cheeks as you looked at him, the emotion finally overwhelming you.

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you’d want this. If you’d want me.”

Jake’s expression softened even further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as the reality of everything finally hit you. But this time, it didn’t feel as crushing. With Jake’s arms around you, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“This isn't your fault, baby. We both made this baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in his embrace, the fear still there but no longer as suffocating. With Jake by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

For the first time since seeing those two pink lines, you allowed yourself to believe that everything might just be okay.

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transhuman-priestess · 8 months ago

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you guys really need to stop acting like losing your porn and fanfiction is 1.) going to happen at 12:01pm on 20 January 2025 and 2.) the thing you need to be most worried about.

I have no idea how to impress upon you exactly how out of touch you look with that shit.

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athenaluciscaelum · 13 days ago

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Can I please get more of second chance

I need the picnic conversation. I need dante being a dad. I need Trish and lady to drop by and immediately spoil the kids even more. I need Nero to drop by, eat one bite of food, and immediately say, "You can do better." And I need the ex to come knocking on the door maybe to try and 'win' her back or maybe just to see his kids and fucking Dante opens the door.

Note: Sorry it took so long. Life happens and I tried. Please let me know how you liked it.

Second Chance - Part 1

Second Chance – Part 2 of 2 Parts

!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Pairing: DMC 4 Dante x Fem!Reader

Rated: Mature

Words: 4750 words

Warning: Explicit Language, Suggestive Scenes, Mention of Divorce and Domestic Abuse

Disclaimer:

Feel free to leave comments, but remember to be nice and civil.

It was a Saturday morning, a cosy day. On the upper part of the cafe building was your living space. The twins and your eldest shared a room, and you and your preschooler son slept in another room together. Sometimes, he slept with your eldest. It all depends on his mood. Whether he wants "Mommy or Big Sis", in his words.

You woke up at 5AM and looked at three girls cramped in a room; you sighed... They will need more space as they grow. And your son can't share a room with you forever. You have to think ahead; the cafe was doing well, but you will need to expand. You brushed, showered, wore a blush-pink sundress and put on some makeup... not to hide bruises was a nice change. What else could change?

You went down to the cafe, putting on your apron and putting your hair in a bun... kids slept late during weekends. You brewed a new batch of coffee, started to bake the breads, put the cake sheet in the oven to be baked and cleaned the place. By 9AM, everything was finished and ready, and you were putting out breads in the basket and pastries on the display.

Your customers started to pour in; you put on the notice that you will close at 12PM. Kids were awake, your preschooler was eating his breakfast with your twin daughter on a table in the corner. You and your eldest were serving customers... it was a rush.

You looked at your eldest daughter from behind the counter. Your heart pained at how much emotional and physical baggage your eldest carried on her shoulder. If not for her, you would have never gotten out. A voice in your head speaks, 'It was all your fault,' and you are frozen. Your eldest poked you.

You blinked and asked your eldest, "Sweetie...all of you get dressed; we are going on a picnic, and help your brother, please? I love you!"

By the time it was 12PM. You were closing. You asked Dante to meet you in the central park at 01PM. You went upstairs; the twins are wearing matching pink checkered and lace patch dresses with white stockings and belle shoes. Your preschooler was wearing his shirt with shorts and shoes. Your eldest was in her emo era; she wore a black shirt and leggings. You started to braid the twins' hair one by one. Your eldest likes to wear her hair open these days.

You reached Central Park by 01PM. Dante was in his normal gear; it was absurd, with cowboy boots and everything. But it all made sense together. He took the basket and your son from you. He smiled, "Hey Tyke, come to me; remember me!?" Your son smiled and spoke excitedly, "Dante!" Dante grinned, "That's right!" Dante smiled at your eldest, "Hey, young lady...and little princesses..." Twins giggled. Dante looked at you softly, "Let's go over the end; there is a quiet spot..." You nodded, "Good idea …," and followed him to the end. You placed down your mat and basket. Dante helped you, putting down your son on it, who was now eagerly running around with his balls and dashed.

Dante ran after him, "Hey! Come back!" Twins laughed and ran after Dante. Your eldest sat down on the mat, "Can I go and read under the tree?" You smiled; your eldest deserved this. "Sure...go...just stay in sight, okay?"

Your eldest smiled; she left with her book, phone, and earphones. Your twins and son were climbing over Dante, giving him a hard time in general. He was quite active and energetic, 'Must be his demon heritage...' You thought to yourself.

After a while, Dante was able to tire your son and twins; they came crashing back to the mat, ate their snacks, and dozed off in your lap. Your eldest took her sandwich and ate it at another corner of the park with her books.

Dante looked at your eldest as he ate the focaccia you made for him. He chewed on it happily, "She is at an age where she wants some alone time, right?"

You nodded, "She needs privacy... and time to herself. I'm lacking the ability to provide her both." Dante touched your hand, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "Hey...don't be so harsh yourself... I have a lot of respect for mothers…" You smiled looking at his handsome face, "Any particular reason?" Dante nodded sadly, "My mother died protecting me and my twin brother from demons when we were eight." You looked at him guilty, "I am so sorry... I didn't know..." Dante smiles. "It's okay...you didn't know...besides...all she wanted from me was to live on...I think I'm doing that just fine..." He had his trademark grin, which masked his pain, and you frowned, putting your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb on his scruff, "Are you...?" Dante was caught off guard and chuckled, "What? Well, I am alive..." You frowned, "I was alive most of my marriage. Just now I started living a few years back..." Dante sighed. There's no point hiding it from you, right?

Dante relaxed his body on the mat, propping himself on his elbows. Dante looked around at kids playing, couples making out, and dogs; he closed his eyes, letting everything sink in. He looked at you, "You're beautiful...." You smiled, "Not going to work... You are not changing the subject... If you want this to work... you have to be open..."

Dante sighed, "Can't I be open after I don't know? I had a few drinks?" You thought, "That needs all kids in bed..." Dante understood, "Fine, I'm sticking around till all of them are in bed..."

Dante helped you take kids back home; he kept them busy while you cooked. He was on the table with your twins, poking his bottom lip with the end of a pencil, "I can do this!" Your younger twin spoke, "Duh! You're an adult; you should know how to calculate interest..." Dante smirked, "Here is the thing, even if you can calculate interest. A lady with a big gun will come and take all the money you made on your recent job, adding a pile more on your principal amount as collateral damage." Your twin daughters blinked at him. He looked at them thoughtful, "Don't get yourself in debt, kids." He continued to help your twins with math homework. Your son was eating an orange sitting on the kitchen counter, and the eldest was trying to get some alone time in her shared room.

By 10PM, all kids were in bed, and you were drinking wine with Dante downstairs. You could hear them laughing and talking upstairs; they sometimes stayed up late talking or playing in their room. He sneaked in some liquor when the kids were not paying attention. You were a little tipsy by now," Dante smiled,"So...?" You giggled, "How does a demon hunter job work?" You looked at your glass, raising it, the amber liquid in it giving different reflections under moonlight. Dante looked at you; you were talking all silly; it was cute. He explained, "I have my agency, 'Devil May Cry.' You can walk in, call on my number, or contact my agent; his name is Morrison. If you have a password, I take the job, no questions asked; you can pay or not." You giggled, "Password, like? "Abrakadabra!" You made a poof sound, and he laughed, "No...password-like situation involved demon..." You got a little serious. "Ohho...that reminds me...how many demons follow you?" Dante got tense but was honest; you had a right to know. "It was a lot. But as I got stronger, they tried to keep their distance...now I'm the hunter and they are the prey, hence demon hunter." You nodded and thought, "How do they trace you?" Dante sighed, "We demons have a strong sense of smell…" You were tense now, "So they can sniff you here and come here if they want..."

Dante was ready to be thrown out by you; this should happen to someone like him anyway... but suddenly he felt your soft body against him, your arms wrapped around him, your face buried in his neck, and you mumbled, "My God, it must be so tough..." Dante let himself melt in your arms, tears threatened to spill out, "Yeah...it is...I'm scared I will endanger you and your kids..."

You tilted your head, "But they are not your blood." Dante nodded, "Yeah, but they can get to know.... I care about you and the kids. I love you all..."

You froze, you spoke, reflecting on the words, "You love us...." Dante nodded, "Yeah, I do, and if you let me," As you heard that word, 'love,' everything in your mind got static... You were trying to stay calm, but you trembled. Dante hugged you tight. "Hey, Y/N, it's okay..." You started to mumble again and again, "It's all my fault; it is every time!"

Dante didn't know how to handle such a situation; should he hug you? Rub your back? Let you go through it? He didn't want to make it worse. Was he even ready for such a big commitment? He thought to himself about how he saw no hope in life once. But then he met Nero; he got to know someone of his blood existed, and it all made sense, right? Maybe, just maybe, he can get better. He did help Nero. Nero was thankful. Dante didn't turn everything to shit with his cursed self in Fortuna. Nero was glad that Dante was there.

Dante reached out and hugged you back tight...his face in your soft hair, "It's alright, you are fine, you're safe, and I will take care of you and the kids... I don't know how...but I will try... I promise... at least I will be there..." You lift up your tear-filled face, and Dante wipes your tear off.

He smiled, "No more tears...." You buried your face in his chest and nodded.

It was tough to trust any men, but Dante made it easy. And the fact that he made it so easy was the scariest part. Were you forgetting what all of your life taught you? Do you want to be someone's punching bag again? If even for a split second Dante is not what he shows? Even for a bit, then he can take you and your kids out of the life, if he wants. You weren't even sure why you were even thinking that...when you were on the couch in the living room, naked beneath him. While he was hovering over you with his perfect body and hitting your sweet spot deliciously. You muffled your voices; you never knew sex could be this good. You only ever knew it from one man before, and you thought, Maybe it is not something everyone likes, or it was overhyped.

Your eyes rolled back as you came, crying his name softly. Hell, you were so wrong. This was amazing. Dante pulled out from you, tying the condom up and tossing it in the trash can. He pulled you above him as he lay down on the couch. It was so easy for him. You were like a rag doll to him. You curled up on his chest and closed your eyes shut to bask in his warmth, sighing content, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest, his soft white chest hair under your finger.

His fingers running through your hair as he looked up at the ceiling... you pulled yourself up to reach his face. You cupped his face to kiss his lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, and chest. He sighed contentedly, "You can ask for another round..." You smiled up at him, "I am not ..." Dante let his head fall back. "Then we should sleep, or else I might not let you..."

You sighed and settled on him, "Fine..."

In the morning, Dante woke up and left early. You both do not want kids to know anything, as you two were still figuring it out. Especially to understand how dangerous it was to have Dante around.

Dante was usually on some mission at least twice or thrice a month out of the town. Some were a day or two long, and some were a week or more long. It was unpredictable. Sometimes, none for months. But with kids and your business around, it's not like you were ever alone. In fact, it gave you plenty of time to think about everything and have time for your responsibility. It was not an overbearing relationship like your marriage was; it was relaxed and calm. It was natural, not forced.

One afternoon, the kids were in the school, and the cafe was rarely crowded at this time on weekdays. You were sitting on a chair with bills on the table. No way; you can get a bigger place to live.

The bell chimed; Dante walked in. You grinned and ran up to him, "Dante!" You literally jumped at him, and he spun you around like a soldier coming back from war. He smiled, "Missed me?" You nodded... "I did...." He sets you down; the smooth, mellow music in the background made you both move... His hands settled on your waist while your hands rested on his chest as you both slowly danced. You looked up at him, "Long mission, I take?"

Dante spins you, "The usual...someone claiming to be the Demon King, and you know the whole nine yards..." You rested your forehead against his chest. Dante sighed, "Where are the kids? School?" You nodded, "Yeah....." Dante looked around, "Lil Tyke?" You smiled, "Started school last week as well..." Dante remembered, "Right! Want me to pick them up?" You shook your head, "You just came back..." Dante doesn't mind, "So what… I would love to see them..." You understand, he was attached to kids; numerous times he read to your son and twins at night. He took your eldest to her band practices. He helped twins with MMA; he said they were natural. He was more of a father than your husband ever was. Just footing the bills doesn't make one a parent or father. You agreed, "They love to see you as well...twins never stop asking about you and their MMA practice. They are pretty consistent." Dante chuckles, "My warrior princesses..."

Dante kisses your lips and pulls back, "Wait for me?" You smiled back with a blush... This is so silly, you thought to yourself, yet so warm. You went back in the kitchen to prepare for the evening rush in the cafe.

Dante was walking to kids' school; all of them attended the same school. He wasn't even sure if he should associate with you and the kids at all. The internal strife within him is never-ending. But he had failed every time; he ended up in your cafe, home, picnic, and on your couch with you. More time, then he will like to admit.

Dante looked up as he walked; the weather was nice today. Maybe it's a good day to let you relax and take kids out. He collected all four of them from the school and informed you of his plan. He just got paid and had a good amount of cash on hand. Dante was carrying your youngest son in his arms. One of the twins was holding her eldest sister's hands, while another was holding Dante's free hand.

Your eldest looked at Dante, "Where are we going, Mister Dante?" Dante chuckled, "Call me Dante... and we are going to the mall...." The twins' ears perked up. One of them spoke excitedly, "Can I get the sparkly potion maker!?" Dante smiled, "Bath bomb? Sure. We can check out Bath and Body Works..." The other twin tugged on Dante's hand, "I want a sword like you!" Dante looked down at her, "I'm sure we can find one in the toy store..." Your son was asleep in Dante's arms. Your eldest was unsure, "Why mall?" Dante smiled, "I heard someone's favourite band is going to be there live today; you have good taste in music..."

Your eldest's eyes were wide; someone remembered her and her interests. She stopped and hugged Dante tight; the twins did the same. Dante froze; maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right. Your eldest spoke, resting her head on his chest, "Thank you...thank you so much…" Dante patted her head lovingly, "Don't worry...I got you. I promise. I will try my best." It was more of a promise to himself.

Kids and Dante came back home right after the concert and shopping. They were all happily smiling, telling you how much fun they had with Dante as they ate over dinner. You smiled at Dante to thank him. And he just smiled back. It was healing him a lot more than it made kids happy. And he intended to thank you properly for making such a good lot, once the kids were asleep, of course.

Dante and you were on the couch, naked under a sheet. You were sitting in his lap as moonlight illuminated your figure; you looked up at him. "Thanks for today." He kissed your forehead. "Babe, kids need more space; I got plenty." You looked up at him surprised, "Are you sure? You're asking us to move in..." Dante nodded, "I love you and the kids..." You nodded, "Yeah, kids love you too..." Dante caressed your cheek, "But what about Mommy, do you?" You were quiet and looked down. Dante closed his eyes as he rested his chin on your head, "It is hard to dare to love when it was fabricated to manipulate you all your life... Take your tim-"

You were trembling and stuttered, "It is always my fault..." Dante frowned, turning you to look at him; he was so big yet so soft. "No...it was not...you did the best you could..." You shook your head, "It was; I should have never! Never! Stayed for so long... never let him hurt me and the kids so much... I let him shatter my trust in love... I should have never let him break me..."

