#can’t even daydream when my head hurts enough because the pain is distracting

[raeofgayshine]

Headaches are objectively awful for a lot of reasons, but the worst one is that the best way to cure them (or at least the bad ones I get) is to lay in a dark room for hours on end with literally nothing (maybe quiet white noise, as a treat) but of course my brain would rather die than do nothing and be quiet so I wind up just having to suffer and do things that make my headache actively worse until I either feel like crying from the pain or like throwing up in which case I then I have to stop and take a break and maybe sleep until it gets a little better, rinse and repeat until the headache goes away or I finally fall asleep for the whole night.

[estelofrivendell]

Saviour (Boromir x Female Reader)

A/N: This was a really cute request by Anon that I got distracted with it and added stuff that probably doesn’t matter. Hope you enjoy <3

Fearless, valiant and nurturing. Those were the three words you would use to describe Boromir. At first, you believed him to be self-centered and he did not have the brightest suggestions at the council, but he proved to be a good man with a heart of gold when he volunteered to help Frodo.

He was a protector through and through, his love for his country and his people runs deep in his veins. You can see the pride in his eyes every time he talks about them but he never fully concealed his sadness. He was slowly losing hope in everything that you felt sorry for him.

Taking the night watch, you took a quick glance at everyone and made sure they were all sleeping. None of them were truly at peace even in their sleep. You looked over the mountains and watched the stars, captivated by their beauty that you almost forgot what your main purpose was.

At that moment, a twig broke nearby, making you look back at the Fellowship to see if it was any of them. Worry overtook you when none of them were awake. It was not right to wake any of them when it could well have been you daydreaming.

Hopping off the rock to investigate, you made sure to be careful to not wake any of them up. The farther you went, the more you regretted going off and you had a gut feeling that something was wrong. You looked over your shoulder repeatedly only to see nothing yet you continued to hear more sounds of faint footsteps and leaves cracking.

Tense, you swallowed up your pride and made your way back, your grip on your sword loosening up a bit. Turning around, you immediately came face to face with a growling orc that was in the middle of swinging its ax.

So this is how it all ends for me, you thought. An orc cuts my head off and by noon my friends will have forgotten about me.

It all happened so fast that you never had time to properly process anything aside from that, you didn’t even remember screaming. The next thing you knew, you fell backwards and were now on the ground, your head and body were still one. Funnily enough, it was the orc who lost its head instead of you. As his severed head and body fell to the ground, you met eye contact with Boromir, who had an ax stained with orc blood in his hold. 

He dropped the ax and it clattered against the rock as he knelt across you, holding your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, trembling in his hold and he pulled you closer. “No, I’m not, I’m fine.” Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you for saving me.”

Boromir pulled you up to your feet and started taking you to where everyone else was. You noticed how sleepy and exhausted he was. “Never do that ever again. I will always be here to protect you, but you can’t count on that all the time. From now on, you’re not taking watch alone.”

That night, you slept in his arms, only because you asked him to. No one made you feel safer than Boromir did. 

-

The second time he saved you was in the Mines of Moria. Those bloody archers almost got a hit at every single one of you but you took comfort in Aragorn and Legolas having immense skill with a bow. The cave troll almost stepped on Sam until you, Boromir and Aragorn held on the chains tight and pulled it back as far as you can to give Sam enough time to escape. Boromir glanced down at his arms to see the chains somehow wrapped around himself and before he could make any action, the cave troll swung him across the wall.

Gathering the strength he had to get up and his head throbbed. All he could hear were painful ringing noises and could barely make out what was going on in front of him. Everything was blurry.

Until Legolas shouted, “Look out!”

Believing it referred to himself, he crept sideways, narrowly missing the orc about to stab him with its sword. The orc suddenly grunted and he noticed a dagger sticking out its head before the orc fell and he was greeted by Aragorn nodding at him.

Turns out, Legolas meant you and not him, only noticing the troll holding an enormous spear, seconds ready from impaling you with it. Without any thought, Boromir ran for it and the next thing he knew, he was lying face down on the floor with you beside him, his head still throbbing but his senses were slowly recovering. Lifting himself off the ground, staggering while trying to keep his balance, he found Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf and Aragorn fighting the troll to distract it from the hobbits who were doing their best to avoid it.

“Are you all right?” Boromir asked you, wiping off the dirt and blood off his face.

You stared at him, astonished. “Forget about me, Boromir, I would ask you the same thing!”

His head throbbed again as he waved his hand dismissively.

-

Everyone needed a long night or two of sleep in Lothlórien. Boromir especially, his concussion did not go unnoticed to the remaining Fellowship and partially explained why he acted so sullen. The elves offered to give him medicine and he refused, stating that it would all go away by simply sleeping it off, only giving in when the elves would not stop insisting and Aragorn made him give in.

The Elves were kind and responsive. Some of them could not speak the Common Tongue, but all that mattered was that the Lady and the Lord themselves were able to speak it plus Haldir. Aragorn and Legolas could translate if that was the last resort. 

Boromir was a good man and you would die defending that basis but he had the tendency to act strange at times. Whether the lingering thought of the Ring was bothering him or someone in the Fellowship was, you honestly couldn’t tell. Despite that, he was more than willing to talk to you even if he was grumpy.

“I had a peculiar dream the other night,” said Boromir. “More peculiar than the dream that brought me to Rivendell.”

“What was it about?”

“I saw a forest. Large and beautiful, yes, but eerie. There were broken statues of elf maidens and great lords of history. I was someone, but I don’t know who, if I was myself or someone else. There were laughs and screams echoing and I tried to look for the source. I thought someone was being attacked and needed help, but I found nothing and everything would become more faint the closer I thought I was getting.”

You sat there, deep in thought. “Do you believe it is more than a dream? I dream of scenarios more bizarre and nothing comes out of it.”

“You’re not understanding me,” said Boromir impatiently. “I think those elven herbs made me… loopy, but it’s trying to tell me something. A warning.”

You were sure he was not in his right mind and you left him to his own thoughts. The effects wore off just in time, right before departing Lothlórien. He made no reference to the dream but you were positive he thought about it all the time. Galadriel noticed and she pulled him aside for a private talk in an attempt to lift his spirits.

It didn’t work.

-

He knew Galadriel meant well but his mind was too troubled to care. Mentioning you was what soured it. He still remembered what he told you; that you can’t always count on him to save you. That’s assuming he lives long enough.

According to her, you were indebted to him and you were planning to return the favour. He would also show his worth at the fullest but whether he obtains his heart’s deepest desire or not is to be determined.

“It does not depend on you, but on the one you love most,” she told him at last.

All he ever wanted was a Gondor free from threats, his father as the stern but honorable man he knew and his brother happy without being shamed by their father. And despite your foolishness matching Pippin’s, he cared about you more than he thought he would. He wanted you.

Why can’t he have both? Why should he choose between seeing his people safe or a fulfilled life with you when he can have both?

The Eye of Sauron watched his city for as long as he could remember and he’s reached a point where the Fellowship’s efforts were all in vain and fruitless in his view.

Men have gained victory from fighting fire with fire. Boromir does not see why it cannot happen again to end Sauron.

He made a decision.

-

A decision he would come to regret as soon as he carried it out.

Merry and Pippin stood behind him on his command, fearful but determined to assist him. He would prefer them to leave him and run as far away as they can and find a safe place to hide in. He would buy them some time if he could, but they refused to leave him.

There had to be at least six dozen orcs charging at them. Those orcs were unfamiliarly large and much more dangerous, he reckoned the biggest of them were as tall as him and Aragorn. So far, he has hacked them off but not without difficulty and sooner or later he’ll have a sword through his chest. 

Was this what Galadriel meant when she told him he was going to meet his full worth? He accepted death long before a man should be fully accustomed to it and envisioned himself dying to protect his people. 

He did not ever think that “his people” referred to the little ones, a ranger from the North, a curious elf, a cheeky dwarf and you.

As accurate as Merry and Pippin were with their rock throwing abilities, anxiety occasionally overtook them and these new orcs were strong. One of them dodged the rocks and Boromir was ready to enter death’s arms when he saw it charge at him that he could not counter in time, but it fell sideways suddenly and he saw a dagger in its head. There you stood, running over to them as fast as you can, your sword in your hand.

“You came,” said Boromir as if he did not expect her arrival in the first place. “I’d never thought-”

“Never will I leave a friend in times of crisis,” you said, baffled that he dared to question such an act. “Especially if they helped me many times before.”

A debt repaid, Boromir thought, remembering Galadriel’s words. And how will the second one go?

He would find out very soon when you stepped in to take an arrow meant for him.

-

You took two.

He had never seen you so afraid. He thought you were one of those people that wasn’t capable of being afraid. You reminded him of all the soldiers he watched pass away. Yet you did not show any regret in taking those arrows. The only thing you regretted was the capture of Merry and Pippin.

Tears streamed down his eyes. He blamed himself and his stupidity for your current state, all because he thought taking the Ring was the only way to ensure harmony for his people, his country and his relationship with you. He wanted to laugh bitterly. What relationship? She only saw me as a friend. What was I thinking?

He recalled an older memory with his father when he was a young man. “Life is unfair, my son,” he told him firmly. There was no warmth in his voice. “You never have everything you want. The greatest challenge is choosing which takes precedence.”

If the price he had to pay for his mistakes was his own life, that he understood. You reap what you sow. But your own life despite doing nothing wrong? It was tragic and agonizing, but made too much sense in a horrible world. The world was full of innocent people whose life was cut short and of evil people living life in the fullest way.

“It should’ve been me,” he muttered. “It should’ve- it should’ve-”

Aragorn dropped his sword in shock before running over to you, taking a closer look at the arrows. Boromir did not notice his presence until he spoke.

“She still has a pulse,” Aragorn said. “And she was lucky to be hit where she was. Any higher or lower would be fatal.”

“It should’ve been me,” repeated Boromir, still in disbelief.

“Do not say that!” Aragorn snapped. “Have some hope in you, Boromir! She lives for now. These arrows are unlike anything I have seen and pulling them out is a risk. It is one we must be willing to take to put athelas to her wounds.”

They did find a way to pull the arrows out without killing you but it was not easy. Boromir took deep breaths as he watched Aragorn apply athelas to your wounds and started to wonder how things would have gone if you had just not stepped in the pathway.

He was not sure if it was for better or worse that he lived. Frankly, he did not want to think of it anymore.

-

The first thing you noticed as soon as you woke up was the change in environment. The last thing you remember was a forest in the daytime. Now you were on a hill after dusk. Beside you, Boromir was on the lookout for any orcs. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were nowhere to be found. The sound of you stirring and your hand running through grassfields startled Boromir. Seeing you alive delighted him and you thought about how you never saw Boromir that happy.

“What happened? Where are the others? Why is it just us two?” You placed a hand on your forehead as if that was going to do anything. 

“They’re heading towards Rohan. I stayed back so I can take care of you. I promise you, we will see them again. I sense it is soon now that you are recovering.”

“And Frodo and Sam?”

Boromir recoiled at the mention of Frodo but he maintained his posture. “They left for Mordor on their own. It is up to us to find how we can help them in another way. They cannot do it alone.”

You nodded, not saying anything as you fully agreed. You saw the dressing on your wounds and you moved your arms to see if they were still intact. They were.

“You should not have done that,” said Boromir. “If you had not lived, I- I do not know how I can live with it. I love you, truly.”

“I love you too. We all deserve a second chance, do we not?”

Boromir smiled. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you for your unwavering faith in me.”

[hypnomicimagines]

Alone Time [Werewolf!Yamada Ichiro]

(You guys can also have this as a treat... a nice 2am treat. afab reader but no pronouns used)

Ichiro’s tail swished nervously behind him as he fumbled around with the dishes, his mind on anything but doing the rest of his household chores. Part of it was caused by both Jiro and Saburo being away, he had made Saburo promise to call him once his class reached their destination, but the other part of it was because he had been bold enough to ask you to stay over. He had even made it known his brothers wouldn’t be present which you had giggled about but said nothing more on the topic, agreeing that it would be nice to have a night in together.

“Hi!” You’re happy to be greeted by the excited werewolf who quickly lifted you up into his arms, squeezing tightly as it had been quite some time since you’d seen each other. His hand lingered on your lower back for longer than normal, as though he didn’t want to pull away at all if he could help it, but the sensible side of him won out as he pointed to the kitchen.

“I’m cooking but you can relax if you want.” You noted that the living room was cleaner than it normally was, no soccer balls around though there was a vacuum positioned in the corner filled to the brim with wolf fur. Did their tails shed that much? Poor Ichiro, it must be an endless cycle having three wolves living under one roof.

“I’ll sit with you in the kitchen if you don’t mind. I like watching you be all domestic, it’s cute. Should we get a hairnet for your tail?”

“I’ve never had any issues with-” Ichiro noted the way you were smiling at him, “Oh, you’re just messing with me, huh? I’ll remember that.”

Dinner was served shortly after and you weren’t lying about liking domestic Ichiro, thinking it was quite sweet to see him making you a plate and putting it down in front of you before sitting across the table. He even took the dishes to clean them before you could offer to help, saying he had invited you over to take a break and that he didn’t expect you to lift a finger. Your insistence was a little stronger than his stubborn need to do it all so you ended up drying and putting the dishes away as he scrubbed, pleased when everything was said and done so you could both relax together.  

You managed to make it through exactly one movie before you began to feel sleepy.

You stretched, yawned, and his response came quickly.

“Should we go lie down?” You knew his request didn’t have ulterior motives, at least not in the moment, because as soon as he realized what he said his mouth hung open like he didn’t believe he’d just said that. You gave him a knowing smirk but didn’t tease him out loud, knowing he was probably beating himself up over it now.

“Sure. Lead the way, casanova.”

Ichiro hopped up off the couch and nearly forgot his manners with how quickly he was trying to leave the situation, turning before you get up to offer his hand. You thank him and take his hand, noting it’s a little sweatier than it was when you were holding it before. His anxiety is palpable and your own nerves are starting to build, knowing there’s nothing technically stopping you from having your way with each other. You had thought about it, God knows you had thought about it, and though you can’t speak on Ichiro’s own naughty daydreams you were sure there was something running through his mind with how stiff he had been acting tonight.

“Let me borrow one of your shirts, won’t you?” His eyes widened at that and you heard a shocked noise that you weren’t quite sure came from Ichiro. He stared at you a moment longer with his flustered expression before he fully processed your request, heading over to the dresser and fumbling through until he found a long, comfortable shirt suitable for bedtime. You made sure to brush your hand over his as you took it from him, shooting him a coy smile and thanking him. You admit that you’re starting to feel eager yourself as you remove your clothing, slipping into the t-shirt—And only the t-shirt.

Ichiro’s distracted as you walk out of the bathroom, mid-changing as he hadn’t expected you to be so quick. You’re disappointed that he’s wearing pants but you’d never seen him shirtless before, eyes scanning his back and soaking in all the scars that were left there. There were big and small, healed to the best of their ability; werewolves had a supernatural healing element to them so the wounds that caused scars to grow were ones either gained in adolescence, when the healing factor was much slower, or the wounds were near fatal in nature thus taking longer to heal. Your footsteps are quiet but Ichiro’s ears twitch in your direction, whipping around to face you. His eyes are on your face for only a moment before dropping to your bare legs, noting that his shirt was a little long on you but still left plenty for him to admire.

“I didn’t mean to leave you shirtless! How will you keep warm now?” You grabbed the shirt out of his hand, tossing it in the direction of the dresser as he certainly wouldn’t need it tonight.

“But wolves don’t get cold- Oh…” Ichiro was so intelligent normally but it seemed his mind was elsewhere, all your come-ons causing him confusion until you gave him a look that said ‘think about that a bit more’. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, slowly leaving a trail of kisses anywhere he could reach, helped by you tilting your head to the side to give him more access to you.

You tried to muffle your groan as Ichiro’s sharp teeth grazed against your neck, him purposely repeating the action to see if it was just a fluke. When you give him the same type of response you feel him press closer to you, his tail beginning to sway again to show how he happy he was (though it was obvious he was trying to control it as well). You gently touched his chest after you pulled away from him, fingers grazing the scarred Chuuoku brand on his skin, something that made him look away. You’re worried that you’ve agitated him at first but he grabbed your wrist as you went to pull away, pressing your hand to his chest and looking into your eyes.

He was giving you permission.

Your finger traced over the brand on his chest again, feeling guilty that you were looking at it when there was the rest of his beautiful body to admire. It was hard not to think about the burning pain that had been inflicted on him, that each and every scar must hold a sad story behind how he’d received them. You knew he had been a bit of a punk when he was younger but that seemed to be the type of lives werewolves lived, especially the ones with no parents to guide or protect them. He hadn’t talked about his father much but there was a bitterness there, a betrayal that had wedged itself deeply into Ichiro’s heart and had been the reason behind him breaking up their pack to begin with.

It wasn’t time to worry about that now.

If anything, you wanted Ichiro to forget his worries, at least for now.

You crawled into the bed first, flashing him the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear as though he needed another reason to snuggle in beside you as soon as possible. You teasingly turn to face the wall but are pleased when Ichiro pulled you flush against him, his dick hot and hard on your ass. He’s trying not to rut his hips but it’s hard, just like him, and he’s restraining himself in fear of his strength accidentally hurting you. The plan had been to allow you to set the pace, to take control so that it’d be less likely an accident like that would happen, but it seemed useless now.

His attraction, his burning desire, it was too much for him to handle.

“I guess being tempting is just in your nature,” He whispered against your neck, hands running up your leg until they caught the end of his shirt; he lifted it up, slowly, slowly, until it was at your waist, leaving it there and going down to squeeze your hip. He’s started to move his hips in a steady rhythm that was turning him on more, thinking about how soft you felt against him. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Oh, is that right? You’ve met a fairy, right?”

“They have nothing on you.”

“Ooh, I’d be careful with that.” You turned your head to look at him, eyes taking a second to make out his face in the darkened room. “The fae don’t take kindly to being outdone. You might have put us both in danger.”

“I’d do anything to keep you safe.” Not normal bedroom talk but you’d be lying if that didn’t make your chest tingle, or perhaps that was just because his hands were now sliding up your stomach, cupping your chest but making no other moves just yet.

“Oh, my hero…!” Your teasing gets you everywhere, his hand rearranging itself so his fingers could gently pinch your nipple. You moaned quietly to show him that you appreciated what he was doing, arching back against him to temporarily stop his hips from moving. He’s breathing a little heavier now, which is why his next request isn’t a surprise.

“Turn around.”

His lips crashed against yours the second you did so, his hand on the back of your head as his tongue forced its way past your lips. He’s still a little clumsy when it comes to navigating such a passionate kiss but you can tell he’s putting his all into it, allowing you to explore his mouth as well; you couldn’t stop yourself from running your tongue over his canines, squeaking as it feels like you sliced your tongue though there’s no coppery taste to accompany the slight pain. He pulled away quick, a panicked look on his face as he opened his mouth to apologize.

“Shh…” You pressed a finger to his lips, “You don’t have to say sorry, baby. There’s something I want to do…but be careful of those fangs, alright?”

The only sound in the room is the shuffling of blankets as you pushed him onto his back, moving the blankets out of your way and stripping yourself of his shirt. He gets only a glance of your chest but you can tell he’s licking his lips at the thought of sucking on them, thinking he could have his way with them later when you were done with your request. You carefully positioned yourself over his, lowering cautiously as you didn’t want to totally smother him (at least not yet). Ichiro’s impatience is finally shining through and he throws caution out, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you down on his face.

Werewolves had been stereotyped as being voracious eaters and Ichiro wasn’t proving them wrong, the way his tongue was working you over being more than enough proof that he was one. You’re trying to keep yourself quiet despite knowing you don’t have to but that’s not good enough for Ichiro, no, he has to hear your voice full volume or he doesn’t believe he’s doing a good enough job. He teased your clit with his tongue, sucking, licking, going back and forth between the two as you grinded down on his face. He felt a certain thrill at how rough you were being now that you were close to the edge, being far less careful than you had before as you rode his face, desperate to come yet not really wanting the moment to end.

He would be sure to request this later, seeing how irresistible you acted when he ate you out.

You nearly pulled away from him before you came but he felt the muscles in your legs beginning to move, holding you down before you could take this delicacy away from him. You cried out his name as you came on his face, whimpering at the delicate licks he continued to give your clit as you came down from your orgasm. He could probably spend the entire night down there if you allowed him but there was another part of him you were hungry for, something that couldn’t be put off any longer.

You spend a second teasing his cock, licking up and down the vein on the underside of it as it seemed to drive him craziest. There was another stereotype about werewolves that was proven correct but you couldn’t think about it for too long, straddling his waist this time and sitting down on his length (but not allowing it to enter you). You’re slick as you moved back and forth, the head of his dick hitting your clit every time you moved forward, and you took pleasure in seeing the internal debate on Ichiro’s face. What would he do? Would he sit there and take it like a good boy, or would he let out that inner carnivore and show you who’s boss?

You’re pleased it’s the latter, legs spreading as the positions are reversed and you’re now underneath him. He lets out a growl that makes you bite your lip, his eyes on your chest once more before drifting up to your face. He leaned down to kiss you as he lined himself up with your entrance, pressing himself inside of you and waiting an extra second before going deeper. He’s thick and burning hot but it feels too damn good for you to complain about it, your body growing used to the feeling of his thick cock inside you. You’re distracted by his mouth on your chest again, tongue expertly playing with your nipple; his one hand cupped the breast he was playing with while the other held onto your hip, helping him bring your hips to meet his as he thrusted.

The pace he set was rougher than you thought he was capable of yet it still felt good, you could feel his desperation for your touch leaking through. Your hand ran through his hair, tugging as you ordered him to slow it down as you would come to quick if he kept the pace up; he didn’t listen at first which meant finding another weak spot, your hand reaching down in the dark to squeeze his ass, rising up to touch the base of his tail. He let out a whimper at this but finally obeyed, showing he still had a little good boy left in him. You wanted to memorize the way it felt to have him inside you, to have him planting kisses all over your neck and chest, to hear his begging as he didn’t know how much longer he’d last going at this pace.

“Try not to break me in half,” You grinned at him but he didn’t process it, knowing he was given permission to pick the pace up once again.

You’re pressed into the bed as Ichiro fucked you hard and fast, desperate to snap that thread, to finally come after all the hard work he had done to make this a nice night. He deserved this, you think, he deserved to feel good and you were happy that you were the one to do it. If it wasn’t you he wouldn’t be satisfied, Ichiro knew that without the love he felt for you this would just be empty pleasure but his heart felt so full as his lips pressed against yours and he came with one last thrust.

“I love you…” He gasped out, face buried in your neck as he dropped some of his weight on top of you, just enough to create a pleasantly snug sensation. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“I love you too, Ichi, don’t get so worked up.” You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his ears in appreciation and trying not to laugh at the feeling of his tail wagging. “I love you so much it’s unbearable.”

“You think you have it bad, I’ve been thinking about sending my brothers out on a fake job just so we could be alone…” Ichiro sighed as he rolled off of you, knowing that the clean-up would be next but not quite finding the energy to move yet. “That would be bad, right?”

“…I mean, if they’re gonna follow in your footsteps you could at least call it training. Then it won’t feel like you’re lying.”

“…You’re right, that’s a way better idea.”

“That’s what I’m here for!”

“…Thank you for coming over tonight,” Ichiro’s voice is back to being a whisper, “We should get cleaned up.”

“Carry me to the bathroom, won’t you? I can’t guarantee my legs work right now.”

Ichiro laughed.

“Anything for you.”

[whatanoof]

I have a few corruption ideas in mind for cal and I'm just. Okay so like-- reader grinding on/teasing him, maybe while they're hiding in a cave or an empty room in an inquisitor base-- purposefully to the point where he can't hold himself back and he just cums right then and there 👀

Or-- reader accidentally projecting some very, very dirty thoughts towards Cal (bonus points if it's virgin!/inexperienced!Cal), and his reaction to said thoughts ;3c

Don't feel obligated to turn these into full fics or anything tho!! I just like to share my thoughts w ppl and see what they think abt it 🥰💛

SKDJFO THESE ARE GOLD I LOVE THEM.

Oh babe, this isn’t an obligation. This is my PLEASURE. Don’t mind me with my slightly force sensitive reader learning how to weaponize her inexperience against her very innocent boyfriend.

A/N: These turned out a lot more fluffy than I had in mind at first, and probably more so than you had in mind, anon. I'll to expand a little more on these, but I wanted to give you what I have now. More to come!

