#like they KNOW my conditions fuck with my eating. why do they act surprised when it happens.

[mosspapi]

"Are you sure you're eating enough?"

"Have you lost weight?"

"Why are you so thin?"

"Why don't you eat more?"

Idk ma'am, maybe having a physical disability that severely impacts my ability to eat will make me... not eat? Wild concept, I know. It's almost as if pretending I'm not ill won't actually make the problems go away.

But it also doesn't help that you actively guilt-trip me when I DO eat literally anything including medically prescribed supplements. Have you ever considered that telling someone who is physically ill that there are too many calories in their medically prescribed supplements, which are often the only things they can stomach, will make them simply stop eating because they aren't being allowed to eat the only things they physically can? Did you ever think of that? No, because you only think about yourself.

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 3

I don’t know why I’m awake and still editing 😭 I have to go to work tomorrow morning. It’s not even the weekend yet and I’m acting like it is but it’s ok, right? Right.

table of contents watch me fall

Five hours later, Keeley is scrolling through pictures of you and Jamie on your phone. 

“Oh my god, you’re both so tiny!” she crows. She can hold her alcohol much better than you would have expected, but by this point, she’s definitely far gone.

You can’t bring yourself to have more than two drinks. Everything leaves behind an acrid taste, so you switched to water a while ago. That means you’re completely fucking sober as Keeley swipes through your entire friendship with Jamie.

“Wow, you two were like, attached at the hip,” she comments. “Is this your mums?”

It’s a picture of two women about the same age, looking at the camera with strained smiles. You remember that day. Your mum had slipped you and Jamie money to get ice cream with the condition that you’d eat it at the shop and not bring it home. She’d looked right into your eyes as she said it, conveying a message beyond her words. You were maybe ten years old and not sure exactly what she meant, but you nodded seriously and ran to drag Jamie down the street.

You and Jamie had come back, hours later with ice cream drips on your shirts, none the wiser to what had transpired in your absence.

“I remember that picture,” you say aloud. “Jamie’s dad took it, the piece of shit. He dropped ‘round and was a happy drunk until he wasn’t. Mum threatened to call the police, but Georgie still came away with a black eye. They thought me and Jaim didn’t know, but,” you shrug. “You know how it is when you’re ten. You know fucking everything.”

Keeley nods, and you take it as an invitation to keep talking. “We used to share a brain, basically. Hardly ever seen without each other. You know we didn’t even date till I was in secondary? Mum was so surprised we weren’t already sneaking around behind her back. Guess she and Georgie used to talk about it a lot. Jamie was home four hours after she died. Not even sure how, really, he was out of town. I asked him about it once and he wouldn’t tell me, the little shit. That night… I couldn’t sleep. It was awful. I sneaked out of my room and down the hall to her bed, because it still smelled like her, you know? I had this dream that she was still there with me and when I woke up it felt like I had lost her all over again. I had to remember that she wasn’t just downstairs making breakfast.”

You pause. It’s all coming out so matter-of-factly, like it happened to someone else.

“Anyway, I just laid there and cried. The first tear had barely fallen when Jamie just came in and got in bed next to me. I think he had just woken up, but he… he held me so fucking tight and whispered, ‘I felt you crying. I can be here as long as you want,’ and then we just stayed there. We were there for fucking…hours. He just let me cry and didn’t say anything, just kissed the tears off my face and handed me tissues. The next couple days he moved all my things from the house to a room at Georgie’s. She had this like, office thing upstairs that was basically a closet, but it was the same layout for mine and theirs so it was familiar if that makes sense? Like they were mirrored, so her room was the same as mum’s and Jamie’s was the same as mine, then a third little bedroom that had room for a bed and that’s pretty much it. Jamie offered his room, but I didn’t want it. It felt wrong, somehow. And I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed to do any of it but he did everything. I think Georgie probably helped, but when it was all done, he brought me over and he’d decorated it just how I would’ve. Except he made a copy of his Roy Kent poster and stuck it on my wall, right next to one of his dumb headshots he liked so much. He slept in that little bed with me every night until he went back. We were nineteen at the time, right before he got signed for City. We loved that team. Used to watch it every time it was on the telly, and he always told me he’d play for them some day and take me to every match, even the away games.”

You trail off. You’ve run out of steam, back in the present reality. This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to look back fondly, to wonder how Georgie and Simon are.

Meanwhile, Keeley’s staring at you, openmouthed.

“Shit, babe,” she says.

“Shit,” you agree.

“How the fuck did he know you were crying?”

You wiggle your head back and forth. “Like I said, he said he felt it. I mean… sounds strange, but we used to be able to feel when things were wrong with each other. Even if we were in different places. We used to text and be like, ‘oi, you good?’ and every time, the answer was no. It’s like a nauseous feeling, you know?”

“No,” Keeley shakes her head. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Right,” you say, “I’m done being sober. Give me the fucking bottle.”

Keeley cheers and passes it your way. You take a swig and make a face. It still tastes like shit, but it’s better than trying to figure out the implications of Keeley’s five little words.

No. I don’t fucking know.

—

The next week, you’re slipping charms on a necklace for someone name Ashley, part of a set for a wedding party. You’ve had a steady stream of customers this weekend, many tourists from out of town passing through on their way to the heart of London. You check instagram in between sales and see that your location is getting tagged in stories and public posts, and you smile. 

The day passes by smoothly and by the time you lock up, it’s drizzling ever so slightly. You grin and step out the door, turning the lock then back around to head up the street. You run smack into someone and say, “Shit, sorry,” before realizing it’s fucking Jamie. You scoff and go to step around him but he puts himself in your path.

“I’m going back to Manchester,” he tells you without preamble.

“Gaffer sent me back. Thought you might want to know.”

“Okay,” you reply lightly, as if to a stranger, then duck past him again. You hurry away and risk a glance back. He’s still standing in the rain by your store, watching you walk away.

table of contents

[fanficfanattic]

Fic idea that is eating up my brain even though I have 17,000 other wips.

Keeley brings Jamie back to hers after the coffee stalking. Roy strong-arms him into explaining why the fuck he did the show. Which leads to both of them insisting he stays with them because going back to Manchester where his dad can find him is a bad idea.

Because of that emotional turmoil, he hasn’t yet asked Ted about returning. Ted is doing his best to get Roy to come aboard as a coach.

SO THEN:

Roy insists to Ted that the team gets together for a chat. Roy and Jamie both show up, and Roy says that Jamie wants to apologize and make amends. And explain at least a little bit of why he acted the way he did. Some of it was just him being him. But some of it was his dad’s influence.

Putting off Sam trying to become friends because he “doesn’t need friends” according to his dad. Etc.

Jamie is doing it. Says that’s a reason, not an excuse, and he knows the difference. At one point when he’s overwhelmed Roy puts his hand on his shoulder and that bolsters him to get through it all.

Someone finally asks why Roy and Jamie are here, acting like friends, and what the fuck is going on. (Isaac, one captain to another?)

And Roy explains that Ted wants him to coach, and he wants to make sure he puts his name on a team that gets promoted. The best way to do that is to bring Jamie back. Him being gone is what got them relegated.

But Jamie wouldn’t let him suggest coming back until he’d started to repair what he broke. Kind of stuns people that Jamie insisted on letting the team have a say.

Someone asks if taking on Jamie is the condition Roy has to joining. He goes to answer, perhaps even affirmatively, but Jamie answers first. Absolutely not. Just because he and Roy are involved doesn’t mean he’s giving Jamie any slack.

And then his eyes go wide when he realizes what he said. Roy is just looking at him somewhat surprised. Dani fucking gasped. Then demands to know why Roy would ever leave Keeley.

So he haltingly explains that he and Keeley are both dating Jamie. And that he lives with them now. And that he would have disclosed this to management before accepting a position.

Colin “But not to us? We’d just have to wonder why you were giving Jamie special treatment?”

Jamie, after snorting, “Mate, the only special treatment Roy’d give me is doing more laps or drills, not less. You think he’s bad when he doesn’t like you? It’s worse when he does. Expects a lot out of you.”

Roy grunts at that so Jamie smiles just for him and says “Worth it though, innit?”

[pepsi-maxwell]

a siren on the water, pulling you in

pairing: mjf & cm punk (gen but with canon typical obsessiveness) rating: T words: ~1100 prompt: @wrestleprompts week 3: a proposal on the beach

-

He’s single in San Francisco, but for all the nightlife the city has to offer, he doesn’t take advantage of any of it. Doesn’t go out, doesn’t have a big celebration, just stays in his hotel room icing his face, popping painkillers for his knee, unable to sleep because his mind’s still racing.

Until it gets to about four in the morning, when the buzzing in his head reaches a fever pitch and the urge to fucking go somewhere hits.

He doesn’t know how he ends up on a beach, his sneakers crunching against the pebbles. It smells like a port, in a way that makes him feel a little at home despite being on the opposite side of the country. There are lights flickering on the other side of the bay, and the waves lap gently against the shore, a quiet swash that he tries to focus on until it’s the only thing in his mind, washing everything else away. Calming, just by virtue of giving him nothing else to think about.

The footsteps coming closer on the stones don’t register until they come to a stop right next to him. Until there’s a shadow in his peripheral vision, and in the half-light of pre-dawn, he can just about make out heavily tattooed arms.

He’s too physically tired for this fight right now.

“Little cold to be out in short sleeves,” he says. The figure folds his arms across his chest, and Max shivers involuntarily in his tracksuit because it’s cold out here, on the waterfront, in fucking March. “But then, you spent, what, the whole week in ice baths, right?”

“I’d feign surprise that you’ve been keeping tabs on me, but… well, I saw your scrum performance. Nice look with the towel, by the way. They don't have muffins up here?” Punk says lightly.

Max scoffs, shoving his hands into the sleeves of his tracksuit. It’s not even that cold, Long Island gets worse, but he feels it more today. “You don’t get to this level of peak physical conditioning eating that sugary carb-heavy bullshit.”

Punk looks at him. He can’t see it, but he can feel it, feel his eyes on him.

Punk doesn’t say anything, but with his presence, it’s impossible to focus on the sound of the waves any more. The buzzing in his head returns, which means he needs a new sound to drown it out, and luckily, he has a lot of experience doing that with his voice.

“How’d you find me, anyway? You stalking me, now? That what you’re doing with all that fucking free time?”

What he means is, “Why are you here?”

What he means is, “How did you get up here so quickly?”

“The aura of desperation was just too potent to keep me away, I guess,” Punk says, kneeling to a crouch and picking up one of the larger pebbles surrounding him. It’s flat and angled well, and when Punk throws it with the intent to skim it, it hits the water and sinks like… well, like a stone, and Max can’t help his laugh.

“I could skim a rock better than that,” he cackles. “Then again, I’ve just proved I can do pretty much anything better, huh? Better sixty minute iron man match, better job at tearing off the Dragon’s wings, better championship reign full stop.”

The urge to keep him talking is as strong as ever. Keep him here. Keep him in sight, so he can’t fucking—crawl back to that pool he’s been marinating in.

“All doing your most elaborate impersonation attempt of me, yet. Should I start warning my neighbours in case you rock up at my house with a couple full sleeves of ink?” Punk grabs another rock, and this time, it flits across the surface three times before finally falling beneath. “You gonna start bleaching your hair, swear off the wine for good?”

Max pulls a face at the thought. He doesn’t even drink that much, but the thought of going fully straight-edge, the thought of wrecking his hair with dye, of being as sanctimonious as this asshole—

“You’re acting like nobody’s ever paid homage to someone who’s not around no more.”

He feels the weight of Punk’s gaze on him again. The sky’s getting lighter, fractionally, and he can see in enough definition that the skin on Punk’s arms is prickling with the chill.

“Am I? Not around any more?”

Max finally turns his head to look at him properly. Punk doesn’t look disappointed, or angry, or amused, just… like he’d asked an honest question. Like he’d asked for the time.

“Are you?” Max asks, answering his question with one of his own.

Punk smiles and ducks his head. Max looks away, stomach flipping. Watches a boat make its slow way across the bay, until the waves it leaves in its wake reach the shoreline.

“Guess not,” Punk says, after a long while. Long enough that Max has almost forgotten what his question was.

It’s the longest time he’s spent with Punk in any kind of quiet. Neither of them putting hands on the other. It feels wrong, and he’s still too exhausted to fight him properly, but maybe he can break this unsettling quiet, bring things a little closer to normality.

“You know, I wouldn’t have to, if you just—”

He cuts himself off because whatever he meant to say, it wasn’t that.

“If I just…?” Punk parrots.

Max shifts on his feet, stones crunching underneath, giving away his sudden nerves. 

“Come on, Max,” Punk says, needling him the way he’s so good at. “What are you proposing?”

God, he sounds like he actually wants to fucking hear it.

He turns his head to glance at Punk for a moment. It’s getting lighter, now, the sky turning a deep, beautiful blue, which means he sees every facet of the expression on Punk’s face.

Contentment. Like he’s comfortable here. At peace. With Max.

He bites the bullet. Takes a deep breath.

“Come back,” he says, heart pounding in his throat, and he can only be thankful he doesn’t stumble over his words. “And then maybe I won’t have to play your part any more.”

And Punk’s only answer is another secretive little smile. Max looks at him a moment longer before turning back to the bay, gazing out across the water as the sky goes from blue, to pink, to orange, to gold.

Punk continues to stand there, looking out over the water when Max turns and leaves, when the ache in his knee starts to return.

He wonders if Punk will still chase after him, this time around.