Dante hugged you tight, rubbing your back. "It's okay...everything is fine now...you're here....please....." You looked at him as you pulled back, "I do love you...but it's so scary." You broke into tears. Dante rubbed your nose to his. "I am scared too... every time I am with you and kids..."

You held his hand tight. "Let's...try not to be scared, okay?" You smiled through tears, and he nodded, "Okay...."

In a month, you moved out of your living space to move to Devil May Cry; luckily, it wasn't far from your cafe. Kids settled in well; they liked the aesthetic of Dante's place. There was plenty of room for kids on the upper floor; you never knew the place was so spacious. Your eldest at last got her quiet and peace. She was quite interested in Dante's old record collections.

Your twins were happy sparring with Dante, while your youngest always talked about weird stuff to Agni and Rudra, who told him some ancient Vedic tale; at least he was learning some history. And Agni and Rudra kept it age-appropriate mostly, though Dante hated their voice for some reason; you always found them funny, and they made your son laugh.

After a week of settling in. You wanted to meet Nero since he mattered so much to Dante. Dante was at first reluctant but caved in when you expressed your desire to accept his only living blood relative, as he accepted your kids.

Nero brought Kyrie and the kids they adopted with him; it was a full house. Dante was in the kitchen trying to make a strawberry sundae for the lot as a way to help you. Nero tried it and laughed, "You could do better."

Dante got defensive, "I'm trying! Besides, it isn't half bad." Kyrie tries to do some damage control and speaks softly, "Dante, it's not that bad." Nero laughed, "It's barely edible." Your eldest shoved a spoonful in her mouth, irritated by Nero's comment, "It is the best! Dad is the best!"

You, Dante, Nero and Kyrie were surprised. Your eldest realised what she said and was flustered, "I-I-I am sorry; it was a slip of the tongue..." Before you can say anything, Dante spoke, "It's okay... It actually felt nice... You can if you want..." You looked at Dante with love and genuine gratitude. Your eldest blinked and nodded; she was all shy, "Dad...." Dante spoke softly, "Yeah..." Your eldest smiled, "Thank you for being there...every time I needed space or care." Dante smiled, "Thank you..."

At the end of the night, Nero left saying, "You are doing better..." It made Dante feel a little bit better about himself.

Everything was going well...way too well, if you say so yourself. The holidays were nice; Christmas was great. New Year was a bash. It was the summer, and you were engaged to Dante by now.

It was nice to know love in which it was not all on your shoulder. It was nice to have someone you could lean on. It was true that Dante was out of town many times, but still, whenever he was there. He made you feel like home; you never felt like home with your ex-husband. Every bite you took, every little thing you used, it was all a favour. His grace is on you and the kids, which he can take away whenever he wants. Your kids and you no longer lived in constant fear of ticking off the time bomb.

It was a calm afternoon. It was sunny, Dante was at his desk reading, you were in your shared bed upstairs after quite an intense night, and the kids were out on a trip with their 'cool aunts', i.e., Trish and Lady. They came and took kids as if they were their own. You never refused them since they made sure kids study and get enough physical activity in. Also, they provided them with a better diet than Dante ever did. Anyway,, kids love their dad; yes, even your youngest was calling Dante 'Dad' now. And Dante loved every bit of it.

Dante was flipping through his magazine when he yawned. He heard someone walk in from the front door... He leaned back in his chair to stretch, "Password...or get lost; I'm not really in a mood for a job."

Dante looked up; it was a broad man, shorter than him. But he looked like he works out. His expression was angry, and the man looked at Dante with hatred. He spoke, looking Dante up and down, "Is Mrs. [your ex-husband's surname] here?" Dante recognised the surname and put two and two together. He didn't even feel the need to give the man much attention; Dante shook his head and spoke nonchalantly, sipping his wine from the bottle, "No...I am sorry...no one here who goes by this name."

The man clenched his fist and spoke with his teeth clenched, "Where is Y/N?" Dante looked up, putting his legs down, his elbow resting on his knee as he looked up to take a look at the man's face. Dante spoke calmly, "She is upstairs and asleep..."

Man was livid but kept his cool as he demanded, "I want to see her... Wake her up and bring her down here..." Dante spoke as a matter of fact with a cool head, "She is asleep. I would not wake her up for you or anyone. I will let her know you dropped by if she wants to see you. Then, we will see. Otherwise, get lost. You are not welcome here..."

Man slammed his hands on the table, his veins on the head popping; he was red with fury. He shouted, "I want to see her! And my kids!" Dante stood up, crossing his arms over his chest; he sighed, "Hit the road...." Dante threw the man out of the door in a flash. The man was out hitting the wall of the opposite building within a split second; he cried, "How dare you!? She is mine! So are the kids! She is my bitch!"

Dante was in front of the man with the ivory barrel stuck on his head; the man felt fear settle in his bones. The man saw something inhumane and red in Dante's eyes, an aura of strength he can't deny. He trembled and stuttered, "Y-Y-You! Won't do this! I'm a c-c-cop! I'm taking this to the court! She is raising my child with a literal mercenary!" Dante sighed, his finger on the trigger, "After years of giving up any claim to kids? Sure, it will make a strong case; go on... Besides, I do pest control. The only difference being, it is pests like you."

You came downstairs and looked at your ex-husband on his knees and Dante with ivory on his head. You walked up to them, and you spoke calmly, "Dante...step back...I can handle this..." Dante did not budge, "Sure...but I'm staying right here..."

You looked down at your ex-husband; he was pitiful. You were disgusted that you were ever afraid of him. He got up on his knees and spoke in venom, "Give me back the fucking ring!?"

You raised an eyebrow, "What ring exactly?" He shouted, "The wedding ring! I want it back..." You spoke coolly, "It's sold... It made up for the child support you refused to give... again in debt?" You looked at him with pity; your ex-husband could see it. He was so used to looking down at you. He hated it. He hated not being able to be the one to control you and the kids. It was all your fault; if you had kept quiet and kept giving him the love, sex, and labour without a question. He would have never hit you. If only you had raised the kids right, your eldest would have never interfered, and he wouldn't have hit her on the head. It was all your fault. If only you had not gone for divorce, no one would have started to suspect his image and slowly started to cut him out socially. It was all your fault. His image was ruined; he now feels lonely, drinks too much, and was suspended from his job for drinking and being violent during an important case. It was all your fault. His life was shit because of you!

Your ex-husband kept looking at you as he thought all this; you were the reason for all his pain. If only you had shut up, his hands were reaching for your neck to squeeze the life out of you. You were caught off guard, but before he could put his hand on you, Dante's rebellion was on his neck, and he stopped, not too deep, just enough to make him bleed. Dante's eyes glared at the man, and he spoke stoically, "Leave...and do not ever come back...do not ever dare to touch her or the kids..."

That was the last day you ever saw your ex-husband again. For all you know, he was regularly suspended for the lack of discipline on duty and was transferred to some shitty town.

A few years later, you were on the aisle again, less nervous this time, with less doubt in your heart and mind. Nero was Dante's best man; your friend was the maid of honour, with Trish, Lady, and Kyrie as your bridesmaids. Lucia was in the front row. And Vergil was your officiator; it was the least he could do, his way of apologising to Dante for all the shit and heartache he put Dante through. Vergil might not accept it, but he knows. Your kids were smiling for you; they chose to be from their dad's side, traitors...

As you exchanged your vows and looked at Dante. Vergil asked Dante, "Do you take Y/N as your wife?" Dante nodded, "I do..." Vergil asked you next, "Do you take Dante, son of Sparda, as your husband?" Dante gave Vergil a look. Seriously, he has to pull that shit? You looked at Dante with a smile, "How many kids do you want?" Dante thought, "Let me guess, one…two…four…" You nodded and giggled, "Then I do!" Dante spun you around as he kissed you...

The End

Tagged: @7er1ch0

#devil may cry #dante devil may cry #dante sparda #dmc dante #dante #dante x reader #dmc fanfiction #devil may cry 3 manga #athena speaks #fantiction #dante dmc #dante dmc4 #dante dmc5 #dmc 4 #devil may cry 4 #devil may cry 4 dante

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liveontelevision · 1 year ago

Text

Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader

The time has come, babes, this could be the final part

I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

♡♡♡

"I'll see you, Lucifer."

"I hope so."

Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?

Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.

But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.

Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp.

3:01PM

"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.

—

You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.

Speaking of,

"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.

"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.

Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you.

"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.

"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.

"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.

"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.

As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.

"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel?

"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.

"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.

"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.

"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.

"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.

"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.

"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.

"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.

After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.

Purple always looked good on you.

"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.

"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.

"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.

"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious.

Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.

"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.

"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.

"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.

"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.

"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.

"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.

"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.

"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.

You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.

The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.

You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.

The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.

"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.

Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.

"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.

"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.

Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.

Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.

The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.

Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.

"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.

You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.

"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.

"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.

Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.

Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.

He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.

"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.

"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.

"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.

You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.

You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?

"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.

You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.

"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.

His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.

"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?

"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.

"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.

"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.

"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.

"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.

"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.

Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.

Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.

"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.

"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.

Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.

Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..

A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.

The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.

Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.

Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.

"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.

"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.

"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.

"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.

What just happened?

"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.

♡♡♡

lmao jk there's more parts coming

( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )

!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee

@0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld @phamtasic @mjmdragons )

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urf1lterr · 1 year ago

Text

moonlight | m.yg [1]

next chapter: soon

summary: when it’s finally the week of your big sister's wedding, you’re more than excited for it to be over as responsibilities come flying your way. however, you can’t seem to stop thinking about a particular groomsman with blonde hair.

pairing: groomsman!yoongi x bridesmaid!y/n

genre: wedding!au, strangers to lovers au | awkward, fluff, angst, mature

word count: 7.4k

status: in progress

author’s note: reposting this bc i miss him. i’ve been wanting to do this for sooooo long but never had time- still don’t but oops.

Sleep is what you really needed right now, especially when you already lacked it in your daily life. But no, that wasn’t really an option right now, not when you had to wait for your sister to pick you up from the airport and get dinner afterwards.

Realistically, you could’ve slept on the plane ride here, but you hated the seat you were in. At first, you sat in the aisle seat because it was always the fastest way to exit afterwards, but you had to give that up when a man probably in his late 50s basically ordered you to move to the middle because older people need "more" room.

You weren’t happy, but you weren’t about to argue because of this.

All you wanted to do right now was go to your old bedroom and change into some comfy sweats and an oversized t-shirt before pulling your blankets over your head to sleep in peace. You knew it was not going to happen any time soon, but a girl can wish.

As you finally saw your suitcases at the baggage claim area, you grabbed one, almost falling by how large and heavy it was. You cursed at yourself for overpacking, but you were staying in town for two weeks and could not risk the chance of not having enough clothes. Luckily, your other suitcase was fairly smaller.

Walking to the other side of the terminal, you saw the exit to the pick up area, immediately moving your legs faster because you couldn’t wait to get out of here. There were too many people walking slow, it surprised you how calm you’ve lasted.

Once you reached a bench in front of the area, you noticed that the weather was not that great. It was raining, which you loved- but your sister planned most of her events outside so this is probably going to make her cry for hours.

And you really don't wanna be the shoulder she cries on- she is very dramatic when she sobs.

Pulling out your phone, you noticed you received three texts. One from your sister, mom, and boss.

[mom] 5:57pm: were you able to land safely? don’t look tired and try not to be introverted, namjoon’s mother is joining us for dinner. put on some makeup, love you!

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. You weren’t surprised in the slightest, you knew how your mother was. She didn’t mean any harm, but she loves to impress others. By looking a bit tidy, she thinks people wouldn’t think lowly of us. However, she fails to understand that we’ve known your future brother-in-law’s family for almost six years now, you don’t believe they will call off the wedding by seeing their future daughter-in-law’s little sister bare faced.

Plus, his mother is the sweetest. If anything, she always told you how much she loved seeing natural faces compared to the overdose of products people nowadays use in which she refers to “tiktok trends.”

[jae] 6:01pm: the office is going to miss you! tell ur sister congrats again, and then do it again for me once she’s actually married lol. don’t you dare ask if there’s work for you to do it in the next two weeks!

Laughing to yourself, you quickly replied with a small “thank you, i will tell her,” along with a “darn, now i cant use work as an excuse to get out of wedding duties. but if there is work needed to be done just text me.”

[violet] 6:13pm: almost there!! look out for a black suv. hope u don’t need to go home, kinda planning to go straight to dinner bc our reservation is at 7 and joonie doesn’t want to be late! he’s scared they’ll judge us, see you soon <3

Of course he would think that, coming from the man who thinks texting and walking is rude- it's debatable!

That’s when you looked at the time, noticing that it was exactly 6:20pm. There was still time to make it by 7, you were sure of it.

As you were about to reply to your mom and sister, you heard the sound of tires screeching with constant honks. You looked up, noticing a very expensive-looking suv pulled near the curb, still beeping.

Was this your sister? I mean, it was black like she stated it would be.

Your question was finally answered when you noticed the passenger window being rolled down, revealing two young looking men with bright smiles eagerly waving, the driver still beeping with his other hand causing many people around to glare as they walked by.

You noticed the man with very shaggy hair, wearing what seems to be a white t-shirt, black slacks, and sneakers as he opened the door. “What’s up, y/n,” he smiled, making his way towards you.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here? I thought Violet was going to pick me up- is she in the backseat?” You questioned as he automatically went to grab your bags. “And what is this moron doing here? I thought he got his license taken away last month?”

Looking back to the SUV, you saw your cousin in the driver’s seat with what seems to be him fighting off a man with a bright yellow and green vest knocking violently on his window side.

“You cannot park here, you’re holding up traffic!” the man yelled, causing your cousin to roll his eyes before rolling down the window maybe two inches before yelling back.

“You’re the one holding up traffic standing in the middle of the road!”

“Don’t make me call security! Park in the parking lot!” The man dragged on, hitting the side of the car repeatedly and motioning his arms to drive away at the same time.

"Aren't you security?!" Your cousin honked before glaring at the man. “And you scratch my car, you pay for it!”

You stopped watching their little altercation as Taehyung began rolling your suitcases towards the trunk of the car, making you follow along. “She wasn’t able to come, apparently she had to go pick up some materials she ordered for the centerpieces,” he stated, setting the bags inside before closing the trunk. “And I am not sure why he is driving, I think everybody forgot he shouldn’t be and I am too lazy to do it, I was not able to take my nap today because Namjoon made me paint the photo booth all morning- it was exhausting.”

Opening the passenger door for you, you quickly jumped in as he shut it before jumping into the seat behind you. Turning to your left, you could still see your cousin arguing with the man before Taehyung told him to drive already.

“No! I hope you have a shitty day, you asshole!” Your cousin screamed before speeding away down the street. After literally two seconds, he looked your way while smiling brightly. “I missed you!”

Giving him a dirty glance, you slap his arm. “Ow! What was that for?” He whined, rubbing his arm with his free hand.

“Jungkook, why the fuck are you driving?” you declared. “You’re not allowed”

“Says who,” he rolled his eyes.

“The state,” Taehyung says from the backseat.