NSFW TOWARDS THE END 18+

You were two weeks into your relationship the first time it happened. It’s early morning on Bogano, the rare off-day where Cal doesn’t have to take a quest anywhere. The grass glistens in the early morning light, dew droplets sending sparkles of light through the air. You sit in the field, watching the sunrise with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a steaming mug of caf clenched tightly in your hands, gracing your morning with its fragrant smell. Happy chirps and beeps echo through the stillness of the morning as BD-1 scampers around the field, chasing a butterfly that’s been disturbed from its early morning food quest. It’s so domestic that it almost hurts. It reminds you of life before the Purge, when everything was better. Except, now you have Cal.

Not beside you of course, he’s actually the reason that you’re even awake to see the dawn. He stands stock-still in the grass several meters in front of you. He’s relaxed, breathing in the crisp dawn air, eyes closed against the rays of light beginning to conquer the horizon line.

Cere stalks back and forth in front of him, “Focus, Cal.” She hefts a round fruit in her hands about as big as her head. “Sense the life around you. What do you feel?”

Cal pivots slowly on the spot until he’s facing you. “I feel you. And her.” His brow is creased in that one spot between his eyebrows. You want to kiss it. 

“Not us, Cal. The life all around us. There’s a reason I chose Bogano for this lesson.” Cere’s disapproving tone is a common staple around here. The crew has learned to accept it as a sign of affection.

“A bogling. On the ship. It’s looking for food.” Cal says.

You smile. The newest addition to the crew has been nothing but a joy to you and a pain in the ass to Greez. It’s always stealing his favorite snacks and making a mess of his ship, if you count it’s tiny nest in the corner of the kitchen to be ‘a mess’. 

“Better. Expand, Cal.”

Then you feel something at the edge of consciousness, something familiar and strange all at the same time. It wasn’t so much a thing, but a feeling. A presence. If you had to describe it in words, you couldn’t. But if you had to try, it would be in swaths of color and emotions that blend and swirl in the invisible eye of your mind. It’s warm, reds and oranges and yellows fluttering against each other, tinged around the edges by blue, the same blue as Cal’s saber. Cal. The presence is undeniably Cal, the warm colors echoing back to his fiery spunk and stubborn affection. 

Your eyes open. When had they closed? Cal is right there, his hand stretched out in your direction. Cere watches cautiously, eyes flicking between you and him. You see her reluctance to interrupt the moment. 

As if called back to the ground by your distraction, Cal opens his eyes with a soft gasp. The presence retreats, fading from your short grasp as you try to chase it. Your gaze bores into Cal, trying to focus your mind on reaching back out to him. But you can’t.

Cere speaks, “That’s enough Force training for today.” She tosses the previously forgotten fruit directly at Cal’s head. “Think fast. Form V today.”

His lightsaber materializes into his hand, cleanly slicing the offending object out of the air in a single smooth motion. But Cal doesn’t hesitate for a single moment, flowing through different saber forms without difficulty. Cere calls a variety of commands, and each gives way to another attack by Cal. The saber moves like it is an extension of his body, like a deadly serpent that flickers in and out of the air.

This continues for a long time, long enough that you have time to finish off your caf. The drink warms your insides. Watching Cal working so hard to strengthen his connection to the Force warms your heart. Examining the definition of his shoulders and his muscular torso warms other places. Your eyes drift to his ass, emboldened by the illusion of ignorance. You allow your mind to drift. 

You and Cal started dating two weeks ago. There was an irresistible pull between the two of you, to the point where the crew forced you two to acknowledge it. Cal had been cautious, but permission from Greez and a blessing from Cere was all the encouragement he needed, because as he had said so eloquently, “Like you. I like you. A lot.”

And you like Cal. A lot. Nothing physical had happened beyond a single makeout session and more cuddle sessions than you could count. You know that he’s unsure about sex, and because of that you’re more than willing to wait for him to be ready. But that doesn’t mean you can’t look and daydream. 

Your gaze drags over his body, imagining for a moment how it would feel. What it would be like, to be allowed close to him to make him feel good. What his skin would taste like, how your fingers would feel threaded through his bright hair. The sounds that he would make as you go down on him. 

A gasp from the field snaps you out of the daydream. Cal’s facedown on the ground; all you can make out of him from here is the fringe of his poncho and his shock of red hair contrasting against the green environment of Bogano. You stand, hurrying over as Cere helps him up.

“Cal?” She's concerned, you can see it in her eyes even if she won’t verbalize it. You’re worried too. In all of your time aboard the Mantis, you’d seen clumsy Cal maybe once before, and that was because he was goofing off in an attempt to make Greez laugh.

He doesn’t respond to Cere. His gaze snaps up to you, and he says your name urgently. Your brow creases, “What?”

His face is flushed red, and he’s panting as he shakily kneels in the grass. “I think you’re Force-sensitive.”

---

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be easy!” He looks so earnest, like a kicked puppy dog. You avert your eyes. Looking too long means that you will fall prey to the terrible innocent eyes.

“I said no. What’s so hard to understand about that?” You cross your arms tighter over your chest. You know that arguing is futile. Cal is the most stubborn person you know, even more so than Greez and you have witnessed the intense food aggression.

“Babe, it’s one rock. You’re not going to get hurt.”

“I might when it’s going to be flying at my face!” Cere had insisted that you learn to control your Force sensitivity, at the very least so that you could learn how to guard your mind from others. But, she placed Cal in charge of your training. Merrin’s Force abilities were nothing close to what you could hope to accomplish, and you believe Cere’s exact words were, “It will be good for Cal to learn just how irritating training a Padawan can be.”

And so your Jedi boyfriend became your Jedi Master. It was quickly determined that your Force sensitivity was nothing close to the level of Jedi. Your talents extended to thought projection, minor thought detection abilities, and, as Cal had been so excited to learn, basic telekinesis. 

That had been an accidental discovery, actually, brought out of a session wrestling with the Mantis’s control board wiring. You’d lost concentration for a split second, and in a flash of light and electricity, you were nursing a burnt finger. Merrin was attracted to your area by the flash of light and pained cry, and was incredibly surprised to find you with various medical supplies hovering in front of your face while you soaked and bandaged your finger. And she’d snitched on you.

So now you’re on a no name forest planet, facing down your boyfriend who’s threatening to throw a rock at your head in order to force out your hidden telekinesis, because as soon as Merrin witnessed the feat, you’d lost all voluntary control over it.

“Cal, this is a bad idea.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“Yes. Leave me alone. I can shield my thoughts now, that’s all I wanted to do.”

“Oh come on. It doesn’t excite you even a little?”

It does, but not enough that you’d be willing to have a rock thrown at your face. You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, “I’m going back to the ship.”

But as soon as you turn, something sparks on the edge of your conscious mind, and you whirl with an outstretched hand. The rock sails past your fingers and bonks you on the forehead. You clap a hand over your head as pain throbs at the point of contact. “Ow!”

You whip your head up and glare at Cal, who’s standing there, mouth agape and eyes so wide that you can see the whites from here. When he meets your eyes, he shrinks back and turns to run.

“Cal Kestis you are going to pay for that!” You lunge after him, nearly tripping over a root as you scramble after your soon-to-be dead boyfriend. 

He disappears around the corner of the clearing with you hot on his heels. Trees tower over your head in every direction. The only thing interrupting the perfect vision of nature is the dorsal fin of the Mantis spearing up into the sky, guiding you to safety.

And Cal’s running away from it, leading you further into the forest. Branches whip at your face, but you can’t pay attention to them when you’re focusing harder on not losing Cal as he ducks and weaves through the foliage with all of the ease of a jungle cat. Then you round a corner, and he’s gone. 

You’re gasping for breath as you stumble to a stop in the midst of the forest. Damn it Cal. You want to rest, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow Cal to get away with this. He knows that if he gets away now, you’re probably going to be cooled down by the time he gets back to the Mantis, and you can’t have that. You tamp down your anger. Gather yourself. Feel the world around you. Now hold it at arms’ length. You bring your mental shields up slowly, guarding yourself and calming your racing heart through a few deep breaths. Then, you let the barriers down, allowing the world to rush back into your mind. You exhale slowly, combing through the sensations like Cal had taught you, searching for the presence that had become so familiar over the past few months. There!

A flash of warm colors in the midst of the muted Force signatures of plants.

You whirl, scanning the tree branches above you in time to see Cal make a break for it. He’s overhead, about ten feet off of the ground and running along a tree branch so gracefully that it seems like he’s skimming across the air. He’s heading for a vine. ‘Sneaky little--’

‘Sneaky little what?’

You gasp as he teases back through the Force. Your brow sets in determination, and you narrow your gaze on the vine that he’s reaching out for. You settle on it, and reach out. Your consciousness brushes the vine, pulling it just out of Cal’s reach. His outstretched fingers close just short of the vine, and he loses his balance.

He hits the ground with an oof and you plant a foot on his chest. “Sneaky little laserbrain.”

“Babe you did it!” He grins up at you, unrepentant and ruffled from the mad dash through the forest, “Don’t you love your amazing boyfriend who just helped you to learn another Force trick?”

You smile, “I do. But--” you press harder on his chest with your boot, “--you’re still going to pay for that.”

He groans, “I just paid by falling out of a tree. How else would I make it up to you?”

Without your bidding, ideas leap to your mind. “Oh, I have some.” Cal, between your legs and making you cum with only his mouth. You, on your knees for Cal against one of these trees. Riding Cal back on the Mantis, topless and gasping his name as he brushes up against that one spot inside of you that makes you sing. You don’t project them, but you’re aware that your shields aren’t up, and Cal’s Force presence is hovering on the edge of yours.

Cal’s face reddens as he gapes up at you. All of this time, and he still gets worked up at the bare idea of you naked. It’s a little cute. He springs to his feet, “Let’s go back to the ship.”

You hum, looking at him thoughtfully, ‘We don’t need to go back to the ship for a couple of those.’

He chokes, and you smile as you grab the front of his poncho and back him against a large tree. This is going to be fun.

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Patience - 4

Patience:  A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  1786

Warnings: canon typical violence

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

Chapter 4

Natasha was not good at emotions.  She didn’t like them - so she buried them.  It was better to be the cold and heartless assassin who could be killed at any moment than to risk being hurt in a way that mattered.  She shut people out and pushed them towards others so at least she could see what being happy might look like on someone else, even if she never felt it herself.

Except - Natasha was happy.

It took her a little while to realize that was what the feeling was.  She recognized happiness in those short joyful bursts where she’d be with a group of people you care about and they’ve all let their walls down and just briefly she would too.  That quick burst of serotonin never lasted but always felt good while she had it.

That was nothing like what she was feeling now.  It was a long-term contentedness, mixed with hope, and just enough excitement to keep her interested.  It was scary really.  She was vulnerable.  She had something to lose.

Yet all around her things seemed better.  Food tasted better.  Spending time with her friends felt different - she could connect with them more.  Even Clint’s annoying habits seemed to lean more to funny than annoying.

The others noticed it.  Sometimes Clint would flinch when he made some stupid joke - like he was expecting to get cuffed on the back of the head, and when it didn’t come he’d look at her suspiciously - almost as if he thought she was saving up to get him later.

She put it all down to you.

Natasha was falling for you.  Hard.  She sought you out in her free time, and you popped in her head even at awkward times like on missions.  You had cracked through her hard outer shell and even though she was scared of her soft parts being exposed, it felt good.

“Nat, head in the game,” Steve shouted.

Natasha whipped around to see a HYDRA agent running directly at her.  She flipped forward, kicking them in the head and then following through with her baton.  The agent practically flew backward and landed in a heap.

“Nat’s daydreaming about her lover again,” Tony teased as he blasted his way through a bunker.

Natasha scowled.  She had been distracted, and she had been thinking about you.  This kind of grunt work always felt mindless and repetitive, like putting books into boxes.  She was a spy - not a soldier and it was easy to start thinking about other things when she was doing such repetitive work, but usually, the only thing she had occupying her mind was the job and the mindless banter happening over the comms.

“Please never say lover again, Tony,” Clint teased.  “That gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Thor says it all the time!”  Tony argued.

“Yeah, but that’s Thor!”  Clint said.  “Thor can say all kinds of weird shit and it sounds good.  Doesn’t mean you get to.”

“Why thank you, Barton,” Thor chuckled.  “That is very flattering.”

“I’m as good as Thor!”  Tony yelped.

There was a sudden group shouting of dissent and Natasha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face.  She had always had such a love-hate relationship with the group’s banter during battle.  It was nice being part of them, and she did enjoy dropping her own snarky comment into the mix but growing up the way she did - fights were serious - fun was for other people.  It felt slightly wrong to be joking while you were also fighting for her life.

“Let’s all agree right now that no one, not even Thor mentions anything about my lovers,” Natasha snarked.

The group continued to fight, Natasha pushing all thoughts of you down and focusing on the job.  By the time everyone had been arrested, the operation had been shut down and Natasha had performed the lullaby on Hulk, it was late and Natasha was exhausted to the bone.

She piloted the Quin back silently, just listening to Clint jabber away as her thoughts drifted back to you.  She knew there would be a debrief to go to, but what she really wanted was to go straight to your place and curl up next to you before passing out for a good twelve hours.

She could wait.  She was better at that now.  Besides, it was worth the wait.

She guided the jet down onto the launch pad and as it drew the jet down into the hanger, she and Clint began the cool-down procedures.  The back of the jet opened up and everyone got up and trudged off.

When Clint got up to disembark, Steve took his place.  “What happened out there today?”  He asked.  “You nearly lost your head.”

“That’s why we’re a team, isn’t it?”  Natasha asked.  “Make sure no one misses anything?  Get each other’s backs?”

“Of course,” Steve assured her.  “And we’re all here to pick up the slack.”

“I’m hearing a big ‘but’ coming,” Natasha said.

Steve smiled and shook his head.  “But…” he said.  “It’s not like you, Nat.  You always have your head in the game more than anyone else.  You’re the one I don’t have to worry about.  So when I do, it worries me.  Is everything okay?”

Natasha frowned.  Her head wasn’t in the game.  Steve was right.  She was happy and happiness meant her work was suffering.

“Everything is fine, Steve,” she said.

“You sure?”  Steve said.  “I’m only asking as a friend.  If there was something up, I’d want to help.”

“It’s fine.  I’ll sort it out,” Natasha said.

Natasha was exhausted by the time she showed up at your place.  She hadn’t slept for almost thirty-six hours and she thought that she’d broken a rib in the battle.  She needed to see you though.  Rip it off like a band-aid.  She liked you.  She liked you a lot.  So much that if she didn’t cut it off now it was going to turn into love and once that happened, she wouldn’t be able to do it.  If she was with you, she would be worse at her job, and if she didn’t have her job, she was nothing.

She knocked on your door.

She could hear you singing on the other side and when you pulled the door open your whole face lit up.  “Tasha!”  You squeaked and launched yourself into her arms.  She made a pained ‘oof’ sound as you wrapped your arms around her, but that didn’t hurt as much as her heart did right at this moment.  You were always so cool and put together, the excitement and pure joy you expressed seeing her were too much.  Natasha was going to hurt you and it was going to kill her to do it.  “I didn’t know you were back.  I am so happy to see you.”

“Krasotka,” Natasha said, closing her arms around you and breathing you in.

You must have heard the pain in her voice because you pulled back immediately and looked you over.  “Are you hurt?”  You asked, pulling her inside.  “Let me get you some ice.”

“It’s fine,” Natasha assured you.  “I’m fine.”

“I can tell you aren’t,” you said, guiding her to the couch and almost pushing her down on it to sit.  “What do you need?  Have you eaten?  I can get you food.  Something to drink?”  You paused and quirked your eyebrow.  “Earth-shattering orgasm?”

“Sit down, Krasotka,” she said.  “We need to talk.”

You narrowed your eyes and took a seat, folding your arms over your chest.  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Natasha nodded.  “I can’t do this anymore.”

“‘This’ as in ‘us’?”  You asked.

“That’s right,” Natasha said.  Her heart was already hurting.  She wished she was a stronger person.  Someone who was allowed to have everything.  Someone who could be in love and do her job.  Someone who could be happy and not feel like the world was falling apart because of it.

“I supposed I should be glad you’re doing this in person,” you said, sitting back in your chair.  “Do I get a reason?”

“Does it matter?”  Natasha asked.

You nodded.  “Yes.  Because I know you’re happy when you’re with me, and I know you like me, so whatever it is, is stupid and if you say it out loud, I’m hoping you’ll be smart enough to figure that out yourself.  I have faith in you.”

“I do like you,” Natasha said.  “This isn’t about you.  It’s about me.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, raising your hands. “I don’t think I have ever gotten the ol’ it’s not you, it’s me before.  Continue.”

Natasha was getting angry now.  She had expected you to be upset, not hostile.  She had prepared for tears and begging, not to be told she was an idiot.  She sat up straight and folded her arms.  “This is hard for me, okay?  I don’t owe you an explanation.  It was fun.  But now it’s over.”

“And that’s that?”  You said.

“Yes,” Natasha said, getting up.  “That’s that.” 

You stood up too, bailing her up against the wall.  She was half tempted to actually fight you.  If that’s what you wanted to make this, she was quite capable of kicking your ass.  You brought your face close to hers, she could feel the warmth of your breath on her lips.  “You’re making a mistake, Natasha.  I don’t know what happened while you were gone that got you all up in your head and made you think you don’t deserve me, but it doesn’t really matter.  The world is not a place of fairness or balance.  It’s just random chaos and in that, you called to me and I came.  You’re going to realize that breaking up is a mistake.  I know you will because it is.  We’re good together and you wanted me.  I can wait.  I’m very patient.”

A million different arguments popped into Natasha’s head but instead, she just pushed you away and stormed out.  She had never felt the desire to cry as much as she did right now.  Her heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces and she’d done it to herself.  She walked down the street not even knowing where she was headed, all she knew was that she wanted to go back up to you and tell you she was sorry and that you were right, but her anger and her pigheadedness stopped her.  There was a bar on the corner, she went straight inside.  She wouldn’t cry but she would drink.  Maybe she’d even find someone to take her home tonight.  Right now she’d do anything to stop herself from thinking that she’d made a huge mistake.

// NEXT

[cowboy-like-mee]

a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

summary: y/n deals with the aftermath of harry leaving her

warnings: angst af!!!! possible ED tw 

word count: 2k

a/n: i was really sad so i started writing this to try to relieve some of the emotions built up in my body :)))))) 

this is based off the song “a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be” by jess benko. lyrics are spread throughout this in bold and italics so hopefully it isn’t too confusing!!

masterlist

Nothing hurts more than pretending like everything’s okay, when you’re falling apart on the inside. When you want nothing more than to be with your love. Hold him in your arms and give him little kisses whenever you want. Dance around the kitchen and sing songs from your youth.  

Harry. Beautiful Harry. Your boy.

He’s not yours anymore. You have to remind yourself.

You’re miserable without him, but he’s better without you. The pain of being with you was much greater than the thought of leaving you. 

So he left. 

You’ll never forgive yourself. 

Everyday seems to get worse. The days blend together. 

You fall asleep, not sleeping well. You wake up, regretfully, tired from another restless night. The day drags on, never seeming to end. You walk around like a zombie. Daydreaming about going home to the love of your life, instead going home to an empty apartment and an empty fridge.

You can’t bring yourself to eat. You can’t bring yourself to even try to watch TV. You go straight to bed and stare at the ceiling till you eventually fall asleep. And then it repeats. And repeats. Again and again and again. 

You can’t even remember what day it is. You don’t know if you’re supposed to go to work or if you’re off. You wake up anyway. Anything to distract yourself from the never ending cycle of numbness and loneliness. Self loathing and empty stomachs. The nagging feeling in the back of your mind telling you things could have been different.

Maybe if you had done things a little different. Maybe if you had smiled a little more. Laughed at a few more of his jokes or hugged him a little bit tighter. Maybe if you had started accepting his offer to go on walks with him. Or watched a few more movies with him.

 If you could go back you would never say no to anything he requested. 

You would gladly sit through any of the god awful romantic comedies he’s obsessed with. Or drink the terrible black coffee he has every morning. 

But no. Things change and people change. You drifted apart. You’ll never have him again. The giggles and late night love making. Him singing you to sleep or washing each other’s hair in the shower. 

Sobs wrack your body for the first time in months. You hadn’t cried like this since the day he left. The memories seep back into your conscious, haunting you.

His bright green eyes flash behind your eyelids. His voice is ringing through your ears. You can feel his lips on your neck and his hands wrapped around your body. 

You stand up, shaking your head and pulling at the roots of your hair. Trying to rip the memories straight out of your brain. You’ve never felt this kind of pain. Pure anguish. The reality finally setting in that he’s gone.

He had finally had enough of you. What he once loved and adored, he loathed.

He was far too gone once you realized. You were far too selfish to realize the man you love was slowly falling out of love with you.  

“Y/N?” He had called your name gently.

“Hm?” You hummed, not looking up from your phone where you had been texting your friend for the last half an hour. 

He took a deep breath, trying not to snap. “Can we talk?”

This got your attention. You looked up, brows furrowed, and set your phone down on the couch. “What?”

“I-I...I think we should take a break.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. 

“Wh-what?” You whispered, feeling tear prick your eyes.

“I...want to take a break from each other.”

You stared at the man sitting in front of you. You noticed how different he looked from the man you fell in love with. He looked sad. He looked exhausted. You didn’t know at the time it was because of you. You thought maybe he was having a rough time with himself. But now it’s crystal clear.

 You changed. You weren’t the same woman he fell in love with. You two barely went on dates. You hadn’t had sex in months. You two hadn’t even been going to bed together. You would always go to bed first. He would sit in the living room, crying over his broken relationship. He would eventually crawl into bed, laying as far from you as possible. You hadn’t even noticed, being too caught up in your own life, not noticing your boyfriend slowly crumbling apart in front of your eyes.

So you agreed. You agreed to take a break from each other for two months. You wouldn’t date anybody or sleep with anyone, but you two had to stay apart from each other. It was easier for him than he hoped. He felt like he had freedom. He felt like he could breathe finally, not suffocating in his own home.

You had a different experience. You never realized how much you relied on him. The dishes piled up and your laundry was never washed. The fridge never got full of groceries at the beginning of the week. You had no one to cook you dinner or ask how you looked in a certain outfit. You missed him.

The two months was almost over and you had already planned out everything you were going to say. Your apology and your speech on how much you appreciated and loved him. You knew you fucked up and you knew you had to own up to your mistakes. Your negligence to him.

And then you got the call.  

Stranger, that's all I see

The piercing sound of your phone ringing cut through the silence of the apartment. You jumped in your spot on the couch, where you were folding your clothes. 

When I look into your eyes

Harry’s contact flashed across the screen. You didn't know if you should feel relieved or terrified. Did he finally have enough of this break and was ready to come running into your open arms? 

You hesitantly slid across the bottom of the screen to answer.

“Harry?” 

He cleared his throat. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, I’ve missed you so much, Harry.”

He winced at the sentence, his eyes already beginning to water and his throat feeling tight. “Listen,  Y/N. I have something to tell you.”

A soulmate who wasn't meant to be

Your heart stops beating at the tone of his voice. “Okay...”

You heard his breathing over the line for a few heartbeats before he finally spit it out, “I’m moving back home.”

Your heart leaped put of your chest. “Harry! I’m so happy. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve reorganized a lot of our place. I’ve had a lot of free time-”

“No, Y/N. I’m moving back to England.” He cut you off. 

Your mouth hung open. A lump immediately formed in your throat. You attempted to swallow it down. “Oh.” You let out shakily, trying to hide the sound of the trembling in your voice.

“Yeah.”

You both sat in silence for a minute, not knowing what to say.

“So, when are you coming back?”

He tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. You were always so stubborn, and that was one of the things he used to love about you.

He sighed loudly, “I’m not coming back.”

“Are-are you breaking up with me, H?”

He squeezed his eye shut and shook his head. No matter how bad you are for him, he still loved you, and it still fucking hurts to do this. 

“Yes, Y/N. I’m breaking up with you.” He said as steadily as he could manage.

Stranger, who knows all my secrets

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle the cries leaving your body. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me over the phone!” You yelled into the phone, unable to control your emotions any longer.

“We haven’t seen each other in months, Y/N! You should’ve known this was gonna happen eventually!”

“I thought this break was supposed to make us come out stronger, not tear us apart!”

“We’ve been torn apart for a lot longer than you think.”

You didn’t know how to reply. He was right. You just never realized it. He had been feeling this way for a long time. This was inevitable. 