[seducipher]

something about @severepink 's mini-essay on adam (fantastic analysis btw check it out) knocked loose in my brain lilith's voice

and how that's definitely who alastor made a deal with.

like i KNOW it's been heavily implied but with the (garden) green magic and a voice that pervades all of hell? it's as good as confirmed for me.

like, alastor has such a red themed palette, and it looks like magic colors in this show typically match or complement the user's main colors, so where did this lime green come from? especially when a lot of alastor's marks and sigils appear as bright red in some lower-power scenes, but change to green when he really needs to pack a punch.

also the voice thing. lilith's voice pervaded hell in the beginning, it tracks that if she were lending her power to someone else it would take a similar route. plus, why would radio be so special? there's a lot to be thematically done with it, but it acts as the perfect, anonymous vessel for lilith's power.

personally i think lilith contracted alastor to kill lucifer, or at the very least replace him and let her be ruler of hell. that's why he ingratiates himself to charlie and supports her projects even when other overlords are very surprised with him doing so and think it's not like him to be so heartless. lucifer remains the most powerful being in hell (even moreso than lilith) but it was lilith who thrived there.

would you wanna live there, though?

i think lilith's power grew, she made a power grab to take heaven or take earth seven (haha just like genesis) years ago, and adam was the one who had to deal with it (either because lilith came for him first or sera deputized him). i think he let her stay in heaven on the condition that she quiet down and remove herself as a player, so she agreed (and had a vacay).

but of course here's this up-and-coming demon who seems pretty fucking ambitious. alastor may have approached her first, or she summoned him, but i think he came into the game pretty quickly as lilith's proxy so she can maintain distance but still get her work done. alastor gets to use her power to amass more of it and try to incapacitate lucifer.

what's alastor's endgame? idk, i think he's just weird as shit and likes to eat people or wants to go back to earth to accomplish something.

what's lilith's endgame? probably revenge on the people that gave her the two shittiest options from the get go: be with adam in a living hell or live in hell with lucifer.

[briamichellewrites]

84

Brad and Mike; Bradley and Bria; and Rob and Phoenix were on a triple date. Bradley was having fun getting to know her friends. Mike and Phoenix teased Rob about being the only vegan among them. He shot back by calling them murderers for eating meat. They laughed. It had been a few months but Brad was back in Los Angeles. Bria was four months pregnant and was feeling a lot better since her morning sickness had subsided.

She also had more energy. They were hopefully going to find out the gender at her next appointment. Rob didn’t necessarily want kids since he liked his quiet time, but he was interested in her pregnancy. There was something so beautiful about a woman when she was pregnant. Her stomach was starting to show from behind her shirt. She bought maternity clothes to keep her comfortable.

They sat in the back of the restaurant, though they were still photographed together. It was annoying but there was nothing they could do about it. A little kid around four years old came over and asked her why her belly was so big. She told him she swallowed too many watermelon seeds. His mother looked so embarrassed and she apologized. She didn’t think it was a big deal. They left quickly with her pushing him away. They laughed because it was adorable!

Her stomach wasn’t that big but little kids had zero filters. That would be Mike and Brad’s kid in a few years. She joked that if they were anything like her, they’d be in trouble.

“You said it. Not us”, Rob said.

“Fuck you.”

“No, thank you. I’m content with the boyfriend I have.”

They laughed. After a few months of dating, he and Phoenix started calling each other their boyfriend. He made the decision not to come out as gay or bisexual because it wasn’t anyone’s business. The band respected that. Mike was bisexual while Phoenix was gay. Sexuality didn’t matter to them because they were brothers no matter what.

They weren’t planning for the future, as they were just wanting to live in the moment. Brad and Mike were planning on getting engaged in the future. Maybe in a year or two. Bria and Bradley were also talking about getting engaged in the same time frame. Were they going to have any future kids? Maybe. It had to be the right time. Mike, Phoenix, and Rob were surprised to hear she had changed her mind. She had been against having kids because of her childhood.

She didn’t want to repeat the same choice her mother did. Maybe being in a healthy relationship and being pregnant convinced her. How many kids? Just one or two. That was all they could keep up with. Bradley also wanted a couple of dogs. The only condition she had was that they had to be cat-friendly. He agreed to that. Phoenix was also thinking of getting a dog.

Either a Rottweiler or a Labradoodle. How was Misty? She was as wonderful as always. How old was she? She was two years old. Her favorite thing to do was to bring him her food bowl when she was hungry. She also loved acting like a big baby and pretending like she couldn’t climb the stairs, so he would carry her. That’s adorable! They laughed. They should have a play date sometime with the cats and Misty. How were the cats? Oh my god.

They were two teenagers. Sometimes they liked her and sometimes they didn’t notice her until they were hungry. She joked that Brad had competition for Mama’s affection.

“Who is stealing my girl”, he asked.

“Bradley.”

“She just likes me for some reason”, he said with a smile.

“I can handle you dating Bria but stealing my cat, that’s going too far!”

“We can go outside and you guys can duke it out”, Phoenix joked.

“Nah, Bria will kick my ass”, Brad said.

Yes, she would! While talking about first dates, they learned she preferred meeting at a restaurant. How come? It let her see who the person truly was. It was something she picked up while escorting. A guy would be nice to her but rude to the waitstaff, the valet or whoever he thought was beneath him. It was also in public, so she could have an escape if her date didn’t go well.

They thought about that. It made a lot of sense. She didn’t tolerate rudeness or entitlement. Could she have left if her date was inappropriate or disrespectful to her? Oh, yeah. She could report them to the website and they would investigate. Thankfully, the only bad dates she had were guys who loved talking about themselves a little too much. They wouldn’t let her talk at all, so she had to pretend to be interested in him for a few hours.

After paying their part of the bill, they got ready to face the paparazzi waiting for them outside. How did they know where they were? Someone called in a tip. Maybe someone from the restaurant or another diner. Bradley took her hand into his. The six of them went out to their cars with lights flashing from the cameras. They pretended they didn’t notice them.

Rob and Phoenix hugged her. They all said goodbye to each other before they went their separate ways. Bradley made sure the paparazzi gave her enough space because he was scared about them hurting her or the baby. Back off! They stepped back but continued taking pictures of them. Another set of paparazzi were taking pictures of Brad and Mike, as they got into Mike’s car and drove away. They finally had a picture of his secret boyfriend.

“Are you okay”, Bradley asked her.

“Yeah. Thanks for having my back.”

He took her hand and kissed it. Brad apologized to Mike. He didn’t take into account they would be there. Mike wasn’t angry or upset with him. They would have found out who he was eventually. Phoenix and Rob were able to get away without being photographed. They had sympathy for their friends having to be photographed by the paparazzi just because they were out in public. Bradley and Brad were just normal people. They weren’t celebrities to them. Not anymore.

They had the privilege of privacy. The pictures were public the next day. They showed them having an evening out as friends. When they got home, the cats were wanting attention. Meow. She sat down on the couch. Sitting on the floor was dangerous because she didn’t know if she could get back up. She couldn’t even bend over to pick them up.

Slash jumped up and went over to her. Hi, human. He rubbed his face against her belly while purring. There was a tiny human inside. He could sense it. She petted him and scratched his head. Even though she had fun, she was tired and just wanted to relax before bed. Bradley came over and sat down next to her. That gave Mama a reason to join her brother in getting attention. He laughed and petted her. Bria rested her head on his shoulder. This is what happiness felt like. He kissed her head, making her smile.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[rexx-lapis]

His favorite little farmer// Bull!hybrid Shigaraki x Reader

-> You work as a care keeper in a farm specializing in caws and bulls hybrids. You love all of them but you just can’t help but caring a little bit more for your little Tomura, who in your eyes look so helpless. What you don’t know is that you’re not the only one having not so professional thoughts. So what happened when your favorite hybrid tells you he wants a mate.

Tags: Lot of smut and it’s intense. Bull hybrid Shigaraki. Mention of mating, of knotting. Anal, milking, prostate stimulation, use of toys, sub Shigaraki. Lot of cum. Dacryphylia. Jealous reader and possessive Tomura. Lot of fluff, they just love each other very much. Reader is gender neutral.

I’ve red @hanji-is-life post on bull Bakugou and Deku and I just got a huge brain rot :((

Shigaraki could spend hours just looking at you. From his stable, he loved watching you work, you were so pretty. You were working so hard in the farm, always carrying something and taking good care of the cows. He loved you so much, and that meant a lot because you were the only farm keeper that he allowed to get close to him. None of the others could approach him without getting nasty bites and all. Every bull had their favorite keeper. Bakugou, Kirishima and even Midoriya had their favorite but in the end they all took turn to take care of the bulls. But not you. You were his one and only. No one was mad at him for that, not even you. They all understood. He wasn’t like the others, as he arrived in the farm in a pitiful shape. He was deadly skinny, hurt, and traumatized, unable to let a human near him. Mistreatments towards hybrid were current even more in farms. But farms like he was right now was the proof that it was possible to met good people. You had been the one to take care of him when he arrived, you fed him, washed him, made sure he wasn’t cold. You even slept in the stale next to him to make sure he was okay during the night. Slowly he had warm up to you, as he was becoming a bit more healthy every day. He was still not the biggest bull of the farm but he looked so much better. All because you took care of him. And you were so understanding, taking his defense and never pressuring him into having interaction with others. The only person he needed was you anyway.

“Hi Tomu, how are you today?

-I’m fine... And you?

-I am doing great! The weather is perfect today!”

He smiled slightly, so happy you were here with him.

“Do you want to go outside for a bit? I’ll clean your stable as you go outside.

-Can’t I just stay here with you?

-Tomu, you need to go outside a bit.”

But he really wanted to stay with you. He knew you needed space to work and that he’ll be able to see you soon but he couldn’t help it.

“If you’re nice after you’re time outside I’ll groom you!”

He finally nodded, excited to come back so you can take care of him. You lead him to the outside field, choosing one that was empty, knowing he preferred to be alone. You waved at him goodbye, your hand brushing his shoulder. His ears fluttered and he blushed slightly. He watched you go back inside, noticing how your hips sway from right to left. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your ass until you disappeared behind a wall.

“So you gonna do something about that little farmer or?”

He turned around seeing Bakugou, Midoriya, and Kirishima, in the field next to his. He looked at the wood barrier that separated them from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

-Oh so she isn’t yours? You’re not interested?

-I didn’t say that”, he said firmly.

Of course you were his.

“Bakugou is right Shigaraki, look it worked out for us! I have no idea how, but somehow it worked out.

-It’s literally so easy for you, she is basically caring about you all the time.

Yeah! She is your personal keeper!”

He couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted you. So bad it sometimes kept him awake at night. Even more when he was seeing how the others all had their little mate for themselves. He was even more jealous when the rut season was coming in and that they all had their personal keeper to take care of it. That was maybe because they all were part of the breeder program. Maybe if he agreed to it, you would let him breed you. Just thinking about made him excited.

“You know how some of us had to battled to get them to let us claim them like that. Bakugou literally had to fight.

-Hey!

-It’s true, they had to put you in an isolated stable just because of it.

-He was in time out. Just like a little kid.

Do you want to die?”

Shigaraki stopped listening. But they were right. He needed to act up.

“Oi Tomu! Ready to go back ?” He turned toward your voice, to see you wave at him. He ran toward you, ready to go back.

“Guys, do y’all want to go back inside ?

-No thanks Y/n!

-Ok, be nice then”

You walked in front of him, and he realized how much you were swinging your hips. Maybe he was just noticing it now? Or maybe you were doing it on purpose? What if you were gonna go into heat soon?! No, humans did not have heat. Not that he knew about. He came back to a clean stable, a lot of food, and he even saw a few treats that were not supposed to be here.

“Shhh, don’t say anything. I don’t need to be accused of doing favoritism.”

He chuckled, getting ready for the grooming session. He couldn’t wait. And god he did not regret anything. Your gentle fingers were playing in his fur, detangling everything, you even braided the hair on his head , taking them away from his face. It felt so good. You applied the cream he needed for his skin condition around his eyes, smiling proudly. Your dropped to your knees in front of him suddenly, your face inches of his crotch. You were just checking his hooves, but fuck, he could feel himself get hard. It didn’t help that you started touching his thighs, squeezing them amazed.

“You become so strong Tomu, look at you”

Yeah he had become strong, for you, so you could be proud of him and proud to be his mate.

“Y/n?

-Yes?

-I would like to become a breeder.”

You stopped your movement, staying silent.

“Y/n?

-Y-eah sorry. Hm of course you can. It’s normal. You need a mate after all.”

Ah. There has been a misunderstanding.

“I have to go. I’ll let you know when we’ll start the program okay?”

You almost ran out of the stable, leaving him alone and sad. Fuck, why didn’t he simply told you he needed you. He didn’t need a mate, he needed you to be his mate. He felt like breaking the door and running after you. Maybe he should have followed Bakugou’s method and just tell you right up that he needed to knot you. No definitely no... He really hoped he didn’t made you sad, or that you were mad at him. It would kill him.

Your heart was clenching in your chest. What was even that pain? Why did you felt like someone had stabbed you. It was stupid, you knew that day would come. It was selfish of you to react like this. It was in his nature, he needed a mate. You already had blocked him enough. You still cried under the shower this same night. The next day you found yourself talking with your colleagues about it. Most of the bull who were used for reproduction, didn’t have any contacts with the cows. They often were violent and cows were too precious for this. But the softer ones had the chance to chose a mate and actually have a physical relationship with them. That would probably be the case for Shigaraki you thought. You needed to ask him what he thought of it. You arrived at his stable, surprised not to see him look at you. He was always up at this hour normally. You called his name, but he didn’t answer. Worried you opened his stable, just to find him laying down on the hay.

“Tomura is everything okay?”