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “They can’t do anything, I pay my taxes.”

Groaning, you rub your forehead. “This has nothing to do with your taxes, you imbecile.”

He gives you a confused look for a quick moment before moving his eyes back on the road again. “You don’t need to use big words to attack me, y/n. This isn’t law school.”

You heard Taehyung sighing at how annoying his friend was being. To clear things up, Taehyung was actually a close friend of your side of the family through Jungkook, the two of them being inseparable since kindergarten.

You just so happened to know him well since he always followed Jungkook everywhere he went, same vice versa, as you saw your cousin basically everyday due to only being one year apart and both your mom’s being sisters. But with Taehyung, you happened to be the same age, same with their other friend in their trilogy, Jimin. In which you were surprised he wasn’t here because Jimin loved going to dinner with them.

“Why are you driving?”

“I got my license back,” he smiled, nodding heavily when he saw the questionable facial expression you were making. “I swear! I went to the DMV and everything. I got it back after paying like $3,000.”

Choking on your saliva after hearing how much he had to pay, you gasped, “Why so much? What exactly did you do?!”

Jungkook awkwardly moved both his hands on the steering wheel, obviously not wanting to answer your question as you heard his friend chuckling in the backseat. “Yeah, tell her Jungkook, what did you do?”

Throwing a small box of tissues he had left near the middle cup holder to Taehyung, Jungkook began his excuse. “I’m not really sure, apparently it’s illegal to drive through rain puddles,” he shrugged.

You shifted your head a bit, “that’s not illegal.”

“It is when you purposely speed through them to get people wet,” Taehyung giggled as Jungkook groaned in annoyance.

“Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell her that part!” Jungkook whined.

“That is so rude,” you pinched his arm as he tried moving away from you, knowing your first reaction to things were mostly violence. “How would you like it if someone did that to you?”

“I actually wouldn’t mind it,” he stated. “Saves me money from going to a waterpark.”

Sometimes, you wondered what goes on in that big head of your cousin. Not much common sense, that’s for sure.

“Anywho,” you spoke up, trying to change the dumb conversation you just had. “What’s the plan for tonight? I heard something about a dinner, but other than that I have idea what’s going on. No one told me anything.”

Jungkook shrugged, glancing at you a few times as he answered your question. “I know we have dinner with some of Namjoon’s friends, his mom, your parents, and then you sister’s friends. But afterwards, no clue.”

“Why are you and Taehyung going then?”

He scoffed, looking offended. “I’ll have you know, we are very much indeed Namjoon’s friends,” he proudly said before giving in once he saw how that did nothing. Maybe acquaintances but definitely not friends. “All the groomsmen were invited.”

Ah yes, you almost forgot Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin were appointed groomsmen which was a big shock considering they were not close to Namjoon like that.

But to be completely honest, your sister did have six bridesmaids while Namjoon only had three real groomsmen he wanted. So, she was able to convince Namjoon to allow the other three to take apart on their special day because they were basically like family.

And because he had no one else to call.

Although, it didn’t take much convincing, Namjoon did love the guys and they all bonded really well whenever they did interact.

“So, Jimin’s going?”

“He should be,” you heard Taehyung answer. “He couldn’t come with us to pick you up because he had to drop his little brother off at baseball practice- but I think their mom is going to pick him up once he’s done.”

You nodded, understanding the situation. To be honest, you were happy the three of them were going. It’s not like you wouldn’t know anyone tonight, maybe only a couple people, but the rest of your family never knew how to make you feel comfortable the same way the boys did.

Maybe its because you basically grew up with them and how you were all close in age, but you felt more open and less forced to act a certain way when they were by your side.

Throughout the car ride, you had to constantly bicker with Jungkook about slowing down and to avoid potholes as it kept getting in the way of you applying concealer and powder from your seat. You especially yelled when he almost made you smash your mascara wand in your eye, causing Taehyung to hide his laughter as he scrolled through twitter.

Finally, after small loads of traffic and listening to Jungkook’s ‘go crazy, go stupid’ playlist in which consisted of old Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana songs, you made it to the restaurant. The problem was, the rain was hectic. You’re surprised Jungkook didn’t crash into a pole trying to see through his windshield wipers.

Once you parked, Jungkook sheepishly smiled. “Okay so we have a small problem- nothing serious,” he stated as you gave him a look for him to continue. “We don’t have an umbrella.”

“What-” you and Taehyung said at the same time. “I can’t show up in there all wet, it’s pouring outside!”

“-and I can’t risk getting my shirt wet, I didn’t bring a sweatshirt and I am wearing a white top- my chest will be see through if it gets wet!” Taehyung cried out. “I don’t want people violating me.”

“Calm down, drama queens,” Your cousin rolled his eyes. “Y/n, cover your face with your arms to protect your makeup- that’s the only thing you should save. Taehyung, wrap your arms over your chest, don’t you dare lift them until we are sheltered. We got this guys!”

You scoffed as he cheered you both on. At least you all will be drenched together, you thought.

Getting ready to jump out of the car, you looked down at your outfit. You were wearing an oversized dark brown crewneck sweater, black thick leggings, and your white platform sneakers. At least you were kind of warm and didn’t have much to damage from the rain.

Looking back at how far the restaurant was from your parking spot, you three basically had to run the side of the building to get to the front. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it was regularly raining- but as it was lashing down with some now background sounds of thunder and lightening, you knew this was going to be a bad idea.

Jungkook gave you two a confident nod before aiming towards his door as Taehyung and you gave each other a worried look, eventually doing the same. “On the count of 3!” Jungkook yelled from his side.

Once we were all ready, hands on the door handle, you heard Taehyung start, “1-”

“-3!” Jungkook screamed and ran out the door, hearing the door lock as he ran his distance.

Taehyung and you looked at each other in shock before chasing after him. As you took more and more steps, you could tell that this rainstorm was probably one of the worst you have ever encountered.

But to be fair, you should have checked the forecast and remembered to bring your own umbrella.

After what seemed like minutes, the three of you finally made it to the front of the building in which you were blessed with a roof for your protection. At this moment, you have never been happier.

Moving your eyes to the two boys standing near you, you noticed how even though Tae’s hair was swamped, he managed to barely get his chest wet. Jungkook’s hair began curling up on the sides, but only that and his shoulders were fairly drenched.

You tried straightening out your sweater while looking up at Taehyung. “Do I look alright?”

“Yeah, you totally don’t look like you just ran through the rain.” he nodded, even though you could feel your hair soaked.

“Your makeup still looks intact,” Jungkook added, “but your hair- eh.”

You glared at him as he lifted his hands up in defense. He shouldn’t be talking, his hair was soaked too.

Trying to make yourselves look presentable, you didn’t notice someone rushing near you three, only when you felt a pair of arms wrapping behind you, causing you to squeal.

Moving your head to see the owner of the arms, you immediately hugged them back. “Jimin!”

“Y/n!” he giggled, but suddenly pulled away. “Ew, you’re drenched.” Nodding towards Jungkook, he quickly understood what happened. “Why didn’t you just tell me you guys were here? Jungkook, I texted you that I had an umbrella if you needed one.”

Taehyung and you turned to glare at Jungkook as he turned red and stammered, "I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see the message!”

"Hold on, man. Didn't you just dropped off your brother? It's pouring," Taehyung.

Jimin shrugged, "Do you think the MLB teams stop their games over some rain."

"In some cases, yes."

“Y/n! You’re here!” you heard that familiar voice squeal behind you, followed by a pair of arms once again hugging you. “I would totally not touch you, but I haven’t seen you in three months!”

Smiling, you held your annoying sister until you heard a cough. You let go to see your parents standing near her, your mom pushing her to the side, making your sister almost fall to the ground, before wrapping her arms around you. “Y/n! How was your flight? You never replied to my text, young lady,” she crossed her arms. Oh, how you love when your mother’s mood changes constantly.

She suddenly touched your face lightly, “Your face looks lovely! You’re hair though- uh its alright! The rain is our excuse!” she beamed.

Same old mother, but at least you knew she did not want you to take things seriously.

You felt your dad lightly wrap an arm around you, giving you a short greeting, probably not wanting to hold up our reservation as well but not because he didn’t want to be rude, he wanted to eat already.

Noticing no one else was outside, you sister began speaking. “Namjoon, his friends, and mom are inside sitting at the table already. I told them not to wait up on us so we don’t cause much of a disturbance inside.”

Nodding, she then began guiding everyone inside with your parents following directly behind her while Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook walked right along with you. It was a short walk inside, but you noticed that the table must have been all the way in the back, maybe in another room by how far in you all were going.

Being right, you could see that they reserved a private room which was extremely crazy- this must’ve been so expensive for a casual dinner!

The first person you noticed was your future brother-in-law sitting at the middle of the wide circular table, a seat empty right beside him for your sister you assumed. You identified his mother pretty clearly as she sat on the other side of him.

Your parents quickly sat on the seats right next to where your sister just sat. You moved your eyes to see most of the bridesmaids, who you knew for the longest as they all either went to school or worked with her, sitting right near you parents and across from them.

There was only one seat next to the last bridesmaid that was opened, so you assumed it was for you as it was across from your sister’s seat. Looking at the boys, you frowned, realizing you would be separated as they only had empty seats on the other side of the table where Namjoon’s mom sat. At least you could look at them from across the table.

Jimin fake pouted before they all walked to the available seats. You finally noticed the three other boys sitting beside them, only recognizing one of them, Hoseok. You were happy to be seated right next to him as you two have met many times in the past, but you couldn’t help but wonder who the other two were and why you weren’t introduced to them earlier.

Hoseok was actually a close friend of both Namjoon and your sister, in fact, he was the one who introduced them many years ago. He was probably one of the few close male friends your sister even had who she trusted with all her heart who didn’t want to sleep with her.

You also befriended him as he was the only one who wouldn’t complain but encouraged you to hang out with them during their high school days when your sister pulled the ‘hormonal teenager who hates everybody’ phase.

“Nice to see you, y/n. Thanks for coming, I know you must be exhausted from your flight, but it means a lot that you were able to make it,” Namjoon kindly greeted you, in which you smiled in return.

“It’s okay,” you shyly reply, feeling your nerves kick in because you suck at public speaking, even when it’s with people you’ve already met.

“Now she’s shy,” you heard your cousin stifle in a low laugh before Jimin kicked his leg, in which he groaned in pain, trying not to make any noise as he clutched his knee.

As you gave Jungkook a dirty look, you began turning, quickly taking a look at the guests you didn’t know. One seemed to look slightly tall, or you assumed he was by how long his torso was. He was very good looking, just not your type.

But the other one was already looking at you, his eyes quickly moving away when he realized he was caught, not seeming to care though. He had very beautiful eyes and bright blonde hair, but he looked very intimidating with his blank- almost cold expression.

“You look dashing, y/n!” You heard Namjoon’s mom exclaim, making you turn extremely red. God, you hated when people gave you compliments, especially when others were around. You did not like the attention it brought.

“Thank you” you looked down, trying your best to make your face cool down. You wish you were in the rain right now.

“I take full responsibility for her hair not looking the best,” Jungkook spoke up, making you immediately cover your face with your hands, praying he stop talking. “I forgot the umbrella.”

You heard him groan again, maybe from one of the boys kicking him for his irrelevant comments.

“I know the struggle,” You heard one of the unknown guests Namjoon had, the one who looked tall, begin. “I tripped while trying to walk in and landed on a puddle.” This caused you to giggle, happy that he was willing to embarrass himself to deflect the attention off you. “But it’s alright, luckily I had extra pants in my car.”

“Now that you mentioned that uh- fascinating information,” Namjoon awkwardly started. “Y/n, I realized you never met my other groomsmen-”

“Groomsmen? How dare you” You heard the same friend fake gasp, causing Hoseok to groan right beside you. “I am the one and only best man”

“So, that’s Jin,” Hoseok finally spoke up, rolling his eyes at his friend who you realized probably loved the attention more than you actually knew.

“Oh, hi” you shyly waved as he gave you a cheesy smile.

“Sorry about him, he’s a little over the top,” Namjoon sweetly mentioned to you, causing Jin to scoff. “-but in a good way!”

Just by observing their attitude towards each other, you can tell Jin was the friend who made Namjoon be more confident and open-minded enough to try new things. He seemed like the hype man of the group.

“And that’s Yoongi,” Hoseok added, pointing to the man on the left of him, the one who looked like he did not want to talk to anybody. You began to realize this Yoongi guy was more reserved than the rest, giving you a small nod as you awkwardly looked away.

“Sorry about him, he seems quiet- but he does talk! Quite a lot actually,” Jin added, causing Yoongi to nudge him.

“Same with this one,” Violet giggled, looking your way causing you to glare at her. Way to put the spotlight on you.

Luckily for you, your mother just knew so many topics to talk about that she carried a conversation fairly quickly right after your sister’s comment.

You would have listened to it all the way, but to be honest, you were mentally exhausted. Work had you up till 10pm last night and with it being such a jammed pack month already, you completely forgot to pack until this morning. Having to check in two bags, you had to arrive at the airport three hours early to make it in time to depart from all the long lines.

You don’t think anyone beside your dad and Namjoon’s mom were listening to your mom because as you looked around the table, you realized people were either making faces at their friends or just looking anywhere else but the speaker.

That’s when you noticed Taehyung making a silly face your way, causing you to smile at him. But when you did so, you saw from the corner of your eye the restrained individual placing his eyes on you that didn’t leave until he was about to be caught again.

Yeah, you wished this dinner would be over soon.

"That was probably one of the best steaks I have ever digested," Namjoon smiled while wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Did he just say 'digested'?" you heard one of your sister's friend, Mina you believe, whisper to her other friend, Hani, who just shrugged.

After about an hour of awkward conversations that consisted of when Violet and Namjoon would be making babies and who would take custody if they both randomly die, dinner was finally over.

To be honest, you were glad that you were mostly not chosen to speak. That was until your mother thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring up your personality compared to your sisters, in which she made sure to mention the one time in 4th grade when you threw a tantrum and bursted into tears because you didn't want her to leave you alone on the first day of school.

Violet made sure to clarify how immature you were as a fourth grader, in which you thought if it would really be bad punching her in the face right then and there. You were sure makeup could cover the bruises.

"I should probably get going, I think your father is getting off soon from work," you heard Namjoon's mom say, slowly standing up before giving her son a warm hug.

Following the signs, everyone began standing up, getting ready to say their goodbyes. That was until your sister suddenly spoke up, becoming an announcer.

"Wait I forgot to mention, tomorrow is day 1 out of 7!" she cheered as her fiancee placed an arm on her lower back. "Don't forget to bring your shoes!"

"What's tomorrow?" You thought, but apparently out loud as everyone glanced your way, causing you to look back at Violet.

"You don't know?!" she gasped, looking back towards your mom. "Did you not tell her?" Watching as your mother softly gave her a small smile, your sister's eyes made their way back to you in disbelief. "It's our first dance rehearsal."

"Dance rehearsal?" You squinted your eyes, not believing how in the world she planned to make people learn a dance in under a week. "You do understand your wedding is in 6 days right after tomorrow, right?"