“I’m so sorry, Harry. This is all my fault. I love you so much. You’re the only thing that holds me together. I know I fucked up and I ruined our relationship and everything good we had. Please, please, please, don’t do this. I'll do anything for another chance. We can take it slow. Anything. I can’t lose you, baby. You’re the love of my life. My light.”

He shakes his head and blinks away the tear threatening to spill over. “Y/N, no. I can’t keep doing this. We haven't been good for a long time. I‘m broken. I can’t keep going in circles. I need time for myself. We’ll find other people. I love you and I’ll always love you, but I can’t be with you anymore.”

You cried harder at his words. Nothing hurts more than knowing he’s leaving because you hurt him so bad. He still loves you.

The thought of Harry loving anyone else fucking hurts. The thought of him kissing another person and giving them the secret touches you used to share. You’re breathing is shallow and quick, sobs wracking your body.

“H, please. I-I can’t-”

“Goodbye, Y/N. Maybe one day in the future we can talk again, but I have to go. You’ll be okay.” He hung up. 

Can pull me apart and break my heart

You immediately tried to call him back, ready to plead with him to try again with you. 

The call didn’t go through. He blocked your number. You threw your phone across the room, hearing the glass shatter as it hit the wall then the ground. You dropped to the ground, loud cried of misery leaving your body. 

It went on like this for days, weeks. You eventually had nothing left to cry. Your mind going numb. Everything reminded you of him. His smell lingering in your once shared apartment. The stuff he ever bothered picking up still sitting around your apartment. Even looking at yourself in the mirror reminds you of him. The way he would compliment very feature on your face, making you develop the confidence he had instilled in you.

All of that leads to now. 

The empty apartment and the grumbling stomach. You can’t remember the last time you had a proper meal. Nothing wanting to stay down. 

So there you sit. In your empty home. Surrounded by long lost memories of the love you once shared with Harry. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. Feeling uncapable of ever loving again. Thinking of your lost love, thousands of miles away. Missing a piece of your soul, never to be replaced again. 

But you’ll be okay. He said you would be. 

A soulmate who wasn't meant to be

pt 2

[thebiggestshrimp]

A Special “Souvenir”: part 4

NSFW (finally)

MLQC: Victor X MC (featuring Kiro)

Potential Spoilers!! smut and fluff! The last three parts were world building fluff, yk basically my headcannon. If you like smut that has established characters with relationships, then this is for you!!

Perspective Switches: I like to occasionally switch the perspective to one of the boys, in this case being Victor and Kiro. You’ll notice it when there is a double space break in the flow of the story. All I’m doing is switching to what I think would be a more interesting perspective to read the events from. When the double space ends, we switch back to MC perspective.

Word Count: 3.1k (oh man)

Part 3 link

Part 4

“What would the lovely couple like to order today?” questioned the always smiling Mr. Mills.

Calling you two a couple shocked you, and Kiro too by the way his knee jerked and slammed into the table. You thought you heard a grunt from the kitchen, thinking it was funny even Victor was bothered by that simple statement.

“Ahhh, can we have another minute or so?” Kiro said in a slightly pained voice, attempting to convince you he didn’t just hit his knee on the table. “There are just so many delicious options and I’m having trouble deciding”.

Mr. Mills warm smile never faded as he spoke. “No worries, I’ll come back in a few minutes then.” 

Although you were having the same problem as Kiro, you knew for sure you wanted some of Victor’s pudding. It had been 2 months since you last convinced him to make you a bowl, using the fact that he called your report “Alright” instead of “Not bad” as reason enough to reward you.

You only just now realized you had forgotten to correct Mr. Mills on his incorrect assumption that you and Kiro are dating. It was already too late to say anything, and denying it now would make things awkward. Besides, you knew that you were here to platonically enjoy dinner with your friend, so what others say shouldn’t bother you.

Oh but how it does bother you.

You looked towards the kitchen, wondering what payment Victor had in mind for the two of you. You were thinking he’d make you run to the market to pick him some fresh produce like last time. But then again last time you two had a moment. Or well, you thought you did.

The way that question accidently slipped from your lips. The way his eyes lingered on yours for so long while he inched ever so closer to you. 

“Victor, have you ever been with someone from work?”

You felt your breathing slow a bit; you were nervous. He was your boss, and you had figured he would never consider you since you worked together, and well, because you were pretty sure he didn’t think of you in any way besides a friend.

But that one moment made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he reciprocated your feelings, even if it was just a little.

Coming back from your daydreaming, you realized Mr. Mills had returned. Kiro’s voice was directed to you.

“______, is it okay if I order for us both? I think I have a good idea of what you’d like”.

“Oh, yes, that would be fine, thank you”.

You once again turned your head towards the kitchen, swearing you caught a glimpse of the elusive chef. You were itching to see him, even though you were not excited to hear him complain about how you failed to turn in your report.

“Does that sound good with you, ________?”

You snapped your head back to Kiro, and shook it. What did you just agree to?

The wait for the meal was tedious. It wasn’t like you didn’t have anything to talk to Kiro about, but because you were already so distracted by the semi-lewd thoughts of your boss, your heart wasn’t really in the conversation.

Kiro noticed this, wondering what he was doing wrong to make you this uninterested in him. He quickly decided to change the topic to something he figured you’d like better.

“How was the producing of the last Miracle Finder Show? I watched it while I was in Iceland and knew it had to be a soul crushing production”.

This finally did get your attention, finally able to vent about all the hard work and late (and you mean late) nights spent at the office making sure it was as perfect as it could be. Even though the production was, as Kiro put it, a bit “soul crushing”, it was worth it to see how popular it was with the audience.

“Honestly, that’s my favorite show we’ve ever produced. It took a lot of effort from the whole team, and everyone really pulled through to get this as perfect as possible”

You rambled on and on, barely letting Kiro say anymore then “Mmhmm” and “Oh wow”, but he was ecstatic to get you talking like this, especially since he knew.

He knew you had feelings for your boss. He had realized it when you told him you were busy the Saturday he tried to ask you out “on a date” to the park. He decided to head out to the park anyway (in disguise) and spotted the two of you. The stoic look on the CEO’s face made it hard to judge how he felt, but the fact that he was even out with you was enough to know that he definitely felt something. And God dammnit, why was he so handsome?

But when he saw your face, the way you smiled at him and the subtle touches shared between you. He knew how you felt. So why didn’t you look at him like that? What was the CEO doing right that he wasn’t?

He would find out. And he would change your mind. He wanted you and he would get you.

Mr. Mills was masterfully carrying three trays of food, each holding a delicious meal hand prepared by Victor. He was in the kitchen, cleaning up and preparing to finish up by making his pudding. The creamy yet almost jiggly consistency was enough to melt the tastebuds of anyone who ate it, including Victor. But tonight, he was careful making it (adding in a tad bit more love then normal, although Victor would deny it), adding two cherries on top just for you. He stored it in the fridge, hidden behind a few of his ingredients so that it would surprise you. While sweeping the floor, he overheard some conversation between Kiro and you. It seems he had gotten you talking about work, and now all he could hear was your rambling on how stressed out you were while working the last month.

He was hoping you weren’t openly bad-mouthing him to a stranger, but knew you wouldn’t have anything truly hurtful to say about him.

He smiled thinking about how he would make you pay for your meal. 

“I can’t believe you let me ramble for like, 20 minutes Kiro! It’s embarrassing to just vent in public like this!” You half-whispered jokingly to Kiro.

Kiro smiled that celebrity smile of his. “Mmm, but you it was so cute to listen to you. Besides, isn’t it the job of a friend to always listen to another?” He then playfully kicked your leg under the table.

“Hey!” you said with a giggle. “We’re at a restaurant! Save the childish actions for the park”. Even though you said it a bit of a harsh tone, he smiled mischievously. Then the barrage started.

Playful kick after kick came from Kiro. You finally gave in and played his game, sending your patented “double-kick” his way. The fight ended with the two of you laughing hysterically, just like children.

When you calmed down a bit, you put your head in your hands and looked at Kiro. He was completely caught off guard by how cute you looked right now. He looked to the right for a moment, although all he wanted to do was strip you of all your clothes and turn you around on this table and smother you with kisses and-

“Well, I guess it’s time to pay, you know, figure out what “punishment” the chef has in store for us”.

Coming back from his daydream, Kiro nodded in agreement.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom real quick, but go ahead and call Mr. Mills over so we can receive our ‘punishment’”. He enunciated ‘punishment’ with air quotes and a wink.

With an already hard member, Kiro speed walked to the bathroom. He had to get rid of this fast.

Alone with your thoughts, you sat there for a moment, thinking that you had forgotten something. Shaking it off, you called Mr. Mills over and told him you and Kiro had finished your meals.

“I’ll take you and your dates dishes for you then” said Mr. Mills.

With a face full of red, you quickly corrected him. “Oh but we’re just friends! I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier”.

Mr. Mills only looked at you with a smile, and nodded saying “Of course, sorry for my mistake”. Skillfully holding the dishes in his hands, he turned towards the kitchen and remarked, “The chef will be glad to hear that”.

A bit confused by what he meant, you waited for Kiro to return, or for Mr. Mills to tell you what the chef had in mind as payment. Mr. Mills returned first.

“The chef has decided that you will be coming back to help in the kitchen, Mrs. ______”. He looked around for a second, and added, “I’ll wait here for your friend to return so that I may tell him what his payment will be”.

You felt bad that you had to leave without being able to talk to Kiro more, but your mind quickly switched over to the verbal abuse you might receive from your boss when he reminds you of your missing report.

You walk into the kitchen to a familiar, sexy voice.

“Glad you could make it”.

You met with a pair of gorgeous violet eyes, lingering on them for a moment too long. You blushed and turned your head to the countertop, pretending like he wasn’t the most interesting thing to look at.

You decided to open up with the report, figuring that apologizing while he seemed to be in a good mood was the best move.

“So, uh, I may have forgotten to get the report to you before 5 PM today, but don’t worry I have it now and can get it before I leave or right now if you-”.

Victor waved his hand, cutting you off. “Don’t bother, I wasn’t at the office all day, so you would never have been able to give it to me anyhow. However, I expect that report to be in my hands at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning”.

You unintentionally let out a sigh, glad that he wasn’t angry. You felt that you could finally relax. As tired as you were, you were ready to finish whatever Victor had in mind and head home for the most peaceful sleep you could imagine.

“Open the fridge”. Said a particularly demanding voice.

You open the French door refridgerator, bending over to look inside, realizing you don’t actually know what he wants you to look at.

Little do you know, Victor was admiring the curves of your body, which lead into your rather plump ass. Before you turned around, he handed you a list.

“These are ingredients that I need for making my pudding, make sure I have enough of each”.

Shuffling through some of the products in his fridge, you notice a delicious looking dessert hidden in the back.

“Oh my god, Victor did you make pudding?!” You couldn’t hold back your excitement, reaching for the pudding to take it out.

Seeing your childlike reaction made Victor smile, which you turned around just in time to see. Blushing for the umpteenth time today, you thanked him for making your favorite.

“It’s for you to take home. Remember, you haven’t paid for your meal yet”.

You look up at him expectantly, thinking he would have you clean the dishes or mop the floor. Instead, he steps closer to you, and leans down so that you are both eye level.

You freeze, feeling his breath on your skin, the eye contact between you never breaking. You felt like you could feel the tension in the air. Victor finally broke it.

“I just have a few questions for you. That will be your payment”.

You nodded, still frozen.

“Please be honest with me, right now we are friends, Victor and _______, not boss and coworker.”

You only continued to look at his pretty violet eyes. He seemed a bit anxious. It felt like he wasn’t completely confident in himself, unlike how he always appeared at work.

He let out a sigh. “Dummy”.

He continued. “I like you”.

Your mouth dropped in shock. Did Victor just say he likes me?? Did he seriously say that? What?

You didn’t know how to say what you were thinking, but you knew just how you felt. You were estatic to hear that he felt the same. Oh what a wonderful end to your day.

“Victor I, I feel the same. I just thought that you didn’t feel the same and that if I admitted my feelings you would shut me down for being unprofessional and that it might ruin...”

Victor’s eyes told you to be quiet. A smile crept onto Victor’s face, and a laugh escaped you. You rambled again, how embarrassing.

Victor took a step away from you, allowing you room to breathe. You thought you were finished with your payment, but little did you know what Victor had in mind.

“I guess I should go see if Kiro is finished with whatever task you handed him, he is my ride home after all”.

Victor folded his arms, leaning on the countertop. “Dummy, I don’t remember saying that you had paid for your meal. Come here”.

You turned around, nervously. Did he want a kiss? Was this how he wanted to officially start your relationship? I thought we would talk about it some more privately.

You stepped right in front of him, looking up at him. The height difference forced you to strain your neck to meet his gaze.

Victor’s voice lingered in the air. “Do you want to have some fun before I send you home?”

Unsure of what he meant, you nodded.

With your consent, he picked you up and lightly set you on his countertop, leaning over to place kisses on your lips. He moved to your neck, loosening his tie. He gently pushed your legs a part, nibbling at your panties. You could feel how wet he was making you. Victor reached up your thighs, his big hands gripping them tightly. He wrapped his pinkies around your panties, pulling them down and past your feet.

You heard a low throaty growl come from Victor, and it only turned you on more. He flicked his tongue on your clit. The tingling sensation made your body move erratically. He looked up at you, a smile clearly visible on his handsome face. He continued teasing your slick with his fingers and tongue, occasionally fighting the urge to reach down and grope himself.

“Can I put my fingers in?”

You only moaned in response.

Victor stopped all movement and met your eyes.

“I want a yes from you before I continue”. His tone was demanding, almost hungry sounding.

Flushed red, you opened your mouth to meekly say, “Yes, please Victor”.

He moved his hands back to your slick, slowly positioning his fingers to your entrance. Gently, he pushed his index finger in. The high-pitched moan let Victor know you were having fun.

“Good”, He said through a smile. “I’m glad I can make you feel this good with nothing but my fingers, but next time you’ll repay the favor to me”.

Victor prepared to put in his middle finger, but suddenly you spoke up.

“More, I want more of you...”

Elated to hear your excitement, he put in four fingers, using his middle and ring finger to hit your pleasure spot. Rubbing it slowly, then picking up his pace when your moans quieted down. With his tongue he licked and sucked on your clit, bringing wave after wave of pleasure.

Although you were no stranger to sex, you were pretty sure you had never cum before. You pretended, because you really didn’t want to make your ex’s feel like they were inadequate, but here, right now with Victor, he completely blew everyone else away. You didn’t know what it felt like to be on the edge, usually being too tired after work to commit to your full pleasure. But the erotic feelings deep in your core made it impossible to focus on anything.

You only knew what you wanted right now.

Fighting the “growing” urge to touch himself, Victor focused on making you cum. He wanted you, he wanted to fill you up and refuse to stop until he chased his own release. But right now, he wanted to make you feel so satisfied that you would come back for more immediately.

Besides, Victor felt that truly intimate sex should be saved for the bedroom, especially the first couple of times. But that wasn’t going to stop him from making you cum now.

You were nearly there, unintentionally squeezing your walls around his fingers. You had asked him to stop, not really meaning it, but because you were so unfamiliar with this foreign feeling your brain was begging for the pleasure to end. You only wanted this to end in one way though, and so did Victor. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh myyy, Victor!!!” He only continued with his motions, never ceasing. 

You lost all thought, unaware of how loud you were being. “I’m gonna cum, ohhh!”

Nothing but pleasure ran through your mind, your legs shaking around Victor. You had closed your eyes, breathing heavily, attempting to calm down. Once your breathing slowed, and your made eye contact with Victor, he fully removed his fingers and stood up. He went to grab a towel from the drawer, wiping his face and fingers clean before handing it to you.

Victor was grinning, trying and failing to hide it. “I hope that this experience was satisfactory for you”.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous comment. He knew you enjoyed yourself.

“Well, this was quite the start to our relationship, I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow then?” 

“Mmm, you will. I’m sure your friend is waiting at his car for you”.

A bit sad to leave, you grabbed your purse and started to walk out, wen Victor’s hand met yours.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Confused, you cluelessly blinked at him.

He let out his second sigh of the day (ever since you’d met, you had been keeping track of the number of times he would sigh when talking to you). “Dummy, you’re leaving the pudding I worked so hard to make for you”.

Embarrassed, you took the cute little bag he had put it in and then turned to leave.

Behind you Victor’s voice, as sexy and suave as it was, left you with one last comment. 

“When you eat my pudding later, let it be a reminder to you of what happened here today”. He let out a mischievous laugh. “A souvenir, if you will”.

I seriously have to apologize for leaving yall hanging for like a month! I was very busy and rarely found time to work on this, so thank you for being patient and I hope yall like it ;)

[bloody-bee-tea]

Confessions are hard

Happy New Year!

Jiang Cheng waves for Nie Huaisang when he sees him enter the diner and then he has to watch as Nie Huaisang flicks his fan open to hide his face behind.

He does that a lot lately, and it makes Jiang Cheng frown every time because what does he have to hide so badly that he doesn’t even step outside of the house without his fan anymore?

Jiang Cheng hasn’t asked him yet, but the question is on his tongue every time he sees Nie Huaisang.

But just like all the other times before, Jiang Cheng swallows his questions back and simply waves Nie Huaisang over. When he’s standing next to the booth Jiang Cheng got for them, Nie Huaisang hesitates.

“Get in here, would you,” Jiang Cheng says with a roll of his eyes and reaches out to take Nie Huaisang’s hand in his and pull him down next to him.

Nie Huaisang freezes and that, too, is something Jiang Cheng has observed a lot lately.

It’s even more worrisome than the fan in Jiang Cheng’s opinion but with this, too, he hasn’t asked. Yet.

If Jiang Cheng is being honest, he is afraid that the answer will be something he doesn’t like.

Jiang Cheng is by far not the most physically affectionate person—that title undoubtedly goes to Wei Wuxian—but with Nie Huaisang things are different. They have been friends for so long that Jiang Cheng feels entirely comfortable around him and so reaching out for Nie Huaisang and keeping him close comes as a second nature to Jiang Cheng by now.

He tried to curb that impulse when he realized that he fell in love with Nie Huaisang, but it made Nie Huaisang worry and so Jiang Cheng went back to his old ways. It’s still—good, to be able to touch Nie Huaisang like this and Jiang Cheng would never do anything to abuse his trust.

But maybe someone else did?

Nie Huaisang was blackout drunk during the last party, and maybe someone else was not quite as considerate about Nie Huaisang’s personal boundaries as Jiang Cheng. Maybe someone touched him in ways that Nie Huaisang didn’t like.

Just the thought makes Jiang Cheng’s blood boil with rage and he takes a deep breath.

“You alright?” Nie Huaisang carefully asks from his side and Jiang Cheng jerks at hearing his voice, too lost in his own thoughts.

“Yeah, sure, I’m alright,” Jiang Cheng presses out and then gives Nie Huaisang what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just wondering,” Nie Huaisang asks and then he pulls the menu closer to himself. “Did you order already?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course not,” Jiang Cheng scoffs out, even though he could.

They have been at this diner often enough that Jiang Cheng knows Nie Huaisang’s order by heart and he could have ordered for both of them.

But that would probably reveal too much about Jiang Cheng’s feelings and so he decided to simply wait for Nie Huaisang to arrive.

“Alright,” Nie Huaisang says as he catches the attention of a waiter.

He orders—for both of them—and then puts the menu back.

“Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng says, because while he fretted over ordering for both of them, Nie Huaisang simply did it and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do with that.

“What?” Nie Huaisang absentmindedly says, busy checking his phone, but he frowns when he finally looks up. “You did want the burger, right?”

“Hell, yes,” Jiang Cheng says with emphasis because he has been daydreaming about this damn burger all day long, but still.

Nie Huaisang knows him well enough to order for him and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do with that at all.

“I—oh,” Nie Huaisang says, when he finally seems to realize what he just did, but by then Jiang Cheng has himself mostly back under control so he simply flicks Nie Huaisang’s forehead.

“Now you realize,” he good-naturedly teases and watches as Nie Huaisang blushes, before he hides it behind his fan again.

“Should I apologize?” Nie Huaisang unsurely asks and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“We’re friends. You can know my order,” he then says and watches as Nie Huaisang slowly relaxes again.

Jiang Cheng tries very hard not to think about the lingering, dull pain in his chest that he always experiences when he brings attention to the fact that they are friends.

Friends, and nothing more.

“How was your day?” Jiang Cheng asks, in an attempt to distract himself, because he knows from experience that nothing good ever comes of those thoughts and he would much rather hear how Nie Mingjue tried and failed yet again to tell Lan Xichen that he’s in love with him.

It’s much easier than to think about the fact that Jiang Cheng is in a very similar position to Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

“I am so fucking mad,” Jiang Cheng calls out the moment he steps inside Nie Huaisang’s apartment and Nie Huaisang pokes his head around the corner.

“About what? Do you need chips with your anger?” he asks and Jiang Cheng huffs and puffs, because of course he needs chips with his anger.

What kind of stupid question is that even.

“Alright, then,” Nie Huaisang mutters and vanishes in the kitchen. Jiang Cheng marches over to the couch, where he plops himself down. He puts his head back and takes a deep breath, trying to center himself, but the anger is still swirling in his gut, and while he knows it’s stupid—that’s just how Wei Wuxian is, after all—he can’t help himself.

“What happened?” Nie Huaisang asks when he comes back, bringing chips with him and before Jiang Cheng answers him, he makes grabby hands at them. “Alright, alright,” Nie Huaisang laughs and hands the chips over without a fight, before he sits down at the opposite end of the couch.

Jiang Cheng is not at all content with the distance between them and so he reaches out to drag Nie Huaisang’s feet into his lap.

If Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to sit close then this will have to do.

Nie Huaisang goes very still for a moment and Jiang Cheng sees how his hand moves, like it would be if he had his fan in his hand, and Jiang Cheng tries not to think about it too much.

“Wei Wuxian happened, that’s what,” Jiang Cheng says, right before he stuffs his face full of chips and it makes Nie Huaisang laugh and relax, so he counts it as a win.

As soon as Jiang Cheng’s mouth is empty he starts to retell what utter bullshit Wei Wuxian has been up to—and will no doubt get away with—when Nie Huaisang suddenly speaks up.

“Does it ever bother you?” he asks out of the blue and Jiang Cheng stills.

“Wei Wuxian? Yes, all the goddamn fucking time, did you not listen to a word I just said?” he incredulously asks but Nie Huaisang shakes his head.

“No, that I’m in love with you,” he says and it’s so completely not what Jiang Cheng expected that he freezes for a good long minute.

“Because sometimes I think it does, but then things like today happen, and I get confused,” Nie Huaisang rambles when Jiang Cheng takes too long to answer and the shaky tone to his voice finally jolts Jiang Cheng out of his stupor.

“Excuse me, you’re in what now with who?” he asks, cutting Nie Huaisang off before he can say something else that doesn’t make sense and Nie Huaisang blinks at him.

“I’m in love? With you?” he asks, clearly unsure himself now as well and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“How the fuck would that bother me when I didn’t even know about that!” he then yells, because if he had known about that sooner than he wouldn’t have to pine all this damn time.

“But I confessed to you!” Nie Huaisang yells back and it’s again a sentence so stunning that Jiang Cheng goes motionless.

“You what?” he demands to know and his confusion only grows when Nie Huaisang nods at him. “When the hell was that?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he is pretty damn sure that he would remember something like his best friend, the guy he’s been in love with for close to two years now, confessing to him.

“At the party,” Nie Huaisang mumbles and he takes his feet back, curls up at the end of the couch and Jiang Cheng can tell that he’s missing his fan pretty badly right now.

“At the party,” Jiang Cheng repeats, because he was there, at the party.

He was even sober, as the designated driver for the night, and so this still doesn’t make any more sense than before.

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang hisses out. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, you don’t have to play dumb like this.”

“I am not playing dumb, Huaisang, it just never happened. You didn’t confess to me!”

“But I did,” Nie Huaisang says with a small frown, clearly hurt by Jiang Cheng’s adamant answer. “I remember telling you I love you.”

“Oh no,” Jiang Cheng says and smacks his forehead, because he thinks he knows what Nie Huaisang remembers.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang says, clearly misunderstanding Jiang Cheng’s reaction and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“You didn’t confess, Huaisang,” he quickly tells him, because he cannot bear to see the heartbroken look on Nie Huaisang’s face, especially when there’s no reason for it.