You looked around, noticing he had not eat any of the thing you had gave him yesterday. Worried you kneeled next to him, touching his shoulder gently. He did not react, but you still heated a little noise. A sob.

“Tomu, love, tell me what’s wrong, please I’m so worried...”

He turned around a bit and you could see he had cried, his pretty red eyes puffy. You even noticed how his neck and under eyes seemed to be red, like he scratched it.

“I’m sorry Y/n. I made you sad.

-No, Tomu, you didn’t. What are you talking about.

-Yesterday. You left upset with me. I hate it. I can’t live with you being upset.

-I was not upset baby. It’s all my fault. I was selfish by reacting like this. But it’s totally normal to want a mate. Tomu, baby, you don’t have to care about me.

-But I don’t want a cow, I want you.

-What?”

He sat down, looking at you in the eyes.

“If I told you I wanted to be a part of the program it just because I wanted you to help me. Like the others are doing. I don’t want to breed anyone. Just you.”

Your heart was going to explode. He wanted you, you thought. You heart was swelling from happiness.

“Y/n, don’t cry please” he cried out panicking.

“No baby it’s fine. I’m just happy. Fuck, I would love to help you.”

He took you in his arms, almost tackling you to the ground. All you could hear was little “don’t cry” coming from him.

You ended up leaving him alone, as you still made sure he was eating correctly. He suddenly seemed way more relaxed, even though you could see a deep blush on his cheeks. His little ears were fluttering and his tail was moving from right to left excitedly. You busied yourself all day, not seeing Shigaraki much. Bakugo and Midoriya had break into a fight and you and an other helper had to take them away from each other. Midoriya told you that his rut was going to come soon and that he couldn’t stand when Bakugou came too close from one of your colleagues. The worst was that Bakugou had no interest in them, he had his own favorite keeper, he just liked to mess with Deku. You decided that those two won’t be having any contacts until their rut had passed. You reassured Deku that his s/o was fine and that they’ll come see him soon. You put him in a stable far away from the others, where he would be in a calm environment. You finally finished your day way later than usual. You were exhausted and felt like you needed a thousand showers. But you still decided to go and see how Shigaraki was doing before going to sleep. When you arrived he was already looking for you, his eyes shining as he saw you getting closer.

“Oi Y/n! You look tired .... What happened

- We had to separate Midoriya and Bakugou earlier, they are going into rut. So I had a lot of work. It was a long day.”

You saw him look at you with more attention, his eyebrows knitted tightly. He looked a bit mad when he approached his head from you, his little nose pressed against your neck, you jolt in surprise when you felt the metal of his septum piercing against your neck.

“You smell like him....

-Like who?

-Deku...

-Well I worked with him so...

-I don’t like it. Normally you smell more like me...”

He never acted territorial toward you before. Maybe it was because of your new arrangement. You would need to talk to him about it, even if you new it was probably useless. None of the other bulls had been reasonable till now. You doubted he would be an exception. You finally left him, promising him to take a shower as soon as you were home and to come back the day after smelling all clean. You’ve never been that happy to leave in the house near the farm. A bunch of other keepers had decided to leave here together as it was cheaper and so close from work. You took a shower like promised and ate something before going to bed. Before going to sleep, you decided to do a bit of research. You knew how breeding worked. You had to supervise the thing a few time which had mortified you at first. Now you learned how to get detached and let the hybrids do their things while you were working somewhere else. But the “milking” part of the process kinda made you worried. You never had that much intimacy with an hybrid. You knew some of your colleagues had and that they even went further than just the milking. There was nothing wrong with that. It was actually pretty common between hybrids and humans. But you were a shy person, in that area at least. Thinking about just touching Shigaraki like that made a wave of arousal travel through your body. You didn’t know if you were supposed to feel like this. Maybe he wasn’t asking for this. He just wanted you to do this as a professional. And you were here, thinking about it as if you were talking about your boyfriend. After re reading the method a few time, the last thing you wanted was to hurt him in some way, you went to sleep, head full of a certain hybrid.

Shigaraki slept way better than the night before, but he was still annoyed about the smell situation. Maybe he should start senting you. After all you were his. He knew he was starting to get into his rut too. Soon every bull around here would be in the same situation. It was spring so it was expected. But this time he would spend it with you and fuck he couldn’t help but be happy about it. He woke a bit early so he would clean his stable, he didn’t want to make it look messy for when you’ll come. He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn’t help it. He even cleaned himself, making sure nothing was caught in his fur. He felt suddenly so hot, he couldn’t wait for you to come. Maybe it was the general tension in the air. Knowing that there was other bull in rut around here. It made him crazy. Why couldn’t you just hurry? Maybe you weren’t even gonna do anything today. What if he got his hopes up and you weren’t planning on doing anything today? He looked at how hard he was becoming, kinda embarrassed.

“Hey Tomu!”

He jumped at the sound of your voice. You looked so pretty today. You looked pretty every day but he couldn’t point his finger on what made you look so beautiful today. Maybe it was the way you styled your hair, the makeup you wore when you usually didn’t.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. Didn’t you hear me come your way?” You chuckled.

He had to have you, he thought.

“So Tomu, I wanted to ask you when you wanted to start the breeding program. Bakugou and Midoriya are already in rut, normally yours start soon after, doesn’t it?

-It’s starting I think...”

His voice was quiet and you could see the blush on his cheeks and how he seemed more tense than usual.

“Oh okay... I’m gonna take your temperature and I’ll see from there.”

You placed the little tube on his tongue, waiting a minute before looking back. Yeah he was definitely entering his rut.

“ Ok Tomu, I’m gonna get ready and I’ll be back. We should wait till you’re completely in heat to start. Do you need me to explain how the procedure work?”

You were speaking so much words and he wasn’t even listening to them. He could only concentrate on your face, watching your lips move. He took a deep breath and he could smell you. So strong. You smelled so good.

“Don’t leave now, fuck, I need you”

You seemed conflicted for a bit.

“Ok I’ll be back in a minute, I swear it’ll be quick but I need to get something”

You didn’t let him answer as you were already leaving. He was gonna die if you didn’t come back quickly. None of his rut had been that hard on him before. It generally was longer than it was intense and it took a all day to settle down. But today his entire body was on fire and he was already so hard. You ran as fast as you could toward the office. You had let everything you needed there. You never grabbed a bag so fast, the other hybrids were looking at you weirdly when they saw you running through the farm. You came back to Tomura’s stable finding him on his knees, his cock in his hand .

“Y/n... fuck please”

He looked so gorgeous. His cock was an angry red, leaking precum like crazy. You dropped to your knees, next to him trying to comfort him a bit. You needed to get him in position so you could prep him, but he didn’t look like he wanted to move. He couldn’t stop pumping his length, not being able to cum.

“Ok I need you to get on your knees baby, you can do this for me?”

He whined but still did what you told him. He was arching his back, his cute little ears were flat against his hair. His tail was swiping in the air almost hitting you. You took the bottle of lube, squirting some on your gloved hands. He was too far gone to see anything at this point but you still wanted him to know what was going to happen. You lubbed the the upper part of what looked like a suction cup, making sure the milking tool won’t hurt him. You touch his shoulder making him look at you. You almost moan when you saw his red cheeks, teary eyes, drool almost dripping out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna put this on you baby, are you ready?

-No I want you. Not that please Y/n!

-This first, I promise I’m gonna touch you, I’ll make you feel really good.”

He didn’t say anything, you were already grabbing him in your hand. He was so heavy, throbbing against your palm. Fuck he would feel so good inside you. You stroked him a few times not being able to resist seeing him cry and buck his hips in your hand. You placed the lubbed part against his tip, his eyes falling on your hand.

“What is it?” He asked his voice quiet.

“It will help you... stay stimulated...It’s the same process we used for the cows”

It indeed looked the devices that were used to milk the cows. You pushed it down his length, watching it get swallowed. You watched Tomura, watching his eyes rolled in his head, tongue out of his mouth. Fuck you wish that was you. You wish you were the one making him feel this good.

“Ok baby, now I’m gonna touch you ok?

-Yes more !”

He threw his ass in the air, his hooves hitting the ground hard. You touched his fur, silky against your palm. Your hand caress the curve of his ass, gently spreading his cheeks.

“Y/n!

-Yes?

-W- why are you touching me there?

He didn’t had the time to answer before you push one finger inside. He gasped, throwing his head back.

« Y/n ! F-fuck »

You forgot everything when you saw him starting to rock his hips,your finger getting deeper inside him. You slowly put another finger in, his flesh already so tender you did not met any resistance. You crooked you fingers inside, your finger tips digging into his flesh’ hitting his sweet spot hard. He screamed, arching his back cumming so hard it made his entire body shake. He kept cumming as you didn’t stop moving your fingers.

« More! Please more! »

You added a new finger, the third one stretching him wide.

« Fuck, Tomura, you came so hard you’re so good. Your little hole is swallowing my fingers »

He moaned, clenching more and you looked at the tube seeing more and more cum dripping inside.

«  I’m gonna milk you hard love, you’re so pretty like this fuck »

The words were just coming out of your mouth shamelessly at this point. You knew it was not professional, but you couldn’t help it. He was driving you crazy, his pretty face was flushed, his eyes full of tears, lips bitten red and all wet with drool.

« I can’t stop! It feels too good, can’t stop- »

His voice was broken, and he was trusting his hips, making harder and harder for you to hold him down.

« I want to be inside you, please Y/n! Please! I want to cum inside- »

You wanted that to, so bad, but you knew you couldn’t right now.

« A little more love »

He was shaking from all his limbs. Your fingers started to get tired from all this, but with a final twist of your wrist, you pressed three fingers hard against his flesh, making him collapsed from pleasure.

« Too much, it hurts, please »

He was shaking on the ground, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. You stopped the movement with your fingers. You let him go of the equipment, finally freeing his cock. You looked at the machine, impressed by the amount of cum.

« Tomu are you okay? »

He nodded slowly, smiling as he felt your hand on his hair.

“It still feels good...

-I didn’t hurt you right?

-No...”

You took him in you arms, laying in the hay with him, murmuring in his ear how much you loved him. He looked so vulnerable right now, but here he was, his face pressed against your chest, breathing calmly. You kissed the top of his head, smiling as well.

“I love you, my mate” he said, pressing his lips against his neck.

“I love you too.”

You looked down at him, seeing his eyes closed, his breathing study. You needed to take the material back and to start cleaning, but you felt so good right now. Maybe it could wait a little bit more.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love Pt. 2 (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T? Maybe? Almost the exact opposite of the first one. Language, minor violence Genre: Fluff, mainly, with admittedly a little bit of humor? I blame my lack of sleep. And my adhd. Warnings: Implied cannibalism adjacent activities because guess what honey, this is a fucked up family, what do you expect of me??? Sure, they have breakfast in this, there's cute stuff, but c'mon, they don't eat flowers and oatmeal! Notes: Doubt it needs to be said, but this is a sequel to the good ending of part one. Also Cass has one line in this that might be OOC, or seem oddly placed, but admittedly this chapter is also loosely based on a dream I had, and I couldn't not include the few direct quotations I remembered, and she seemed the most likely to say the line. And yes, there will be a part 3, because I am weak and also kind of maybe made this one less plot-moving than intended.

{Wounded Love: The re-woundening}

Every step ached more than the last, even with Alcina supporting you. She had wanted to carry you down the stairs, of course, but you had insisted that you would be fine. Now you were just determined not to complain out loud. One yelp or cry and you’d be scooped up in her arms, surely to be carried for the rest of the day. As much as you appreciated your girlfriend’s assistance, you hated feeling useless, and hated putting a burden on others. So here you were, one arm wrapped around Alcina’s waist, limping ever-so-slowly towards the dining room.

Further ahead (unburdened by your injury) the three Dimitrescu daughters talk among themselves, voices hushed as they too headed for breakfast. It was odd to see them all awake, and socializing, as there was usually at least one who came to meals late. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with your condition… or the circumstances that had caused it.

Less than eighteen hours had passed since your fight with a stray lycan, and tension had been high since. While you hadn’t yet spoken to the sisters, you had spoken to Alcina, who had briefly mentioned their concern for you. Whether they actually cared about you as a person or just cared because you are dating their mother is unclear. Based on how they had acted while treating your wounds, though, you were inclined to think that they were fond of you. And seeing as Alcina had already vowed to get revenge on your behalf… well, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her daughters intended to assist.

“Careful on the last step, dear,” Alcina says, positioned as to catch you if you fell. It takes a little willpower to resist the urge to hop down the rest of the way. As long as you landed on your uninjured leg, it wouldn’t even be that bad. Still, irritating your girlfriend first thing in the morning felt like a pretty stupid thing to do. Instead you just nodded, slowing down even more, and took visible care not to trip. “Good girl.”

Well, you certainly couldn’t say that being careful didn’t have its rewards.

“I have my moments,” you replied, blush rising to your cheeks. Suddenly your pain didn’t feel so bad (at least until you took another step and winced). “Damn, who woulda thought that cutting a chunk out of my leg would make it hurt more?” The leg in question throbbed in pain, as if to prove your point, protesting the weight you put on it. Changing the angle at which you stood helped some, allowing the lower half of the limb to bear more of the burden.

“Dearest…” Alcina starts to say, looking like she was going to readdress her desire to carry you. For a moment you try to avoid her gaze, but she moves in front of you, making sure that you could still hold onto her for support. “I know how you feel, how you want, desperately, to be independent. When I was first… granted this gift, it took a long time to adjust. There was so much I had to relearn how to do, so much that I suddenly needed done for me.” A pause, a deep breath. At last you look up at your girlfriend, warmth in your heart, reaching out to hold her hand. “You have time, my dear, and plenty of it. More than that… this will not last forever. The more you push yourself, the longer your recovery will take. Now, please, allow me to assist. You have already proven how strong you are.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain… but if you insist, who am I to decline? Or, well, who am I to decline twice in a row?” You answer, somewhat begrudgingly. It wasn’t much farther to the dining room, you figured, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss to accept help. Or at least that was what you told yourself. Even with Alcina’s encouragement it was so hard for you to accept her help. After all, you were the one that worked for her. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat responsible for your injury- really, you were actively avoiding thinking about that.