"We couldn't plan practices earlier because you and Jin don't live near here and we didn't want you both going out of your way to get here for it," Namjoon commented. "That would've been too expensive."

Realization hit you, you have to dance...in front of people.

Looking up, you tried showing a relaxed expression, but you're sure you only pulled out an uncomfortable one at the thought of having to publicly dance when you are in fact the worse dancer ever.

Truth be told, you wish you can easily agree and go with the flow, but knowing yourself the best you know you cannot pull this off. There is a reason why you dropped dance class in high school and it was because you kept making your partner's toes bleed from stepping on them so much.

But before you could speak up, or as if you were going to, your sister beat you to it. "You're doing it, no exceptions," she pointed a finger at you.

"You can be my partner!" Jimin exclaimed, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, trying to cheer you up. "I'm a great dancer."

"I beg to differ," Taehyung crossed his arms. "Have you seen these hips? Been shaking them since I was eight years-old."

"Just Dance doesn't count," Jimin hissed, making Tae scoff.

"It does when you're undefeated!"

Before the two of them could continue their bickering, your sister intervened. "None of you are dancing with her, I've already assigned partners," and right when they were going to ask who she added, "and you're not finding out until tomorrow. I don't want you trying to ask us to privately change your partners tonight so deal with it."

That definitely made them shut up before she carried on saying farewell to everybody.

You being you, you stood there stiff as everyone hugged each other. Never knowing how to really say 'bye', you often just waved. It was your thing.

You felt large arms wrap around you, causing you to gasp for air from the tight hold. "It was so nice meeting you, y/n!" You heard Jin burst out before pulling away. "Hoping we end up as partners, you seem so chill."

Certain that that was not going to happen, you sheepishly nodded. Not that you did not want him as a partner, to be fair, you probably would have chosen him as one of your top choices if it were up to you only because he seemed friendly and welcoming.

However, he was the best man.

Everybody knows the best man always gets paired with the maid of the honor, in which you believe was Naile.

Once he moved passed you to say his goodbyes with your parents, you noticed Yoongi finishing his farewells with Namjoon's mom before turning in your direction.

Shifting your eyes somewhere else in the room, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach.

For some reason, interacting with someone else who is also quiet but now intimidating made you extra nervous, fearful they might randomly lash out on you.

Just before Yoongi could at least give you a small nod, like he had done earlier, Namjoon announced that we should all be on our ways as the restaurant probably wanted us gone by now.

Running up to Jimin, you followed your friends and cousin out the door. Not noticing the pair of eyes following your every move up until you were out of sight.

Finally, now you can go home and sleep.

Waking up this morning was hard for you, especially when you knew how stressful it was going to be.

Maybe it was because you knew what was to come but didn't at the same time. It was safe to say you were panicking the whole drive to the small park your sister booked for the morning.

However, your sister was nothing close to nervous, in fact, she was beaming in joy throughout the car ride, constantly telling you she was excited to be a day closer to her wedding.

"Don't freak out too much about practice, okay?" Violet began as she parked the car. "None of them have experience dancing, except Hobi and maybe like Jimin and whatever Tae thinks is dancing, but other than that we all suck."

"Thanks for the pep talk, I feel so much better," you sarcastically declare before opening the door and getting out.

"I'm serious! I know you well enough to see how anxious you are about this," she argued. "But I made sure to pick an easy dance we all can learn within a few days"

You only sighed. There was nothing you could really do at this point so there was not much convincing she was doing to make you feel better. Plus, it's her day. You kind of have to do whatever she wants whether you like it or not.

Following her to a medium-sized building, you noticed how nice this park really was. There was a huge duck pond on one side with a beautiful garden all around.

Where does she find these places?

As you two opened the doors, she led you down a hallway until you were walking into a pretty large banquet room. You saw mostly everyone was here, besides Jin and Namjoon, but other than that everyone was here.

"Where's my man?" Your sister questioned, setting her bag on one of the side tables as you closely followed behind her.

"Trying to figure out where he put his dancing shoes," Hoseok stated, lying back on the chair he was sitting in. "Hi, y/n."

You softly waved, seeing that Taehyung and Yoongi were sitting right next to him. Tae was too busy playing some game on his phone to notice your presence as Yoongi just gave you a brief glimpse before going on his phone as well.

"What took you forever to get here?" Jungkook asked, pulling up a seat right next to you on one of the empty tables you sat in. You felt Jimin sit next to him, waiting for your answer.

"Violet couldn't leave the house without shaving her face," you whispered, hoping she didn't hear that or else she would come up with something 10x worse to joke about you.

"I did notice something was different about her," Jimin joked, making you all laugh.

After talking for some time as your sister kept trying to call her fiancee, you heard the slam of a door with the sounds of footsteps nearing.

It appeared that Namjoon probably found his shoes with the help of Jin as they both ran in together, breathing a little heavy as your sister put her hand on her hip.

"Ready," he smiled, trying not to provoke your sister anymore.

Knowing your sister, she was probably going to hire some dance teacher to teach you guys proper techniques. What you did not know was that this instructor was going to make you freestyle your own ending steps with your partners.

Or at least that's what the instructor mentioned after they showed up fifteen minutes late due to "traffic."

But now that they have said it, no one knew who their partners were.

"Time for the moment everyone's been waiting for," your sister stomped her feet and motioned everyone to come near her. Once we did so, she asked, "who wants to know first?"

Jungkook raised his hand quickly. "Me!"

"I think we should make this a little fun," Violet smirked. "Let's write the pair's names on paper, randomly mix them in a bowl and then draw."

Namjoon nodded, not really caring too much about how this was going to be done. He just wanted to begin lessons, already knowing that he wasn't quite the best when it came to body movements only for the world to see.

You were despising every second of this. As the clock kept on ticking, you kept thinking about who your partner would be.

It's not like anyone here was truly horrible- or so you thought.

Plus, you had a high chance of getting the three boys you loved to death. However, your sister did say Jimin and Taehyung were out of the picture, so your only hope was your cousin.

But in your opinion, you weren't familiar with Namjoon's friends. Jin seemed like a sweetheart, but maybe the close proximity of dancing with someone who was practically a stranger was getting in your head.

The main person you were worried about was Yoongi.

It's not like you completely disliked him, you never dislike anyone unless you had a reason to. It was that you didn't know him.

You didn't know Jin either, but the difference was Jin made an effort to communicate to others. Yoongi just sits there with a blank expression, making you question if he is judging or ignoring you.

It's quite intimidating, really.

And with you being extremely quiet too, well... two quiet people don't really work well- or in a situation where both have to actively dance.

"Jimin and Leia!" you heard Namjoon announce.

Damn.

"Sorry, y/n," Jimin mouthed, making you swat your hand in reassurance that you were fine. I guess he's known you for so long to understand how frightening this was for you.

But you're a big girl, you'll get through this.

"Taehyung and Yuna!" Your sister roared.

Okay, maybe not.

Finally, after Hoseok and Jin were called, your nerves were getting to you. Now was not the time to overthink, whatever happens- happens.

Jungkook wasn't making this easier as he kept waving his arms around, mouthing the words "we're definitely partners." And for a split second, you began to believe him.

Well, that was until-

"Y/n and Yoongi," Namjoon called out, making your face fall. Violet began clapping her hands while her fiancee proudly smiled.

Feeling your face turn red, you continue staring at Namjoon as he slowly tilted his head to the side for you to go to your new partner, in which you responded with continuing on your stare.

It felt like hours before you felt someone's presence beside you, causing Namjoon to fix his attention back to announcing who's Jungkook's partner was going to be.

Moving your head slightly to the right, you could make out the bright blonde hair immediately. Yoongi was sitting next to you, oh my-

"I guess we're uh- partners?" he lightly squinted his eyes before looking directly at your own.

You felt weak at the knees by this eye contact, how are you going to make it through the week?

"R-right," you began, mentally screaming at yourself for stuttering "I mean right! Yeah, how uhm..cool?"

"Not really," he sighed, making your eyes widen. Was he really not that happy by this decision? "I don't dance much"

Relief hit you by his answer, okay maybe he doesn't hate you. "Don't worry, I'm on the same boat."

"Namjoon knows I don't do any of this," Yoongi cringed to himself. Does he mean dancing? "I'm sure your sister knows you aren't great either, they should have just partnered us up with someone who wasn't going to make us look humiliating."

Ouch, that stung.

You shut your mouth, not sure what to reply. You understood his point, but at the same time you didn't. It was beginning to become clear now that maybe he wasn't happy with this setup.

"Are we ready to begin?" you heard the instructor exclaim, causing you to look past Yoongi in which you were grateful this small conversation would have to be cut. "Please come forward and spread out, only your partners should be near you!"

Rubbing your fingers, you slowly followed after Yoongi who took the lead towards the middle of the spaced out "dance floor," or the only area in this room that did not have folding tables. The two of you ended up on the side while the others placed themselves throughout the middle and front of the teacher.

After listening to him ramble on about the needed chemistry between partners and showing how our hands must be placed on his practice dummy, who was Namjoon- which Violet did not like, it was time for everyone else to follow.

"Remember, the men are the leads! Take your lady's hand with your left and place your right on her hip! I want to feel the sexual tension from here!"

"Or a comfortable tension," Namjoon interfered.

Looking up at Yoongi, you saw him dully take his left hand out to grab your right one. By his lack of emotion, it triggered you to malfunction and embarrass the hell out of yourself.

He could feel how stiff your body was once he grabbed your hand, beginning to place his right hand behind on your mid back.

"Closer!" the instructor popped out of nowhere, causing you to flinch and almost trip over Yoongi's shoes. Yes, you just stepped on his shoes- he probably hates you now. "Hand on hip! You'll get the rhythm faster."

"No thanks, I'd rather not," Yoongi plainly stated, but was pushed inches away from your face when the instructor pushed you both forward.

You tried your best to look anywhere then at him, but it was incredibly hard. You did catch him throwing out a few glances a few times, but he would always divert his attention somewhere else when he noticed how uncomfortable you reacted to it.

"Do y-you think we should do what they are doing?" You asked, referring to steps that were just given to follow. Everybody else were figuring out the new footwork, but your partner just stood there as if he wanted to die already.

He simply just ignored you, only looking at what Jungkook and his partner were doing. In which, your cousin was swinging the poor girl around while she tried to slow him down in fear.

God, you wish this was over already.

"So...how did you like it?!" Violet questioned, sitting down on the bed in your old bedroom while you hid under the blankets. "It was fun, huh?"

"You call that fun?" You groaned, sitting up. "I want a new partner."

"What? No way! Yoongi will be hurt you wanted to switch."

"How if he was the one who questioned why we weren't switched in the first place?"

Violet gasped, "He said that?"

Nodding, you wiped some hair away from your face. "He also refused to put his hand on my hip. Is my body too gross for him or what?"

It did hurt your feelings he wouldn't listen to the basic suggestions, but if he didn't want to then there was nothing you could do.

"Maybe it was a respect thing- like to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries?"

Thinking about it for a second, she could be right.

"We just don't mix well, he would just ignore me any time I asked questions or spoke up," You sighed. "Please change my partner-"

"-I can't, we already began rehearsals," She cut you off.

"But we only learned basic steps! I can dance with a whole other human being and get it down with them! Please, please-"

"-no-"

"I can tell he despises every minute of this," You whine. "He's not into it and I'm just holding him back! You already know how scary this is to throw myself out there for this dance, at least let me be with someone who seems comfortable with me. It'll make me less anxious."

Your sister gave you a look, taking her time to think hard about this. She wanted you to feel fully comfortable, but it would be so unfair to switch partners the next day after announcing them.

"You know I want you to feel at your best, but the decision has been made and I-"

"If you let me switch I'll clean your room for a year," You rambled.

She rolled her eyes, "nice try, you don't even live nearby!"

"I'll send you money to buy your favorite meals twice a month!"

Violet gave you a stern look. "Y/n, no means no. I-"

"I'll say a speech at your wedding!"

That made her shut up.

This shocked you too because you avoided this topic from the start when she told you she was engaged. You hated talking, better yet- talking in front of people? No way, impossible to do!

"You would never, you can't even order your food without stuttering."

She didn't have to come at you like that..

"I promise!" you begged, jumping in front of her as she rolled her eyes.

Hearing her sigh, you felt weight being lifted off your shoulder. "Fine! You can have Hoseok, he's a quick learner anyway."

Almost making your sister fall off the bed as you tackled her in a hug, you cheered. "Thank you! Thank you! Tha-"

"Shut up already," she scrunched her face, pushing you off harshly. "I'm only doing this because you seem to feel really uncomfortable being near him and my sister instincts are going off."

You nodded quickly, trying to be on your best behavior so she doesn't change her mind.

"It kind of sucks though," she shrugged. "Namjoon and I thought you would be the perfect fit, you two are so alike"

"Being antisocial doesn't automatically mean we'll hit it off."

"Sorry, wouldn't know what that's like," she smiled and stood up from your bed. "I'm gonna go check on mom and the centerpieces, you should text Hobi a heads up for this week."

Once she left the room, you pulled out your phone to text him. You hope you weren't being a total bitch for doing this, but you doubt Yoongi would get offended.

He was the one who suggested it.

#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #suga #suga imagine #strangers to lovers #bts x reader #bts suga #bts yoongi #agust d #bts fanfic #bts

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amourjins · 1 year ago

Text

POINT OF VIEW — extra. lego building + uchinaga aeri

prev - next - masterlist

[1/21/24 - 4:01pm]

“what?” minjeong giggled, staring at aeri through facetime.

aeri was placed in her room, building legos on her desk. she had her phone leaned up on something to give minjeong, jimin, and ning a view of her lego building.

“has aeri always had this obsession with legos?” yizhuo asked, as aeri took out the packets of legos and the instructions out of the box. “yes.” aeri answered before grabbing the first packet and flipping through the instructions. “what are you building, anyway?” jimin questioned, “lotus flowers, i didnt know what to build so i just got this,” aeri showed the packaging to her phone camera.