“But—”

“You were drunk,” Jiang Cheng says. “Really goddamn drunk. And you came up to me, and you took my face into your hands, squished my cheeks and then said, and I quote: “I luuuuuuuuv ya, ma bro” before you leaned over and threw up on my shoes. Excuse me for misinterpreting that, but I don’t think that counts as a love confession.”

Nie Huaisang stares at him with big eyes, his entire face suddenly pale.

“That bastard,” he then hisses and Jiang Cheng raises his eyebrows questioningly at him.

“Let me guess, Wei Wuxian?”

“He said I confessed to you! He swore it up and down!”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but he was maybe even more drunk than you were,” Jiang Cheng says with a shrug, completely ignoring the fluttery feeling in his chest.

For now.

“And besides, do you really want to believe Wei Wuxian anything he says regarding to confessions? You do remember that he confessed to Lan Wangji by pushing a rabbit into his hands, yelling “He loves you so much, he deserves two dads” and then vanishing for almost three weeks? You’re taking that Wei Wuxian’s advice?” Jiang Cheng asks and he can’t help the small smile when Nie Huaisang groans.

“So you didn’t know?” he asks pitifully and hides his face in his hands when Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “I just confessed to you in the worst way possible,” Nie Huaisang presses out and that actually startles a laugh out of Jiang Cheng.

“Did you even listen to what I just said? Do you really think anything could be worse than Wei Wuxian’s confession?” he asks, because he’s honestly curious, but then Nie Huaisang glares at him and Jiang Cheng goes serious in an instant.

“I know now,” Jiang Cheng says and reaches out to wrap his fingers around Nie Huaisang’s wrists, carefully pulling his hands away from his face. “And it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all, because I’m in love with you, too,” he then says and his voice almost doesn’t shake at all, and the nerves in his stomach feel more like butterflies than fear of rejection and this is better than Jiang Cheng ever dared to hope for.

“You what?” Nie Huaisang asks, finally looking directly at Jiang Cheng again, who smiles slightly at him.

“I luv ya, too, ma bro,” he can’t help but to say and when Nie Huaisang lets out an indignant yell, Jiang Cheng dissolves into laughter.

It’s not long before Nie Huaisang joins him—though he did take a minute or two to slap at Jiang Cheng’s shoulder—and it takes them a really long time to calm down again.

“No, but seriously, A-Cheng,” Nie Huaisang says, once they both caught their breaths.

“Seriously, A-Sang,” Jiang Cheng gives back, can’t help but to tease, just a little bit, but it’s mostly because he’s so relieved.

“Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang whines and Jiang Cheng smiles as he puts his arm around Nie Huaisang and pulls him closer into his side, so that he can press a kiss to his head more easily.

“Alright, enough teasing,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “Seriously. I am in love with you. So no, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang says and then he tilts his head, looks up at Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng absolutely cannot resist.

He would have, before, but now that he knows that it’s okay if he doesn’t, there’s no reason to, anyway. Jiang Cheng leans in, until he can press his lips to Nie Huaisang’s, who makes a soft, contented noise and then kisses right back.

They lose themselves in this, for a while, and when they finally stop, it’s with Jiang Cheng flat on his back on the couch and Nie Huaisang draped all over him.

“Mh, I like this,” Nie Huaisang whispers and presses kisses to every inch of Jiang Cheng’s skin he can reach.

“Me, too,” Jiang Cheng admits and bends slightly so that he can kiss Nie Huaisang’s forehead.

They fall asleep like that, perfectly content, and Jiang Cheng never wants to sleep any other way.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[wh6res]

taeil — part of the my bloody valentine collection.

prompt. soulmates are connected by a red string.

synopsis. taeil thinks the whole system is bullshit. he needs to take matters into his own hands.

warnings. tread cautiously. swearing, mentions of death, blood, mentions of kidnapping, violence, turning a 'lil dubcon near the end, severe stockholm syndrome, manipulation 

disclaimer. a friendly reminder that i do not, under any circumstance, condone or support any acts like this. this is not love and this is not how a normal relationship should be like. the things i write are all fiction and should be treated as such and if you don’t like it, please do not read it and waste your time hating on it. the 9 members of nct 127 do not act like this in real life and shouldn’t act like this in real life. 

thank you to. sexeh sam @yukwonghei, cutie charlie @dundun-baby, and baby rina @greenish-taro for beta-reading!

since he was a kid, he’s fantasized about meeting his soulmate. creating scenario after scenario of how he’d meet ‘the one’ as he had cheesily addressed and had absolutely freaked when he finally saw the red string tied around his right wrist on his 20th birthday—courtesy of the soulmate rules of the universe, where one will finally be able to see the string tied around their body once they’ve come of age. 

for years before he met that other soul who’s destined to be with him, taeil would stare at the red thread lying across the floor, disappearing under the gap of his door and out to the world unknown. he’d be so distracted, so aloof and in his own world as he anticipates the long-awaited day until his professor calls him out—“moon! do yourself a favor and stop daydreaming!”

until his friends snap him out of it—“thinking of them again? really?”

until his parents shake him out of his thoughts—“don’t worry, i bet they’ll love you!”

sometimes he just loved staring at the string, it was something so measly as a bunch of threads intricately woven together yet it held such a symbol in today’s world. call him lovesick or stupid but was it really wrong to feel excited? taeil’s even betting the person on the other side of this string is just as excited as he was, if not more. 

in the man’s eyes, the strings are a symbol of something more than love—it symbolized the person the universe has created especially for him and no one else. 

taeil can’t even imagine a world without these strings. how difficult it would be, to love and invest in someone who will only end up breaking your heart? no, the strings also meant reassurance. 

assurance that he won’t get hurt. 

an assurance of faithfulness. 

he had only been a wide-eyed fresh grad looking for some place to intern when it happened. like a scene right out of a cheesy romance movie—he felt the persistent tugs of the string before finally meeting his soulmate. well, using the word meet to describe the whole ordeal is a huge stretch because it was more of a holy shit, is that my soulmate? rather than a hi, i'm your soulmate, taeil!

he merely saw the back of her poised figure but taeil’s heart felt like it wanted to explode, his emotions a mess and feeling everything to the extremes. nervous. scared. anxiety. happiness. excitement—it was all coming at him like bullets. 

as taeil stared at her back, walking away, johnny kept shoving him forward, encouraging him to finally approach the person he’s been waiting for ever since that soulmate string appeared around his pinky. 

but he couldn’t—not because he was so anxious he’d accidentally vomit the 4-cheese whopper he had for lunch but due to the line of people trailing behind his soulmate like a bunch of baby ducks to their mom. the thought of coming up to his soulmate and introducing himself in front of all those people?

romantic, maybe, but taeil doesn’t have the stomach to do that. 

he remembers how much johnny had wolf whistled, unbelieving of the fact his friend managed to snag the possible heir to the company they’re attending an interview in as his soulmate. 

“lucky little asshole,” johnny muttered. 

taeil had been experiencing the post-effects of seeing his soulmate that he just weakly punched johnny’s arm for the heck of it. he probably didn’t even hear the name his younger friend had called him. taeil’s mind is clouding over, no thoughts in his head but the white polo shirt she wore, sleeves neatly rolled up, and the black pencil skirt hugging her legs and making her ass look so plump. 

focus. he needs to focus on the interview right now or else he won’t even have the chance to work here and officially meet her. everything the interviewer asked passed through his head like paper planes in a classroom, shamelessly asking the woman sitting before him to repeat the question, too busy reveling about how their soulmate story would be the cliché office-love. not that taeil minds, he’d love going to work together—

two weeks later, johnny receives an email of acceptance. taeil doesn’t.

the man nearly threw his laptop away out of sheer disbelief and anger. okay, sure, maybe he could’ve done better in the interview but he graduated with latin honors in college! and from a prestigious college at that. he shouldn’t even be applying as a mere intern with the skill set he had yet he went with it because he’d always dreamed of working there. 

and now knowing his soulmate is possibly someone who holds a high position in the company? everything just kept getting better and better for moon taeil. 

except for that fucking email—pft, or lack thereof. how can they not accept him when he’s more capable than johnny, anyway? for fuck’s sake! taeil doesn’t even ask that guy for rent and he’s so thick-skinned that he stayed up to this day and freeloaded off taeil’s food and shelter. 

the absolute unfairness of the situation makes taeil’s blood reach a fever point. he’s completely lossed it, leading him to spit “get the fuck out!” to the other male occupant in the apartment with eyes glaring and lips pulled into a nasty sneer. 

johnny’s never seen taeil this upset before and decided that he’d be better off abiding by the older man’s wishes instead of contradicting it. 

no. no. no. this can’t be happening. if taeil doesn’t work there, with her, all his sweet fantasies won’t come true and god forbid she ends up falling for another person in the company. 

anyone would be naturally drawn to taeil’s soulmate. in his eyes, she’s a goddess in the flesh. taeil doesn’t even need to see her face, from the few seconds he saw a glimpse of her, her presence and allure in itself is already eye-catching. the way her low ponytail swished from side to side as she walked, her back straight and head held high. 

taeil needs to see her again. maybe if she finds out he’s her soulmate she’ll put a good word in and he’ll get hired. 

yeah. yeah, that’s a good plan. 

“please get out of my office or i’ll call security.”

or not.

“no, wait. but i just said i’m your soulmate!” to further prove his point, he even raises up his pinky and sure enough the other end of the string is tied around hers. the incessant pull is there and if not for her sharp cold eyes anchoring him to the ground, taeil would’ve long been soaring high in cloud nine. 

“and i said i don’t care,” she snaps just as her fingers sneakily pressed a button in her phone. “i have a fiancé. the whole soulmate bullshit doesn’t apply to rich people. so for the fucking last time, get out of my office.”

“but—”

the double doors of the vice president’s office bounces off the walls when two burly guards barge in. dressed in a white long sleeves and those heavy tinted shades of glasses that taeil hates. the two men waste no time in hooking their arms underneath the smaller, frail man as he thrashes against their arms. 

“how can you not care about your soulmate?!” taeil can feel the beginning licks of the flames eating up his whole world as everything comes crashing down before his very eyes. “i’ve been—i’ve been waiting my whole life for you and this is how you treat me?!” 

he doesn’t know what hurts more, the scratch in his throat as he screamed with all his might or the stoic look written on her face as the guards haul him away. 

when johnny heard the news he’d never felt so sorry for his friend. rumors that initially circulated only between the executive board members had spread and trickled down to the common folk on the lower levels. johnny making it a mission to find out, had extracted himself from his usual cheery and extroverted self to blend in with the background. taeil has yet to talk to him after he got kicked out, so asking his friend—or ex-friend?—about what happened is out of the question. 

but like any other breed of rumor, the tale of their vice president’s soulmate barging in her office is ever changing through each mouth that tells the story. johnny doesn't know what to believe in. he’s been trying to put off a meeting with the older man ever since he started crashing in taeyong’s apartment instead. not that taeil himself even tried reaching out to johnny, anyway. 

so why should he, when he doesn’t even know what he did wrong?

but there’s a nagging voice at the back of johnny’s head. his conscience isn’t too loud but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there and it doesn’t need excessive volumes to be heard. all it takes is a second of distraction from the paperwork he does, attention straying from the task at hand, and his body will automatically be wracked with guilt. 

knowing how much taeil had waited for his soulmate to come to his life, knowing how taeil can readily give everything up for his soulmate without even meeting them yet… and now knowing taeil just got the worst ever rejection in his entire life?

johnny can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through. is he really going to choose now out of all times to be petty because taeil kicked him out when he didn’t even bother asking johnny for anything in return during his stay in the apartment?

so when taeil finally contacted him, the sketchyness of what he had asked for flew right over johnny’s head. rational thoughts flying out the window because taeil needs him, he should his friend after everything taeil did for him—

“hey, uhm… i need insider’s information, can you do that for me?”

you shook your head at the long story johnny told you. tuffs of your hair have escaped the intricate pigtails taeil has put your hair up in earlier before he left for work. he’s always hated having your hair messy, but at the moment you couldn’t find yourself to care. 

“i wouldn’t put it past taeil’s original soulmate…” you think aloud, mouth speaking before you can stop yourself as you stare disdainfully at the dulled string wrapped around your pinky—it lost its divine red glow after your captor had cut it off on the same day he whisked you away.

ironic, how easy it was to destroy something so important.

you backtracked, realizing the gravity of what you said before looking up at your captor’s friend. johnny doesn’t look all too impressed and he sighs at the pleading look in your eyes. please, don’t tell him.

“i guess you’re somewhat right…” he gives in, coursing his fingers through his hair. “taeil had been… very passionate on finding his soulmate. but i mean, come on, why’d you even marry someone who isn’t your soulmate? i don’t blame taeil for doing what he did to them.”

johnny ignores the way your breath hitches and your body halts all movement. “what—what did he do?”

“paid them a ‘lil visit after gathering enough resources from someone on the inside,” his face stoic, voice monotone. johnny doesn’t like talking about this one. “he studied their schedules, where they live, where they work, how they get to work, what time they sleep, what time they wake. then just one day…” 

he drags a finger across his neck.

“oh.” 

pathetically, it was all you can say. why did you even bother to ask, anyway? if taeil had been willing to exert force just to keep you in line, then he has the stomach for whatever gruesome deaths he subjected his soulmate and her fiancé to.

you nibble on your lip as you stare at the knot of thread lying on the floor. you don’t see the need to wear the collar wrapped around your neck when that knot is good enough a reminder that you’re now bound to taeil. that he’s fucked around with your destiny and decided he’ll have you out of all people. 

its hard to believe taeil once almost worshipped the soulmate bonds, not when all he’s ever done is look at it like it's the bane of his existence and calling it a curse to humanity.

“do you know that you’re—”

“that i’m the 5th? yeah, i know. i saw all the knots on his string.” you defeatedly say, a vivid image of the knots spaced across his string like tophies. “taeil doesn’t like me staring at them, though.”

and you yourself didn’t like staring at them. you never thought something so small and insignificant can mean something so sinister. the knots on his string acting like a body counter. will he get sick of you one day and you’ll just be another knot on his string?

“you’re nothing like his soulmate—i’m not insulting you or anything, i’m just saying the truth. the past girls all had at least something in common with her but you… nothing. not even your hair shines like hers, and that’s even after taeil has taken good care of you.”

this doesn’t soothe you in any sense and before you can open your mouth to retort, the familiar beeping of the code getting punched into the keypad cuts you off. 

taeil stood in the entrance as he shrugged off his coat, his polo crinkled at some areas and pieces of his hair had escaped that slicked back hairstyle. 

“you’re home early…”

your blood runs cold when he doesn’t even offer you a glance, skipping you out and immediately addressing johnny. “i thought i told you to go home already after delivering the food.”

you admire the way johnny’s eyes roll. must be nice not to be so fucking terrified of the man. “yeah, but your current sweetheart here was lonely and practically begged me to stay.”

the sting of betrayal never grows familiar. 

“i never said anything—”

“you did, have you forgotten already?” you hate the show of lust clouding in johnny’s eyes as he stares you down. this can’t be happening right now. “have you forgotten how you even came unto me? whined like a bitch about how taeil doesn’t even fuck you hard enough and you had to fake orgasms all the time?”

“that’s not true!” your frustration manifests as tears. they sting your eyes as you look at taeil. “i never said anything—”

but you pale when you realize they’re not even listening to you, the two guys fist bumping in the foyer and exchanging a few words like “thanks for telling me,” and “no problem, bro,” were heard before taeil is heatedly storming up to you. 

you feel numb as you look over taeil’s shoulder at the little smirk johnny shoots at you. have fun, he mouths mockingly and then he’s out the door, extracting himself from the mess he created. 

when taeil wordlessly drags you across the hallway, you thought he’ll make a right turn and into the bedroom but imagine your surprise when he pulls you instead towards the bathroom. he wastes no time throwing you against the cold hard tiles as he tells you only one thing. 

“strip.”

“taeil…”

“you don’t want to be replaced.” it doesn’t take a genius to know taeil had hit the nail on the head. all your movements come to a halt, looking up at him with an unreadable look in your face. “that’s your fear, isn’t it? that if you die, if i kill you, i can just look for another girl and you’d be forgotten at the snap of a finger. i’m right, aren’t i?”

you gulp, his words stinging even if he didn’t mean for it to sting. or maybe he did. taeil takes a step closer to you, studying your appearance as he brings a hand up to caress your tear-stained face. 

spots in your clothes are wet due to the splashes of water on the tiles, and the clips in your hair that once looked neat and perfect are now hanging in disarray, falling off in some places. 

“i’m sorry,” you sob. “i’m sorry, john—johnny’s lying. you—you have to—to believe me. please don’t replace me… i’ll be good, i promise…”

truly, there’s no better motivator than fear. and there’s no better way to mess with someone’s head than using their weakness against them. 

“you say you’ll be good but i tell you to strip and you couldn’t even do that?” 

taeil could never imagine replacing you. he finds it stupid, whatever that brought in this fear of yours, but it doesn’t mean he won’t be extracting every little bit he can get out of this.

he can only stare in awe when you start wiggling your way out of your pretty pink clothes, eyes drinking every bit of your skin slowly being exposed to him as he reaches behind you to open the running water, slowly filling the bathtub.

“get in,” he instructs and you waste no time. 

as he sheds his own clothes, he can practically feel the want radiating off you. he knew johnny’s lying, but he humored his friend still. there’s no way you can fake the noises you always make. plus, taeil has seen one too many times the cum dribbling out of your cunt after he’s fucked you into oblivion. he scoffs. harder? then he’ll be breaking you in half already. 

taeil swats your hand away as it reaches for his cock and he hopes you don’t notice it twitching before you when you let out a cute whine. 

“you want it?”

you nod urgently, salavitating at the thought. taeil was more of a giver to his partners, it’s rare for him to take his pleasure first but you’re far from complaining. 

“oh, i don’t know…” he pouts, fisting himself in front of you before giving it a few testing pumps. he swallows the hiss threatening to spill from his lips, chuckling instead at the intense look in your eyes as it follows his hand movements. 

you were by far the most compliant girl he’s ever had, someone who’d rather stay than escape. his methods of forcing someone into submission worked extremely well with you. so really, how can he let go of his glorified little pet?

“you’re not lying to me, aren’t you? i got hurt, you know, with what johnny said… i guess i was doing something wrong.”

“no!” your reply is immediate. “no, that’s not true—”

hands wrap around your throat like a vice. “how about you prove it to me, love? tell me everything i want to hear.”

now, this is easy. you’ve practically memorized everything you need to tell him to boost his ego. it doesn’t even take much of an effort. 

“i love your cock so much that my body hurts. it hits all the right places inside of me and i will never even dream of wanting another man because they won’t be able to fuck me like you do.”

you feel giddy when he smiles that satisfied smile, your toes curling in anticipation as he leans in to give his obedient darling a kiss—

until he shoves your face down the water. 

it doesn’t take much effort to wrestle your limbs down and insert himself into you, groaning at the feeling of your lush and moist walls sucking him in. you’re always so damn wet when he fucks you, oh how much he loves it. loves how tighter your cunt wraps around him as you squirm and fight him to get to the surface of the half-filled tub.

it was only after a few deep thrusts did he relent and pull you up, the few hair clips in your hair floating in the water around as you gasp greedy amounts of air. one look at taeil’s face pulled in ecstasy is enough for you to know it was well worth it.

maybe being rejected by his soulmate was a blessing in disguise. maybe the disobedience of every girl he took before you had been deliberately well-planned. or else he’d never would’ve met you. 

taeil was right. all the soulmate and soulmark shit is utterly useless and stupid. because you are by no means his soulmate, but fuck he’ll never let you go.

not when your destiny is to lay there underneath him, taking whatever it is that he gave you like a good little whore. 

[becausethathappens]

i love the way you write. can you tell me something nice to calm my nerves? my day has been awful and the way you write takes me out of it, instantly. *currently rereading everything you've written on ao3 ignore the kudos that might give this away 👀*

anonnnnnnnnn. 🤚💓

something nice: rhett and link have been together longer than i’ve been alive. (i’m more than three decades old. 😩)

and something short for you, because this made me blush:

-———————-

needs no conversation

1k - Rhett and Link duet for the first time.

songs referenced: yesterday’s wine / islands in the stream

-

Over a year passes after Rhett's voice dropped before he starts using it as regularly as he used to. More than once, trying to sing along to whatever's on the radio and having his voice crack and squeak has led to teasing from friends and family alike. He's gun-shy to hold a tune until he's sure the baritone that his register has changed to is permanent.

Poor Link's voice has only gotten higher, since around the same time, but the elasticity and charm of it suits his personality.

It's years into being grumpy, monosyllabic teenagers before they feel happy enough to sing aloud, let alone together.

One night, while they’re stuffed with pizza and sketching tree forts (they're sick of lugging all their things to the river, every time they swim and want a place to store belongings in the woods, closer by), Rhett finds himself singing along to Yesterday's Wine with a full-throated joy that makes Link's insides swirl. It's certainly the most he's used his voice, confidently, since it's settled on this octave.

Rhett's voice sounds good. Objectively good and better than it's maybe ever sounded.

Link, shyly, joins in because he's sure the longer he sits and listens, it'll become a problem for his head or his heart or both. It unsettles him.

He's not more than three seconds into the chorus, singing along with George Jones' section, when he notices that Rhett's set aside his writing instruments, as well, and is looking over at him.

In near the same way that Link was looking at him.

It's then, right that second, Link hears it.

The natural harmony they've stumbled across.

The song's over too soon. 

With busy eyes and unsteady hands, Link scrambles over to the tape deck to switch out to another song. The next up was a solo b-side from Merle's early work that won’t showcase what he’s just heard.

He picks the first tape with a duet he can find.

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.

It's just to prove a theory, the song choice. Selected because Link knows it has two distinct singers. Not much thought going into it beyond that.

He pops the tape into the player and hits play. He feigns looking down at his drawings for a moment, like he's merely changing the background music and returning to them.

But after a few seconds, he can't withhold his interest and looks up. 

Rhett's still staring right at him.

And he doesn’t seem to have stopped this whole time.

As the music fades in softly, his eyes are soft and doe-y. 

To Link’s surprise, he starts to sing, clearly begging Link, wordlessly, to do the same in the next verse.

"Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb," Rhett begins.

Link stares at him, takes it in. He lets his ears adjust and come to grips with the fact that Rhett's voice really sounds that smooth and adult, overpowering Kenny's easily in the quiet room with the volume purposefully low.

They both know the lyrics.

"I was soft inside There was something going on," Rhett sings.

Link’s smile breaks wide, an outburst of shocked elation that Rhett sound only improves. He really sounds this good. Professionally good.

An idea bubbles into his mind, one he'd never dare to think if not so immersed in the candied daydream of hearing his friend's beautiful voice echo around the small bedroom for what feels like the first time. He's picturing Rhett singing this for an audience, his unused hand holding a microphone, as Link watches Rhett drum a steady one-two rhythm along with the beat into his thigh.

Link does the same and then immediately jumps in on the first harmony.

"You do something to me that I can't explain Hold me closer and I feel no pain Every beat of my heart We got something going on," they sing together.

Link's eyes dart back and forth, feeling zapped by the electricity of how their voices sound paired together. 

It’s not just Rhett.

He takes in that, to his ears, his voice sounds much deeper than it has in years. When he sings with Rhett, trying to match the key change, it feels like Rhett is sharing some of his baritone. His own lifts up, as though to meet Link halfway.

Their words tumble out over each other in a kind of velvety sophistication that makes Link picture them both on a stage performing. It makes Link's heart leap, how natural it would seem, were it to be like this.

"Tender love is blind It requires a dedication," Rhett belts out, getting into it.

Link grins and nods. They could lead the choir at church.

They both sing, "All this love we feel needs no conversation We ride it together, ah ha."

Rhett wiggles back and forth to the beat, Link joins in.

"Making love with each other, ah ha," they sing, blushing. 

Rhett laughs, inaudibly, in respect to the music, at how silly that line sounds, when sung by the two of them. 

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they harmonize.

Link's eyes shine. They could start a band.

Link sings, "I can't live without you if the love was gone Everything is nothing if you got no one And you did walk in the night Slowly losing sight of the real thing."

Rhett's eyes are also shining back. Link is already sure that he'll agree to the idea. He hardly ever says no, in Link's experience. 

They sing, "But that won't happen to us and we got no doubt Too deep in love and we got no way out And the message is clear This could be the year for the real thing."

He pictures their names on a marquee.

Link closes his eyes and sings, "No more will you cry Baby, I will hurt you never."

He imagines their album cover, posed like Lionel or Merle.