It’s much easier to forget once Alcina carefully picks you up. One arm goes under your legs, the other under your chest, lifting you without any effort. You might as well have been a kitten or a child’s toy. The movement does, however, shift your injured leg in such a way that it aches. At this point you can hardly move the limb at all without it hurting, and even the slightest friction against the bandage makes your eyes water.

Apparently someone would be delivering some painkillers later in the day. You assumed it would be The Duke (whose name is apparently not Doug, as you had thought), seeing as he knew some special way to get to and fro without risking the same fate that had befallen you. Which, of course, made you feel a lot better. Getting someone else hurt would weigh on your mind forever.

Regardless, you were safe now, as was your strange, bloody little family. Before long you would even be enjoying a pleasant meal together. Certainly that would help get your mind off of your wound? For now, though, you were met with an unexpected impasse. The sort of impasse that really, really should have been expected.

“Why… is the doorway… so small?” You asked, jokingly, as you stare into the mildly embarrassed face of your girlfriend. It’s already hard enough for her to crouch through the gap normally. When she’s carrying you? Impossible. “Can we ask Mother Miranda for bigger doors? She gave you eternal life and also three kids, she’s gotta be capable of making bigger doors. Put me down, I’ll go call her and-”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Alcina cuts you off, not fully appreciating this part of your humor. Or maybe she had already asked for bigger doors, only to be told no?... Okay, yeah, it was probably the first option. With a sigh she sets you down, as gently as she can manage. Ready and raring to go, you start to hobble forward, only to find all three of the daughters waiting for you, just beyond the door. They’re grinning as they watch you, and Bela extended her arm to offer her help. “What appears to be the matter?” Alcina asks from behind you. Accepting your fate and Bela’s arm, you let the sisters guide you to the table, Cassandra holding your other side, and Daniela pulls your chair out for you. Honestly it’s pretty adorable. Evidently your girlfriend agrees, from the way she smiles as she follows.

“Thank you,” you say, more out of reflex than genuine gratitude. Again, you weren’t thrilled about needing this assistance. If the girls notice they’re at least polite enough not to mention it. They simply move to their own seats at the large table, eager to dig in. It feels… strange, to be here, on this side of things. Stranger still to realize you’re the only one intending to eat actual food. There’s wine in your glass, but it’s a much fainter red than those you’ve previously served to your girlfriend. Thank goodness, you think, after how raw my throat was yesterday, I really don’t need to taste any more blood.

Once Lady Dimitrescu sits down, the meal formally begins, with several maidens appearing from the kitchen. Several seem relieved to see you, although surprised, and one even gave you a brief smile. The smile did not last, however. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the nature of her job, the pressures that it put upon her. No one smiled at mealtimes. Well, no maidens, that is. They simply moved around, wordlessly, faces blank, doing exactly as instructed. Only a few days ago you had been among them, fear keeping you in line. Was it wrong of you to care for Alcina, knowing what she was capable of doing to others? Knowing what she might have, in another life, done to you?

A maiden places a plate of warm food, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit, in front of you. For a moment your eyes meet, but she looks away instinctively. Your heart threatens to break.

“This looks wonderful, thank you for your hard work, all of you,” you speak up, glancing at each of the women working so hard. There’s more you want to say that dries in your throat; you are valued, you are deserving, someday I will join your ranks again.

“You don’t need to thank them, they’re just doing their jobs,” Cassandra chimes from the other side of the table. Hearing her say that damn near makes you drop your fork. It’s not an uncommon settlement, particularly among older generations and the rich, but one that irks you nonetheless.

“They’re doing my job. They are taking on extra work, for no pay, because I am injured. Why would I be so cruel as to ignore them? Have I not toiled alongside them enough to call them my kin?” You ask, struggling to keep your voice even. Next to you Alcina is slowly cutting into her meat, watching the scene unfold out of the corner of her eyes, perhaps considering when to step in. On the other end of the table, Bela looks increasingly uncomfortable, as if silently willing her sister into silence. None of the maidens have reacted to what you said, likely too afraid of Cassandra to even consider speaking.

“Ooooh, this is much more fun than our usual breakfasts,” Daniela says, stifling a giggle. “Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share? Preferably ones that aren’t about me.” At this, Alcina sets her utensils down, clearly intending to put an end to the discussion. Unfortunately for her, you were a bit… impulsive, especially considering the previous night’s activities had left your mind struggling to cope.

“Dead lycans smell terrible. Literally the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, easily, no question about it,” you answer, shrugging a little as you do. It’s such a simple thought that you almost don’t realize how the others at the table react. Until the clatter of silverware on the table catches your attention, that is. All three sisters are eying you with different expressions (Bela is confused, Cass is impressed, and Daniela looks shocked). But it’s Alcina’s wide-eyed stare that gets you to elaborate. “Should I have said ‘a dead lycan’? I only got one, so I guess I shouldn’t say they all smell bad. C’mon, though, they have to all smell bad, right?”

Suddenly Daniela shifts from shock to pure amusement, a fit of giggles overtaking her. You’re still confused, not sure what the matter was, so you just sip your wine and hope someone asks the right questions.

“You… killed the lycan that attacked you?” Bela finally says, after a few moments of her sister laughing, expression still incredulous. When you nod she sort of shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “May I ask how you managed that?”

“Oh, you know, I just meh meh-” you mime a stabbing motion with your fork- “until the stupid thing stopped moving. I had to use a tree branch as a weapon, but then it broke after a few whacks, which actually helped because then I had two stabbing implements to, you know, stab with. That’s right around when it got my leg, and it tried to bite me. Thankfully it wasn’t very smart, so when it leapt at me I just hyah-” this time an upwards strike- “right into its neck. That didn’t kill it, but it was enough to slow it down, which allowed me to stab the other half of the branch into its skull. Made this horrible, horrible sound as it died. Seeing as we are eating, I will not imitate the sound. Not that I could, now that I think about it…”

Once again there’s silence. Even Daniela has quieted now, and is watching you with rapt interest, likely hoping that you’re hiding another story up your sleeves.

“So… did you guys actually think that I managed to run away from the lycan? Or were you under the impression that it simply got bored of me and left?” You ask, casually returning to your breakfast afterwards. No one says anything, at first, taking in your words as best as they can. A few moments later both Daniela and Bela resume their meal, as nonchalant as one could be in the current situation. Alcina, however, rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with a loving look.

“You will never cease to amaze me, my dear. But let us ensure you never have to… smell, or see, one of those wretched things again, yes?” She says, softly squeezing you as she does. You can’t help but agree, and nod eagerly, mouth too full of hashbrowns to speak. Still, there’s been a shift in the atmosphere of the room. It’s not that the family didn’t respect you before, as far as you can tell, but they evidently hadn’t expected you to prove as capable as you had. It brings a sense of pride to the forefront of your mind, making you completely forget about your injury for the remainder of the meal.

Unable to stop yourself, you insist on helping the other maidens clean up, and Alcina eventually agrees to let you wash a few dishes- as long as you stay sitting the entire time. The last thing you hear before you shuffle off to the kitchen is the start of a conversation between Cassandra and her mother.

“You picked quite a feisty one, didn’t you?”

“That I did, that I did…”

[thisbeatchachinglikemoney]

Just One Day

Part 11 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Someone from her past comes back

Warnings: Physical abuse, mental abuse, rape, swearing, kidnapping, hostage situation, suicidal thoughts

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18​, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles​

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys! Also, happy FESTA!!

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO GET QUITE DARK SO IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION OR DON’T READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Jungkook stretched and hummed in his chair as he saved the last copy of the song he was working on, his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach to the air conditioning that was circulating crisp, cold air around the room. He preferred his studio to be quite cold while he was working late as it would keep him awake, to the point where he would lose track of time and would only go home because one of his hyungs told him to either by calling him incessantly until he picked up or actually dragging him out of his studio.

He grabbed his bag from the couch behind him and began packing everything up quickly, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Y/N and love her with everything he had. He grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. It was just past midnight. His gorgeous girl had left just under two hours ago and he felt bad because he had promised he would be an hour at the most. He made sure everything was properly turned off and logged out. He pushed his chair back under his desk with his foot before moving out of the studio and locking the door behind him.

He knew that when he got home everyone would be asleep. They normally stayed up until everyone was home, but if Y/N had told the others that he was close behind then they would have gone to bed, knowing that he would be back soon. He said a quick goodbye to the night guards before moving into the parking lot and getting into his car.

He drove quickly but carefully back. The streets of Seoul were quite quiet since it was the middle of the night, but it was something Jungkook found quite relaxing. He loved the glimmering of the streetlights and neon shop lights against the dark sky. There were no stars tonight - it was too cloudy, but Seoul made up for that, the lights on the tips of the skyscrapers becoming artificial stars. He wanted to take Y/N out for a date like this, driving through Seoul and then eating junk food on the hood of his car somewhere secluded while looking at the sky and scenery, enjoying each other’s presence. He would do that with her soon, when his schedule wasn’t as hectic.

He pulled into the underground parking lot of the group’s flat and jogged to their apartment, not being able to keep away from his gorgeous girl any longer. He needed her in his arms. 

He unlocked the door and toed off his shoes, instantly being met with the sight of his hyungs sat together in the living room and no Y/N in sight.

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, getting up and embracing the boy before taking hold of his ear and twisting it. Jungkook yelped in pain.

“I was in the Golden Closet. Didn’t Y/N tell you?” Jungkook moved to cup his ear to help with the pain but Yoongi stopped his hand. “Speaking of, where is my gorgeous girl?”

“We thought she was with you, Kook.” Hoseok replied.

“But she left before me, like two hours ago. Sejin-ssi picked her up. She said she would come straight here, hyung.” Jungkook explained, biting at his thumb nervously. His head was instantly filled with negative thoughts. Which if their car had been hijacked by saesangs? What if they had been in an accident?

“Jungkook!” Yoongi yelled, getting his attention. “I asked you a question?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t hear you, can you please repeat it?” Jungkook took a shaky breath, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack.

“I said are you sure Sejin-ssi picked her up?” Yoongi repeated himself.

“I don’t know, I think so. He did text me saying he had got her.” Jungkook collapsed on one of the sofas, holding his head in his hands. “Hyung, what if they got in an accident? What if a saesang intercepted the car?”

“Hey, hey, Yoongi hyung, calm down, you’re scaring him.” Namjoon said, putting his hands on the older’s shoulders and sitting him down. “Okay, now, Kook you need to calm down, okay? Don’t panic.” He noticed the maknae’s breathing speeding up and tears streaming down his face.

“I should have left with her when she said she was tired. I shouldn’t have stayed later. I just wanted to finish the song. It was me who suggested it.” Namjoon sighed and sat down, pulling the younger boy onto his lap.

“How about we call her? It’s most likely that she asked Sejin to stop for ice cream or something like that. You know how much of a sweet tooth she has.” Namjoon suggested, rubbing the maknae’s back to calm him down. He hated seeing him this upset. 

“We can’t call her. She left her phone.” Jungkook said. “I should have followed her. I should have chased after her and given it to her when I realised she had left it. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” More tears poured down his face, his doll-like lips becoming pouted. 

“Hey, no, you aren’t. We’ll just call Sejin, okay.” Namjoon reassured him. “Jungkook, you are not a terrible boyfriend. You are amazing. She loves you so much.” Namjoon looked over to the rest of the members. “One of you call Sejin-ssi. I’m going to get Kookie some comfortable clothes and then try and calm him down, okay?”

“I’ll call him.” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone. He tapped a few things on the screen and put the call on speaker. The ringing tone filled the room for a few moments before someone picked up. “Sejin-ssi?”

It was silent before someone spoke. Someone who was definitely not Sejin. “Hmm, no, how about you try again?” The person replied, making Jimin look up at his hyungs with wide eyes. 

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi asked, his voice firm and serious. There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone and a noise that sounded like a whimper of pain.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” The man sounded menacing. Jungkook gulped and looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes full of fear. Yoongi looked like he was ready to murder someone, and Jungkook knew that he was going to take the main brunt of his anger.

“Jackson?” Yoongi had no emotion in his voice. This happened when he was really scared or really angry. It was like his body shut down any way he could be seen as weak. 

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” His voice was quieter like he wasn’t talking into the phone. “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” There was a loud thud and a cry of pain.

“Jackson stop! Please!” They heard you beg. Jungkook bit his lip, not wanting to hear his girlfriend being hurt and not being able to do anything about it. 

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” There was a slap and a stifled shout. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.”

“Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.” Yoongi shouted just before the call was ended. There was a beep. Jimin shouted in frustration and threw his phone across the room.

“This is all my fault.” Jungkook whispered to himself.

“Damn right it is!” Yoongi shouted, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. “Why would you not go with her? How could you let her go by herself! What the actual fuck, Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-” 

“You never do! You only do what you want to do! You’re so selfish, Jeon Jungkook!” Yoongi was seething. Jungkook gulped. “Your sorry doesn’t fix anything! She is gone! She is back with that pathetic excuse for a man and is probably not going to make it! You know what she told me? If she was ever with Jackson again, she was going to kill herself! So tell me, Jungkook, what are you going to do? You’ve sent her down the river to her death! Because of you, she’s going to die!”