“ooh.. lotus flowers? theyre pretty,” yizhuo smiled, aeri just nodding and opening the first packet, dumping it onto her desk. the pieces scattered, few dropping as she went down to pick them up. “ah, you guys, ive heard jake is trying to get with yn.” jimin stated, almost sounding disappointed. aeri stayed silent, all though, the look on her face changed distinctively. “im not surprised,” minjeong clicked her tongue. “jake.. any eye contact he makes with a girl, he thinks the girl wants him.”

aeri started to build the flowers, looking around her desk for the pieces that she needed. “you think yn will fall for jake?” jimin asked. “whaat? yn? no, ive known her for long enough to know that she wouldnt.” ning assured. aeri didnt say a word, focusing on her legos as she snapped the pieces together. the thought of ‘ln yn’ made her wanna jump off a cliff, and it was obvious.

she flipped to the next page of the instructions as the other three talked. they went on about unnecessary things, such as.. aliens, the new world, virtual stuff, etc. aeri only let out a few mumbles as responses, not looking up at her phone until that is,

yn gets mentioned again.

her head perks up at the name ‘yn’. the others continued to talk, but they clearly noticed aeri directing her attention to them when yn was mentioned. they shrug it off, and soon, aeri hops back into the conversation, but still, of course, building her legos.

a few minutes pass, and aeri finishes the first flower. “i’m done!” she announces happily before holding up a pink, lotus flower. yizhuos face lit up in awe, admiring it until aeri set it down gently on her desk, setting it aside. “theyre pretty.” jimin praises, “for real! are you building the white one next?” yizhuo asked, curious. aeri got the second packet out, and she nodded her head to confirm.

as time goes on, the other three still talking, the topics getting even dumber, “zorp vorp binted zinky zoogle forp meep?” minjeong blabbered. aeri raised her eyebrow, looking up from her legos. “youre going insane jeong..” jimin sighed, minjeong shaking her head. “anyway.. you done yet, aeri? its been around 20 to 30 minutes or so..” ning stated, as right in that moment, aeri put the last piece on to the last flower. “yup, just finished.” aeri says, holding up all three—there was two pink ones, and one white. (PINK + WHITE REF WBK) she slumped in her chair for about thirty seconds before getting up and stretching.

“dont forget, you guys! café tomorrow,” jimin reminded. “and dont worry, aeri, you wont be seeing yn,” minjeong added, giggling. aeri gave minjeong a look before ning spoke up, “okay but, where are we meeting? like we’ll all head to the cafe and meet there or..” ning trailed off, waiting for a response. “im fine with either, you guys make the decision and text me when you have.” aeri responded.

“oka!—”

ning got cut off when aeri left the facetime, as she sighed, grabbing the trash on her desk and heading to throw it away.

“you wont see yn,”

the words pounded in her head.

she hoped she didnt. yn fucking made her blood boil.

TAGLIST (open!) — @modanisgf @aeriniee @jongocat @sunshinez4 @aeriigfs @yeetaberry127 @mxl633 @multiliker @lisaswifey @bing-uzzz @yukianism @lettertolovers @gtfoiydlyj @aerisgirlfriend @vernonburger @yjiminswallet @sixflame438 @bzeus28 @gornoi @linnnsworld @masuowo @mr11inches

a/n : WOOOOOO pov updayes .. but its not an actial chapter!’ wtv! STREAM ARMAGEDDON!!!!! (+ jake ily all of this is fiction!!!!)

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dopingconsomme · 1 month ago

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#1 #2025-05-14t10:53:01z #ものづくり #アームトロン #オーパーツ #トミー #レトロ玩具 #ロボット #技術 #教育 #昭和 #歴史 #May 14 #2025 at 08:01PM

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fr0mthefires · 2 months ago

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haunted. - vampire!shigaraki x f!reader / part 7

cw: not beta read, descriptions of abuse/child abuse, blood, heavy sexual content, mdni ~13.3k words

one two three four five six

[Received on November 4]

5:43pm

-> toga⋆ heeyyy I miss u :( come hang out with me!!

5:57pm

-> toga⋆ pleaseeee the testosterone is suffocating

[Received on November 7]

7:21pm

-> toga⋆ jin is talking to himself again, ur the only one that can get him out of his loops, helpppp

[Received on November 12]

6:56pm

-> jinny Hey, what does ‘eccentric’ mean? Dabi just called me that. It sounds like a compliment!:)

7:01pm

-> jinny Nevermind. It wasn’t a compliment.

-> jinny He was nicer when you were around. Kind of. Come back!:)

[Received on November 15]

1:37am

-> Unknown Number Come take out whatever stick he’s got shoved up his ass before I kill him.

1:38am

-> Unknown Number Uh. Please.

[Received on November 23]

4:09pm

-> toga⋆ at least let me know ur not dead :(

I’m not dead. <-

-> toga⋆ omg u replied!! ily pls come hang out with me, I promise I’ll make sure he’s not here

[Read: 4:11pm]

The texts had stopped coming after that.

You assume they’d finally taken the hint. As much as it hurts to ignore them, lose all of them on top of… him, it hurts more to constantly be reminded. Of Tomura, the brief but admittedly enjoyable time you had with all of them, the private moments you had with him before he pulled the rug out from under you as quick as it had started, the night he reminded you that no, you’re not lovable, and yes, you were an idiot to believe that maybe you were after all.

It still doesn’t make sense no matter how many times you go over it in your mind to figure out what you’d done wrong. He’d left that day, smiling and soft and happy with promises to come back to you, and then he’d shown up two days later looking like your Tomura but somehow not at the same time. Whatever he’d gone to do that day, whoever he’d seen and whatever they’d talked about, he’d come back wrong. He was not your Tomura, not the one who you'd come to know as your fated other half. As it turns out, he was never really your Tomura at all.

***

“I’m not good for - no, you’re not good for me. You shouldn’t come back, and I won’t come here again. It’d be best for both of us.”

You step back from him, the hand you’d reached out to him falling limply to your side. You stare at him for several quiet, tense moments, waiting for him to take it back, to tell you it’s some kind of fucked up joke, but he remains silent, his blank expression giving nothing away. Surely you heard him wrong then, because how could he say that to you after everything?

“What? Where is this coming from? I thought-”

Tomura cuts you off, not even having the courtesy to let you finish your sentence. “It doesn’t matter what you thought. You can’t - I don’t want you. Don’t want any of this.” He looks away from you, his gaze casted off to the side like he can’t even stomach looking at you anymore. You suddenly feel self-conscious in a way you never have around him, your many insecurities he’d made you forget about resurfacing all at once.

“Things were easier before you showed up. There’s been nothing but problems since.” He’d sounded distressed at first, but now he sounds harsh and bitter, like he actually means what he’s saying. And why wouldn’t he? He’s right - you’ve brought nothing but complications with you since day one, ones he’s had to fix himself each time. His life likely was simpler before you came along. You’re nothing special, nothing like him. You’re just human, plain and uninteresting, a liability.

You’ve wondered a few times if he’d still want you if the bond wasn’t there, and now he doesn’t want you even with the supernatural thread tying you together. You should’ve known better, really. Your own mother couldn’t even find it in herself to love you, so why would he? Why would he be any different than anyone else? But he had been, hadn’t he? All the things he’s said, everything he’s told you, the way he looks at you and touches you. No, this isn’t right. Something is so, so wrong, something he’s not telling you.

There has to be a reason, some kind of explanation other than you’re just not good enough. Fuck, you don’t think you can handle it if it’s as simple as that. It’d be easier to stomach if he hated you instead, because at least that would make sense. He didn’t ask for you, didn’t get a real choice in any of this. It’d be easier to understand if that’s what forced him away from you.

“Tomura, what happened? Why are you doing this?” You’re painfully aware of how pitiful you sound, your voice meek and brittle. There’s a flicker of something in his expression then, something that looks a lot like the anguish you’d seen yesterday when he’d shown you the memory with his mother. When you’d woken up in his bed, in his arms, feeling safer than you think you ever have since your father passed away.

Tomura’s eyes squeeze shut, his shoulders rising and falling with a deep inhale and exhale, and when they open again, any semblance of emotion your imagination had conjured up in an attempt to cope with the situation is gone. “Stop. Don’t. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” He’s shoving his shoes back on, and you think you should say something else, do something to get him to stop, but nothing comes. You just watch silently, as helpless and useless as you’ve always been as all the things he’s told you play in your mind like a fucked up soundtrack to this moment.

“Saving you is the only real thing I have left to live for.”

“You’re everything.”

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Ever.”

“Don’t be sorry for me. Not when I had you waiting for me at the end of it all.”

All of that, how soft he is around you, the things he’s done for you. He’s killed people for you just to keep you safe, opened up to you about himself and his life, told you his biggest secret in hopes that you’ll still want to be with him afterward. He’d told you he’s not sure he could live without you, that you’re everything, and now that means nothing?

You’re angry then, or maybe it’s just the hurt manifesting itself that way. Whatever it is, you grab onto it tightly with both hands and don’t let go. It’s the only lifeline you have left. “Fine. If that’s what you want. But if you go, if this is how you leave things, don’t ever fucking come back.” You glare daggers into his back, the blur of tears stinging your eyes not quite enough to hide the way his shoulders stiffen. He doesn’t turn around, and he doesn’t say anything else, just reaches for the doorknob in the painful silence that follows.

There’s a millisecond where his fingers hover over the metal, not quite touching it yet, and you think maybe he’s hesitating. Tomura’s head turns just enough to make out the slope of his nose and the barest hint of crimson in the corner of his eye, and it seems like he’s about to say something, but he just shakes his head, a curtain of white falling between you before he disappears out the door.

The soft click of it shutting behind him is deafening in the silence, and the only things you have left of him are the clothes you’d borrowed folded in your drawer and the drops of water where he’d just been standing.

***

It doesn’t get easier to remember that night, not the first time you’d replayed it in your mind and not now, even nearly two months later. You regret not doing more to stop him everyday. Maybe if you had, he’d still be here. Maybe you’d be like him now, or maybe you’d be his entirely, forever. You think maybe you still are, even after everything. You didn’t have a lot of time with Tomura, but the time you did have was enough to let you know that he was it. Your last chance at happiness, at finding someone who could somehow love you and want you despite everything that’s wrong with you. But now you have nothing but maybes, what-ifs, and memories that get a little more blurry the more you try not to think of them.

Needless to say, things are bad again. To be fair, you’re not sure they’d necessarily gotten good yet, but they’d been heading that direction. At least that’s what you’d thought, anyway. Stupid, stupid you.

It had been cold and rainy the last time you’d seen him, the streets dotted with fallen leaves. Now it’s frigid and icy, the concrete blanketed in a white that reminds you far too much of him, the fall having come and gone and winter in full swing. That’s the only real way you’ve kept track of the days since, the way the world changes outside your window. It’s a bizarre feeling, how the world as you know it has come to a full stop, but life still moves on around you right outside.

It’s been around eight weeks since you last saw Tomura and the same amount of time since you’d stepped foot in the club, yet the direct deposits still hit your bank account like clockwork. The amount is suspiciously more than it had been when you’d been working for him, and you think maybe it’s his way of making up for the tips you’re missing out on now. That, or he just knows all too well how bad off you’d been prior to landing that goddamn job. Either way, you’d figure out how to wire it all back if you didn’t need the money, too busy feeling sorry for yourself and staying holed up in your apartment to look for yet another job.

Life is weird and empty and silent again in a way that it hasn’t been since you’d met him, and the only reassurance you have that any of it was real at all is through the borrowed clothes you’ve slept in nearly every night since and the briefest of glimpses in your dreams. Tomura doesn’t come to you anymore the way he used to; instead, you get a quiet black void that seems to stretch on forever no matter how far you wander through it to find him. You think maybe it’s meant to be peaceful and serene, but there’s a suffocating emptiness there each time, a bone-deep anguish that bombards you from all sides. You’d prefer the nightmares if this wasn’t the only real piece of him you have left.

You don’t understand why he bothers, both with the money and the dreamscapes. He’d made it clear that this is what he wants, that he wants nothing to do with you and the problems you cause him. It’s easy enough to assume he’s only paying your way through life and fending off your bad dreams because he feels sorry for you, pity for the human girl who was stupid enough to think anyone could ever want her, let alone someone so unlike her in too many ways to count.

He’s as vigilant as always whatever the reason, never making a mistake in showing himself physically. He’s only slipped up one time, around two or three weeks ago maybe, you’re not sure. You’d been trudging through the darkness for what felt like days, wandering aimlessly when you’d seen him. Even from a distance in that suspended space, he’d looked as awful as someone that ethereal could; haggard, so worn out and exhausted for someone that can’t and doesn’t need to sleep. By the time you’d gotten close enough to try to reach for him, he’d already realized what he’d done, had already started to shove you back out.

The tormented look in his eyes as he’d disappeared from your life for the second time has haunted you ever since.

***

“That’s the last of them after Kurogiri made off with the rest. Dr. Garaki did what he could, but questions have started circulating. We can’t take anymore without it raising more flags.”

Tomura stares blankly at the six bags of O negative spread out on the bar counter, one for each of them. He’s not really absorbing what’s being said, nor does he care enough to try. He doesn’t even know who had been speaking. Maybe Shuichi. Everything’s white noise now and has been for… shit, how many days has it been? He doesn’t know. He lost count after fourteen, and they’ve all blended together into one indistinguishable blur at this point, anyway.

Absorbing Rikiya’s operation has been just as shitty as he thought it would be, and it’s been far easier to dissociate and drift through on autopilot instead of facing the reality he knows he deserves. He’s lost track of how many cryptids have passed through the doors since he’d officially taken over - maybe twenty, maybe more - each of them tortured in ways even Tomura had never thought possible, dissected and flayed and surveyed before they’re eventually taken to slaughter, their heads on the wall becoming more trophies for Master’s collection.

The long-haired freak - Tomura thinks his name is Tomoyasu - says the same thing each time. “Soon. Soon, we will have what we need to have your Master restored to health and beyond. We are just missing one thing, something we have yet to figure out.” And each time, Tomura dies a little more inside knowing that the freak is likely right. He’s seen the progress for himself, and even though most of it is a bunch of scientific bullshit he can’t understand, the excited murmurs bordering the edge of the breakthrough are enough to go by.

It wasn’t long ago at all that Tomura had thought he wanted that - Master in full health, back at the helm of everything. Now, though, he wants him to wither away to nothing, wants to watch as he takes his final breath, see the light in his eyes fade when he drives that fucking dagger of Rikiya’s through his chest. He’s not sure who he hates more, if he’s honest. Himself for being stupid enough to think that someone like Master could ever care for him beyond his use and value, or Master for being the common denominator of all his torment and suffering.

He’s had plenty of time to reflect as of late, if nothing else. The hours he’d planned to spend with you are now filled with recounting every miserable detail of both of his lives, and each monumental disaster can be traced back to Master in some way. The hatred his father had for him, that fateful day at his family home, the transformation into the monster he is now, the loss of his literal soulmate that saw past all that and still somehow wanted him anyway, the fucked up reality he’s being forced to live in now, it all leads back to Master. Tomura has never thought of himself as stupid by any means, but goddamn does he feel like a fucking fool for not piecing it all together sooner.

Maybe if his childhood hadn’t been such a fucking tragedy, maybe if he’d had the luxury of growing up normal, he wouldn’t have lept into the arms of the first stranger that showed him any modicum of sympathy. Maybe he would’ve seen through Master’s bullshit from the very beginning when he’d come up to him on the streets that day instead of devoting his life to him. Maybe he could’ve been happy, grew up a normal human boy with a normal human childhood.

But then he would’ve never met you, would’ve never known there was someone out there so perfectly made for him. He’d meant it when he’d told you all his suffering had been worth it because you were waiting for him at the end of it all. Tomura would have never imagined there was an end waiting for the both of you too when he’d said that. Now all he has are fucking maybes and what-ifs and a constant agony that follows him wherever he goes because you’re not there to help chase his demons away anymore.

“This isn’t enough. We’ll have to go back to picking through the crowd or go outside the city in pairs.”