Rhett joins him, "We start and end as one In love forever We can ride it together, ah ha Making love with each other, ah ha."

Link nods along, lost in fantasy.

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they recite in tandem.

Link opens his eyes again and is struck by the fact that Rhett's eyes are also open or have still never closed. 

Once again the ZING of amazement bolts through him at how strongly the affection and pride on Rhett's face beams at him.

They sing, "Sail away Oh come sail away with me."

The chorus repeats twice, both of them staring like that the whole time, and Link fights the urge to reach out and join their hands as if in prayer. He's seen duets do that before, like Sonny and Cher. He understands the impulse, now. He wants nothing more than to chase this connected, harmonious feeling, now and perhaps the rest of his life.

Entertain himself and others, alongside Rhett.

As the song finishes, they sing, "Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between."

This is their ticket out.

A solo track ticks on next and the spell is somewhat broken. 

Link leans back and laughs, covering his mouth with both palms at once. 

Rhett settles, blushing, and hides his mouth with the back of his right hand. It also masks the smile growing fast at Link’s reaction. 

It feels like they've just discovered a secret too great for them to know.

"That was so good," Link tells him, honest.

"I 's just thinkin' that," Rhett agrees, chuckling. "Don't think I've ever been able to hold an melody like that. You hit the high notes dead-on."

"And that was some professional-grade crooning," Link assures him.

"Oh, don't know about that," Rhett dismisses.

"No, I'm serious. We should start a band," Link says, earnestly.

Rhett watches him for a few seconds, trying to judge whether or not he's serious. When he sees no hesitation, finally, he smirks.

"Okay," Rhett agrees, looking thrilled.

Link grins back at him.

"It's like it was written about us, too. We've got an island in a stream. If you could count the river as one. How’s that for song choice?" Link asks, playfully.

Rhett frowns. "That's... not what the song - it's about - " Rhett looks at Link funny, then continues, "It's not about that. D'you even listen to the lyrics?"

"No," Link answers, easy and truthful.

"You really wanna start a band with me?” Rhett’s eyes fall and he scratches the back of his head. “If you got distracted while I was singing?"

"Rhett, I got distracted by your singing," Link explains.

Rhett looks down. "Oh."

There's a long pause.

"Well, I got distracted by you, too."

Link's eyes widen.

"By your singing," Rhett adds, hastily.

Link rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Unsure how else Rhett would've expected him to take that.

The blush that warms his chest also brings with it a smile.

He rewinds the tape so they can begin again.

[after-witch]

So Far (Yandere Hawks x Reader)

Title: So Far

Synopsis: Follow up to "So Close." Hawks realizes that in order to build you up as the perfect partner, you've got to be broken down first.

Word Count: 2163

Notes: yandere, choking, violence, food deprivation, malnourishment 

You wish you could stand up and properly stretch. But the unassuming crawl space that Keigo unceremoniously pushed you into after bringing you "home" was too small for that. The ceiling was low, and 

You pull your knees up against your chest and wince at the pain in your thighs and legs. The floor was concrete, and the drop had hurt--enough to bruise, at least, but the dim lighting from a single, small window didn't really provide an opportunity for you to check.

You flinch when you hear the half-sized door open, and not a moment later does Keigo enter, ducking his head  to avoid hitting the ceiling. He has a tray with him, which he sets down in front of you. A glass of water and leftovers from the other night, still streaming from the microwave.

Your stomach seems to growl on cue, but you fight the urge to reach for the food and instead stay still. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of feeding you right now.

Keigo sighs, as if sensing your defiance, and crouches down until he's sitting on his heels. He stares at you. You stare back, hoping your gaze looks braver than you feel.

"This is my fault," he says, finally. Low and sad, you can see his lips curling downward in a frown. "I shouldn't have done this."

Your heart feels like it skips a beat. Could… could he be letting you go? Did he finally realize how fucked up this all was?

He regards you for a moment, nearly grimacing. "I expected you to adapt to your new life all on your own." He shakes his head. "It's not easy dating a hero, huh?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded beyond belief.

You can't stop yourself from spluttering out the words, "Are you crazy?"

Keigo ignores your little outburst. "Nope," he says, his voice taking on a slight drawl. "It’s not easy dating a hero at all. Not easy being taken care of, especially when I know you're not used to it."

It's then that his infuriating grin finds its way back onto his lips. A grin you've come to hate so, so much. "I understand now--it wasn't fair to expect you to get used to this all on your own. But don't worry babe, I'll help you."

You can’t take it. Feelings of helpless and anger and physical soreness bubble over, and you crack.

"Fuck you fuck you fuck you! Just leave me alone!"

You don't stop to think before your hands grab the glass of water on the tray and you throw it directly at Keigo's head. He jerks at the sudden movement, and the glass hits his shoulder, shattering on impact. You barely hear the cracking glass when you lift the tray and chuck it just as hard, dumping the contents of the leftovers all over yourself and Keigo in the process. This time, he's prepared, and the tray is easily smacked to the side. It collides with the concrete wall.

And so do you, in an instant. Keigo is kneeling on what must be glass with his hands around your throat, pressing so hard that you can't breath. You hear rushing in your ears and wonder if this is finally it. His breathing is rough and erratic as he presses you against the concrete. You can't speak, you're in so much pain, you can't even breathe. Your hands claw at his own, instinctive and animalistic, and you must have made some sort of cry because Keigo suddenly lets go.

You take in ragged breaths and hold your bruising neck with your shaking fingers. You suck in air and shakily glance at Keigo, who has scooted backwards to press his own back against the other side of the room. He looks shocked. Afraid. He says nothing, taking deep breaths himself, before crawling into the doorway so he can stand up. You see his look turn impassive and neutral and dark before he mutters: "Fine. Fine. Fuck me? I'll leave you alone."

The door slams with a terrifying finality, and you listen helplessly to the sounds of multiple locks clicking into place.

--

You can't remember the last time you felt full. Or even close to it. Food, hunger, your stomach. The preoccupying hunger that you feel at least gives you something to do in your current situation.

Since that day, Keigo has been more or less true to his word. He's left you alone. He opens the door in the morning--you think it's the morning, it has become hard to tell the time with no lighting but what seeps through the window. Then he sets down a thin, plastic tray and nudges it with his foot. He lifts up your waste bucket and doesn’t so much as glance at you (even when, like you do lately, you try to talk to him) before turning around and shutting the door. Then come the locks. Click, click, click, click. Four locks.

Your meals are always the same. A glass of water in a plastic cup--safe, safe for Keigo and probably safer for you, lest you get any ideas of what to do with glass. Plain rice in a small plastic bowl. He stopped giving you chopsticks when he caught you trying to use one in the doorknob lock. Now you have a plastic spoon. It's blue.

You used to scarf down the rice, desperate and hungry, but now you’re more careful. Because sometimes breakfast (if it’s morning, you think, but maybe it’s actually lunch?) is the only meal that Keigo gives you for the day. You used to think he wasn’t feeding you much on purpose. Now you realize that the truth is much scarier: he’s forgetting about you, tucked into this little crawl space room with nothing in it but misery. 

Or maybe, you think. Maybe he’s so busy with hero work that he doesn’t have time to be constantly dipping into your little room with meals. If you weren’t in this little room, if you were free to roam the house and the kitchen, you could feed yourself when he’s not here, like you used to.

But you’re not out there, so today, like other days, you pick up a half spoonful of rice with your trusty blue spoon and carefully set it in your mouth. You lick the granules with purpose and let them rest on your tongue. One, two, three, four. Four seconds. Then you swallow.

That’s enough for now. You decide to stretch your rice out as long as possible, because you think today might be a scarce meal day. You haven’t heard Keigo near the door since the morning, so you assume he’s already gone to work. You hope he brings back your bucket tonight, because you really do have to go. If he does, you decide, you’re going to ask him if he could maybe bring you two bowls of rice tomorrow--just in case he gets so busy he can’t feed you again.

Over the course of the day, you eat the rest of your bowl, half-spoonful by half-spoonful. It staves away the sharpest of your hunger pains, but it’s never enough to stop them. You distract yourself with stories that you like to tell while tapping your finger on something--your knee, the wall, the floor. Sometimes your glass. After some time, you look up and realize the light has gotten even dimmer, and oh--it must be night time. 

You like to fall asleep before it gets truly pitch black, so you curl up on your side and try to cradle your head in your arms. You wish the floor wasn’t so cold. You wish you had a night light for when it was pitch dark inside the room. You also wish, vainly, for a pillow.

Then next morning, when you wake up, your bucket is back. Your meal of water and rice is waiting for you. Keigo didn’t even let you see him, this time…

--

You carefully pluck a single cold grain of rice from your bowl and line it up against the wall with the others. You wanted to keep track of time, but Keigo had ignored you when you asked for a pencil or paper or even a calendar. So you made due.  

By the time you get to 40 grains (give or take how many days it had been before you started counting) it feels wasteful. Sometimes you daydream about scooping them up and gobbling them down. 

Some mornings, you see Keigo. Some mornings, you don’t. You find yourself trying to wake up early so you can at least try to catch his attention. But even when  you do, matter what you say--a feeble good morning, a quiet question, even just saying his name--he doesn’t do more than glance at you and move on.

You really are nothing, now. You dig through your rice, but even your ritual of one-two-three-four feels hollow today.

You press your back against the wall and slowly stretch our your knees. They’re always sore, but stretching helps. And it gives you something to do. You make a slow game of bringing one knee to your stomach, stretching it back down, and repeating with the other. One, two, three, four...

Evening seems to come quicker than usual today. Doing nothing feels exhausting, and you’re glad that you will at least fall asleep quickly.

You push your tray closer to the door (Maybe he’ll come in while you sleep, and you don’t want to make him have to come too far inside) and decide to get ready for bed. Your bedtime ritual is much simpler than it was when you were living in the rest of the house. Then, Keigo would insist on showering with you and brushing your hair and helping you get into pajamas and--other things, too. The bed was soft and you smelled so nice and after everything, Keigo would hold you until you fell asleep.

Now you don’t have a shower or a brush or pajamas, or anything but yourself, so you dip your fingers into a thin film of water that remains in  your cup and scrub them around your face. Then you smooth down your hair and curl up on your side. The concrete is hard and cold, but it’s all you have. When you pull your shirt down over your knees, it almost feels like a nightgown. As long as you close your eyes. You cradle your knees with your arms and try to ignore how thin and frail they feel.

Everything about you, in fact, feels thin and frail. You miss food. You miss the bed. You miss nightgowns and books and the kitchen. You miss--you miss him. The realization makes your stomach twist, or maybe that’s the hunger, and in any case you suppress the notion down. Can’t afford to throw up, when you are barely getting fed. You go to sleep with tears rolling on your cheeks, cleaning away more grime than your fingers ever could.

You’re asleep, dreaming lightly and dimly, when you hear the locks begin their song. Click, click, click, click.

You lick your chapped lips and sit up, too quickly, and the light from the room behind him makes Keigo’s silhouette all the starker as you fight mild dizziness. He has your bucket in his left hand.

You can see him flinch, just slightly, when he realizes you’re awake. He sets the bucket down. 

He stares at you. You stare at him. 

“K..Keigo,” you say. Your voice feels like a croak. His face turns impassive again. Oh, oh no, you think. It’s another morning of Keigo coming and going and leaving you all alone with nothing but concrete and rice and the wretched hollowness inside.

Without warning, you begin to cry. Full, heaving sobs wrack your body as you begin to spill out words in between helpless cries that come from deep within your chest.

“I’m sorry--I’m sorry.” You can no longer see, tears stinging and painful.  Your shoulders ache from the wrenching of your sobs. “I didn’t mean it, please don’t leave me alone anymore. I miss food, I miss the house, I miss---” You look up at him, and his eyes widen in shock as you whisper hoarsely: “I miss you, Keigo.”

In an instant, he’s swooped down to cradle you in his arms. He’s so warm. He smells like sweat and smoke. You bury your head against his shoulder and continue to weep. Your frail hands cling to his jacket so tightly that your skin begins to hurt--you don’t want him to go away.

“I missed you too, (Y/N).” His voice is so soft and gentle and you can’t remember why you hated it so much. “C’mon,” he says, gently leading you out of the room and back into the warm light of the house. Your knees ache with the freedom of standing. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.” 

[ayatosmlktea]

Late Night Devil

A/N: This is my fic for the Citrus Dome Server collab! I’ve spent many hours crying over it, I hope you enjoy it! Make sure you check out the other pieces of the collab too because they’re written by amazing writers!! @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​

Read the other fics for the collab here!

Word count: 5.7k

Thank you @suckersuki for saving my ass and making this beautiful banner 💕

 Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods. But you never expected one to answer…

Warm summer breeze tickled at your face, your hair flowing freely in front of your face making your nose itch. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you tune out the conversation your parents are having in favour of focusing your attention on the pavement ahead of you. Your eyes stinging and heavy from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting since the breakup. A bitter aftertaste stings the back of your throat as the events replay in your mind. The breakup had been sudden, although you couldn’t say you were completely caught off guard. Regardless of how underwhelming it had been, the way you’d been humiliated so carelessly had hurt your pride.

As you approached closer to the temple, a strange feeling of anxiety crawled into your stomach and pushed down heavily on your chest. It was unlike you to feel such unease coming to the temple of the gods, normally the divine power helped bring a sense of peace into your life.

Today was another story it seemed, maybe it was the fact that your emotions were all over the place and the pain and hate you felt slowly bubbling up over being cheated on were muddling with the rest of your feelings. Warm orange rays of sunlight slowly begin to peek over the tops of the mountains, shrouding the forest in a comforting glow. The sky is light with pinks and oranges, the dark blue night sky slowly fading away as a light cerulean takes over. It was barely six in the morning, but your family had always been adamant about being early to bring your offerings for the gods.

Nature seemed to come alive around you, birds chirping, flowers blooming with lush petals and vibrant colours. It was the summer solstice, a period of time where the gods’ presence was closer to the human world than any other time of the year.

However, despite it being such a juvinating day you were feeling anything but jovial. The basket resting on your arm was nearly filled to the brim with seasonal fruits that you had picked earlier that morning. The better quality the offerings and the more abundant they were signified a better season and prosperity blessed upon your family from the gods.

“Y/n what’s the matter?” your mother asks, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Nothing, just tired” you mumble hoping that she’ll stop questioning you before it starts.

“Well make sure you don’t walk into the temple like that, we can’t afford to attract any negativity this season” she scolds, something you’ve heard since becoming your family’s link between your world and the God’s.

When it had happened you were instantly filled with dread, the wellbeing of your entire family rested on your shoulders. Four times a year you needed to make sure that your emotions were in check, a single negative thought even for a fleeting second would have an impact on your family’s future until the next solstice. The gods were very picky when it came to their offerings, being the so-called spokesperson for your family meant that for the entire time you were in the temple you couldn’t think of anything else.

One minor distraction was enough to send a year’s worth of bad luck onto your family. You had never once messed up in the ten years that you’d been doing this, but it never stopped your parents from reminding you incessantly that you needed to be in the right state of mind. It was annoying, but you’d gotten used to it over the years.

Today however, you had little patience with your mother. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes you give her a tight smile and nod, returning your gaze ahead of you.

The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky, light pinks and oranges gradually fading into a light blue. The ruby red pillars of the temple gradually came into view, peeking through thick tangled branches.

The closer you got to the temple, the heavier the lump of dread feels in your stomach. It’s so close to swallowing you whole that you can feel the bile creeping up your throat. Sticky black fingers made of tar wrap themselves around your throat. The second you step foot onto temple grounds you can feel the atmosphere change.

A harsh warm breeze whips against your hair, running along your exposed arms and face. Almost like a warning, you need to get yourself together. Shoving down every negative feeling that’s made itself home in your body you take a few deep breaths and focus on calming your emotions.

From the corner of your eye you can see your parents give you a wary side eye but you flash them a reassuring smile. You can do this. You’ve done it a thousand times before, one stupid break up will not be the reason you bring bad fortune upon your family. You’d never hear the end of it.

As you walk up the narrow winding steps to the shrine you can feel the spiritual energy radiating from the soles of your feet up to the top of your head. The concerned gazes of your parents burn holes into the back of your head. Not only were you more in tune with the realm of the gods during the solstice, but the energy of the earth as a whole intensified as well.

Deep breaths in and out. Focus on the wicker handle of the basket digging uncomfortably into your arm. Anything to distract your mind from thinking about finding Bakugou kissing Cami-Nope.

Your grip around the basket handle tightens, small pieces of it begin to poke at your skin giving you something to focus your attention on.

When you finally reach the top of the stairs, your rage has finally simmered down enough to allow you to ease your death grip on the basket.

A heavy hand on your shoulder draws your attention up to your father’s solemn eyes. You were usually good at hiding your emotions, the fact that everything you were feeling now was on full display was irritating you to no end.

“I’m fine!” You reassure them once more but you can tell they don’t believe you. You can’t blame them, you haven’t told them anything about your relationship ending and you don’t intend to either. You knew you were acting differently these last few weeks but you didn’t need anyone else knowing about the humiliating way things had ended between you and Bakugou.

Your parents accompany you into the temple but being the spiritual link for your family, only you are allowed to enter the inner rooms which host the shrines for each god. In the beginning it had been exciting to you, but now years later it was beginning to feel like a chore. It didn’t matter where you were, four times a year you needed to come home and pray for good health and wealth and prosperity. You pass by Izuku on your way into the room, his presence was usually calming but the sight of him now only served to remind you of Bakugou. Forcing a polite smile on your lips you give him a small nod of acknowledgement before continuing on your way towards the altars.

The prayers had gone well, at least you had assumed they had. You had no problems with the gods, other than Enji who usually gave you a hard time regardless of how good of a mood you were in so you didn’t take it personally.  Grabbing the empty basket you exit the room and make your way outside. Finally able to let your emotions pour out once more, you find yourself becoming fixated on the onslaught of hatred, revenge, and hurt that were lying dormant under your skin. You wanted revenge, you wanted to humiliate him the way he’d hurt you. 

You didn’t understand why he’d done it, you had been under the false presumption that your relationship was fine. If it hadn’t been for Bakugou cheating on you in your own apartment, with the girl he’d told you so many times NOT to worry about you might have felt less bitter. But there was nothing that could quench your desire for revenge other than making him regret what he’d done to you in a way that would stick with him forever.

Blinking out of your daydream you realize that you’ve wandered into a part of the temple that you’ve never been to before. It’s darker and the energy feels heavier compared to the other sections. Your feet seem to move of their own will as you approach a door that looks as though it hasn’t been opened in ages. You expect to find it locked, but much to your surprise the handle twists open with no resistance. 

The room is even darker than the hallway, a small window being the only source of light casting a gloomy look throughout it. Along the back wall of the room is what you think is another altar, except as you approach it it’s covered in dust. It’s apparent to you that no one has been in this room for a long time. Cautiously you wipe away the dust covering the plaque on the front of the altar.

“God of vengeance, Dabi” The second the name leaves you lips the door slams shut making you jump in shock. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and every nerve is screaming at you to run.

“Lost, dollface?” A voice you’ve never heard before but feels so strangely familiar at the same time makes you nearly jump out of your skin and whip around to face them. You had been facing the door ready to walk out, no one had been in here before you so where did the man standing in front of you come from.

You’re suddenly so dumbstruck that you can’t even formulate a response, your eyes are too busy taking in his unusual appearance. Spiky black hair, the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen with patches of his skin on most of his face and neck that are stapled together. Your eyes travel down farther and notice that not only is his face badly burnt but a significant portion of his body is.

The energy you’re getting from his presence is overwhelmingly not human, but it’s not demonic either. At least, you’re fairly sure it isn’t. Meaning that the person standing before you was a god.

“Don’t look so shocked, you did wander in here didn’t you? What were you expecting to find?”

“Who are you?” The question feels stupid of you to ask.

“Shouldn’t you know that already?” Your mind is racing with a hundred different things to say, but none of them make it past your lips. Something about him is different from the rest of the gods you’ve met before. There’s what feels like an underlying evil in him despite being a god.

“What’s on your mind doll? It’s obviously important enough to be thinking about while you’re in the presence of a God” His coy smile and low voice laced with honey and temptation make you want to answer him even though you know you shouldn’t.

“Why do you care?” Raising an eyebrow questioningly, a tiny voice at the back of your mind begins to scold you for speaking to a god so casually. Not only could he clearly incinerate you in a flash but he could also influence the fate of your family’s fortune. But you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit. For the last decade of your life you’ve spent it dedicated to bringing your parents good fortune only to end up with your own misfortune. You knew you were pushing it, you knew that one slip up and you’d never hear the end of it. But the rage bubbling it’s way slowly up your body almost feels like it’s growing stronger in his presence.

“I always care about pretty little things who wander up to MY altar with such negative energy.”

“Your altar? Funny how I’ve never heard of you before. Can’t be that important if your altar is blocked off from the rest of the temple. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving” Turning on your heel you start walking back to the door hoping that you’ll be able to leave before digging yourself a deeper grave.

“Now now, is that any way to speak to a god?” Within seconds the atmosphere changes, andBlue flames sprout up around you blocking you from leaving the room. They’re hotter than any fire you’ve ever been near before, you don’t even need to be standing directly in front of them to feel how much heat they radiate. Dabi’s eyes are glowing with such an intense gaze of lust in your eyes that it works its way under your skin.

It doesn’t take you long to understand why his shrine had been locked off from the rest of the altars. Dabi might have been a god but there was nothing heavenly about him. Gradually the smell of smoke began to fill your lungs in an unpleasant way despite nothing in the room burning.

“Wanna try that again? Maybe a little nicer this time huh?” Dabi’s body was right behind yours, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. Hot breath hitting against you making you shiver involuntarily.

“Don’t you have better things to worry about?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re standing in front of the god of vengeance. The one god who can help you work out this little problem you’ve got going on”

“Why do you want to help me so bad?”

“I like to think of myself as a generous god” He jokes but you can already tell that Dabi is anything but  generous. His expression changes when you don’t lighten up at his attempt to change the mood of the conversation.

“What can I say, I love a good revenge story. It doesn’t hurt if they’re not bad to look at either”

Sighing, you begin to mull over his proposal in your mind. You can’t deny that it would be just a little satisfying to have a god on your side. It was petty, the dumbest kind of revenge that anyone could plot for but the images of Bakugou making out with someone who wasn’t you in your own bed no less were branded permanently in your mind. Maybe summoning Dabi was a blessing in disguise, besides, he was a god after all. It wasn’t like he was going to ask you for your soul.

“Fine, what do you want in exchange?”You figured the most he probably wanted was a bigger offering next season.

“We’ll discuss that when it comes up”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·

You weren’t even sure why Dabi had decided to waste his time in the human world. In his own words he was bored of being in his own realm and figured that sticking around your “depressed ass” would give him some form of entertainment.

Thankfully you didn’t live with your parents anymore, you weren’t sure how you were going to explain having a random man they’d never seen before stuck to your side twenty-four hours a day. In all honesty, you didn’t know why he’d been so interested in helping you get revenge on Bakugou but there wasn’t any need for you to question it. He was the god of vengeance after all.

Even if this did seem like a small and petty reason to help you out.

The first week you had been so caught in helping Dabi adjust to human life that you’d almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. You would have thought that for a god he’d have been at least somewhat competent at learning how to work something as simple as the shower.

You definitely hadn’t expected him to be standing in the bathtub naked, with the cockiest smirk on his face while you yelped and covered your eyes, willing with every fiber in your body for your heart to stop racing.

“Could you at least cover yourself before calling me in here?” You complain, still shielding your eyes as you walk over to turn on the shower for him.

“Can’t you just use your godly powers or whatever to just do it for you?” Mumbling mostly to yourself, you adjust the temperature before hurrying out of the bathroom, trying not to think about his dick and how badly you would’ve gotten on your knees for him if he had asked.

“That would be a waste of my godly powers then, don’t you think?” 

You don’t even need to look at him to see the cocky smirk on his face. Slamming the bathroom door shut behind you, you rush back into your room hoping that he at least possesses enough common sense to know how to turn the shower off.

The following days go by with Dabi finding a new way to tease you, whether it was walking around the house shirtless or him walking in on you taking a shower. To say that you were up to your neck with the desire to have him fuck you senseless one minute and wanting to strangle the life out of him the next was an understatement. But according to Dabi, once you had both verbally agreed on the deal you’d made he couldn’t leave until the job was finished. 