“Hyung!” Namjoon yelled, making Yoongi drop Jungkook. The maknae skittered away. There was a slam and then silence. “What the hell are you doing? You know how sensitive he is!” Namjoon was angry. 

“Jackson has her, Joon. He intercepted Sejin and kidnapped her. He was beating her on the phone.” Yoongi’s voice was shaky. “And it’s all Jungkook’s fault. He should have left with her. He knows that Jackson is out there!”

“How the hell would Jungkook have known Jackson would have the balls to do something like this?” Namjoon asked with an edge to his voice. “He called Sejin to make sure she wasn’t walking home by herself! If he really didn’t care about her, he would have let her make her own way home.”

“If he cared about her, he would have taken her home himself!” Yoongi wasn’t having any of it. In his eyes, Jungkook was at fault here. 

“Look, you’re angry and scared. We all are. But that does not give us the right to argue with each other. We need to stick together if we want to get her back.” Namjoon said, remaining calm. He had to. If he fell apart, they all fell apart. “You need to go and cool off. Go to your room and calm yourself down, and then you need to apologise to Jungkook. You’re his hyung, Yoon, and he needs you right now.”

Yoongi looked at his younger member and sighed. Namjoon was right. They couldn’t afford to be arguing with each other. It would make everything a whole lot worse.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet. 

“Come on, hyungie. I think you need some Jiminie cuddles.” A small hand took his and pulled him up to his room. “Namjoon hyung, can you call the police, please.” Namjoon pointed to his phone and nodded. 

Jimin lay down on Yoongi’s bed and opened his arms. “I’m the big spoon this time.” He said. Yoongi nodded and climbed onto the bed, settling into Jimin’s arms. It was then he allowed the wall to come down and dissolved into tears.

“She said she was going to kill herself, Min.” Yoongi sobbed. “She said she wouldn’t be able to handle being with him for any longer. I don’t. I can’t deal with losing her. I won’t be able to deal with losing her.”

“It will be okay, hyung. Joonie hyung is on the phone with the police now and since he has Sejin’s phone, they will be able to track it and see where they are. PD-nim had a tracker installed into the phone that can’t be turned off in case Sejin ever got kidnapped or we did. They’ll find her.”

“Yes, but if they find her, will they actually find her, or will she just be the shell of herself?” Yoongi said, resting the side of his head on Jimin’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

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

Silence. Darkness. Pain. 

The never ending cycle that Y/N was going through. Whatever Jackson had used to knock her out had caused the worse headache. It throbbed, each wave of pain being stronger than the last. She winced as she came around.

Her eyes felt like they were glued together. She tried to open them, but failed. Her eyelids felt too heavy. She also knew that if she opened them she would be faced with the impending doomed reality she was forced to deal with. The reality where she was back with Jackson and had been ripped away from her happy life with her boys.

It was then the most horrible thought flashed through her mind. What if it had all been a dream? What if she had made it all up? Those months where all her fear for Jackson had fizzled out, thinking she was safe? It was a false sense of security. In what world would BTS, the biggest boygroup in the world, be her soulmates? In what world would she deserve seven soulmates? There would only be one way to test if it was real. She had to open her eyes and see if everything was greyscale or full color. 

She tried to open her eyes again, but failed. Had he glued her eyes shut? She reached up and felt along her eyelashes. It was crusty but it wasn’t sticky. She pried open her eyelids, pulling them apart with her fingers. She hissed slightly. 

Her eyelids were unstuck now, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to open them if the past months had just been a dream. Just open them Y/N, she thought to herself, just open them. You never know. 

“Please don’t be grey. Please don’t be grey.” She whispered to herself, gingerly opening her eyes.

She looked around, realising that she was back in that bedroom. Her mother’s lamp was still on the bedside table, although there was a small dark brown stain on it now. Dark brown. That was a color. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going well. 

“Look who’s up.” A voice drawled. She looked over to the door and saw Jackson lounging against the frame, a belt idly swinging between his fingers. She gulped.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She glared at him, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head. 

“Because I love you and you love me.” Jackson shrugged. “You belong with me, not with them.”

“I don’t love you, Jackson. I haven’t for a long while.” She spat.

Jackson gasped animatedly. “Someone has some nerve talking to me like that. Where are your manners? Guess I need to teach you again. Kneel and face the bed.”

Y/N ignored him, trying to stand up to him and show him that she wasn’t weak anymore and that she knew her worth and wasn’t scared of him. He slapped the belt across her face. Thankfully he was holding the buckle, but the impact still hurt. She cried out as he pulled her up by her hair and forced her into a kneeling position.

“Listen to me, stupid bitch.” He hit her harshly with the belt. “Just a few months away from me and all your training is gone. Looks like I’ll just have to be harsher with you.” He added a few more hits before throwing his belt somewhere else in the room. “Get on the bed.” He pulled her up by her hair, making her hiss in pain. “Now if you make a sound, I will make this so much worse for you.” He threatened.

Y/N gulped and nodded, allowing him to force her into a position on the bed. Her back and shoulders hurt so much. He forced her onto her hands and knees. He groaned. “Now that is a sight I have missed.” He rubbed his hands over her ass.

Y/N’s heartbeat sped up and her breathing quickened. Was he about to rape her? She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed onto her hips. “Stop!” He shouted, hitting her back over one of the open wounds from his belt. She cried out and crumpled forwards. He pressed his hips against her. “See how much I’ve missed you.” He was hard against her. She didn’t want this.

“Get away from me. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“I said no talking!” A harsh smack to her inner thigh followed before he ripped off her panties. She silently scolded herself for wearing a skirt. If she had been wearing jeans she would have been able to fight against this better. She would have had more time. She sobbed as she heard him push his jeans down. Before he could do anything to her, a phone started ringing.

“Fuck sake.” He groaned, answering it as he stroked over her lower back and thighs.

“Sejin-ssi?” It was Jimin. Y/N felt some relief flood through her body. She knew that Sejin had an unremovable tracker built into his phone that could not be switched off and she knew Jackson had no knowledge of it. Jackson dug his nails into her skin before he spoke.

“Hmm, no, how about you try again?” Jackson smirked, knowing he had full power here. 

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi sounded angry. Y/N knew that he was not going to rest until he found her. 

Jackson set the phone down and whispered into Y/N’s ear. “If you say one thing, I will kill you.” He threatened. “Now, shut up and be good.” He chuckled as he picked up the phone, pushing into the poor girl. She whimpered, the dry friction hurting her.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” Jackson rolled his hips against her, making her bury her head and cry. She didn’t know if they could hear her.

“Jackson?” Yoongi figured it out, but Y/N had just switched off. She hated this. She wanted out.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” He reached down and grabbed his belt again.  “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” He brought the leather down against her skin, this time not holding the buckle. She felt the metal tear open her skin, leaving fresh wounds that would sometimes go over the ones he had already done. It hurt so much. Y/N just wanted it to be over. She couldn’t do this again. He hit her again, making her scream out in pain.

“Jackson, stop! Please!” She yelled, her hands curling in the sheets to relieve some of the pain.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” Jackson slapped her before grabbing his belt and wrapping it around her neck tightly. She could feel her air supply being cut off. She released a stifled scream, clawing at the leather around her neck.  “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.” He said into the phone.

Before he could hang up, Y/N heard Yoongi talking directly to her.  “Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.”

“Yoongi! I love you all too!” She yelled but Jackson had cut the call.

“Now... where were we?” He sounded menacing. Y/N sobbed as she felt him begin to move.

But now she had that small glimmer of hope that they would be able to find her. One day she would be out of here and she held onto that. For them.

[silversatoru]

birthdays don’t have to suck

fushiguro megumi x f!reader (elli)

synopsis: you get really sick on your birthday, but megumi makes sure that you still have a good day :))

t/w: fluff, reader is sick, vomiting, medicine (tylenol lol), some details pertain specifically to elli

wc: 2.2k

a/n: a small birthday present for the love of my life @megumifushi who never sleeps enough and is always sick,, i love u and i hope ur days not too bad <3

you stared into your dimly lit laptop, red eyes squinting at the black text that sped across the screen as your fingers scrambled against the keys. you weren’t even sure that what you were writing was comprehensible at this point, but your essay that was due tomorrow morning wasn’t gonna write itself. at this point it just needed to get done, concerns of quality were thrown out the window hours ago.

aside from the burning and stinging in your eyes, your entire body ached, and you were ridden with chills and goosebumps. seemed like a fever was coming on, but you didn’t have the time or capacity to care about that right now. you’d pop a few tylenol and crawl into bed in a couple hours, and everything would be better tomorrow.

what time was it anyway? it couldn’t possibly be that late yet, right? 

you glanced to the corner of the screen, eyes falling on a bright 3:56am that made your heart sink and your eyes widen. you had a terrible habit of losing track of time and staying up into ungodly hours of the night — a habit that your wonderful boyfriend was trying so terribly hard to break. 

you glanced to your left and took in his sleeping form, his lips parted ever so slightly as he took small breaths of air. he’d be disappointed and upset with you if he knew how horrid your sleep schedule had been lately, and he’d probably blame your chills and headaches on your lack of sleep as well — which in all fairness was probably pretty accurate. 

“i’ll just finish this up real quick and then i promise i’ll sleep, ‘kay gumi?” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his soft, spiky hair. 

he was undisturbable, his mind off somewhere in a dreamland that was quite the distance from your small bedroom. and that was probably for the better, because him nagging at you to go to sleep would be too distracting for you to get your work done. 

your hands moved rapidly against the keyboard for about another hour, words spilling onto the screen until you finally hit the page requirement for your paper. it was probably terrible, most likely had a few words spelled wrong, and honestly you were pretty certain you’d repeated yourself several times, but fuck it — submit. you were typically an excellent student, so one bad paper wouldn’t kill you, and you were too tired and achy to care right now. 

you got up and placed your laptop onto your desk, plugging it in and letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips as you made your way back over to the bed. the soft blankets were therapeutically warm on your chilly skin as you crawled in against megumi’s back, effectively turning him into the little spoon and pressing your nose to the back of his neck. thankfully, sleep found you shortly after, your eyes fluttering shut as you drifted off into a much needed slumber. 

babe 

wake up 

babe

you woke up to small finger pokes to your cheek from megumi, his face laced with concern as your vision finally focused on his features. he bent over and pressed his lips to your forehead, pausing there for a fraction of a second and then standing back up. 

“i think you have a fever. i noticed when i woke up and you felt like a fucking space heater,” he frowned, confirming your initial suspicions from last night, “i’ll go get some medicine”.

you groggily nodded your head, shivers coursing through your body and dotting your extremities with goosebumps. your condition had definitely deteriorated overnight, your eyes stinging and a horrible nausea creeping up your throat. 

by the time he returned with the medicine you had yourself propped up against the pillows, thick blankets pulled up to your chin in an attempt to minimize the icy feeling in your body. he handed two small tylenol tablets to you with a disappointed look on his face — a look that said: i’m gonna kick your ass for not getting enough sleep again. 

“i’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well enough to go out tonight,” he hummed as he handed you a glass of water, your brain filling with thick fog as you tried to decipher why he would need to let anyone know you were sick. 

the look of pure confusion signaled to him that you had no idea what he was talking about, megumi shaking his head before he spoke up again, “it’s your birthday, dumbass, we were supposed to get food and stuff with yuuji, inumaki, and nobara and maki”. 

birthday 

oh 

forgetting about that was another habit you continued to succumb to every year.

“mm, shit,” you sighed after drinking back the pills, “i forgot”. 

“figured you would,” megumi clicked his tongue, “but i didn’t, because i’m a good boyfriend. can you drag yourself out to the kitchen? you should eat”.

“don’t think so,” you mumbled, attempting to disappear back under the blankets before he could coerce you to follow him outside of the bedroom. 

but megumi is impossibly even more stubborn than you are, wrapping his arms under your body and lifting you to his chest, “guess i’ll just have to carry you then”. 

“fine,” you let out a long groan — was it a bit dramatic? maybe. but in your defense you felt like you’d been hit with a train.

he peppered your face with kisses as he carried you out of the bedroom, lovingly setting you down on one of the high bar stools around your kitchen table. he instructed you to stay in the chair, abruptly returning to the bedroom to bring out a couple blankets to wrap around your shoulders. you were grateful for the extra heat, you body still shaking and shivering as the medications worked to cure your fever. 

megumi was a man of few words, preferring to display his love for you through acts of service than grand confessions, and this was very eminent when he wordlessly grabbed a couple pots and began cooking for you. you let your face fall onto your arms, resting your chin as you watched him silently shuffle between the stove and the pantry. the silence was comfortable, and you weren't going to complain about watching your muscular boyfriend walk around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of loose, plaid pajama pants. 

a few minutes later he was placing a steaming bowl of soup and a couple slices of baked bread in front of you, a savory scent flooding your nostrils. 

“red lentil,” he spoke as he handed you a spoon, “it’s your favorite, so you better eat it”. 

“yes, sir,” you gave him a small smile, dipping the cool metal into the hot liquid and scooping a spoonful into your mouth. 