The conversation that’s apparently still happening around him drags him out of his inner torment long enough to remember he’s supposed to be listening. That was Jin, Tomura thinks. Or maybe it was Atushiro. It all sounds the same to him now.

“Here is too risky. The investigation into all the missing persons is still active. We’ll have to travel. It’ll be inconvenient, but we can make it work for now.”

For now.

As if the situation will ever get better than it is at present.

The discussion continues, a distant hum in his ears, but Tomura’s had enough. They didn’t have to drag him out of his room for this, and he’d be pissed about it if he had it in him. He stands abruptly from the bar stool, the conversation halting immediately. The way they all stare at him like he’s a wounded animal makes him want to crawl out of his fucking skin. “One of you can have mine.” That’s as good of a farewell as they get before he’s stalking off to the door, their gazes trailing after him. He can’t find it in himself to give a damn.

The only thing that stops him is the sound of hands slamming down on the bar, the faintest splintering of wood beneath them. “You have to drink it, you fucking idiot. How long are you planning to keep up this woe is me bullshit, anyway?” Any other time, Tomura would flip his shit if someone talked to him like that, but it seems even Dabi can’t get a rise out of him anymore. He ignores him like he’s ignored everything else as of late, too numb to entertain the attempt at goading.

He’s almost to the door, finally on the cusp of miserable solitude again when a hand clamps down on his shoulder, hard enough to bruise if it was possible. Dabi spins him around, and he lets him, too checked out to care. Tomura stares at him, but he doesn’t see him, not really. He doesn’t see much of anything anymore other than your face when he closes his eyes. “It’s been two goddamn months. We’re all fucking sick of this. You left her. You made your choice, so either learn how to live with it or fucking fix it instead of wasting away to nothing, goddamn it!” Two months? Is that all? It feels like it’s been at least two years.

Tomura’s vision focuses for the first time in what feels like forever, and despite how harsh Dabi’s words are, there’s concern in his expression, something Tomura doesn’t think he’s ever seen on his stupid fucked up face before. There’s a flicker of something in the emptiness then, an anguish he’s worked hard and ultimately failed to bury, and once it fully surfaces, he can’t shove it away. It must show on his face because Dabi’s grip on his shoulder loosens, his brows pinching together.

“You think I don’t know that?” he murmurs, his voice raspy with disuse, so quiet and pained he hardly recognizes it as his. The image of your face before he’d walked through your door seared into his memory is reminder enough of what he’d done, not to mention the constant flow of your emotions through the goddamn bond, the ever-present reminder that his other half is gone and half of him is gone with it. Dabi’s hand drops from his shoulder entirely then, and Tomura almost wishes he’d kept it there. He may collapse without it. “You think I haven’t tried?” His voice raises with each word, his tone almost hysterical by the end. “Do you think I want to feel like this all the fucking time?”

Toga appears beside him then, or maybe she’d already been there and he hadn’t noticed. “We know you have, Tomura. We know.” She wraps her arms around his middle, and if it was under any other circumstances, he would immediately recoil from the contact and push her away. Your touch is the only contact he wants, the only contact he can tolerate. Toga glares at Dabi, who has the grace to almost look apologetic as he steps back to give some space. “You can talk to us, you know. You don’t have to deal with this by yourself.” She sounds so worried for him, and for likely the first time since he’s known them, Tomura starts to realize maybe he does have people that give a shit about him other than you.

Well, likely not you anymore. That thought almost sends him to his knees, Toga’s arms around him the only thing keeping him upright.

You’re the only one he’s ever really opened up to in any meaningful capacity, and he doesn’t know if he can do that with anyone else, but fuck, if it’ll make this even the slightest bit easier to handle, maybe he could try. He nods once and forces the words out of his mouth before he has a chance to come to his senses and change his mind. “It feels like half of me has been ripped away. She was never even fully mine, and it still feels like this. And now she hates me, and I hate myself, and I don’t know how to fucking fix it.”

Toga guides him back to the line of bar stools as he speaks, her hold never faltering on him even after he sits down. It’s… comforting, something he’d often wished for from his own sister way back when but never got. Atsuhiro nods at him to continue, a sad, reassuring smile on his face, and Shuichi places a careful hand on his shoulder, squeezing once in what Tomura thinks is encouragement. Jin looks like he’s about to fucking cry or laugh or both, and Dabi keeps his distance, leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, but he stays, offering silent support in the only way he knows how.

Tomura looks down at the floor, unable to hold eye contact with any of them. This is already uncomfortable enough. He clears his throat, searching for the words, but when none come he just spits out barely coherent sentences and hopes they make sense. “I can’t explain it, but the thing that’s tying me to her is constantly clawing and tearing at me to try to get back to her. I can’t turn it off, can’t fucking think about anything else, can’t see anything but her face. I can’t focus on anything but her. Everything is just wrong, fucked up, and I’m in fucking agony all the time, like I’m burning alive from the inside out.”

He takes a deep breath, and the silence tells him it’s okay to continue.

“I can feel her all the time, all her emotions, everything. She’s always there, all around me. I don’t think she knows, and I could block it if I wanted to, but it’s the only thing I have left of her. The only reassurance I have that she’s still out there.” He knows it’d be best for him to shut you out, silence the constant flow of your emotions and shut off the warmth of your presence in his mind, but your scent had faded entirely from his room and his car weeks ago, and he has to have something, anything to get him through this.

If torturing himself like this is the only way he can still have a part of you, so be it, even if it’s selfish and wrong to have you without your knowledge. He thinks it’s fair, at least, that you get to torture him in some way even if you don’t know.

“I’m always so fucking exhausted from the constant effort of not letting her feel me because I don’t want her to know how fucked up I am over it. She can’t know. I need her to think that I don’t care, that I don’t want her. And it’s so fucking stupid how easily she believed me. As if everything I ever said and did for her never happened. Things I could never say to anyone else.”

Tomura’s voice breaks on the last word, and he’d throw himself out a seven story window from the embarrassment if he had it in himself to give a shit. You really had believed him almost immediately. He’s not sure if he’s more angry or hurt about that. How could you ever think that he doesn’t want you? Doesn’t need you? He’d made it obvious enough that you were his reason for breathing, hadn’t he? Sure, he’s not great with words, but fuck, he’d tried so hard to be good for you in the only ways he knew how.

It’s laughable, really, that someone as perfect as you could ever believe someone like him is anything but lucky to have you. You really must think the worst of him to have been able to think everything he’s said and done for you was an act, that it meant nothing. He wishes he could tell you that you’re the only one that will ever get to see that side of him, the side of him made just for you. Even now, he’s doing what he can in a sad attempt to atone for what he’s done, but the money and the dreams are nowhere near as much as you deserve. He’d give you the entire fucking world if he could, give you everything you want and more, give you the love everyone else in your life failed to show you.

He never thought he’d be capable of love, of feeling it or giving it, but fuck, could he love you enough to make you forget about all the useless idiots that came before him.

Tomura’s chest heaves, the rapid flow of words drying up on his tongue, nothing but the bitter taste of resentment and misery left. What else is there to say, anyway? They’d never understand, not really. Not unless they experience it for themselves, and he’s not sure he’d wish this upon anyone. Well, maybe Master.

The room is uncomfortably quiet and still in the aftermath, like they’re waiting to see if he’s finished or trying to figure out what to say to all of that. He doesn’t know; he’s still too much of a goddamn coward to look at any of them. As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to admit that getting all that off his chest helped ease the weight, even if just a little bit.

Toga’s arms tighten around him, and only then does he realize she’d kept them there the entire time. He still doesn’t push her away. Her voice is quiet when she breaks the silence, softer than he thinks he’s ever heard it. “Why do this then, Tomura? If this is so hard for you, why leave her in the first place?” He freezes, any weight that had been eased immediately crashing back down on him. He naively hadn’t expected that question, hadn’t planned on explaining that particular problem. It’s not like any of them could fix it.

Still, the words leave him without his permission. “Master. He knows about her. Knows what she is to me. I don’t know if Kurogiri told him, or if he just knew somehow.” Shuichi’s fingers flex where they still rest on Tomura’s shoulder, and Atsuhiro’s reassuring expression shudders into a scowl. It’s jarring, to see an expression like that on his face. Tomura can’t remember the last time he’d looked anything but kind and approachable.

“Okaaaay… So? He was bound to find out about her eventually, right?” Jin sounds confused enough that Tomura doesn’t immediately snarl at him out of frustration. Instead, he sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face. “He said something to me about her, said it in a way that I knew it was a threat. I’ve known him long enough to know what he meant. He views her as a liability to me, and thus to him. And you know he doesn’t tolerate liabilities.” Tomura spits the last word, venomous and acidic.

There’s a cold, hostile shift in the room once that detail is revealed; collective glances towards the door that leads to the hallway, stiffening of spines, narrowing of eyes. Tomura watches it happen in real time, yet he still can’t quite believe the way everyone reacts. It seems he’s not the only one that had grown fond of you over the time you'd spent here. He’s not sure how to feel about that, but his ingrained possessiveness aside, he thinks he’s… grateful. Relieved, knowing that you have more than just him watching out for you, even if he’s all you’d ever need.

He’s just about to tell them so, the disgusting, sappy words about to spill out of his parted lips, but he doesn’t quite get the chance.

“You’re an even bigger dumbass than I thought.”

All heads turn to Dabi, who’s still posted up against the wall, his expression bored but his tone resolute. Tomura had forgotten he was even there. Toga looks like she’s about to yell at him, chastise him for being a dick yet again, but he continues before she gets the chance. “You have five people right in front of your fucked up face who’d lay their lives on the line for you. Who have done exactly that several times. You’re an idiot if you think that doesn’t extend to her now, too.”

What had Tomura thought earlier? That maybe he had people other than you that give a shit about him?

Yeah, there’s no maybe about it anymore.

Everyone’s staring at Dabi like he’s grown a second head, but Tomura looks at him like he’s finally starting to understand him, like maybe they can find some kind of common ground after all. When Dabi glances his way, there’s reassurance in his eyes, hidden beneath the smug confidence he always seems to carry so effortlessly. “What? You really think we’d let that shriveled up fuck get his hands on her after you finally became something more than an edgy incel? Get real.” There’s a chorus of agreement that follows, and for the first time, someone other than you makes Tomura realize being loved wouldn’t be all that bad.

Dabi nods at him once, a half smirk on his stupid, patchy face. “Quit sitting there staring at us like the sorry asshole we all know you are and go fix your fuck up.” That’s the final push Tomura needs to go do just that, and he’s down the stairs and out the door before he has a chance to reconsider.

***

The light is off in your window and has been for the last twenty minutes he’s been standing out here in the snow like a fucking creep. Tomura’s not even sure if you’re home, and if you are, he’s sure as hell not sure of what to say to you. It’s not that late, just shy of 9pm, but maybe you’re already asleep for the night. He’s been thinking of all the possible scenarios, running through them all in excruciating detail; you slamming the door in his face or not answering it at all, you yelling obscenities at him, maybe slapping him too, or worst of all, you stumbling down the street with someone else, laughing and smiling as you huddle against their side for warmth.

That one forces a visceral reaction so strong that he has to lean against the wall and count to one hundred in his head to stop himself from nose diving off the nearest cliff. As much as he likes to think he’d murder any worthless excuse of a man brave enough to take you home, he knows deep down that he wouldn’t. Not if he knew you were happy and taken care of, no matter how much it would likely literally and figuratively kill him. That’s all he wants for you, even if he’s not the one to give that to you.

He’s just about psyched himself out enough to turn the fuck around and leave, resign himself to the miserable state of existence he’s in now, when a light flickers on. Tomura can make out the vague outline of a shadow crossing through what he remembers as your living room behind the curtain - just one, thank Christ - and then it passes through again a few moments later. So, you’re home, and hopefully alone. That’s good. Still, he can’t quite get his feet to move just yet, too overwhelmed by something as little as your shadow, too overcome with the knowledge that the only thing separating him from you is a cracked brick wall and a few flights of stairs.

He’d been in this same spot weeks ago, a couple nights after he left you. He’d told himself it was only to make sure you were safe and then he’d go, but then the sun was coming up over the horizon and he realized he’d been out there all night. It wasn’t until the early risers started to make their way out onto the street that he’d finally left and gone home. Well, maybe not home, because his home is tucked away in a little apartment on the outside of the city with all her endearingly nerdy figurines and tastes that match his perfectly.

The warmth that floods him when he thinks of you like that is enough to thaw his frozen limbs, the reassurance he needs to make his way inside and climb the stairs slowly, one at a time. It’s silent and still on the other side of your door, so quiet he almost second guesses what he’d seen through your window. It’s been more than enough days since he last fed - he thinks it’s maybe been about twenty-three now, give or take, a new record he didn’t know was possible - so it’s not exactly out of the realm of possibility that he’s hallucinating or some shit. He really should’ve had that bag of O negative before he came here so he could be stronger both mentally and physically, but that was pretty fucking low on his list of priorities.

The only way he knows what he saw was real is the bizarre sensation running up and down his body, the barely there pulses of electricity flowing through his nerve endings that only show when you’re nearby. Mine, mine, mine. That animal side of his brain resurfaces then, back with a vengeance, stronger now that he’s been away from you for so long. Fuck, that’s going to be an issue. He’s transported back to that night all those weeks ago, when you’d danced on him and he’d struggled so hard to keep himself from sinking his teeth in you. That had taken all the self restraint he’d had, and he’d been fully fed and satiated then. Tomura doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through this now, starved of not just blood but you, too.

He thinks maybe he should leave, come back and do this another day when he’s more centered, but if he goes now he’s not sure he’ll come back. After another ten minutes of deliberating and a suspicious glance from a passing neighbor, he knocks before he has the chance to change his mind. It’s silent long enough that he thinks maybe you didn’t hear it, and he’s about to knock again when he makes out the distant sound of feet shuffling across carpet.

He can feel you then, the half of him that hasn’t been shredded to pieces screaming and fighting to get to you, each footstep magnifying it the closer you get to the door. If his heart functioned, it’d be galloping, his hands shaking from the effort of remaining still and composed. There’s a moment of silence, long and drawn out, but he knows you’re there, nothing but two inches of flimsy wood keeping you from him. Tomura thinks maybe the scenario where you simply don’t answer the door is quickly becoming a devastating reality, but then it creaks open halfway, and the scent of you that he’s craved so fucking terribly ever since it faded from his bedsheets bombards him so fiercely he almost falls to his knees.

“Why are you here.” It’s not phrased as a question, just a hollow statement that cleaves his chest down the middle, but your voice is still music to his ears all the same. Somehow, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it until now, even with how devoid of emotion you sound. He doesn’t realize he hasn’t replied yet until you’re moving to slam the door in his face, far too enamored by the sliver of your face he can see to say anything coherent, and the toe of his boot just barely wedges in the crack on time to stop it from closing entirely.