Meaning, that until you got revenge on Bakugou, Dabi was going to be sticking around. Throughout the time that you spent together, Dabi had told you more than you thought you would get out of him. How he’d gotten his scars, why his altar had been separated from the others. As much as people needed vengeance, praying to a god as powerful as Dabi meant that in the wrong hands his powers could very well cause irreversible damage. Not that he had a problem with it, but the priests had decided long ago that his altar needed to be kept away from vengeful hearts. 

Until you came along of course, he’d immediately noticed your energy the second you had stepped foot in the temple. No matter how hard you tried to conceal your feelings, Dabi had noticed them and led you straight to his altar. You had been a little mad at first, having been so easily caught trapped but the more you thought about it the less you cared. Besides, you were beginning to enjoy his company around your empty apartment. 

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·

Finally, after almost three weeks of putting up with him,  the opportunity to get back at Bakugou presented itself.

“Have you ever been clubbing?” you ask over breakfast that morning.

Leaning back in his chair, Dabi’s curious eyes meet yours.

“What are you planning?”

“Bakugou’s best friend is having his birthday party at this club and he’s probably going to be there too. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I can find someone else if you’re uncom-”

“I’m not uncomfortable. That’s what I’m here for right?”

“Well I was just asking since you’re like, what, a couple centuries old? It might be weird to go dancing with all these young people” you flash him an innocent smile at his unamused glare.

“Last time I checked your eyes were practically begging me to fuck you” He retorts making you choke on your coffee. Smirking in victory he leans in closely to whisper in your ear.

“Try harder next time doll”  

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·

The rest of the day flew by and the closer the time got for you to leave, the more anxious you felt. You couldn’t help but start to doubt everything about your plan for revenge. For all you knew, Bakugou could care less about who you were hooking up with as long as he was getting his dick wet.

“Are you doubting me?” Dabi teased as you make your way to the club.

“No, but you don’t know what he’s like.”

You didn’t need to wait long to get in the club, your tight black dress and Dabi’s “charm” were more than enough to allow you to skip the line and get in. His hand never leaves your lower back  as you make your way through the crowd and towards the bar. The two of you down a few shots, the alcohol makes its way through your veins and before long you’re feeling pleasantly buzzed. 

Grabbing Dabi’s hand you drag him to the dance floor, it doesn’t take him long to get the hang of grinding up on you and for once you’re not mad about him being a tease. His hand is firmly resting on your hip, you’re a bit more tipsy than you had wanted to get but the song the dj is playing is setting the mood making you hot and bothered. When Dabi’s lips start kissing their way along the side of your neck you’re more than willing to give him more space to leave a few marks.

Your eyes are closed as your bodies grind together and you don’t notice the way Bakugou is glaring with murderous intent at Dabi. Just as you’re starting to loosen up a distance voice snaps you out of your trance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Opening your eyes you find Bakugou standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

“What does it look like I’m doing. I’m dancing” the song that were dancing to ends and another more upbeat one follows.

“With him? I knew your standards were low but I didn’t think you were that desperate” He snorts, your blood instantly boils making the back of your neck prickle with rage.

“Hmm, let’s take this outside. What do you say?” Dabi asks with a playful tone in his voice.

“Whatever” Bakugou grumbles before shoving his way through the crowd of drunk dancing bodies.

Dabi and Bakugou confronting each other was something you hadn’t thought was going to happen when you’d agreed to let Dabi help you get your revenge on him. But as luck would have it, here you were standing in an alley outside of the club with Dabi in front of you and Bakugou glaring daggers into him.

“Oi, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but she’s mine.”

“Yours? Aren’t you the dickhead who cheated on her? Why would she want you back” Dabi’s laugh isn’t teasing like the ones you’ve heard before. It’s condescending, and you start to feel an energy you’ve never felt before radiating off of him.

“Tell me, dollface.” His voice is deeper and when he turns to look back at you his eyes are darker with what you hope is  “Is this mutt really the one you want fucking you right now?” Bakugou’s jaw twitches and he clenches his fist ready to swing at Dabi.

“Tch, down boy” he sighs and just like that Bakugou’s body is slammed down to the cement. You’ve never seen Dabi use his powers before and it does nothing to calm the raging storm of lust about to boil over in your.

“Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to pick up where I left off before you rudely interrupted.” Your wide eyes are still focused on Bakugou’s form kneeling behind Dabi, until he grabs your jaw with one hand and backs you up against the wall.

“I’d much rather you focus on me than him” He mumbles, giving you a sly smile before claiming your lips in a heated kiss. His lips are so much better than you imagined, soft and yet rough at the same time. The cold staples on the corner of his lips lightly scrape against your skin but you don’t care. Sliding your hands underneath his shirt you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.

Your nails clawing at his back hard enough to make him hiss and bite down harshly on the sensitive skin where your neck and shoulders met. If your brain wasn’t so muddled with pleasure it might have been more painful but it only sent sparks throughout your whole body. It didn’t matter how tightly you grabbed him and pulled him closer into you, it wasn’t enough.

 Dabi hooked your right leg over his hip, the other hand trailing up the back of your neck tangling his hand in your hair and pulling it back. The feeling of his lips sucking dark marks onto your flesh elicited a loud wanton moan from your lips. Your fingers buried themselves in his raven locks tugging his head up so you can slip your tongue between his lips. The hand holding your thigh tightens as a carnal growl makes its way up his throat.

Kissing a god was nothing like you’d ever experienced before, it felt like with each kiss he was stealing the air right from your lungs.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, Dabi could have ended your life right then and there and you would have let him. Throughout the past few weeks he’s been living with you, you’ve pictured this in your mind countless times. But you’d never thought that there was a chance in hell that it was ever going to happen. Yet here you were, back scraping against the brick wall of the club’s alley with Dabi’s fingers digging into your hips in a way that would leave their mark there for days.

His lips moved against yours like he was a man starved of touch and affection, his teeth bit harshly against your bottom lip pulling a half strangled moan from your throat. His hands, which felt like they were growing hotter every time he brushed against your bare skin, tightened their hold on your hips to grind you against his dick. The sharp hiss he lets out goes straight to your already throbbing pussy, something about knowing that you’re the one making him feel like  this and lose control of himself just makes you want to push him farther and see how long it’ll take to break him.

Reaching down between your bodies you grab his hips trying to bring them closer to yours for more much needed friction. The action makes Dabi chuckle against your lips.

“Impatient aren’t we princess?” Dabi tries to come off as nonchalant but he wants it just as much you do. He’s been holding out for weeks, at first he just enjoyed making you flustered, pushing all your buttons to see how you’d react. But the longer he spent with you the more his feelings turned from curiosity to genuine interest and the small embers of lust that lay dormant in his gut had erupted into a fire that was rapidly consuming him.

It was dirty and rushed, teeth clacking together as you both tried to bring your bodies closer together until there was not an inch of space left between you. Your dress was now barely hanging on to your hips, but you couldn’t care less because the only thing on your mind was feeling Dabi inside you NOW. Rolling yourself against his dick the best you can while having one leg on the ground, you can’t help but smirk when Dabi moans into your mouth. His hand slides down your stomach, fingers teasing your thighs where the hem of your dress meets your exposed skin before inching closer to where you want him most. His arm sets your leg down in favour of spreading your legs wider for him, tugging your dress up even higher to give himself a better view.

“So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you yet” Dabi laughs in your ear, enjoying the way you inhale sharply as his fingers circle your puffy clit.

“Dabi, don’t be a tease” you shoot back, trying to sound as dominant as you can but instead it comes out as a breathy whine. The contrast of his soft top lip combined with the roughness of his bottom lip against your neck was making you dizzy.  It was the perfect combination of pain and pleasure, and it was only serving to turn you on even more knowing that you had provoked him into doing this.

“You know, I was going to fuck you anyway but don’t you think it’s a little more vengeful if I show your charming ex how to really make you scream?” You were so distracted by the feeling of finally letting out your sexual frustrations that you’d forgotten all about Bakugou who was still under Dabi’s influence.

Before you can answer him, Dabi slides two fingers into you with ease curling them at just the right angle to have you panting against his neck. His movements are anything but gentle and he gives you no time to adjust to his pace as he works his fingers in and out of your dripping  pussy. Your hands wrap around his biceps, allowing you to have some sort of stability while he’s finger fucking you fast enough to leave you light headed.

“Such a fucking tight pussy you’ve got doll” he chuckles breathlessly. His thumb nudges against your clit tightening the coil of white heat rapidly building up in your lower stomach. His fingers are hitting against your sweet spot so perfectly, every thrust knocking the air out of your lungs in breathy moans as he increases his pace.

 The wet sloppy sounds of his fingers in you are only heightening your arousal. Dabi’s lips start sucking against the space between your neck and shoulders, making you tilt your head to give him better access. You’re so close you can feel yourself coming undone, without warning Dabi bites down hard enough to break the skin sending you towards your first orgasm.  You don’t even care that you’re moaning loud enough for anyone to hear you, Dabi’s fingers don’t stop giving you no chance to recover.

“Come on princess, I know you’ve got another one for me. Cum on my fucking fingers like a good slut” his rough voice right against your ear does nothing to help bring you down from your high. You’re helpless to do anything but let yourself become putty in his hands as another orgasm leaves you breathless and nearly sobbing against him.

You whine at the feeling of his fingers pulling out of you, but you don’t have to wait long before he turns your body around to face the wall,  bending you over and unzipping his jeans to free his aching cock.

“Remember when I said we’d discuss what I wanted in exchange for helping you out?” he asks, his voice raw with arousal as he slides the tip of his cock against your dripping folds. You can barely remember what he’s talking about, your mind is so focused on wanting to feel him inside you that you can barely keep track of what he’s saying.

“I think this is a pretty good exchange don’t you think?” Not giving you a chance to respond he grabs your hip with one hand and tangles your hair with the other while sheathing his cock fully inside you with one sharp thrust. Your nails dig into the brick wall as you fail to bite back a scream. He’s so thick that you can feel the veins of his cock rubbing against your walls with each thrust. The hand fisting your hair tightens its grip, pulling your head back towards him. Dabi’s hot breaths are hitting against the base of your neck, the feeling of him inside you is making your head spin with pleasure.

“Go on, tell  him who’s fucking you this good” Dabi’s hips are slapping against your ass hard enough to bruise but you could care less.

“You are” you whimper but it’s not good enough.

“Say my fucking name” he growls in your ear before reaching down to rub hard circles against your clit.

“F-fuck! Dabi! You feel so fucking good” you cry out as another orgasm washes over you making your legs feel like jelly.  You’re almost certain that anyone within a two block radius can hear how loud you’re screaming but you don’t care. Before you can process what’s happening Dabi pulls out of you flipping you back around to face him and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist he slowly pushes back into your hot walls.

“Such a greedy cunt you have, dollface” he grunts and you can’t do anything except nod. Your back hits the wall as Dabi’s hips rut against yours, the new angle allowing him to hit your g-spot with every thrust. His hand wraps around your throat, restricting your air flow and making your pussy clench around him.

“You like it when I choke you? Such a nasty little whore” he laughs, tightening the grip he has around your neck until the edges of your vision start to blacken.

“Your pussy’s so good I might have to keep you” You’re not even sure how he’s still managing to speak in full sentences, if there was anything that reminded you that Dabi was a god it was his insane stamina. He’d already fucked you through three orgasms without being anywhere near cumming. Not only that, but the force he was using the fuck you with was sure to leave you unable to walk for a week.

Your thighs tighten around his waist as he begins rubbing your clit once again making you whine loudly.

“Too much”

“You can take it baby” His fingers show you no mercy causing you to throw your head back against the wall. Your hands push against his shoulders trying to move him away but Dabi is a lot stronger than you gave him credit for.

“Cum on my fucking cock, you can do it. Show him what a good little slut you are for me” Your fingers are gripping his hair so hard you’re sure you’ve pulled some out as you cum around his dick, your eyes struggling to stay open as you feel liquid splashing against your thighs.

“That’s my girl, squirt all over my cock” His fingers grip your jaw as he brings your lips together in another heated kiss. His thrusts become sloppier and more rushed as he chases his own release.

“Fuck Dabi cum in me” you moan against his lips and he curses under his breath as he spills thick ropes of hot cum inside you. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you can barely stand on your legs when Dabi puts you down. You can feel his cum start to drip down your thighs as he presses a soft kiss against your lips. Your eyes finally gaze down towards Bakugou who looks like he’s about to burst a vein. His eyes are burning holes into your neck where dozens of dark marks litter your skin. From the sounds he’s making, you can tell he wants to say something but under Dabi’s control he’s powerless to do anything.

“How was that for revenge?” Dabi smirks.

“I don’t know, might have to try again at home” you reply cheekily.

“What makes you think you’re making it back home? I meant it when I said I was keeping you”

Masterlist 

[17wishbones]

Here is Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2). I low-key cried writing this because, wow, I really do love this Flame Hashira so so so so so so much. I got a bit distracted reading other fanfiction and all that but here comes the second part. Now, this has spoilers from the manga/movie, so get to watching it as soon as possible. However, if you don’t mind it, go ahead and have a read! Please enjoy!

- - - - - - - - 

                                            Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2)

Bright rays of the sun beat down on you as you stood before the oceanfront. The wind blew through your locks and along your skin. In your hands was a net and a few fish caught in them. You ogled them with a tight squint. ‘I know this handwork-’

“_____! _____!”

Your eyes widen. “That can’t be. . .” You slowly turned around and was blessed with a beautiful sight. “Mother? Father? You’re both. . .” Tears flowed like a river as you tackled them in an overdue embrace. You couldn’t swallow the sorrow that crept over your body when you thought to have lost them.

“We’re both what? Other than waiting for you to come home?” Your father was a tall man, standing halfway over six foot. His thick dreads touched the small of his back and his salt and pepper beard filled out his face. He was a handsome man still.

“You must be thirsty, _____. Come on in and drink. You’ve caught enough fish to last us a while.” Your mother was a beauty herself. She had a clean shaven head, a strong jawline, and the legs of an Amazon.

They stood tall while you remained short. You didn’t receive the end of the tall gene pool but that didn’t make you any harder to love, even though they joked about your height all the time. The two of them loved you so much.

Your mother, Oolade, wiped your tears away as your father, Uzoma, got the net of fish from the shore. “We shall eat as kings and queens together!” He shouted. “Look at the bounty our daughter has gathered!”

“I am proud of you, my sweet _____.”

“Mother, Father, please, you are embarrassing me!” You laughed. “Kyōjurō would love nothing more than to meet you both.”

“Kyōjurō?” They both questioned in unison.

“Oh.” Your mind went blank a moment. ‘Why did I say that? Kyōjurō? Who-who is that? His name sounds familiar.’

“Never mind that. Come.” You didn’t even think twice as you followed your mother to your quaint house on the shore that your father built by hand. It was just as you remembered.

“Oolade found some wild rice to make with as well. We’re going to have a feast!”

‘What was I even doing before? I must have been daydreaming.’ There was no questioning this surreal feeling as your parents showered you with love and laughter.

Overwhelmed with a sense of unbridled joy, you thought to never leave him.

You blinked. ‘Him?’ You questioned blankly. ‘Who is this him?’

Time had passed but the scenery didn’t change. “Hey, I’m going to step outside for some air.”

“Hurry back so that you may bless the food before we feast.” Your parents’ smiles, even though forever imprinted in your mind, suddenly dulled in comparison to the image of this fiery man.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You slowly opened them and saw an outlined path towards the woods. You instinctively followed it to a rip into another space. You gasped aloud as you caught a young child making their way to this shining orb floating within a bundle of sunflowers.

The child turned to you, frightened and with the needle pointing towards you. They were sweating and shaking with fear.

“What are you doing here?” 

“How did you find me!? You’re not supposed to be able to enter into your own unconsciousness!”

“It’s mine… isn’t it?” You took a step forward.

“_____? _____!” Oolade and Uzoma came running toward the border with sadness filling their eyes. “What are you doing? Come back!”

“_____, don’t leave us!”

You didn’t heed their words, but their voices wretched your heart. “You plan to do something? For what cost?”

“Destroying your core will allow me to sleep peacefully and see my family again!”

“And that’s the best way to go about it?” You ignored their calls as you pressed forward towards the child. “Your good dream will end and so shall you succumb to your pain.” Your eyes softened. “You will die a sad death. To a demon.”

“How do you know how I feel!? You just had a good dream!”

“A bittersweet dream. My parents have long since passed. They no longer live in this world. Even this cannot bring them back forever or give me peace.”

The child backed up until he was just a footstep away from your core. “Come any closer and I’ll do it!” 

You stopped your approach and knelt down, holding your arms out. “Then you choose. Live your life or succumb to an eternal slumber?”

The child had wanted a good dream of his family, to be happy, but when he saw the look on your face, the look of pain and suffering from even getting a glimpse of what life could have been with them spread over your face.

He dropped the needle and ran to you full throttle, crying his heart out as he embraced you tight around your neck.

This was the right thing to do. Even as good as the dream would be, it would hurt all the more to have it taken away.

The faux warmth of the child disappeared and your eyes fluttered open to an ungodly sight that made you want to throw up.

“What the hell!?” You stood on top of flesh. “Intestines!?”

Rengoku flashed past you by one moment and returned the next. “You’re awake, Sunflower!”

“Did the demon become a train!?”

“So it seems, yes! Kamado and Hashibira are going for the neck. Our job—”

“Is to protect the passengers at all costs.”

“Nn! You take care of this cart and I’ll do the other four!”

“Just one?”

“Your safety is of utmost importance! Aid Golden Boy and the Demon girl as needed!” He kissed you quiet before dashing off in a blaze, hushing your protests.

“That man…” you drew your Nichirin blade, “Is so…” your short dash in the cart made easy work of the disgusting, fleshy tendrils, “Annoying!” But you couldn’t argue with his command or logic. He was sound in the midst of danger.

What you did was light work, and by the looks of it, Zenitsu and Nezuko had the other three sorted as Tanjiro and Inosuke ran for the front of the train. You hummed, slightly irritated at your position. You were getting into none of the action, but you knew how fast Rengoku and Zenitsu were moving by the back and forth teetering of the carts.

‘This train could topple at any moment, especially with all of this monstrous bulk. So, there’s no telling when it’ll--’ A shrill filled the air, disorienting you as the train of muscle crumpled up and fell right off the track. If it weren’t for the demon’s flesh and that Demon Slayer footwork, people onboard would have been seriously injured.

You checked those in your assigned cart and then where Zenitsu and Nezuko were. “Are you guys alright?” 

“Mm, mm!” Nezuko nodded as you came over to the slightly slumped Zenitsu.

“Great!” You took him by the shoulders and started shaking him away. “Zenitsu? Zenitsu! Wake up!” He was still asleep, but he only incurred very few injuries as Nezuko had. “At least you two are alright. You really held your own, Nezuko. I’m a little jealous I didn’t get to help out much at all.”

Nezuko, no matter if tired or full of spunk, was just a beauty to look at. You understood why Zenitsu was so smitten with her though he feigned himself a well-groomed ladies man. She offered a soft sound as a response before she leaned up against you. 

Parts of the demon’s body slowly faded from existence, leaving now broken windows with an open view to the outside. Rengoku stood over Tanjiro, instructing him as he laid on the ground. Nezuko picked up her brother’s scent and slowly headed outside. Zenitsu followed her sleepily as you grabbed a few people and exited yourself.

Suddenly, the earth shook and dust flew everywhere as something else landed unto the field. You couldn’t believe your own eyes! The aura spiked high as it circled around the tattoo-marked Upper Moon demon. The shine in those eyes were as hungry, monstrous, and devilish as their appearance.

In the blink of an eye, he was just moments away from striking Tanjiro. “Fire Breathing! Second Form! Rising Scorching Sun!” Rengoku’s quick thinking saved him. “I don’t understand why you’d target a wounded person.”

“I thought he’d just get in the way between you and me.”

You froze. You had never seen a demon so fast like this one. It was just as scary as that time in Asakusa. The aura you ingested made you run on instinct, quelling the thoughts of fear or nervousness. 

This one looked too toxic. You’d be sick for days. Not to mention, this demon only had eyes for Rengoku.

“You and I have something to talk about? It’s our first time meeting and I already hate you.” Rengoku replied.

“Is that so?” Akaza mused. “I really hate weak humans,” in terms of Tanjiro and others, “When I look at weaklings, I just feel disgusted.”

“It looks like you and I have different moral values in regards to things.”

“I see. Then I have a wonderful proposal. How about you become a demon, too?” 

“No chance.” Rengoku declined.

“I know your strength just by looking at you. You’re a pillar, right?” Akaza’s interest in Rengoku shined through his symbolic eyes. “Your battle spirit is quite polished. You’re getting close to Supreme Territory.”

“I am the Fire Hashira, Rengoku Kyōjurō.”

“And I’m Akaza.”

They both exchanged names but withheld their stances. Akaza came to kill and eat any humans as well as convert the strongest ones into those he could. However, no matter the strength, Rengoku was defiant in every sense of the matter when it came to slaying demons and protecting the weak who could not fight for themselves.

But you weren’t out of the clear, however. “Ah, seems like I have a two for one deal.” To your chagrin, the demon noticed you next. “Why don’t you consider becoming a demon, too?” He saw your spirit as well, one with potential of being his punching bag. “As a demon, you can become stronger. That wonderful sword style of yours will keep on improving and we can fight forever! Otherwise, you’ll never reach Supreme Territory and do you know why?”

Silence.

“Because you’re human. Because you’ll grow old. Because you’ll die.” Akaza pointed his finger at Rengoku. “Become a demon, Kyōjurō. You can train for a hundred years. Two hundred years. You can become stronger.”

His face grew dark as he pointed at the likes of everyone in the vicinity, truly disgusted by what he saw before him. Rengoku looked none too pleased with you inserted into the situation. ‘Don’t worry, _____. I will protect you, the children, everyone! Nobody here will die or turn into a demon while I still stand!’ He felt overprotective over you, and found it fit to fulfill his duty not only as a demon slayer, but as a man.

Rengoku couldn’t stand that look of dread and worry filling your eyes. “Growing old and dying is the beauty of the fleeting creature called a human being. Because they grow old. Because they die. They are tremendous. Lovable. What they call ‘strength’ isn’t a word that is used in regards to the body.” He wouldn’t let Akaza spout such untrue words. “This boy isn’t weak. Don’t insult him. I’ll say it over and over again. You and I have different moral values.” His sunset eyes widen menacingly. “No matter what kind of motivation I have, I will not become a demon.”

“I see.” Akaza stanced. “Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Compass Needle!” Akaza prepared to fight. “If you won’t become a demon, then I’ll kill you!”

Air waves and flames lit up the area as both Rengoku and Akaza moved at blinding speeds. Pillar versus Upper Moon. You were stuck in place, unable to move. The sudden gravity of the situation skyrocketed and your body froze. Your breath shifted, becoming uneven and quick.

“DON’T MOVE!! If your wounds open, it’ll be fatal! Standby, soldier!!”

Rengoku’s serious voice brought you back, but he demanded no one interfered. Inosoke, who stood at Tanjiro’s side, felt helpless.

It was an explosion of power that erupted, and emerging from the dusty cocoon was an unscathed, healed Akaza and a battered Rengoku. “Kyōjurō…?” His blood-soaked uniform recalled his humanity, his mortality. You were in a state of distress.

Akaza praised him, and employed the idea of becoming a demon, where all his wounds, his crushed eye, and his organs would heal in moments. He’d become stronger, faster, and more powerful than before, but the answer was still no.

Rengoku raised his blade and stared on with a dazzling, one-eyed smile. “I will fulfill my duties! I won’t let anyone die here!”

“You really should become a demon so that we can fight for all eternity!”

“Full Focus Breathing. Flame Breathing. Esoterica. Ninth Style: Purgatory!”

“Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Obliteration Style!”

They clashed in one final blow, and the results after the dust cleared terrorized you with your unknown and worst fears.

Akaza punched through Rengoku who held his blade upright. It was but a second before he tightened his grip and slashed at Akaza’s neck which surprised the demon. Rengoku, even as death approached him, remained resilient as he caught Akaza’s other hand, tightened his innards around his arm, and dug his blade further across. As the demon screamed for release, Rengoku screamed for his defeat.

“INOSUKE, MOOOOVE!!! MOVE FOR RENGOKU-SAN!!!”

Tanjiro’s shout broke you from your shock. Opportunity to strike was now or never. At the speed they ran, they wouldn’t reach Akaza as he struggled for release as the sun was due to rise. 

‘Full Focus Breathing. Fire breathing. First form: Unknowing Fire!’