“all of it”

“yes, megumi, i will try”

to no surprise, the soup went down pretty fucking horribly, your head hanging low over the toilet while megumi held your hair out of the way. your throat was practically raw by the time you were done heaving and vomiting up the meal, your eyes brimming with hot tears. 

megumi tied your hair up in a neat bun so he could step away, filling up a glass with water and carefully helping you to take small sips and rinse out your mouth. he was tedious with the clean up, washing your face and helping you brush your teeth — ensuring that you felt the best you could given the situation. he then scooped you back into his arms, carrying you back to bed and profusely apologizing for making you eat the soup — but he was just trying to make you feel better, he really was doing his best.

you were ready to add today to your long list of terrible birthdays, chalking it up as another failed attempt, but megumi was not about to let that happen. he knew you had a rough history with birthdays, but now that he was here? you’d have a bad birthday over his dead body. 

he scoured the back of your fridge for ginger ale, gatorade, jello, and whatever else he could find to make you the perfect sick-person platter. and he made sure he was logged into every streaming service that the two of you collectively owned, preparing netflix, hulu, and crunchy roll so that he could easily access every single one of your favorite shows and movies. and so you spent the majority of your day tucked safely against megumi’s chest, forcing down small sips of ginger ale and watching an assortment of tv. 

your phone rang at some point — a facetime call from all of your friends who had gotten together so they could all wish you a collective happy birthday. megumi stuck a singular candle into a cup of blue-raspberry jello and ignited it with a small flame; and then they all sang the most terrible rendition of “happy birthday” that you’d ever heard, yuuji’s voice a little louder and little more out-of-tune than everyone else's.

you mustered enough energy to blow out the flame, everyone cheering while megumi shoveled a scoop of the blue jelly into your mouth. you swallowed it with a smile, praying it stayed down while everyone sent you off with an assortment of “feel better!”, “we love you!”, and “wish you were here!”

your night got pretty quiet after that, you and megumi climbing back under the covers to watch a few more episodes of your new favorite anime. it wasn’t until well into the night that he finally asked you if he could give you the presents he’d gotten for you. reluctantly, you said yes. you hated receiving gifts (it was just one of the many reasons you hated your birthday) but you knew that megumi wasn’t going to take no for answer. 

he was obviously nervous, palms sweaty as he handed you a couple neatly wrapped packages in plain, solid colored paper. they were very megumi, perfect folds with not a single crease, the paper simple yet elegant and adorned with a singular bow on top. 

you hesitantly peeled the paper off the smaller of the two, revealing a tiny box that contained a classic looking silver locket. you felt your heart pinch in your chest as you clicked the locket open and revealed two small pictures of each of the two of you. you weren’t particularly sentimental, but on top of your lack of sleep and not feeling very well, the simple gift caused few tears to well up in your eyes. but he was quick to wipe them away, insisting that you had to open the second gift first, and that birthdays weren’t meant for crying. 

you followed his instructions, ripping open the second package and revealing a larger box that contained a series of envelopes. each one was decorated with tiny doodles of you and megumi, his demon dogs, hearts, etc. they were sickeningly cute, and you immediately reached for the first one before megumi reached out and stopped you. 

“they’re not for now; they’re for when i’m gone, you know, on missions and stuff,” he could barely even maintain eye contact, his eyes dipping low as yours filled back up with tears. 

despite your lack of energy and the fever that was starting to return, you showered him in hugs and kisses after that, thanking him over and over for the most perfect gifts, and for making your day as wonderful as it could have been. 

all things aside, you were coming around to the idea that birthday’s don’t have to suck. 

bonus: the first letter: 

to y/n:

i know im not great at telling you what i have to say through words, actually, i’m kind of really bad at it. but i thought writing these might be a nice way to try and get better? i’m not sure. anyway, i guess i’ll start by saying that you mean a lot to me, and i probably miss you a lot right now (even though ill be too afraid to reach out and say it). not sure how long i’ll be gone for at the time but it’s probably a few days at least. gonna work hard so i can hurry back to see you. 

i hope you’re sleeping enough, but i know you’re not. you never do, especially when i’m not there to yell at you. i hope you’re eating enough too. but you’re probably also not doing that. you’re like taking care of a stubborn child, you know that? but this is supposed to be a love letter so i’ll try to refrain from scolding you too much. but do try to take care of yourself. ill see you soon. 

megumi

[schrijverr]

Vampire Venom Confession

To save an injured Alucard, Trevor lets him drink his blood. When he’s all loopy on the vampire venom in his system after, he lets it slip how much Sypha and Alucard mean to him and gets cuddles.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed any!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alucard was injured.

He was often injured as were they all on their track through Wallachia to wipe out the last of what was left of Dracula’s forces, but he wasn’t healing. And that was cause for concern, because both Trevor and Sypha had seen him heal from much worse, much quicker.

So Trevor was trying to stop the bleeding while Sypha was looking for bandages and anything to clean the wound with.

“We’re out of bandages,” she called out, voice laced with panic. “Do you have clean cloth we could cut up?”

“No!” Trevor yelled back, of course he didn’t. They had just been attacked, their cart was mostly destroyed and all he had was night creature gut soaked clothes. “Come on, Alucard. Stay with me here. Can’t have the only good vampire in history die on me. Open those eyes.”

It was obviously a struggle, but Alucard did as he was told, groaning loudly.

“Yeah, that’s it. Focus on me,” Trevor told him. “You’re gonna be fine, just stay with me now. We’re going to need to burn this closed, okay? We don’t have any other means.”

Alucard’s eyes went wide and he shook his head no, trying to wordlessly protest Trevor’s suggestion.

“What? Why not?” Trevor asked, shaking Alucard when it looked like he wanted to slip into darkness again. Sypha was now sitting next to him, her brown also knitted in concern as she held up her hand, ready to summon fire.

“Don’t- don’t have the energy to fight it,” Alucard wheezed. “I will burn.”

“FUCK.”

The loud exclamation by Trevor was felt through them all. It was frustrating that after all this Alucard should bleed out here, just because he spend too much of himself. He had fought Dracula and lived, he shouldn’t perish from lack of resources. It was just wrong.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Sypha asked. “Don’t think of morality here.”

Alucard swallowed, guilt in his eyes as he looked away. Another wave of pain washed over him and he made up his mind as he groaned: “Blood. Need – ugh – blood.”

“Okay, then,” Trevor nodded, “that’s settled then,” before pulling off his tunic and hoisting Alucard up to his neck.

“No, I- I can’t,” Alucard protested weakly.

“You can and you will, you fucking dick,” Trevor snapped. “Now bite, asshole. You’re not kneeling over, not on my watch.”

There must have been something in his voice that made Alucard trust his judgment and convinced him that Trevor knew what he was getting into, because Sypha watched how relief flitted through his eyes before he sank his fangs into the tender meat of Trevor’s neck. And the moment blood started to flow, he drank greedily.

The effect was immediate, the flesh stitchingitself together and color returningto his skin, to the extend his skin held color that was of course.

He also got increasingly steady and soon it was him holding up Trevor instead of the other way around, while the hunter hang limply in his arms. The only reaction he gave to having fangs in his neck was softly gasping here and there that let Sypha know he was still conscious.

She wondered if Alucard knew when to stop or if the blood was too tempting now that he was drinking. She bit her lip, before tentatively asking: “Alucard? Alucard, how much do you need? Is he okay?”

Alucard hummed that he had heard her, but stayed attached to Trevor’s neck for a few more seconds, before licking the puncture wounds until they had stopped bleeding. Then he leaned back, sitting upright by himself as if he had not been on deaths door moments ago.

Sypha was incredibly relieved to see him okay, but with the confirmation that Alucard was okay, she moved her attention to Trevor, who had not moved from where he was half sitting in Alucard’s lap, head now leaning on Alucard’s shoulder, his eyes far away.

“Is he okay?” she asked, then snapped her fingers in front of Trevor’s eyes, getting little to no response. “Hey, Trevor. Trevor. Can you hear me? Please say something.”

“He is fine, Sypha. Do not worry,” Alucard assured her. “He is just under the influence of the venom in my fangs, which is meant to relax its victims. He will be tired and he’s probably dizzy right now, but nothing he won’t recover from. The venom should be easing out of his system soon. He should drink and eat something when he gets back to us.”

Not completely convinced, but at least put at ease by Alucard’s words, she opted to quickly grab some water and a bit of bread. Then she kept a close eye on Trevor, while Alucard kept him cradled to his chest. At least the puncture wounds were healing more rapidly than normal.

When Trevor first started to stir again, a few minutes later, she perked up with relief.

Trevor groaned loudly, blinking heavily as the world spun in front of his eyes, before Alucard and Sypha came back into focus. Blearily he looked at Alucard, then he frowned in confusion, before he smiled. “You’re alive. That’s- that’s good.”

He moved to pat Alucard on the chest, against which he was resting with his torso and arms, but the movement seemed too much work and he gave up. “I’m tired,” he told them.

“I can imagine,” Sypha smiled. “Here drink this.”

She offered him the water and he didn’t even protest as she held the watersack for him. It was slightly unnerving to see him try and fail to drink properly, with half of the water spilling over his chin and down his chest.

When he had drank enough she offered him small bites of bread and he seemed okay enough to slowly munch on them, which was a relief. As he ate his last piece of bread he asked: “What happened again?”

“I was injured,” Alucard said. “You saved me by letting me drink your blood. I haven’t taken too much, but you will definitely feel the effects. Can you describe how you’re feeling to us?”

“Me?” Trevor asked surprised, then seemingly delighted that he was even asked. “Me, well, I feel great.”

“Define great,” Alucard deadpanned and Sypha couldn't help but snort at them. It was a strange sight to see Trevor, usually so closed off and guarded, act silly with his emotions just there, yet still managing to annoy Alucard.

“That’s a big ask,” Trevor told him, almost philosophically. “But, I am floating. Are we floating? You can float right?”

“Yes, I can float, but we are not floating,” Alucard said. “Do you mean that you feel dizzy by any chance?”

“Ah, yes, dizzy,” Trevor lit up when the word came to him. “I feel dizzy. But also warm and soft. Am I on a pillow?”

“No, you’re leaning against Alucard,” Sypha told him with a small grin.

“Wow, this is almost a hug,” Trevor said, completely oblivious to what impact his words might have both on himself and the others. “God, I don’t remember the last time anyone hugged me. Must have been my mother before she was killed.”

Immediately the lighthearted mood at Trevor’s antics fell and Alucard couldn't help but clutch the hunter closer to his chest, making him sigh in content. He shared a look with Sypha over that and both nodded, determined to give Trevor affection now that he was susceptible for it.

“Why am I not wearing a shirt?” The moment was broken by Trevor, who had finally discovered he was no longer wearing a shirt.

“You took it off to give Alucard access to your neck, Trevor,” Sypha answered.

“That seems slightly unnecessary,” frowned Trevor, making them both laugh at his commentary on his own actions. He looked confused. “What? What’s so funny.”

“Nothing, Trevor, nothing,” Sypha assured him. “Why don’t we get you back into a shirt, how does that sound?”

“Good,” Trevor smiled, completely okay with letting his earlier question go. “Though, I do feel a bit heavy and- hmm, un- un…movable, yes. Unmovable. Like a baby.” His eyes went wide, “Oh my God, am I a baby?”

“No, Trevor, not in that sense at least,” Alucard laughed.

Both were glad that Trevor had forgotten about his earlier comment about the hug. Even though it hadn’t left their minds yet, it was nice to not see their friend sad anymore. This was ruined when Sypha held up his tunic and Alucard had to rearrange Trevor to help him into it. The moment he had done so, Trevor had whimpered.

“What’s wrong?” Sypha immediatelyasked, jumping to all sorts of horrible conclusions. Yet nothing could have prepared her heart for Trevor softly saying: “Don’t leave me here.”

“We will never leave you, Trevor,” she promised. “We just want to help you back in your shirt.”

“You promise?” Trevor asked.

“We promise,” Alucard answered for them, quickly hugging Trevor close before helping him into his tunic in record speed so that he could pull Trevor back into his arms again.

While Alucard held Trevor tightly, Sypha started a quick fire and spread out Trevor’s cloak for them to lie on. With him in this condition they wouldn’t be traveling anyway. She also got the covering of whatever was left of the cart to use as blanket, before making her way back to the two men.

Alucard had positioned them in such a way that Trevor was now completely in his lap. Their chests were against one another and Trevor’s face was hidden in the crook of Alucard’s neck, while the vampire rubbed his back and whisper soft comforts in his ear.

When their eyes met Sypha gestured to the blankets and raised a questioning brow. Alucard nodded then turned to Trevor. “Hey, I’m going to move you now, is that okay? We’re not going far, just lying down with Sypha.”

“Still dizzy,” Trevor mumbled.

“I’ll be gentle okay?” Alucard waited until Trevor had nodded against his neck, then he slipped his hands under Trevor’s thighs and stood up slowly, using his supernatural strength to keep Trevor still as he did so.

He lowered Trevor into Sypha’s waiting arms, who cradled his head against her chest as Alucard took the blanket to spread out over them all.

Trevor ended up with his head pillowed on Sypha and Alucard curled up against his back protectively, spooning him closely. He seemed content to just lie there, sighing into Sypha as she carded her hand through his hair.

Right when they thought he had fallen asleep, he said: “This is nice. Almost like I have a family again.” Then he truly drifted off, leaving them with both fondness and an innate sadness piercing their chests as they hugged him tighter.

The next morning Trevor woke last, but still warm, pressed tightly between two bodies as they conversed about magic above his head.

“What are you two doing?” he asked. While it wasn’t uncommon for them to share body heat during the colder nights, they usually didn’t keep laying there in the morning and it was usually Sypha in the middle. He also didn’t usually wake up with a massive headache and he was sure that if he had been drinking, they wouldn’t have been sharing a bed with him.

“Keeping you company,” Sypha smiled as if it was all completely normal.

“Huh? Why?” The moment he asked the happenings of yesterday returned to him and he felt himself flush scarlet at how he had just said the most depressingly lonely things to them, before begging them to stay. “Oh God.”

He tried to curl into himself as if that would make him disappear, but that was quite impossible with how close the others were and he hated how nice it was.