“Fuck, wait-” You huff and make a show of trying to shut the door anyway, but his foot doesn’t budge, even when the pressure starts to toe the line of uncomfortable. “Why are you here,” you repeat, your tone a little more alive and a lot more angry. Tomura decides then that he’ll take that over the emptiness any day. He flounders, lost for words in the one moment he’s likely ever needed them the most, stammering through whatever first comes to mind. “I- Shit. Um. I wanted to see you.” He cringes at his eloquence or lackthereof, and you scoff, the half of your face that’s visible to him twisting into a sardonic smile.

Tomura hates you looking at him like that almost as much as he hates himself, but even with an expression like that, you’re still so fucking beautiful. “Well, it’s not mutual.” The coldness of your response stuns him enough that you’re able to kick his foot out of the way, the door slamming shut a second afterward. “Wait!” He’s painfully aware of how desperate and frantic he sounds, but he can be embarrassed about that later. You haven’t walked away yet; there’s no sound of retreating footsteps, and he can hear the sound of you breathing, so he knows you’re listening despite pretending otherwise.

Tomura has never begged for anything, not even his father’s attention, but he’ll get on his goddamn knees for you right now if it means you’ll hear him out. You’re the only one he’ll ever be pathetic for. He places his hand on the door and leans his forehead against it, and he swears he can almost feel you beneath his palm, his body alive and responsive even with two inches of wood between you.

“I know you’re still there,” he chances, testing the waters, and when you still don’t walk away, he continues. “I know I said some fucked up things to you, and I know you told me not to come back. You don’t owe me anything, but I just- Let me try to explain. Please.” There’s a little hitch in your breath, the only certainty he has that you are in fact listening, a stupid fucking ember of hope sparking in his chest. “Please,” he repeats, a tired, fragile plea carried on little more than a whisper.

The silence that follows is deafening, and it’s then that it really begins to dawn on him that he may have to live out however many goddamn centuries he has left with the knowledge that he’d ruined his only opportunity to have the happiness he’d spent his entire childhood dreaming about. But then you surprise him, as always, the door flying open so fast he has to catch himself on the frame to save himself from falling face first in your entryway. Maybe he’d be a little irritated by that if he wasn’t so in shock that you’re voluntarily letting him in.

You don’t bother saying anything, or even looking at him, and he watches as you turn on your heel and stalk off deeper into your apartment. Tomura hesitates before he follows you inside, carefully shutting and locking the door behind him. He kicks his boots off, the memory of the last time he’d done exactly that sending a sharp pain lancing through his chest. His gaze finds the spot on the floor where he’d tracked rainwater in that day, and even though he knows it’s long since dried up, he swears he can still see it as clear as if it was still there.

You’re settled on the couch by the time he works up the nerve to follow after you, and you’re very pointedly looking anywhere but at him. The overwhelming scent of you clings to every surface, simultaneously calming him and sending him into a fucking spiral. You glance at him, your eyes burning with enough fire to scald him, and then your gaze flicks to the window he’d been staring up at a mere half hour ago. You’ve opened the curtain sometime between when he went inside and knocked on the door, the city lights a distant glow outside the glass.

It doesn’t feel right to sit next to you despite how badly he wants to, so he opts for the armchair in the corner instead, giving you as much space as he’s currently willing to allow. Tomura locks all his muscles to keep himself in place, the agony of denying his inhuman instincts the one thing they crave more than blood turning this into a dangerous assessment of just how good his self control really is. He takes a moment to just look at you, drink in the sight of you in hopes of calming his nerves and quieting his stupid fucking brain.

You look… tired. Exhausted. He knows you’ve been sleeping because he’s been there in your mind every night while you’re unconscious, but you still look as worn out as he feels. There are dark circles beneath your eyes, a droop in your shoulders like you’re trying to close in on yourself. A frown tugs at his lips; had he done this to you? He’d always thought things would be different for you, that the bond wouldn’t affect you anywhere near as much as it does him, but seeing you like this compared to how you were two months ago makes him think that maybe he was wrong.

Selfishly, that little ember of hope burns a little brighter. If his absence affected you like this, maybe you did miss him after all. Maybe he still means at least half as much to you as you do to him even after what he’d done. Maybe there’s still a chance that he can fix this somehow. His gaze travels over the rest of you, from the tattered Deftones shirt swallowing your body that had once been his to the long expanse of your bare legs tucked up next to you. He can hear the imperceptible sound of wood splintering, and only then does he realize he’s gripping the armrests of the chair far too hard.

He needs to speak, needs to do something to break this silence before he does something out of his control that he’ll regret more than leaving you. “Thank you.” Just two simple words, but Tomura hopes you can hear the weight in them, all the things he wants to say but can’t yet. You just nod stiffly, and then you finally look at him, the full force of your beauty disarming him entirely. Even with the exhaustion lining your features, you take his fucking breath away. Your expression is expectant, if not a little impatient, and he figures he’s on borrowed time.

So, he does what he does best these days; opens his mouth, and hopes whatever comes out makes sense.

***

“I need you to know that I didn’t mean anything I said. I had to say those things to you if I had any hope of leaving.”

Your immediate reaction is to laugh, or cry, or maybe both. Instead, you just scoff and roll your eyes before looking away from him again. It’s hard enough to have him in your apartment after you’d finally started to accept that he wasn’t coming back, that things were actually over between you two. You can’t bring yourself to look at him on top of that, not if you have any hope of getting out of this conversation without crying in front of him.

You can feel Tomura’s gaze burning into your side profile, the weight of it begging you to look at him, but you know if you do you’ll forgive him right away, and he doesn’t deserve that. You’re as weak as ever, it seems. “Whether you believe me or not, it’s the truth. I know you. I had to say what I did because if I told you the truth you would’ve stayed, would’ve tried to find a solution. I was trying to protect you.” He sounds honest, regretful, maybe a little broken. It makes it hard to stay pissed at him, but it doesn’t erase the hurt you’ve felt for months.

“Shouldn’t that have been for me to decide? If I wanted to be protected or not?” The words are barely more than a whisper, but it’s all you can manage right now, and you know he can hear you anyway with his stupid freak hearing. He shifts out of the corner of your eye, leaning closer to you like he wants nothing more than to reach out, and you’re suddenly grateful for the coffee table wedged between you two. You couldn’t handle it if he touched you, not right now.

“Yes. It should’ve. But I was just doing what I thought was best at the time.” Irritation starts to simmer inside you then; all of this hurt because he acted on his own volition without even fucking telling you what was going on. The insecurities, the second guessing, trying to cope with the fact that he didn’t want you anymore, all of it could’ve been avoided if he’d just fucking talked to you first. You turn to glare at him, choosing to ignore the way he’s already staring at you like you single-handedly put the stars in the sky.

“So, you thought it would be best to make me think you wanted nothing to do with me anymore, that I’m nothing but a problem you didn’t want, instead of fucking communicating with me?” Tomura’s lips part, like he’s somehow surprised by your acidity. He stammers for a second, and you can see the moment his demeanor shifts from vulnerable to angry in response to your tone. “I was doing it to protect you. You have no fucking idea what’s out there, who’s out there. If I have to be a little mean to you to keep you safe, then I’ll fucking do it,” he snaps, his voice raising a little more with each word until he’s nearly yelling by the end.

You shoot up from your place on the couch, the anger boiling over making it too hard to sit any longer. “Then tell me, explain it to me! All you had to do was talk to me! We could’ve figured it out instead of you being a fucking prick about everything!” Tomura follows suit, rising from the chair so fast it almost topples over behind him. You track him with your eyes as he circles around the coffee table, coming to an abrupt stop in front of you. You have to tilt your head back to level him with your glare, and he mirrors your expression, his eyes narrowed to slits, the crimson of his irises burning right through you.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You don’t know how to take no for a fucking answer even when it’s in your best interest. You wouldn’t have let me leave if I didn’t hurt your goddamn feelings first,” he spits, and you reel back a step, stunned. You can tell he regrets it immediately by the softening of his eyes, the way his fingers twitch to reach out to you, the half step he takes to follow you. “Don’t,” you hiss, and he listens, his fingers instead going up to claw at his neck. There’s a pang in your chest from the sight, the image of him doing that exact thing in that sad family photo you’d found in his drawer working to soften your anger.

In its absence, you feel a bone-deep exhaustion, a resigned kind of sadness that’s lingered since he walked out your door that day. You don’t want to fight with him anymore, not when none of it really matters now anyway. “It doesn’t matter. It’s for the best. You were right when you said there’s been nothing but problems since we met.” He looks panicked then, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Tomura goes to step towards you again, and you step back, retreating and following until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter and you have nowhere left to go.

He doesn’t touch you, just keeps you cornered there, but you can tell how badly he wants to, how hard he’s fighting to refrain from doing so. “Don’t say that,” he breathes, and you almost laugh; he’d said the same exact thing to you, hadn’t he? A sad little smile curves up your lips, one that’s meant to be resolute but likely fails. “It’s true, Tomura. You said it yourself. You didn’t ask for any of this.” And in a way, you didn’t either. You didn’t ask to be someone’s mythical soulmate, didn’t ask to get tied up with someone so volatile, so broken. But fuck, do you love him all the same despite all that.

That’s why it’s best to just let him go, tell him to leave and not come back, for real this time.

***

“You should go, Tomura.”

No, no, no.

Mine, mine, mine.

How has he managed to fuck up again, and even worse this time? Christ, all he does is ruin things.

A tremor runs through him when you say his name, and he’ll be damned if it’s the last time he ever hears it fall from your lips. “No.” It comes out harsher than he intended, more firm than he would’ve liked, but goddamn it he’s not leaving until he fixes this like he came here to do in the first place. He’s not walking back out that door unless you’re his, unless you’re coming with him, or he’s got a key to come back whenever he damn well pleases. “No,” he repeats, less abrasive but just as firm. You stare up at him in surprise with those beautiful, mesmerizing eyes, and in that moment he’s yours, and you’re his, and none of the other bullshit fucking matters to him anymore.

All caution gets thrown out the window, and then his hands are cupping your cheeks, and yours are coming up to close around his wrists, but you don’t try to pry him off you. “I came here to fix my fuck up, and so far I’ve only made it worse, but I’m not leaving until you know everything at the very least. Then you can decide if you want me to go.” Tomura wants to add that if you still want him to leave at that point, he will, but he knows he’d be lying, and he’s already lied to you enough. Instead, he gazes down at you, hoping everything he feels for you is reflected in his eyes. He doesn’t let go of you until you nod as much as his grip on your face allows, and it takes all his strength to remove his hands from you, to step back and away to give you some space.

You look a little dazed, but at least you’re listening. He figures it’s best to just dive right in and quit beating around the fucking bush, to get past this hurdle between you as quickly as possible. “My Master- you know him as our boss, at least that’s what I think you called him. He raised me, was my father figure for most intents and purposes. He made me into what I am when I was just a child, found me wandering on the street after… When I became an orphan. He told me he could help me, that he could give me the life I didn’t get from my family, and I believed him. I didn’t question how he knew what my home life was like because he was the first person to ever show me what I believed was concern and compassion at the time.”

Tomura pauses to make sure you’re following, and when you nod for him to continue, he does. “I never knew any better, didn’t know the difference between care and exploitation. I devoted my life to him, gave him my life when the time came and traded it for what I am now. I thought it meant I was special, that he wanted me to become like him because he viewed me as his son. I realize now how wrong I was about that. It just took all of this to realize it.” He’s aware of how bitter he sounds, how his hands are trembling with barely controlled rage, but you don’t seem scared. If anything, you look concerned, something he does not and never will deserve from you.

“I remember my turning so vividly. It was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced, like the culmination of all my father’s beatings happening at once. Master thought it was as difficult as it was because I was so young, my body still small and fragile. He told me I survived the transformation because I was strong, because it was who I was meant to be, but looking back on it now, he would’ve just found a replacement if I had died in the process. Sometimes I wish I did.” Tomura feels warmth then, the ghost of it skating across the back of his hand, and he realizes your fingers are just barely brushing over his skin. He turns his palm and slides his fingers through yours, gripping your hand tightly for the reassurance he needs to get through this.

“After I stepped into my new life, things changed. He no longer tolerated any weakness from me, any mention of my family, of my mother. He would drive iron nails through my fingertips each time I was weak, and he’d leave them there until he felt I had apologized sufficiently enough. Anytime I fucked something up or didn’t carry through one of his plans exactly how he wanted, he’d lash my back with iron chains. You’ve felt the scars for yourself.” You look sick and angry, and Tomura can no longer look at you, not when he’s this vulnerable.

He looks past you instead, his gaze focused on a tiny chip in the paint on your kitchen wall. “I thought it was justified. He’d given me everything, so being perfect for him was the least I could do. Over time, I got better, and as I got better, the things he had me do got worse. I’ll spare you the details, but I meant it when I told you I’ve killed more people than I can count and wronged just as many. I’ve been alive for a long time, and when time is all you have, you don’t realize how much those things add up.” Tomura figures that will be the moment, the deciding factor that makes you leave him, but your grip on his hand only tightens.

His brave, stupid, perfect girl.

“His health began to decline over the years, a symptom of what we are. It’s a misconception in books and movies that we don’t age, but we do, degrading slowly and excruciatingly bit by bit and cell by cell. Master has been alive for centuries, and when it caught up to him, it was brutal. I remember being scared at the time, terrified for the first time in what felt like ages. Like I said, I viewed him as my father, and I was afraid of what my life would look like without him. That was around the time Kurogiri came along, there to help guide me in Master’s absence. Not long after that, operations grew, and then the others came along one by one.”

He’s skipping a lot of details, but most of them are irrelevant right now, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you more than he likely already is. Tomura wants to get through this as quickly as possible, and if you stick around, he’ll tell you more stories later on if you decide you want to hear them. “I never really knew what exactly it was he was doing behind the scenes. I only oversaw the simpler things like that meeting you saw with Rikiya. I never knew the specifics, or just how bad things are. I knew he harvested other cryptids, but I never thought it was as depraved as it actually is.” Your grip loosens on his hand, and he chances a glance at you, immediately regretting bringing this up when he sees how ashen your face has become.

But you have to know this, have to know all the ugly truths if there’s any hope left for you two. “I officially took over Rikiya’s operation the night that I dropped you off here. That was the night everything really fell apart. I left because I had a meeting with Master, and I thought it was to discuss what we were going to do with Rikiya after that fight in the bar. I was blindsided when he told me I’d be taking over the whole thing. And… it’s awful, the things I’ve seen, even by my standards. They find cryptids from all over the world, powerful beings like werewolves and fae, and bring them here to dissect them for research, all of it focused on how to bring Master to full health and make him immortal. They harvest their blood for Master to consume, to keep him alive and stable as he is now, and they flay them to try to understand what pieces they’re missing for immortality to be possible.”

Tomura would vomit all over your floor if it was possible. Reliving everything he’s been forced to witness over the last two months, having to lay it all out for you like this, it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done aside from leaving you. “I don’t know what to do to stop it. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. As weak as he is right now, Master is likely the most powerful being to walk among us, and he has too many connections to people even worse than him to count. That’s why I felt like I had to leave you, why I hurt you to keep you from asking questions. He knows about you. He threatened me with you because he thinks you’re a liability, and the less you know, the better. I did what I thought was best at the time to keep you safe from him because protecting you is all I fucking care about.”