It was a split second decision that made all the difference, and thanks to Inosuke. As Akaza panicked upon seeing Inosuke preparing to jump, Akaza suddenly felt weightless below. ‘What? My legs!’

Inosuke stopped just in time, leaving the final slash to Rengoku who pushed with all of his might and brought his searing blade through Akaza’s neck.

“You sneaky bit— oh no! The sun! I have to go, I have to— AHHHH!!”

Dawn broke over the horizon and Akaza’s body disintegrated.

“Kyōjurō!” You helped him to his knees, seeing the condition that he was in. “You’re hurt. Maybe if we can get you bandaged up, we can—”

“I’m sorry, My Sunflower. My stomach won’t close. I will die very soon.” He turned and addressed Tanjiro. “Kamado, my boy. Let’s have a final chat.”

Tanjiro ran over, huffing as tears stained his cheeks. “Rengoku-san, don’t talk too much! Help will be here soon. Just hold on!”

“Just listen to me. Return to the Rengoku Estate. There should be notes about the ‘Dance of the Fire God’. My father read them  many times. I didn’t read them myself, however, so I don’t know what’s inside them. And for the both of you, tell Senjuro to pursue the path that he thinks is right, as his heart tells him to. And tell my father to take care of his body. And also...” He leaned in. “Kamado, my boy, I believe in your sister. I accept her as a member of the Demon Slayers.”

Droplets of water dripped from Tanjiro’s big eyes.

“I saw that girl protect the humans inside the train despite bleeding out. Those that protect humans and fight demons are Demon Slayers, no matter what anyone else says. Live with your chest high. You, Hashibira, Golden Boy, and her will become great pillars.” His attention finally landed on you.“My Sunflower.” He weakly raised his blood-smeared hand, touching your cheek. “Never give up. I will be watching over you.”

Rivers flowed down your desolate face. “Wait for me over the bridge when I cross. And meet me in the next life.” You found his hands and held them in yours. “I-I l-” Words became lost as you choked on every letter, unable to contain the sadness corrupting your mind and heart.

It hurt him to see you like this, and it devastated him more that he wouldn’t be able to comfort you and grow old together. “My life flashed before my eyes and my most wonderful memories were of you. Your warm smile, your touch, your praises, it makes me more determined than ever to be with you wherever we may go or be.”

The last thing he’d feel was your lips on his, stained with his blood. “I’ll never forget you, Kyōjurō!” You said with as much enthusiasm as you could. “I-I love you!”

Rengoku couldn’t help but to smile. “I love you, too, My Sunflower. Set your heart ablaze. . .”

“And move forward.”

Rengoku peered past you and Tanjiro, spotting a familiar shape. ‘Mother?’ You and Tanjiro looked back but saw nothing. But an enveloping aura past you two and surrounded Rengoku. ‘Did I do everything right? Was I able to fulfill everything I was supposed to carry out?�� 

‘You did a wonderful job.’ A smile to him, a smile to her, and his head drooped. His body rested peacefully in your arms and his fiery aura dispersed as it was no more.

‘Kyōjurō!’ You were too choked up as you sobbed loudly and ugly. Your heart ached just like it had when your parents were eaten by demons.

Your world darkened, stained in your tears and his blood. What was this victory worth now that he was gone? 

It was worth every saved life here, and you knew that. It was going to weigh on your heart how you didn’t help him sooner, but his face discouraged you. He took the brunt of Akaza’s assault and held on until the very end.

You mourned over him from that day and weeks later. No one had seen you since the Mugen Train incident. Rengoku had done so much to keep everyone safe, taking his last breath on the battlefield. It had been a hard pill to swallow, one that you had not fully been accepting of even though you were there to see him off.

Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko missed seeing you around. And especially Senjuro, but you needed to separate yourself and become better. You were no use to anyone lying on your back and crying your eyes out.

With the Nichirin blade in your possession, you carried on silently with a memory of him attached at your hip. His haori? Cleaned, pressed, and framed on the wall. For as long as you lived, his legend would be immortalized. On your shoulders, you carried the burden of loss. Sometimes, it’d hurt so much, your chest would heave and you’d clutch part of your left breast, where the pain ran deep as tears stung your eyes.

You left Senjuro with a kind yet sad smile as you didn’t want to hear the ugly mutterings of his father’s distant, drunk voice. His aura dripped in a drab blue, his melancholy nature surely melting at the loss of not only his wife but now his eldest son.

You hadn’t forgotten about those you loved. You’d be back for them. - - - - - - - - - -  Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

[lavaffair]

Just Admit It

Inukag Fluff Week Prompts: Touch and Pining

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33211216

Having a crush on someone can be wonderful, but also incredibly unfair. The hours spent daydreaming about the person who gives your stomach butterflies seem to be more fun than having the actual crush. Experiencing this vulnerable feeling because of a person is actually quite terrifying and painful. Most of the time, crushes lead to heartbreak and letting go of the person who never gave you a chance.

Being in love with a person can be extremely intense, almost obsessive, and beautiful if done right. When someone’s feelings reach this level, it begins to cut deeper beyond the surface, into dangerous and uncharted territory. Especially if the person you are in love with has absolutely no idea of your true feelings towards them.

For Kagome Higurashi, her feelings towards her best friend Inuyasha Taisho went way beyond a crush. She was in love with her best friend, so in love that it hurt her, and she was too afraid to ever tell him about them.

The risk of ruining her lifelong friendship of 16 years was too scary to think about. Kagome could never think of her life without Inuyasha, he was always there to annoy her, get her angry, protect her, and support her whenever and wherever. When he yelled at the bigger kids for making fun of her name when they were five, or afterward when she pushed someone away from him when they pulled on his ears, they made a pack to back each other up. The friendship just blossomed after that.

Of course, they made more friends along the way, which included Sango and Miroku; whom they met in middle school, but their friendship never changed. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they have had the uncomfortable and awkward conversations that come up between teenagers, and so they have seen it all.

They have been there for each other when their hearts have been broken, when they had fights with others, and when they have personal issues. The bond between them was so strong that even the idea of it breaking caused Kagome a ton of stress. She could not do it and would not do it. At the end of the day, they will be in each other’s friend zone and they will die in the friend zone.

She was convinced that Inuyasha had zero feelings for her. He has seen her at her worst, and probably only looks at her like a sister. There was no way he could feel anything more for her.

This is why seeing him flustered and awkward about having to share a bed together did not raise any suspicions. It was obvious he was just a bit uncomfortable with the situation since it has been years since they have shared a bed with each other. They are both in their early twenties now, and sharing a bed was very intimate at this age compared to at 13.

“Yash, I could go downstairs right now and ask for another room. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.” Kagome grinned at him, trying her best to suppress her shyness.

“Tch. We tried that already! That old hag wasn’t budgin’. This is the last time we let Miroku make hotel reservations.” He anxiously paced around the room.

“I can’t believe they don’t have any rooms with two beds. It’s not like it’s a special weekend or anything, it’s not even that busy this time of year.” She could not help but bite her bottom lip while watching him pace the room. His anxiety was getting to her.

“Well. We’re stuck here now, I tried all of my tricks but that lady wouldn't budge. We just gotta figure this out.”

He disappeared into the closet and pulled out an extra blanket provided by the hotel and placed it on the ground beside the huge bed. It was soft and fluffy enough to provide some comfort, but Kagome knew his back was going to hurt tomorrow and beyond that. They are staying at this hotel for the next few days, and until they can find a new room, they will have to make due.

“Inuyasha, we can just share the bed.” She tried speaking logic into him.

Inuyasha hoped she missed the way his body jolted at her offer because it was an intense one. Share a bed? With his best friend, whom he also harbored feelings for? Not a chance. Not when it was hard for him to even look at her without thinking about all the ways he could hold her.

He was down bad, he just refused to make it obvious. Instead, he played off his feelings for her by being extra rude sometimes. It helped mask his feelings and it was believable because he was naturally a huge jerk. Of course, he has gotten softer because of Kagome, but he turns it on when he needs it. Right now, he was too flustered to even pretend to act like a cocky bastard.

He and Kagome have not shared a bed since they were pre-teens, and that was before puberty kicked in. It took him a while to notice it at first, but when Inuyasha realized he had developed feelings for his best friend, he knew he had to shut it down immediately. He saw the changes she went through, and how she went from this annoying, loud, bossy little girl into this independent and beautiful woman. It was too much for him, and it happened overnight. He sucks at handling his feelings, he is not the best with women, and thus concludes him knowing he is not good for her.

Kagome deserved better, she deserved more than him. Some guy who can talk about his feelings and does not want to punch almost every frustrating person in the face. He was in love with her, so in love, he would sacrifice his chance of happiness just to see her happy with someone else. He will support her from the sidelines, like any good best friend, while his heart tears away at the idea of a love that did not get a chance.

Her friendship was enough for him. That is what he told himself every day.

“No.” He replied flatly. “You probably still kick in your sleep.”

“I do not kick!” He heard her shout.

He laughed, “Tell that to my legs. I think they’re still bruised.”

Of course, he did not miss the way she scoffed as she got the bed ready to sleep in. He could hear her breathing from across the room, her sweet, natural scent filling the space every time she moved around and it was intoxicating.

“Don’t be such a big baby!” She padded the pillows for extra fluff. “You’re a demon, my kicks don’t even hurt you.”

He poked his head out from the closet, looking for anything extra to put on his makeshift bed other than bath towels. “Half demon,” he corrected. “And yes they do.”

She blew out some air from her lungs and padded over towards him, her little feet tip-tapping on the carpet floor. “Inuyashaaaa,” she whined. “If I promise to not kick you, will you please sleep on the bed?”

He swallowed hard, his nerves getting the best of him as he cleared his throat. It took him a second to compose himself before exploding, and then he put on his best face. He raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk playing on his lips with a little fang poking out.

“So you admit that you do kick now. huh?”

Kagome rolled her eyes, immediately walking away from him with her arms crossed against her chest. “You’re impossible!”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he heard her zip and unzip her luggage and heave a sigh. “I’m going to change really quickly. I’ll be right back.”

He grunted in return and quickly changed into some sweats and a loose-fit tee shirt. His makeshift bed was as good as it was going to get, the fluffy comforter folded on the ground providing some back support. There were no more extra blankets, but Kagome always brought an extra for traveling, so he would just use hers to sleep in.

Little sounds were coming out from the bathroom and he knew she was doing her nightly routine of skincare and hair brushing. Out of all the women he has ever met, Kagome was the one always on top of her routines. He knew she had one in the morning and one at night, and the only reason why she was not taking her nightly shower was because of how tired she was after a long travel day.

The sound of clothes coming off and then rustling back on her skin was extremely distracting, so he decided to focus on the interesting floor lamp in the corner of the room. It had a rustic-colored body, with a cream-colored lampshade over the light bulb, and it was as boring as any other floor lamp in existence.

The door to the bathroom clicked open, and the sweet scent that was Kagome hit his nose instantly. It was never enough for him and he was so selfish he always wished for more. The citrusy scent mixed with vanilla was expected after she stayed in the bathroom for so long, but he did not expect his heart to skip a beat when he laid eyes on her in her pajamas. To anyone else, it would just be plain sleepwear, but seeing her in a pink tee-shirt and shorts set was driving him insane. There were little white stars decorating the entire ensemble, and Inuyasha could not believe Kagome could get any cuter.

“Nice PJs, what are you, five?” He teased, if only she knew he was dying inside.

She glared at him in return, “At least my pajamas are more fun. You’re in the same thing you always wear.”

“Kagome, you never see me when I’m going to bed.” He was trying really hard to stop himself from stuttering.

“You’re right, but I see you in the mornings when you’re a grump. You don’t change out of them unless you have somewhere to go.”

“I didn’t come here to get chastised for my taste in sweatpants, Kags.”

She giggled and it sent a jolt of electricity into his system. “That may be true, but when we get back home I’m buying you new pajamas. I’ll get some cute ones for you.”

The half-demon narrowed his amber eyes at her, “You’re gonna get matching onesies ain't ya?”

Shrugging her shoulders and shooting him a cheeky little smile, she skipped to her giant bed and left his question unanswered. Choosing to turn off the lights instead, and leaving the duo in the dark.

Cheeky wench he thought.

There was nothing else for either of them to do but get comfortable in bed to sleep. Everyone in the group had had a long day, and he was sure Sango and Miroku were already asleep in the room across from theirs. He was thankful the universe spared him from having to listen to anything that was not snoring.

“What time do you think we’ll all be up by tomorrow?” He heard Kagome ask from above him.

As he made himself comfortable on the floor with the fluffy pillow Kagome had given him he answered, “Hopefully not at noon. I’ll push you off the bed and bang on their door until yer all awake.”

She laughed, “You’ll get us kicked out if you do that.”

“Yeah?” Well, maybe we can find a hotel that has rooms with two beds.” He grumbled.

“Sharing a bed is not a big deal!” Kagome lied, because to her it would definitely be a big deal.

To the blushing half-demon sleeping on the ground, it was also a very big deal. “Goodnight Kagome.”

Kagome pouted, thankful that he could not see the disappointment on her face. “Fine, don’t be extra grumpy when your back hurts tomorrow.”

They flipped on their sides facing away from each other and attempted to sleep. Kagome was doing well, the giant bed was super comfortable and it would bring her to sleep in no time. Except, she could listen to Inuyasha shuffling over on the floor knowing he was trying to find a comfortable position.

A frustrated grunt had her fluttering her eyes open and groggy from sleep. She wondered how long she had been out, and she would ask Inuyasha but he was still tossing and turning on the floor. She rubbed her eyes and let out a tiny yawn before scooting over to the side to look at him.

At the moment, he was fighting with Kagome’s blanket and was one minute closer to taking the car keys and sleeping inside the car.

“Inuyasha?” he heard her ask. Her voice was soft and sounded small, she looked tired and in much need of sleep.

“Kags? Hey, sorry for waking you.” He said apologetically.

She shook her head with a little smile to show him she felt no animosity towards him. “Yash, you’re uncomfortable. Please come to bed.”

“You say that like it’s easy..” he muttered over his beating heart. She was so tired, and yet here she was still concerned over him and putting his needs before her own.

“It’s not easy.” She replied sleepily.

“What?” He sat up from his floor bed and looked at her. Her eyes were glossed over, and a little smile was painted on her face. “Kags, what do you mean?”

She shrugged awkwardly in her laying down position and yawned again. “I like you, so, it’s not easy for me to tell you that.. but you can’t sleep on the floor.”

Inuyasha’s face heated up instantly, a blush so red and deep that he could make tomatoes jealous of its color. There was no way she was telling him the truth. There was absolutely no way she was reciprocating his feelings right now, because this all seems too good to be true, and nothing this amazing ever happens to him. He was already lucky enough to call her his best friend, but for her to like him back when he had never told her was more than he could have asked for.

Her words processed rather quickly, and Kagome shot up from the bed. suddenly wide awake. There was absolutely no way she just said that to him. Every second that passed caused her to overthink everything, and she felt like her friendship with him was slipping out of her fingers the more time passed.

“I- I mean! Um.. no? Uh. I didn’t say that! Forget what I said!” She laughed nervously, “Haha funny joke!”

Her stuttering was going through one fluffy ear and out of the other because he was still trying to process what she said. He could see her better than she could see him, and her blushing face did not match the denial she was spewing at him.

“Would you laugh too if I told you I felt the same way?” His voice wavered during his confession while his stomach made flips.

“You…” Kagome paused and took a deep breath in a failed attempt to get herself to relax. “You like me too?”

“Yep.”

“..For how long?”

“Since I turned 13 and saw you in that one blue dress at the school dance.” There was no going back for him now.

She remembered that day pretty easily because it was one of her most cherished memories. It was the middle school dance, and everyone was super excited to find someone to go with. Naturally Kagome went with Inuyasha since they were so inseparable, and she wanted to surprise him and go in her new blue dress. That whole night Inuyasha was acting weirder than usual, but she thought it was because of the school dance, not because of her or her blue dress.

“What about you?” His question dragged her out of her thoughts.

“Around the same time as you, except it was after the dance. Yura cut off some of my hair because she was kinda obsessed with it, and mama had to even it out afterward. It was so short, and I hated it! But you came up to me when I was crying and told me I was pretty with my short hair, and then you yelled at Yura the next day.

“That’s when I sort of figured I liked you more than just as my best friend.” She admitted.

The two best friends stared at each other in bewilderment due to their confessions. The words they shared are still floating above them like small clouds. The fear of their feelings staying one-sided was nothing but a fluke now, because their feelings were reciprocated.

“Do you um..” Kagome coughed, “Wanna get off the floor and talk about it some more?” She padded the mattress for emphasis.

He was sure he looked like an idiot with how fast he got up from the carpet. Maybe she did not see it that way, but he sure did feel that way. He felt like he was floating even with his body now firmly on the large bed. He left a small space between them, on the off chance that he was reading into it too much.

It was quiet between them and sleep was still creeping onto them like a predator watching its prey.

“You know I expected my confession to you to be kinda dramatic.” Kagome laughed, “Like, we have a huge fight and we’re yelling at each other from across the room and then you say something stupid and I just kinda scream it out.”

The half-demon raised a brow at her in amusement. “You watch way too many movies, Kagome.”

She pushed on his shoulder in mock offense, “Don’t pretend like you don’t sit there and watch them with me!”

“That’s because you force me to watch them with you. How many times have we seen the Notebook? I lost count!”

“Okay, okay, first of all, we haven’t seen the Notebook since high school. I’ll admit we saw it too often, but not recently!”

“Yeah?” He grinned at her, his fang poking out only adding to the effect he has on her. “Doesn’t mean we haven’t seen similar movies.”

She huffed, “I’m a sucker for romance. You can’t blame me for that.”

Inuyasha watched as her lips turned out into a little pout and she puffed out her chest. Those same lips he has always caught himself staring too hard at, the ones he thought about kissing everyday but knew he never could. Well, here was his chance; and she was sitting right in front of him.

Before he could back out of it, he leaned in closer to her face and stared directly into her dark brown eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and the little gasp she let out echoed his ears. Her breath fawned over his lips as she realized how close they were to touching. Her eyes flicked from his golden ones to his lips, and then back to his eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked her breathlessly. He was totally enthralled by her and her full, parted lips.

She nodded in anticipation knowing that her voice would fail her if she tried to speak.

His lips were on hers instantly as he drank her in like water. They were as soft and plush as he expected them to be but they were also even more than that. Their lips molded against each other so easily it was strange to think about why he waited so long to do this in the first place. The kiss they shared was sweet and cautious but still electrifying. He did not want to scare her away in case she backed out of it, but little did he know she was savoring this moment between them.

Slowly, they parted ways as they tried to catch their breath. Inuyasha noted how cute she looked with pink-tinted cheeks, kiss swollen lips, and sparkling eyes as she looked at him. He could not stop the grin from showing up on his face after finally being able to kiss the girl of his dreams, the same girl that was a bit too far from him at the moment.

“Come ‘ere.” He slurred, his voice deep and rich with admiration. He extended his arms to her and beckoned her towards him with a blush still on his cheeks.

Without saying a word she crawled over to him and broke the remaining space they had between them. She fit into his lap so perfectly and she never wanted to live a life where she could not do this again. The butterflies in her stomach were eating her alive but she powered through the feeling and laid her head on his shoulder. His strong arms embraced her small figure and pressed her into him while he fought the nerves in his body to relax. This was still extremely new to the both of them, but suddenly they wanted to be as close to each other as possible.

They sat together like this for a few minutes until Inuyasha noticed that Kagome was starting to drift away into sleep again. Even the excitement of a love confession was not strong enough against the pull of sleep.

“Kags,” he whispered. “Let’s lay down. You need to sleep more comfortably.”

She protested, “But I’m comfy here.”

Before she could say anything more he quickly changed their position and laid down on the bed. With one arm still holding Kagome snuggly on him, he used the other to bring up the giant comforter to cover the both of them. He was glad they both decided to leave the lights off during the entire ordeal they had earlier so he did not have to get up and ruin her comfortable position.

Kagome was thankful for the lights staying off too because she was not going to let Inuyasha go even for a second. Miroku and Sango might be extremely confused tomorrow morning when they notice the change in dynamic but that will be tackled when they get to it. Right now, she is way more content with her head on his chest and his hand on her back.

Before she officially dozed off into slumber, she kissed his chin and snuggled into him. With her head on his chest, she could hear the erratic beating of his heart after her surprise kiss. He said nothing as he listened to her breathing steadily with every minute that passed until her grip on his arm went slack.

Inuyasha had not expected so much to happen between them in a span of a few hours. Their dynamic now changed forever. He was aware that they still had more to talk about, but for now, he was going to cherish this moment with her. He kissed her forehead one more time out of pure need and desire before settling in to catch some sleep.

He would never deny sharing the bed with her ever again.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Uh, is there still an angst break? Ignore this ask until your ready if so 👉😎👉

-

What was the au where Jekylls pushed down the stairs and experiences a skull crackening again? Oh well but I've been thinking of a branch of that where Jekyll doesn't know hes dead like all day. I also cant remember if that was already discussed or not

The lodgers patch him up, he complains of a headache, and goes on his merry way! He's confused why all the lodgers are so nervous and being nice to him all of the sudden, why creature is looking at him with a stange mix of empathy and pity. He was told he fell down the stairs, fell unconscious, and obtained a bit of an injury. He cant fathom why Frankenstein is "The only doctor who can treat him" why he has to constantly go to her for checkups. Why Maijabi is suddenly following him practically everywhere.

Hyde squeezes back control for a moment and tries the potion but it doesn't work. Maybe a bit of pain but certainly no transformation. Jekyll assumes his injury or whatever medication they're giving him to treat it somehow negated the effects

Jekyll complains about "suddenly blacking out" the lodgers know its because his soul is slippery. They tell him it must just be a side effect of the injury and not to worry

How long can they keep it secret from him? When does he find out? Does he? Does it get to be years only for him to realize that he hasn't aged? That he still needs checkups from Frankenstein? Does he learn sooner? Does a lodger crack and say it? Does he rot? Does he notice how so very cold he is. How animals act around him? It's all very interesting,,

-

I actually did think a bit of Jekyll's kidnappers for the amnesia kidnapping au! When drawing that lil sketch of Henry and O'Leary meeting Robert I had considered making it so O'Leary was suspicious of Lanyon like "Oh theres no news anywhere of someone matching Thomas' description who's missing. But some random people walk up claiming to know him? Begging to take him back with them?" And he'd think they were the kidnappers. But ultimately I decided against it as I felt Lanyon and Rachel were pretty clearly, genuinely concerned for "Thomas" :p

-

I tried playing assassins creed once, the first(?) one. But the controls were confusing and everything was sorta thrown all at me at once, and I got bored of it quickly

But! I went to the store the other day and just so happened to notice Syndicate was being sold for 15 dollars 👀 So I bought it because funky Victorian assassins and your influence! It's a bit less confusing then the first ac game I tried but why is going down or dropping so hard bdksnks. I'm having quite a bit of fun! If you dont count my rage and annoyance-, the B button refuses to cooperate with me unless I'm looting corpses >:(

The b button being the bane of my existence aside, I AM having fun! I like the funky outfits and I want to play as the girl twin (evie?) forever because her clothes are good and shes better at attacking than jacob(?) For some reason. Probably the stun her weapon has? Oh well! I have not unlocked any new outfits yet, nonetheless I wish there were more.