“Ahw, there’s no need for that,” Sypha assured him, again carding a hand through his hair like she had done the night before.

“Yes, we really don’t mind,” Alucard assured him, squeezing him tight in that same comforting manner.

“It really does, actually,” he shot back, embarrassed. “I turned into a huge baby. You had to fucking feed me for fucks sake. And I acted like an idiot, that was so unnecessary and massively pathetic. I mean, seriously, you carried me and I nearly cried when you let go for a moment.”

Both sighed sadly.

They had predicted that Trevor in the morning would not be so open to affection and would try to rebuilt the walls he had around his heart, but they couldn't just pretend he hadn’t bared his soul to them and shown them how touch-starved he was.

“Trevor,” Sypha said, coaxing him to look at her, which he did with small pout-y and squint-y, yet unsure eyes. “We both made a promise to you yesterday. We didn’t just do that because you had lost a lot of blood and needed reassurance. We meant that.”

“You- you did?” There was the same vulnerable edge in his voice that had been there yesterday and both Sypha and Alucard could feel this was a big turning point in their lives that could be vastly different if they said something wrong.

“Yes, Trevor,” Alucard spoke up. “You’re our family too.”

The embarrassed flush came back and he hid his face in Sypha’s stomach again, unwilling to look at them just yet. Sypha couldn't help but coo slightly at the action: “Ahw, you’re so cute, Trevor. Why did you hide such a sweet sight from us?”

“‘M not cute,” came the muffled reply.

“No,” Alucard agreed, for a moment letting Trevor think he was on his side, before adding, “you’re adorable.”

Trevor turned to glare at them both, flush still prominent on his face along with a pout that did not help his argument. He sniffed: “I hate you both.”

“No you don’t,” Sypha said, digging her fingers into his sensitive sides and making him squeak, before protesting that it was cheating, but there was a smile on his face and after a brutal team up attack, he admitted: “Okay, okay, I don’t. You two don’t suck.”

Alucard and Sypha grinned, victory.

It wouldn’t solve everything in one night, but both were determined to keep their promise and if Trevor sought out hugs a bit more after and if sleeping in a cuddle pile became common place, then that was only a good thing.

~~

A/N:

This was actually sillier and less angsty than I had imagined it to be, which is a surprise because so far Trevor always makes my writing needlessly sad, but good for him.

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

Still loving Komahina and I also love hurt/comfort sickfics so this was pretty inevitable. Nagito is very good for sickfics. Anyway, I wanted to show these two trying to navigate a bad illness and all the frightening and sometimes embarrassing things that come with that. Post-hope arc again. With fluff because I can’t NOT do fluff. I hope you enjoy it - Circle

Also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34280557

Warning: descriptions of vomiting (I didn’t describe the puke itself or anything, don’t worry, I’m emetophobic myself) and high fevers/vague descriptions of medical procedures.

Hajime noticed at the beach this time - and just like every time, he kicked himself for not noticing before he’d made Nagito leave the cabin. He thought back to when Nagito stumbled as they walked across the island, about how he’d chased every meagre bite of breakfast with a gulp of water like it was difficult to get down. Hajime hadn’t been vigilant enough, and now they were sitting together on the sand and Nagito was leaning far too heavily against his shoulder.

“Nagito?” Hajime said cautiously. When Nagito turned his head, Hajime hastily put a hand to his forehead, managing to catch it before Nagito veered away. “I knew it. You’re burning up.”

Some old routine. Nagito would deflect, then grow self-deprecating; Hajime would shut that down, then begrudgingly carry Nagito back to their cabin. They’d done this dance together over and over, whenever Nagito’s weakened state and illness made something like a common cold seem as serious as smallpox.

It didn’t seem so bad for the next couple of days. Nagito had a fever, but it was a low one, and he ate when Hajime asked and seemed alert and talkative. Hajime felt comfortable leaving him in the care of their friends while he went to Mikan for medicine and advice - though his friends proved to need supervision of their own. He returned to his cabin just as Sonia and Gundham were leaving, reassured when Sonia reported that Nagito wasn’t any worse. At the time, he didn’t notice the splashes of brown paint on Gundham’s bandages or Sonia’s dress.

Hajime stopped short when he stepped over the threshold. There was a gigantic swirly witchy symbol covering almost the whole wall above the bed, the heavy smell of paint in the air. Nagito was peeping over the top of the bedsheets, eyes sparkling.

“What the hell is that?” Hajime couldn’t even sound angry. He was just bloody tired. Why were the Ultimates so dramatic?

“Sonia and Gundham did a ritual for my good health,” Nagito explained. His lip twitched and Hajime knew he was fighting a smile. “I was so honoured to have two Ultimates working to help me that I thought it’d be unspeakably ungrateful to protest.”

“Oh, shut up, Nagito! I can see you just think it’s funny,” Hajime snapped. Nagito snorted and disappeared under the sheets, spluttering.

Hajime sighed and took another look at the giant eyesore on his wall. At least it was painted fairly neatly - and he knew Gundham and Sonia’s hearts were in the right places even if this particular stunt was irritating. He supposed they were trying to help in a weird way. Sonia went along with anything Gundham said, and Hajime didn’t expect Gundham to know you shouldn’t paint giant symbols on other people’s walls without permission. Gundham navigated social interactions like he was going into battle; Hajime doubted he would ask permission for something he clearly saw as a good deed.

“Doesn’t it make your boring plain wall more interesting?” Nagito piped up.

“Don’t push your luck, Nagito.”

“Right. Who knows what pushing my luck will do.”

Later on, Hajime would worry that he’d jinxed them somehow, that whatever strange force was behind Nagito’s Ultimate Luck was malevolent and wanted to teach them a lesson for mocking it - because that night brought disaster. Nagito was usually exceptionally clingy when they were in bed, often to the point where Hajime got so warm he had to pry him off, but now he curled up right on the very edge of the mattress, well away from Hajime. Hajime knew he was awake from his strangely measured breaths and his unusual stillness; Nagito was a restless sleeper. He frequently kicked Hajime in the night and rolled right on top of him and yanked the blankets away. Sometimes Hajime felt like he’d get more sleep on a busy runway as airplanes roared overhead.

Hajime poked Nagito in the back, careful not to tip him right off the bed. “Hey. What’s up?”

He didn’t get a response. Hajime sighed. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know you’re not asleep. You never sleep like that. So what’s going on?”

He wound his arms around Nagito’s waist and tried to pull him closer to get a better look at him, but Nagito winced and slapped his hands away with surprising force. “Don’t,” he gasped, curling up even tighter. “Don’t press…”

“What? Is it your stomach?” This was new. Nagito had been off his food lately, but then he frequently found it difficult to eat. “Do you feel nauseous?”

Silence. Getting information from Nagito was like getting blood from a stone sometimes. Hajime felt Nagito’s forehead in the gloom. His fever had definitely gone up and his skin was clammy. Hajime let his fingers trail down Nagito’s cheeks to his jawline and felt along his neck - the lymph nodes were so swollen they felt like two throbbing ping pong balls.

“Fuck,” Hajime muttered. “I thought we might get through this one without anything too bad.”

He was expecting some strange rambling about how this bad luck would inspire them to hope for good things in the future, but Nagito still didn’t speak. He rolled over and shuffled across the bed, tucking his burning head right under Hajime’s chin. It worried Hajime more than any words could; Nagito didn’t actively seek out comfort unless he was feeling really terrible.

“Hey,” Hajime mumbled, having to spit out a mouthful of Nagito’s unruly curls. “Ugh, your hair keeps getting in my mouth. Look, I know you’re sick and I’m sure it must feel crappy, but you’ll be okay. You’ll probably feel better by tomorrow morning. Right?” Hajime knew he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as Nagito.

More silence. Hajime could feel Nagito shivering, and wound his arms around him quickly. He usually teased Nagito for being so chilly all the time, needing his jacket whenever the sun dipped behind the clouds and getting goose pimples in the air conditioned cabins, but it didn’t seem remotely funny anymore. Nagito trembled like he was buried up to his neck in snow, but he certainly didn’t feel cold.

“You’re burning up. Fuck, I think I need to get Mikan,” Hajime said. He felt a hand shoot out and grab hold of his t-shirt, clinging for dear life. Hajime knew he could easily pry Nagito off, but he couldn’t bring himself to try at a time like this. “Okay, don’t freak out. I’ll stay. But I’m going if you get any worse.”

It was after midnight when the vomiting started. They’d already been in the bathroom since eleven, huddled together on the floor by the toilet, sharing a blanket. Nagito kept sleepily begging Hajime to go back to bed and leave him there, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t be here with me if our roles were reversed.”

“That’s different. You’re you and I’m me,” Nagito whispered. He let his burning head rest against Hajime’s shoulder despite his pleading.

“It shouldn’t be different though. It’s not different, not to me. You’re sick and I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway if I knew you were in here on your own feeling miserable.”

“You have such a kind heart, Hajime. To think you could care so much about someone as worthless as I am.”

“Nagito. If you don’t stop that I’m going to shove your head down the toilet and flush, no matter how sick you are,” Hajime threatened. “You’re not worthless. For the millionth time.”

“You’d think you’d have got tired of saying that by now,” Nagito said.

“I have. Very fucking tired. But I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Now shut up and try to get some rest. And let me know when you need to throw up. You’re in a position right now that would have you puking down my front and it’s making me nervous.”

Thankfully, Nagito was exceptionally neat about it when he did have to lean over the toilet to vomit. Hajime hooked his white curls back behind his ears and tried not to groan too much. It was unpleasant, obviously, but it was clear Nagito was the one suffering the most right now. He didn’t need Hajime moaning in his ear for him to hurry up - and as the minutes ticked by Hajime found his embarrassment and mild disgust morphing into anxiety. He knew Nagito hadn’t had much to eat these past few days, but the retching and heaving went on well after Nagito had nothing left to bring up. Nagito’s cheeks grew flushed and blotchy, and it wasn’t long before Hajime was the only thing holding him up over the loo, his arms wound around Nagito’s chest. He could feel Nagito’s heart pounding hard against his arms, on and on.

“Come on,” Hajime said eventually. “I’ll get you a bucket or something. You’re not really throwing anything up now anyway. You need to lie down.”

Nagito didn’t respond. He was breathing heavily, his face dripping with sweat. He was gripping the porcelain so hard his knuckles bleached white. Hajime had to pry off his fingers one by one.

“Come on,” he repeated. “I’ll get you something to wipe your face. I know you feel miserable but you can’t stay tethered to the toilet until you die.” He scooped Nagito up into his arms, cradling him as carefully as a newborn. Nagito felt frighteningly hot and damp.

Shaky arms wound around Hajime’s neck and a weak, hoarse voice whispered into his ear. “Death would be welcome at this point…”

“Stop it,” Hajime said firmly. “Don’t go all melodramatic on me. You sound like Gundham.” He carried Nagito to the bed and ran a cloth under the tap. “Here. Shall I do it for you? Then you don’t have to sit up.”

Nagito didn’t react, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed to decide to ignore Hajime at will, and it annoyed him almost as much as Nagito’s self-deprecation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” Hajime snapped. “I’ll scrub your face like a baby if you’re going to act like one.” Despite his tone, Hajime ran the damp cloth over Nagito’s skin with unbelievable care and tenderness, going carefully around his eyes and mouth.

Nagito’s eyes flickered over to him. “Well, Nurse Hinata, what’s your diagnosis? Is it curtains for me now? Is this world finally finished with me?”

“No! God, I’ve never known anybody so dramatic,” Hajime said angrily. “It’s just a little stomach flu or something like that. Don’t be so stupid.” He was almost shouting now. It was far easier to get angry than to admit to Nagito that he was scared too, that the knot of panic in his chest was getting tighter by the minute.

Nagito stared at him pityingly. Hajime wanted to slap him and clasp him close all at once.

“I’m going to get Mikan.” He turned to leave, but felt a clammy hand grasp his wrist and hold it with a surprisingly firm, desperate strength. Hajime turned back. “Nagito..?”

Nagito had his head bent, his lips pressed together. He didn’t speak, but he clung to Hajime’s wrist so tightly his fingernails dug in.

“But we need help. I’ll be as fast as I can, I promise. I’ll run all the way,” Hajime tried.

The hand squeezed even tighter.

“Oh fucking hell,” Hajime groaned. “Okay, I won’t leave. But we still need help, so you need to let me go for a second, okay? I promise I won’t go past the door to the cabin.”

A pause. Then Nagito slowly unclamped his fingers and let Hajime break free. He immediately flew to the cabin door, opened it wide and took a deep, long breath inwards. “HEY!” he bellowed, as loud as he could possibly manage. His voice boomed through the still night air. “WE NEED HELP! COME OUT AND HELP US!”

He yelled the same simple lines over and over until a door opened. He’d rather hoped for somebody sensible like Twogami or Mahiru; he ended up with Kazuichi. It made sense really - the sensible people would be asleep at three in the morning, and Kazuichi’s cabin was directly across from Hajime’s.

“What the hell are you screaming about, Hajime?” Kazuichi whined, scrubbing his eyes. His hands were covered with oil and he smeared it across his cheeks. It looked like he was wearing bad war paint. He’d doubtless been hunched over some project he was working on. It usually annoyed Hajime to see his friend neglecting vital things like sleep for his machines, but he was grateful for Souda’s insomnia tonight.

“Kazuichi, come over here, I need your help. Nagito is sick. Like, really sick. I need you to go get Mikan. Please.”

“What? Why can’t you do it?” Kazuichi said indignantly.

“I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, okay?!” Hajime muttered, flustered.

“Awww, Hajime! You loooove him,” Kazuichi cried, spluttering with laughter.