His voice breaks on the last word, the lump forming in his throat nearly suffocating. Christ, if only Master could see him now. “I can’t- I don’t understand why you believed me so easily. I know I’m not good with my words, my actions, any of this, but for you to believe me right away when I told you I didn’t want you… I don’t understand it. I’ve told you so many times that you’re everything, that you’re my reason for breathing. Said so many things I could never say to anyone else, and I meant all of it.” Tomura looks at you then, at your beautiful, tear-stained face, and he hopes you can find it in yourself to believe this as easily as you’d believed his lies.

He reaches up to swipe his thumbs under your eyes, but it does little to stop the tears still falling from them. “Please don’t cry for me. I don’t deserve it. Don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, and it only seems to make you cry harder. “I ruin everything I touch, and I don’t want to ruin you, too. But I- Fuck. I can’t be without you. The bond plays a part, sure, but even without it, I… I know I would come to love you regardless eventually. Would still end up needing you as much as I do now.” There. He’d finally said it, without necessarily saying it, but that’s as close as he can get to telling you he loves you right now. He just hopes it’s enough for now.

You don’t say anything for the longest time, just stare up at him with wide, wet eyes. Tomura is starting to think you won’t say anything at all, that he’s sent you into shock or disgusted you too much to come back from all this, but then you speak, so soft and quiet he’d miss it if not for his hearing.

***

“Then ruin me.”

He stares down at you like you’ve stunned him, his hands falling away from where they’d been uselessly brushing away your tears. “What?” He sounds as winded as he looks, as winded as you feel after all of that. You don’t know what you’d been expecting when he showed up here tonight, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. It’s a lot of information for you to work through, but you’re too mentally exhausted to process it all right now, and what matters to you the most is he’s trying. Tomura dumped the TLDR version of his life story in the middle of your kitchen, and somehow in your fucked up brain, that makes it easy to forgive him for everything else.

You can figure out the rest later.

“If you ruin everything you touch, then ruin me. I don’t care.” He blinks slowly, once, twice, three times, like he’s trying to determine if he’s imagining this or not. When you don’t falter or look away from him, he inhales a shaky breath, his entire body relaxing like he’s been holding the weight of the world since he’s been gone. “I won’t ruin you. I can’t. But if you mean that, if you don’t want me to leave after everything I just told you, you’ll be stuck with me forever. I will not let you go ever again. It won’t be possible for me, and I can’t guarantee I could change that if you ever changed your mind.”

Maybe you should think about it harder, and maybe you shouldn’t make this heavy of a decision while emotions are running as high as they are, but you’ve gone through enough of your life without happiness. If this is the form that it’s finally chosen to come to you, if dealing with Tomura’s bad times means you get to have his good times, too, well, it’s the easiest fucking decision you’ve ever made. You two can deal with the rest as it comes.

“Then don’t let me go. I’m yours, Tomura. Have been since the night we met. All that’s left now is for you to finalize that the way only you can.” He inhales sharply, and there’s a split second of hesitation on his end, for your sake and not his. But then his pupils dilate, and he’s on you so fast you’re forced back against the kitchen counter. Maybe it’d hurt a little if it didn’t feel so good. His hands are everywhere, running all along your body like he can’t figure out where to start, and his mouth is moving against yours so fervently it’s hard to keep up.

When your tongue finds his, he groans into your mouth, and when your fingers knot into his hair, his hands find the backs of your thighs to lift you onto the kitchen counter. The hem of your - his - shirt rides up your hips, and Tomura forces his way between your legs, his right hand digging into the bare skin of your thigh while his left tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck. He keeps your head tilted back for him far enough that it toes the line of uncomfortable, but when his mouth leaves yours and he starts biting and sucking along your throat, it’s hard to care.

He’s careful to not break skin, not yet, and you tremble in anticipation for that moment to come. You want to ask him what it’ll feel like, if it’ll hurt, but your brain is devoid of any coherent thoughts, anything that’s not him and the feeling of him against you. The skin of your neck stings, but he laves over each bruise and mark with his tongue to soothe the ache. “Tomura, please,” you gasp out, and you can feel the growl vibrating in his chest more than you hear it. When he pulls back to look down at you, you don’t think he’s fully present anymore.

You’ve only seen the inhuman part of him a couple of times, but never directed at you. Right now, though, the black of his pupils nearly eclipses the crimson of his irises. His eyes are glazed over like he’s in a trance, not fully coherent, and the raw hunger burning in his eyes should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. “Please,” you repeat, fully aware of how needy you sound but not caring in the slightest. His hands are back on your thighs in a millisecond, and he’s hoisting you up and carrying you through your apartment to your bedroom faster than your brain can keep up.

You’re thrown on your bed carelessly, the little ‘oof’ that leaves you immediately silenced by his lips and tongue. Tomura’s teeth catch your bottom lip, maybe by accident, you aren’t sure, but this time it draws blood. He freezes, and for the first time, you feel a tremor of fear run through you. You’ve never seen how he reacts to blood, and for all you know he’s about to devour you whole, unable to help himself. When he leans away, the look he gives you tells you he’s about to do just that, just not in the way you’d been afraid of.

He catches the pinprick of blood on his thumb, holds your eyes as he brings it to his lips, keeps you pinned there with his gaze alone as he slowly licks it off. Tomura’s eyes slip closed, and he moans, a shiver running through his entire body. When they open again, they’re blazing, and the razor sharp smile he gives you is enough to know he’s likely going to ruin you after all. “Take that off.” His voice is dark, dangerous, unlike you’ve ever heard it before. It’s not a suggestion or a request, it’s a demand, one you’re quick to obey.

He hardly allows you enough room to sit up and slip the shirt over your head, and once it’s gone, you’re left bare before him aside from the drenched panties clinging to your core. He sits back on his heels, simply stares at you for what feels like hours, his fingertips trailing featherlight down your sternum, back and forth between your hip bones, back up to circle each of your nipples in turn. You’re writhing beneath him already and he’s barely even fucking touched you yet.

“Tomura,” you whine, breathy and desperate. He hushes you by tapping his thumb against your lips, and you don’t realize what he wants until he narrows his eyes at you in warning. His thumb slides in after your lips part for him, and you suck on impulse, a wicked smile stretching across his face. “Good girl. So fucking perfect, so obedient. My beautiful, perfect girl.” You can’t speak around his thumb caressing your tongue, so you nod frantically, hoping to please and appease him. He takes mercy on you, removes his thumb with a gentle tap on your cheek, and trails his fingers all the way down between your legs.

He gives you no warning before he’s circling your clit over the wet fabric of your panties, and your back arches off the bed, your hips jerking from the unexpected contact. “So wet already. So good for me.” His voice is at once mean and fond, both sides of him warring with each other for the lead, and the praise coupled with his steady fingers on your clit tears a moan from your throat. “You can cum for me like this, can’t you? I know you can.” And he’s right; you’re already teetering on the edge, the thread already drawn tight, and it only takes a few more circles of his fingers to send you free falling.

You moan his name, and he groans, his fingers not stopping until your legs are trembling with the aftershocks. “See? I knew you could do it,” he coos, a cruel mockery of affection, and the underlying current in his tone lets you know he’s far from done with you. Tomura bites and licks his way down your stomach until he’s kneeling at the end of the bed, the dull sound of his knees hitting the floor hardly registering in your clouded brain. You don’t realize where he’s at until his fingers grip your thighs to tug you downward, a choked gasp leaving your lips from the sudden movement.

He laughs, husky and raspy, and then he’s snapping the fragile elastic waistband of your panties to toss them carelessly into the corner. “I hope you weren’t fond of those,” he sighs in mock concern, the only reprieve you get before his mouth is on you. A strangled moan rips from your throat, and he gives you no time to acclimate to his tongue on your swollen clit before he’s sinking two fingers into you, the overwhelming stimulation enough to make your hips buck away from him on impulse. Tomura holds you in place with an arm across your stomach, pinning you down so easily, the only option left to take everything he gives you.

“So fucking sweet,” he groans against your clit, his fingers moving in tandem with his tongue. “Missed this so much, missed you, missed this perfect fucking pussy.” He rambles barely coherent words against you between each pass of his tongue, and he may have only done this once before, but fuck, he remembered every little detail. His fingers curl just right, hitting that spot inside you each time so easily, his tongue abusing your overstimulated clit in a way that borders on painful. “My good fucking girl. You gonna cum again for me? Yeah, I know you will. Always so good for me.”

You don’t want to, don’t think you can handle another one, but he’s not giving you a fucking choice. Your fingers tangle in his hair, either to pull him away or keep him held to you, you’re not sure. You lean up to look down at him, and the sight of him between your legs, his eyes burning with sin as he watches you, it’s enough to send you spiraling again. This orgasm slams into you harder than the first, bursts of color appearing behind your closed eyelids, and you think maybe this is it, this is how you die, because it’s too fucking much and somehow not enough at the same time.

You’re vaguely aware of his mouth leaving you, his fingers sliding out with an embarrassingly wet sound, and the faint sound of rustling fabric. You don’t open your eyes until you feel his weight on top of you, your mouth dropping open from the sight that greets you. His shirt is gone, nothing but a smooth expanse of pale skin in its place. You knew he was strong, lean, but Christ, he’s toned. Scars are scattered along his skin, some longer than others, some so small they’re hardly visible, but each one only makes you love him more.

He’s watching you carefully, gauging your reaction through whatever frenzy he’s been in this entire time, and when you meet his eyes, you hope he can see just how much you admire him. Your fingers trail along his skin, tracing over each scar, your lips caressing the ones your mouth can reach. “You’re perfect, Tomura. Everything I’ll ever want.” He shudders against you, and when he kisses you this time, it’s a lot less savage but just as heated. Your hands make quick work of the button of his jeans, the zipper following, and you’re doing the best you can to shove them down his hips in the position you’re in when he stops you. “Are you sure? Because if we do this, if it goes this far, I won’t be able to stop myself. I won’t be able to keep myself from solidifying the bond, not when I’m that… distracted. I might hurt you.” You think maybe this is the most lucid he’s been this entire time, a last ditch effort to pull himself out of the spiral before it completely drags him under.

The trembling in his hands and the muscle ticking in his locked jaw tells you it’s taking all the restraint he has, and that’s all you need to know this is the right decision. “I’m sure. Do it, Tomura. Put us both out of our misery.” And then he’s gone, the inhuman side of him completely taking over.

***

Tomura can’t remember taking off the rest of his clothes, or when he’d pinned your thighs up as far as they could go, or when he’d lined himself up with your entrance. His lucidity is coming and going, mostly going, and he’s so fucking scared that he’s going to hurt you, but you’ve given him the greenlight, the consent to do the one thing that’s been tormenting him since he fucking met you, and any control he had left evaporated the moment you’d said yes. Your scent is clouded all around him, your sweet taste lingering on his tongue, your body pliant and ready for him; how the fuck is he supposed to resist now?

He taps his cock against your puffy, swollen clit, admires the way your hole is glistening so prettily for him. He vaguely makes out the sound of you whining, and when his gaze travels to your face, any doubts he had left are gone. You’re staring at him with love in your eyes, devotion, admirance, all the things he’ll never deserve but will take gladly like the selfish creature he is. He leans down, presses one last lingering kiss to your lips, and then brings his mouth to your ear.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it feel so good, so good for my perfect girl.” His lips trail from your ear to your throat, all the way to your pulse point, the erratic thrumming that greets him enough to make his mouth water. He should’ve fed before he came here, should’ve prepared for this outcome, but it’s too fucking late now and he’ll just have to find it in himself to stop before he kills you. He presses a kiss there, and then he pushes in, and in, and in. You’re so fucking soaked for him that there’s hardly any resistance, and if you feel any discomfort, he can’t tell around the long, drawn out moan spilling beautifully from your lips.

And then the thread on his sanity snaps, and he can’t fucking take it anymore. His teeth sink home in your neck at the same time his cock sinks home inside you, and then everything is crystal clear in a way that it never has been before. The taste of your blood blooms on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever experienced, and he knows this is the closest to Eden he’ll ever get. Everything aligns perfectly in that moment, all the pieces finally falling together. The bond that had been there this entire time snaps fully into place, the strength of it enough to disarm him. He thought he’d been able to feel you before, but Christ, he feels everything, every flicker of emotion, every thought, every hope and desire you’ve ever had, all the love you somehow feel for him.

Tomura sends everything he has back and then some, lets you feel it all, lets you see just how much he needs you, how lost he’s been the last two months without you. The taste of saline mixes in with the fragrant taste of your blood, and it’s then he realizes that you’re crying, hopes it’s because you’re as overwhelmed by this as he is and not because he’s hurting you. He draws out of you slowly, slides his cock back in just as carefully, relishes how your walls cling to him, how perfectly he fits inside you. Your blood trickles down his throat, and he takes in greedy mouthfuls of you as he finds a rhythm, his pace picking up the more his strength blooms with the essence of you.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs to keep you pinned beneath him, the animal part of his brain telling him to claim, claim, claim, and he knows he’s being rough with you but he can’t find it in himself to fucking stop. He doesn’t tear his mouth from your throat until he registers your hand weakly tapping against the side of his face, and even then, it takes all the self restraint he has to stop drinking, to stop consuming. Tomura pulls his face from your neck to look down at you, and even though he was far too close to killing you just now, you’re still staring up at him with watery eyes full of nothing but affection.

“I love you.”

He still doesn’t say it out loud, but he sends the thought to you down the bond, and he knows you hear it when you give him one of those beautiful smiles that he’d burn the entire world down for.

“I know. And I love you.”

His eyes burn, and his throat constricts, and he kisses you with everything he has to hide the emotion he knows is displayed on his face. His pace picks up, his hips slamming against yours with each thrust, and Tomura knows that this is it. This is home, everything he’s subconsciously been searching the entirety of both his lives for. His gravity shifts, his entire world narrowing down to the ethereal, angelic woman splayed out before him, and he knows he’d do anything, kill anyone, be anything to keep you safe, keep you his.

You spasm around him, and then you’re cumming for him for the third time tonight, a choked groan ripping from his throat when you squeeze around him. His forehead settles against yours, his hips stuttering as he meets you in the middle. His cock twitches when he cums, spilling inside you the same moment his words spill out of his mouth unbidden.

“I love you,” he whispers, so quiet he wonders if you heard him.

He gets his answer when he hears you whisper it back, the words breathed across his skin travelling straight to his dead heart.

note: can't tell you all enough how sorry I am that this took so long to post. I've been in college, and transitioning into a new job, as well as a few other things that were happening all at once. I'm happy to say that life will be mellowing out significantly from here onward, and I anticipate having a lot more free time after this upcoming week. I don't think I can convey in words how much I appreciate all the kind comments and asks, all the patience and love you've given me while I slowly chipped away on this chapter, and all the support you guys show me. couldn't do it without you, ily ❤︎ I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you a lot sooner this time :)

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x you #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha x you #tomura x reader #tomura x you #mha shigaraki #vampire au #hauntedfic

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