Also! I was thimking, and my current quests are taking place at 1868? Did I get that right? And Jekyll is like 35 in 1885. So in game he'd be 18! An au like I believe you mentioned sounds very interesting 👀 but I must play more to know what's going on and daydream about it

That would be the resurrection au <3

But god, I really like that branch! Especially combined with the hc that he can't feel pain bc the HJ7 and the transformations made him immune. Frankenstein patched him up and made fleshweaver to heal the crack in his skull but it still has to be bandaged, he surely broke a few bones, yet all he has to do is to be careful because it doesn't even hurt. He doesn't even realize how severe the injuries are because it doesn't hurt, it very well might just have been that he accidentally slipped at the bottom of the staircase and accidentally hit his head on the railing during his fall, rather than getting physically pushed and flying down the stairs, shattering his skull upon impact with the marble floor. Y'know what would be extra fun? If he only starts getting a bit suspicious about how severe the injury was once he realizes his lungs stop breathing for minutes at a time when he gets distracted, or his heartbeat stops dead in his chest. I know that that's not how biology or even creature works but lets say the HJ7 is funky, Zombie Jekyll my beloved. Perhaps he would only fully grasp what had happened once he blacked out too much and 'passed out', but his soul slipped out enough to leave his body unconscious on the floor while his soul/ghost was just... Watching. And it's not until Maijabi (who, as you said, follows him everywhere) immediately calls for more Lodgers saying that Henry's soul is getting unstable and Frankenstein's lousy job is starting to shine through that he fully understands that it was not a mere hit to the head. Or maybe it is when days, weeks, maybe months has passed and the headache never goes away, he only feels how his body starts feeling so much more... Fragile and delicate, that the guilt has eaten Helsby up alive and he corners him and spills everything, knowing he is going directly against what the group agreed to but not being able to keep it a secret much longer-- or maybe Creature would tell him immediately, once Henry is, for once, alone perhaps days after the initial accident. He cannot see Henry struggle to understand what is going on when he already knows what's happening to Henry, his mind, and his body. He doesn't listen to the plan that Frankenstein and the Lodgers has set up and immediately tells Henry the first moment they are alone. That would certainly be horrifying, I can only imagine how the Lodgers would find Henry after that, once he actually knows and manages to process everything. He would be so mad, not only to have been killed in the first place, but also because he was robbed of an afterlife because the Lodgers were selfish and could not accept the consequences of their actions. He would be mad, he would be so pissed and I have no doubt he might actually be mad at Maijabi too for even agreeing to help Frankenstein and the rest of the Lodgers. That anger would not stay long, though. That anger would soon turn into misery and sadness and paranoia so even as Henry has tried to push Maijabi away, Henry still ends up on his doorstep begging him to help him make sure he is not rotting, because no matter what anyone says, he is sure he can see rotten spots and patches on his skin and he is just so scared and jdhfjsdfdsfsfs... <3

--

Ooooooohhh, I was actually daydreaming about this just this morning! Granted, I woke up at 5 and began to daydream to fall asleep quicker but I still like the thought of O'Leary being suspicious of Robert/Rachel/Jasper/the Lodgers bc he is protective of 'Thomas' and doesn't want anything bad to happen to him and especially with the idea that Henry still has hallucinations and they both think he was abandoned by his family, left to rot at a mental asylum. O'Leary might very well think that it might be Henry's friends and family that dumped him that Henry had 'escaped' the hospital and that's why they knew he was missing since the Asylum itself obviously wouldn't have posted the news... I really liked Jeks idea, okay? Like a lot, I absolutely love it <3

--

Oh, the oldest AC game I played was Unity bc it was free after the Notre Dame fire, and I can confirm, I played 15 min and could not get through it even if i would have wanted to, it absolutely sucks so i have no doubt the older games are just as frustrating <3

BUT!!!! I'M SO GLAD MY CORRUPTION IS SPREADING AND YOU BOUGHT AND PLAYED IT AND ARE ENJOYING IT SO FAR!!! Trust me, Syndicate truly is an absolutely amazing game and is definitely one of my top 3 games of all time. I sometimes play it w my friend watching me play and trust me, I know that rage of trying to do smt but the character does smt else... or you try to do smt but the game doesn't react and you miss your chance... Oh well, still a wonderful game <3

My friend loves to play as Evie as well but I'm definitely playing Jacob every chance I get and I honestly get a lil pissy when I have to play as Evie bc I always prefer to play male characters, plus, I just like Jacob better bc he is a sweetheart. He is also canonically bisexual as hell!!! Have you met Abberline yet? The police officer? Him and Jacob together is one of my fave ships for the game. I also bought the ultimate/golden/whatever name it was edition so I had a bunch of extra outfits, I love the sherlock holmes outfit for Jacob but my friend keeps bullying me for it </3

Honestly? The time difference is the bane of my entire idea for the au bc if it's during their time Henry hasn't even graduated yet, and definitely not well-known enough for them to actively meet for whatever reason, and if you use the timeline for the jack the ripper dlc (in 1888) a lot of... Less than pleasant things happen so it wouldn't really make a lot of sense for a crossover to happen at that point but maybe it's just bc im a pussy and refuse to play the dlc. Rn, while imagining the au, I just imagine the 1868 timeline to be the same as the TGS timeline. I like to imagine the Frye Twins hearing about Henry and the Society and promptly breaking into his office to ask him to make poison and stuff for them. I also have a feeling that Jacob would flirt wildly with Henry and that Henry would be less-than-amused. It would also be a very fun thing with the fact that there would be two Henrys, with TGS Henry Jekyll and AC Syndicate Henry Green, soo... XD

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Knitting You a Home - 3

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: Implied abuse from previous owners.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Namjoon groaned as he stood from his desk chair, the cracking of his back echoing the small room. The moment he had come back from visiting you at work was probably the last time he had moved, and that had been hours ago.

He knew that if you were here, you’d probably scold him for sitting for so long until he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. He could picture you struggling for a few moments and try to reclaim your argument, but all it would take was him nuzzling your neck for you to melt in his embrace.

The daydream, like always, brought a smile to Namjoon’s face. He wasn’t sure when the last time you came to visit him at work was, but he was willing to bet that Ma wouldn’t mind watching over the store for you to do so either.

Although…with a glance around his studio, his lips curled into a smirk as he stared at the couch he had against the wall near the door. It was question on whether or not work would get done then.

Rolling his neck, he stretched an arm above his head and held it for a few seconds before doing the same to the other. It was another late night for him and Yoongi. The rapper they were working with had decided that he no longer liked the vibe of one of the songs, so they were forced to scrap it as the artist worked on finding his, ‘muse’ as he told them. Until they had a new version, they were busy finishing up the other tracks in the time being.

After hearing every version of all twelve songs, he knew them all by heart at this point. Which was probably why when someone knocked on his door, he didn’t hesitate to lean over the desk and pause the music, calling out for them to come in.

“What’s up Yoongi?” Namjoon asked, smelling his friend’s familiar scent as he entered.

Yoongi grunted, the door shutting behind him on its own as Namjoon straightened up, turning around in time to see his friend lounging out on the couch, his cat tail lazily hanging over the edge.

“I’ve been up since four,” the cat hybrid murmured, his eyes slowly looking around the room.

Not surprising, Namjoon thought. With a twist of his hand, he turned the chair around to face Yoongi and sat back down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Then go home. There’s not much left for us tonight.”

Yoongi finally looked up at his friend. “Yet we’re still here at…” He glanced behind Namjoon to see the time on the computer. “…midnight.”

Raising an eyebrow, Namjoon glanced at the watch around his wrist, startled to see that it was as late as Yoongi said. By now you’d be in bed, hopefully sleeping, but he knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until he got home safely.

“Go home,” Yoongi suggested, seeing the flash of disappointment on Namjoon’s face. “You’re the one with a wife at home. Go be with her Joon.”

At the mention of you, he sharply inhaled, suddenly shifting in his chair and turning sideways so he could see the computer screen. However, next to his computer was a picture of you and him.

He was sitting on the couch with you in-between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close as you held your arm out to take the selfie, all while holding up the official adoption document in your other hand. The two of you were smiling and at the time, the right side of your neck hadn’t been marked yet.

It was one of his favorite pictures, one of the happiest days of his life, but it also served as a reminder of the dreams that he had taken away from you.

“Angel’s not my wife,” Namjoon softly corrected, his favorite nickname for you soothing his emotions for a brief moment.

The atmosphere in the studio immediately shifted. The easy and slightly stressed out tension dropped as Namjoon’s emotions slipped, changing to reflect on his sadness and disappointment. Usually he had a tight grip on his feelings when his friends were around, but this time, he didn’t care enough to reign them back in right away.

Yoongi’s ears pressed down to his skull, his tail swaying back in forth in distraught as Namjoon’s emotions washed over him. It was nowhere near as bad as when Hoseok grieved over being separated from Sarah, but it was close enough to remind Yoongi of that.

“Is she okay?” Yoongi sat up, wondering if you had been hurt in any way. If that were the case, then why was Namjoon here? His instincts wouldn’t have let him leave you while his mate was hurt.

Namjoon nodded, taking the pencil that had been laying on the desk. “She’s fine.”

“Then what’s…” Frowning, Yoongi’s tail lightly hit his leg as he thought, trying to understand the sudden turn in events. In the last year, the only time he recalled Namjoon being withdrawn, was when they first met. All Yoongi had said was to go home and be with…his wife.

“Namjoon,” he gently called out, watching as the wolf Hybrid refused to look at him. “She’s your Mate. It’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon bitterly said, lightly tossing the pencil back on to his desk, watching it bounce a few times before landing on the floor. Staring at the photograph, at your unmarked neck, his eyes watered up. “Angel will never be my wife, Yoongi. She’ll only ever be my owner.”

Running a hand through his hair, Yoongi clenched his jaw, trying to not let Namjoon’s emotions distract him. He took a deep breath, refusing to be suffocated by the guilt and frustration his friend felt. “We’re Hybrids, Namjoon. In our world she is your Mate. She bears your Mate Mark. Angel is, to use the human’s term, your wife.”

A whine ripped through Namjoon as he turned to look at his friend, feeling Yoongi’s own disappointment and pain as a result of his own emotions. Yoongi just didn’t understand it.

“No.” He simply said, shaking his head. “The humans will never see us as husband and wife. One request to see my adoption papers is all that it’ll take for them to make up their minds once they see her name. They might humor us and say we’re Mates, but to them, she’ll always be my owner. I’ll never be able to call her my wife and be taken seriously.”

Yoongi stared at his friend, blown away at the sudden anger that swirled around him. He had known that this bothered Namjoon, but never in a million years did he think that it was kept locked up deep inside him.

Despite the law changes in the last twenty years, Hybrids had more rights now than when they were first created. But for some reason, humans never did away with the law denying marriage between a Hybrid and their owner, even when lawmakers knew that it was a common occurrence.

Apparently, a Hybrid marrying their owner was seen as, inhumane.

Even with that one law, it typically didn’t matter what the humans thought, as long as the Mate bore the Mate Mark, then they were a married couple in Hybrid society. The mark served as not only a physical declaration, but the mate’s scent would no longer be just theirs, but a mix of their own and who had marked them, announcing to every Hybrid in the area that they were together.

A wedding was simply done for the human’s benefit.

Namjoon knew all this. So why was he refusing to listen to facts?

Licking his lips, Yoongi remembered a similar reaction coming from Namjoon, back when it was winter and the two of them had been walking with Hoseok to Sarah’s shop, when they had forgotten about the laws.

“Is this all because of last winter?” He asked, knowing that it was true when Namjoon’s ears rested on his head. “Joon, why? Why are you dwelling on that?”

He shook his head. It was stupid and Yoongi was right. You were his Mate and that meant more to Namjoon than anything in the world. But it riddled him with guilt because he would never be able to give you what you wanted.

“I’m still part human,” he simply answered, staring at the floor. “I’m not just some animal like they want to think.”

There was no doubt about that. Every Hybrid was still half human, and even with the laws that had been created to protect them from abusers, there were still people who were prejudice against them simply because their DNA wasn’t one hundred percent human. It was something that every Hybrid dealt with at some point in their life. There was no getting around it, unless by some miracle you were raised within a home with purely kind humans. That was a rarity, but after seeing you and Namjoon together, and then Hoseok and his Mate, it gave Yoongi hope that the future generation wouldn’t have to suffer like they had.

Namjoon roughly wiped his eyes, forcing back the tears so that they wouldn’t slip out. Now that he had spoken his piece, he began to collect his emotions, hating that he had let them out in the first place.

Standing up, Yoongi silently walked across the floor and to Namjoon’s desk, opening the drawer on the left-hand side. Inside was a notebook, battered from use and if Yoongi were to flip through the pages, he’d find Namjoon’s delicate handwriting filling the pages. Lines crossed out and rewritten. Some underlined and with coffee stains or doodles in the corner.

He waited for Namjoon to take the journal before speaking again. “Then write it out. Take all the fucked-up crap the humans’ dish out about us, and serve it back to them. Make them regret everything they’ve said and done to us, but Namjoon…don’t you ever forget that you have a Mate back home who loves, and we both know she waits up for you to come home.”

The notebook fit perfectly in Namjoon’s hands. It had been a gift from you in the early days, not even a week after he came to stay with you and it became clear that he was incapable of sleeping through an entire night, without having nightmares.

“Write.” You said, gently smiling at Namjoon.

He took the notebook from you. It was simple with a brown moleskin cover and a spiral ring to make it easier to turn the pages. “Write what?” He asked, turning it over in his hands as if it would reveal the reason for why you gave him this.

You shrugged. “Whatever you want. It’s yours now. Notes about your day, ideas, thoughts that you want to remember. Hell, you can even write a grocery list if you want. I saw it while at the store and thought…well I thought if you wrote in it, it might help you to sleep at night.”

As you explained, he looked up from the journal to watch your reaction, seeing that you were being genuine. Your emotions were nothing but kind and wanting to help him, and it surprised him. You were different from the others, and he couldn’t help but wonder why.

But he didn’t get the chance to ask. Instead you glanced at the kitchen with a smile, getting out of your seat. “I can smell the cookies baking from here. They should be done soon, but I wanted to give you this before you went back to your room for the night.”

And write, he did.

It took some time for him to feel comfortable writing about the nightmares that plagued him, the memories that were so realistic he tasted the blood building up in his mouth when he abruptly woke up in the middle of the night.

He had tired documenting his memories, but each attempt had been painful and felt wrong. It wasn’t until he began to write songs that everything fell in to place. Growing up, he had attempted songwriting as a way to cope with his life, and he thought the habit had long since been forgotten over the years, but it came back to him like he never stopped.

The lyrics, the beats and melodies he found himself hearing in his mind and tapping out on the flat surfaces were coming to him like water drifting in a river.

“Go home,” Yoongi encouraged once again. “Go home to her. Go to bed. I’ll finish up listening to the songs and make sure everything’s set for tomorrow. Okay?”

There was no more arguing with Yoongi. He was right. Sleep and holding you close was what Namjoon needed, and with how his visit had gone at the store this afternoon, he knew you needed it too. With a nod, he stood up from his chair, watching Yoongi settle into it and scoot closer to the desk.

The conversation wasn’t over though. Maybe just for tonight, but they both knew that it would come up again whether they wanted it to or not. This wasn’t something that could be buried forever. For right now, they were both willing to cover it up until they weren’t exhausted and emotional.

“Thanks Yoongi,” Namjoon slipped his bag over his shoulder, stealing a glance at the photograph once more.

Yoongi merely waved it away, his tail waving back and forth. “Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep for both of us.”

He watched as Namjoon left, and even then, he didn’t turn back to the computer until he could no longer hear his footsteps. With a shake of his head, Yoongi sighed as he stared at the same photograph.

He wondered if Namjoon knew that back then, even without you having his Mate Mark, they looked like a couple in love. That even back then, they were always destined for each other. Whether the laws wanted to accept them or not.

The world passed by Namjoon, although there wasn’t much of it to see at this hour. Besides the bus driver, he was the only passenger which wasn’t uncommon. Many nights he wanted to tell you about the people he saw on the bus only to have wait until morning when you were awake, settling for scribbling reminders into his notebook.

The lack of passengers never bothered him. The quiet was actually comforting to him after listening to music all day, the silence allowed his mind to wander as he watched people through the window. Tonight however, he was focused on the flyer he held.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he wasn’t too surprised that this had been on the bulletin board, but the fact that he had discovered it under the hundred other posters was a miracle in itself. The thin white flyer was advertising an underground rap battle taking place at the Lotus.

He had been to Lotus a few times with you, but he wasn’t able to recall where exactly a rap battle would be able to place. The last time he was there, bodies had been pressed against each other as strobe lights bounced off of jewelry and exposed skin, recalling how you were lit up in blues and pinks while you danced against his front with a drink in a free hand, the music thumping in his ears as he stole sips from your glass.

Maybe there was a place for it. He had just been too preoccupied to look for it.

“Alright Namjoon, we’re here.”

Lifting his head, he was surprised to see that they were already at the last stop for the bus. “Thanks Jerry, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Son, don’t you ever sleep?” Jerry turned in his seat to look back at Namjoon.

Namjoon simply grinned, folding the flyer in half and sticking it in his pocket as his tail bumped against one of the poles. “When wolves start sleeping at night I will.”

Jerry chuckled, waving as Namjoon exited the bus to begin the walk back home.

The bus stop was a twelve-minute walk from home and like with riding the bus, he enjoyed this time to himself. Besides you, the only company he needed was the one that nature provided all on its own. Crickets chirping in the grass, the fluttering of the tree leaves as birds and owls moved around. It was peaceful, and right now, that was what he wanted.

Deep down, he knew that Yoongi was right. That in their world, you were rightfully his wife, the Mate Mark simply taking place of a wedding ring. His heart knew it and so didn’t his soul, but his mind kept fighting it.

The human side of him knew that without a wedding certificate and wedding bands, society wouldn’t acknowledge him as your husband. They might lightly toss around the term Mate, but they would never mean it. To them, he was your Hybrid and nothing more.

Reaching for his phone in his other pocket, he slowly unwrapped the earbuds, slipping one in his ear while scrolling through his music. He would have put in the other, but the memory of you worrying that people might sneak up on him without hearing them came to mind and kept him from doing so. It had been adorable to see you so concern about him, and since he hadn’t had anyone to worry about him in the first place, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that his other set of ears would have picked up on the sound of twig snapping off in the distance.

What bothered him the most about all this, was that he had known. He had known since he first started living with you that you dreamed about one day marrying the love of your life. As he walked down the memorized path, his mind wandered back to that morning.

Namjoon’s ear flicked towards the closed bedroom door as he laid in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin as he forced himself to remember where he was, like he has been for the last three days.

He had come to stay with you at your house due to the overcrowding at the Shelter, all the scents and noises had been too much for him. Your place was quiet, allowing him to uncoil and calm down.

The most important thing, was that he was safe here.

If memory served right, then today was the start of the weekend. Glancing at the clock that you had on the nightstand, he doubtfully looked back at the door and then back at the device, wondering if it was wrong. It was six in the morning.

From the bedroom he was able to hear low voices and the soft pap of your footsteps against the wooden floor. That was you alright. But why you were awake? Weren’t weekends meant to be used for sleeping in?

Sitting upright, he ran a hand through his hair, his other hand clenching the blankets as he scanned the room once again. Did this mean you were expecting him to be up too? You had been nothing but nice to him since the night of the storm, but he knew how things have a habit of not being what they seem. It had been three days and already you exceeded his expectations of him staying with you.

It was like…you enjoyed his company.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden buzzing, your hurried footsteps echoing this time instead of being quiet. He waited with bated breath, at first thinking that you had been running to the guest bedroom that you told him he could stay in, but there was nothing but silence right outside his door.

Namjoon pushed back the blankets and stood up, making sure to smooth out the blankets and pillows so that they appeared undisturbed, leaving the room once he was satisfied. He was curious as to what was happening, but he hadn’t been expecting the smells to hit him.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his senses as a sweet tart had his mouthwatering. Without thinking, he followed the smells to where it opened up into the living room and kitchen, spotting you by the counter. Next to him, the TV was on to a show with women wearing white dresses, the volume turned down to low so it didn’t travel down the hall to the bedrooms.

His footsteps were silent as he entered the kitchen, curiously watching you plate the large muffins onto a glass plate. In front of you was a light blue mug with steam wafting up from it. With a deep inhale, he realized these were the things he had been smelling.

As if you had been expecting him, you turned to look at Namjoon, gently smiling as you plated the last muffin. “I’d thought you be sleeping for a while,” you spoke, setting the empty tray back on top of some potholders he hadn’t noticed.

Namjoon didn’t speak, and apparently, you didn’t mind. “I’m so used to getting up early that it’s hard to sleep in sometimes. So, I tend to do a lot of baking in the morning to have something to do.”

You reached up to brush a loose strand of hair back, automatically patting the back of your hair to make sure that it hadn’t fallen out of the messy bun you threw it up in. Still dressed in bed clothes, an oversized shirt that was tied at the side and a pair of thin pajama pants, you took one of the small plates and set a blueberry muffin on it, handing it to Namjoon.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, hesitating to take it.

But you waited, and after a few minutes, he carefully took the plate.

“They just came out of the oven so they’re hot,” you reminded, pointing at the butter and the knife on the table. “I recommend cutting it in half and spreading some butter on them, they taste so good.”

Namjoon didn’t move.

With a lick of your lips, he saw the emotions in your eyes waver as you made your own plate and went to the table, doing exactly what you had suggested he do. He knew that you were holding your emotions in check for him, but he didn’t say anything as he started to copy your movements. At the sight of the butter melting on the hot muffin, his stomach growled, making his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“There’s more than enough if you want a second,” you gently encouraged. He didn’t even need to look up to hear the smile in your voice.

The morning after the storm, trees had been knocked down so you had stayed home while the roads were getting cleared, claiming you didn’t want to get caught up in the cleanup. At lunch time you had knocked on his door to tell him that lunch was ready if he was hungry, and despite your promises that it was okay, he lingered at the hallway, unsure if you were sincere that he could not only just eat, but to enter the room. When he finally joined you at the table, he had sensed your shock at how little he had taken – barely enough to feed a small child – and again you encouraged him to eat as much as he wanted.

He never said it, but he had heard crying coming from your room that night. His ears had flattened against his skull at the muffled sound of your sadness, feeling a wave of the emotions you were experiencing. You may not have known what Namjoon had gone through, but you had begun to piece together the possibilities.

“Would you like some coffee too?”

Your voice had roused him from his thoughts, glancing up at you to see you pointing at the mug you had set on the table. Another sniff and he was nodding, watching you smile before going around him to get a second mug, this one a warm orange, and recreated the drink.

“Here you go,” you murmured, your smile growing as he accepted it without waiting.

He was hungry and for the first time, he was starting to feel okay with taking the things that you were giving him.

"I’m going to sit on the couch,” you explained, drinking your own coffee as you picked up your plate again. “You can join me if you want.” With that, you went into the living room, comfortably sitting down as you turned the volume up a little bit.

Namjoon didn’t join you right away. Instead, he readjusted the grip he had on the mug, and cautiously took a sip. Instantly the inside of his chest warmed up, the slightly bitter taste of the coffee beans waking up his mind that was still foggy from sleeping.

He stared at you from where he stood, awake but confused. Why were you being so polite, so kind to him? Was there something you wanted from him that he hadn’t been able to sense yet? Yet every time he tried to understand your emotions, he got nothing but unrelenting patience and happiness from you. He hadn’t even spoken to you yet, and you were happy he was here. At least, that’s what he was assuming from how you felt.

Making up his mind, he quietly sat on the other end of the couch with a seat in between you and him, gingerly taking a bit out of the blueberry muffin now that it wasn’t so hot it hurt. It was like heaven in fluffy bread that melted in his mouth, the blueberries bursting with sweetness and the occasional bitter taste.

On the TV, a woman said yes to a dress and her friends were screaming in happiness, capturing his attention as he tried to understand what was happening.

“They’re shopping for wedding dresses,” you explained, having seen the confused look on Namjoon’s face. “I’ve binge watched every episode for this show, I love seeing all the different gowns and weddings, gets me excited for the day that I get to go through this. But that won’t be for a long time.”

There was a longing in your voice that had peaked Namjoon’s interest, and as you explained, he noticed that your eyes had lit up with the unmentioned dream. He knew what marriage was and that humans didn’t always marry the right person, and while he didn’t really see the point in them, he hoped that one day you’d get to live out your dream.

You deserved it.

Namjoon winced as his shoes echoed in the silent entryway, snapping out of his memories when he sensed your steady heartbeat. It was with a start that he realized you were actually asleep, not just pretending to be like you usually did when he was this late.

It was good that you were asleep, but as he walked to the bedroom, guilt filled him at the thought of missing these quiet moments with you. Passing by the couch, he turned off the lamp that had been left on, enveloping the room in darkness.

He was already discarding his shirt when he entered the bedroom, tossing it in the hamper when he saw you. His body relaxed at the sight of you curled up under the blankets, your hair off of your neck to reveal your Mate mark. A soft growl came from him as he took his pants off, sliding under the blankets in just his underwear, too tired to bother pulling on a pair of sweat pants. Not that you would complain anyways.

On instinct, he curled his body around yours, wrapping an arm around your waist as he buried his face in your hair. Your scent of nutmeg and crisp apples was comforting him, the sound of your soft sigh and the way your body automatically curved backwards into his embrace even as you slept didn’t go unmissed by Namjoon.

With you in his arms, it was easy to push away the rest of the world, especially like this. But it also only served to remind him what he’d taken away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing the Mate mark, lips brushing against your skin with every word. “I’m sorry I can’t fix this baby. I’m so sorry Angel.”