Hajime heard Nagito snort behind him too. He must’ve heard. He felt his cheeks flush crimson. “Kazuichi, will you just fucking go before I throttle you!”

“Stop yelling at me, I’m doing you a favour!” Kazuichi cried, looking wounded - but he ran off in the direction of Mikan’s cabin obediently.

None of them slept much that night. Mikan worked diligently, trying antibiotics and saline drips and ice packs, but she couldn’t get Nagito’s fever down, getting more and more tearfully apologetic as if she was personally blighting him herself. “His fever is dangerously high. We have to find a way of lowering it,” she muttered over and over like a mantra, shaking her head.

Anti-nausea drugs stopped the persistent stomach pains, but Nagito was clearly far from comfortable. He stopped smirking and teasing Hajime, stopped laughing at Kazuichi’s silly jokes. He stopped putting himself down and babbling about how the four Ultimates were so full of kindness and hope to be fussing so much over someone like him. He just stared vacantly up at the ceiling, his eyes foggy and over-bright, his cheeks flushed.

They each toiled in their own way until dawn, when they finally collapsed with exhaustion, squashing up together on Hajime’s bed. They lay there undisturbed until Twogami came looking for them, concerned by the absences at breakfast. He shook Hajime awake, wanting to know why there were four people curled around each other like puppies on his bed, but all Hajime could focus on was Nagito. His head was resting on Hajime’s chest, burning hot through his shirt. The fever was still there. He’d woken up but the nightmare was still going.

It was a mercy that Twogami found them. He sent Mikan off to sleep in her own cabin and made Hajime give a detailed account of the previous night (he let Kazuichi remain asleep at the foot of the bed. Twogami knew he wouldn’t sleep again if he was disturbed, and he wasn’t in the way).

“If he gets any worse, we might have to contact Future Foundation,” Twogami said thoughtfully. “They’ll have more complex medical equipment.”

“We don’t need them,” Hajime snapped. “Especially Makoto.”

He’d thought Kazuichi was still sleeping, but he snorted. “Because Nagito gushes over Makoto. That’s why you don’t like him,” he mumbled sleepily, sitting up.

“Shut up, you hypocrite. Why didn’t you like Gundham before?” Hajime argued.

“I don’t know why you get so fussed, Makoto looks a lot like you.”

“He doesn’t!”

Twogami sighed and crossed his arms like an exasperated parent. “If you two want to bicker you can go do it outside. Nagito needs peace and quiet.” He sounded like a parent too, and the other men quietened immediately and focused on Nagito again.

Nagito didn’t seem to wake up properly. He could open his eyes (though this looked like it was taking an extreme amount of effort) but he didn’t speak or even react very much when somebody spoke to him. He barely blinked when Hajime tried to make him sip water or Kazuichi tapped on his cheek and called his name. Mikan was forced to give him fluids intravenously. When the afternoon brought no improvements, Hajime let Twogami contact Future Foundation for better medicine.

Hajime spent another anxious, sleepless night desperately holding Nagito - though he didn’t feel like Nagito. He hadn’t spoken a single word all day, and though Hajime was trying to be optimistic, he could feel panic pooling in his stomach like oil. Would the medicine get here in time? Would it even work? Nagito was so sick, as sick as he’d been with that awful Despair Disease. Hajime remembered how he’d left Nagito alone then; he wouldn’t make that mistake this time. He’d be there for Nagito - if he was even aware of Hajime at this point. It seemed less and less likely. He wasn’t even opening his eyes now. All Hajime could do was hold him, hold onto this lifeless, unresponsive husk that sucked in shallow breaths far too fast. He wondered if the real Nagito was somewhere deep inside, floating aimlessly, or if the fever had fried his brain completely and obliterated the strange, smart, fascinating person Hajime knew. No, surely he was being stupid. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Unless Mikan and Twogami were just being tactful. Maybe they both expected Nagito to perish and just didn’t want to snuff out Hajime’s hope. He clutched the burning body tighter.

“Don’t you dare die,” he whispered fiercely, cupping Nagito’s cheeks. “I mean it. Not after everything that’s happened. You can’t just give up now. You woke up once before. It took you the longest of everyone, but you still came back. Do it again, because I’ll lose my fucking mind if anyone else dies. You’d better fight this.” His eyes burned. Several tiny droplets of water fell onto Nagito’s face.

Hajime waited. He silently begged Nagito to open his eyes, whisper something coherent, clutch his hand… but nothing happened. Hajime held him all night, terrified of drifting off to sleep in case he woke up and found Nagito stone cold and white and still. He’d found Nagito dead once. Bloody and bound, his eyes bulging with pain… No. It wasn’t real, even if it felt real. It wasn’t real it wasn’t real it wasn’t real.

Morning brought the stronger medicine from the Future Foundation. Twogami explained what it was and how it worked, but Hajime was so fuzzy-headed with lack of sleep and stress that he didn’t take any of it in.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Twogami said doubtfully. “Mikan set up the IV so you don’t have to worry about anything. You could leave one of us here, go get some rest.” He tried for ten minutes to convince him, but Hajime shook his head.

“I can’t leave him. Not until he’s better.”

“You’re so stubborn. At this rate we’ll need to start nursing you along with him,” Twogami muttered, but he left them alone. Mikan left as soon as she could too, apologising even more than usual. Maybe Hajime had been glaring at her? It wasn’t her fault, he just had a splitting headache, but he obviously couldn’t leave to go apologise. Not now.

Time had started to blur. Minutes crawled by like days, but then suddenly an entire hour could disappear in a second. Hajime stayed sitting by Nagito’s side, periodically holding his hand, begging him to squeeze his back. Nagito lay still, but his breathing had evened out considerably since he’d been given this new medication. Hajime tried tickling at his cheeks and smoothing back his hair and Nagito twitched and sighed - tiny reactions, but they were reactions. Hajime hardly dared let himself hope and he definitely didn’t dare let himself sleep, though he was so tired now he had shooting pains behind his eyes.

Later - much later - Kazuichi came back, bringing Hajime toast and coffee. He looked startled by the state he was in. “Good God, Hajime, you look worse than Nagito!”

“Thanks a bunch,” Hajime grumbled. He didn’t touch the toast but took a grateful gulp of coffee.

“Seriously, bro, when did you last sleep? Or eat? Or… shower?” Kazuichi asked, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Have you seriously not slept since he got sick?”

“How can I?” Hajime snapped. “Will you please stop bleating obvious questions at me, Kazuichi. Yes, I’m fucking tired and hungry and I look like shit right now, I know. But I’m trying to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t die right in front of me, so forgive me if I can’t give much of a fuck about anything else! I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now. So can you please just shut up or fuck off!” He was practically screaming by the end of it. Part of him really wanted Kazuichi to yell back, start a real fight; he was so tired and so frustrated and it was so easy to take it out on Kazuichi.

But Souda didn’t argue. He didn’t speak, but his eyes filled up and he ducked his head to hide his quivering lips. Hajime felt a sudden wave of shame wash over his head. He didn’t want to make Kazuichi cry (even if that was pretty easy to do).

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands. “Yes, I’m tired. Tired and miserable. It’s not your fault.”

“I know you’re tired. I thought I could stay here. Keep watch over Nagito for a bit. You can sleep next to him,” Kazuichi said, his voice cracking.

Hajime felt worse than ever. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He grabbed Kazuichi and pulled him into a clumsy hug. “You’re a good friend. Better than me.”

“I’m your best friend, right?” Kazuichi asked hopefully. “You’re not just being nice? Am I actually just annoying?”

“You are annoying. But you’re still my best friend.”

Kazuichi grinned. “Okay. And you’ll get some rest now? I think you really need it, Hajime. You’re so grouchy when you’re tired.”

Hajime rather wanted to grumble about that comment, but he didn’t want to prove Souda’s point. “You’ll wake me up if anything changes with Nagito? Even something tiny. Even if you’re not sure it’s a change, can you wake me up to check?”

“Yes. God, you’re worse than Peko with Fuyuhiko. Do you really love him, Hajime?” Kazuichi asked.

“Look, we’re not at a pre-teen sleepover, Kazuichi. I don’t want to sit here with you and gossip about boys,” Hajime said, shuffling close to Nagito. He wasn’t sure - maybe it was wishful thinking - but he thought Nagito’s body was slightly cooler.

“See what I mean. Grumpy,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime didn’t bother to reply this time. He didn’t think he’d manage to get a wink of sleep with all the stress and worry, but he was out like a light almost immediately, so exhausted he didn’t even dream. He wasn’t sure how long Kazuichi kept vigil at their bedside (several hours, he guessed. Kazuichi was a good friend) but he was gone when Hajime opened his eyes. The silvery dawn light was filtering in through the windows, bathing their furniture in a soft glow. Something was burrowing into Hajime’s chest like a small animal.

“Nagito..?” Hajime mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Of course. Who else do you invite into bed, Hajime?”

“Nobody, dumbass.” Then it clicked and Hajime was instantly awake, peering through the dim light. Nagito truly was awake, looking very pale and sleepy and weak, but his eyes were open. Hajime clutched onto him at once, holding him as tight as he dared. Nagito felt as fragile as glass, like he might shatter altogether if Hajime squeezed too hard.

“Careful, you’ll yank my IV out,” Nagito mumbled, but he buried his face into Hajime’s shoulder too. His skin was still clammy, still warm, but not that terrifying burning anymore. Nagito felt clammy all over. “You should wait till I’ve showered before we do all the tearful reunions.”

“Shut up. I need a shower too,” Hajime said hoarsely. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Fuck, it’s good to see you awake and talking.”

“How long was I out?”

“Several days. How much do you remember?”

Nagito paused. “I remember the night Mikan and Kazuichi came. It gets a bit muddled after that. Someone tried to make me drink quite a few times. Nothing much then. Except…”

“Except?”

“Perhaps I was dreaming. I couldn’t imagine somebody caring so much for someone like-”

“Oh Christ, I haven’t missed that,” Hajime groaned. “Just tell me what you remember!”

“You. Your voice, telling me not to die. Though it sounded more like you were threatening me not to die. And something dripping on me.”

Hajime felt his face flushing. It seemed like years ago that he’d hovered over Nagito and frantically begged him to keep fighting. “Trust you to remember something embarrassing like that.”

“Were you truly crying?”

“What else would I be doing? Drooling on you?”

“You hardly ever cry.”

“I’ve never seen you that sick before,” Hajime admitted. He held Nagito in the hug so he couldn’t see his face. It was somehow easier to blurt it all out in the gloomy morning half-light. “It was… fucking horrible. I didn’t dare sleep. I haven’t felt scared like that since the simulation. I thought I was going to lose you… just like Chiaki.”

There was a long, pregnant pause. Hajime could feel Nagito’s breath tickling against his neck.

“We smell awful,” Nagito finally whispered.

Hajime started spluttering with laughter. “For God’s sake! Can’t you ever be serious?”

“You know I don’t have any idea how to comfort people. But… you shouldn’t worry so much when I get sick. Not just because I’m me, but because my luck usually comes through for me eventually. It hasn’t let me die yet. Well, except in the simulation.”

“Shut up. Don’t talk about that,” Hajime said quickly. “Izuru has luck too. So that should mean I’m stuck with you forever.”

He rather expected Nagito to shoot back with some sort of self-deprecating response like “poor you” but Nagito was silent for a while. He was practically in Hajime’s lap now, his skinny legs wound around Hajime’s waist.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?” The words were so quiet Hajime barely heard.

“Thank you for taking care of me. Nobody has ever done that before,” Nagito said, his voice as light and delicate as the dawn. He still found it so hard to accept things like this. He’d spent so many years building walls around him and then Hajime had come along and blasted through them in an instant. Nagito felt raw and vulnerable and exposed - but there was a warm feeling in his stomach too, new and unfamiliar.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Hajime promised.

“You’ll probably have to. My immune system is awful.”

“Then I will. Needing things isn’t bad, Nagito. You’re not meant to do things all alone.”

“The thing we need right now is a wash.”

“Yes. We’d better get that over with first,” Hajime agreed - but despite their words they both remained in their embrace, clinging to each other with desperate strength, long after that sun had risen properly.

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | final chapter: is something burning?

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, SMUT WARNINGS APPLY in this chapter sorry i’m yelling stressed!joon, sweaty!joon, sober!joon all make an appearance

rating: 18+

word count: 7.9K

notes: okay, so i stressed a bit about this chapter.  i got really in my head over it, but i hope it ends in a way that’s satisfying to all of you guys.  i’ve heard from some of the most amazing readers about this story -- i appreciate you all so much and i’d love to hear from you about how you feel about the ending.

special love to the best beta hands down periodt amen @hobi-gif​​, the lady who inspired it all with her adorable brand of namjoon thirst @sahmfanficbts​​, and three people who mean the world to me point blank period @ladyartemesia​​ @ppersonna​​ @taetaewonderland​​

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

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

There’s this thing that happens when you’re getting over a cold.

Slowly -- as your breathing returns to normal -- you can taste again.  Your head clears and your senses come back to life and you savor everything you eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had.  Your appetite returns.  

And all at once, you are starving.

That’s what it’s like after Namjoon touches you.

All he had to do was cup your face in one large, warm hand and it feels like your entire body has been jump-started.  Like parts of you that have been dormant for years are now awake, nerve endings exposed and aching.  Like all the tiny pieces of you that have been scattered and lost for so long are now found and fitting back together.

For the first time in a long time you remember what it feels like to want.

It’s not like you didn’t know you cared for Namjoon.  You knew it deep down in the way you took pride in providing for his needs.  You knew it in the way it made you feel to see appreciation reflected back in his dark eyes.

But you didn’t understand how much you wanted him until that night in his office.  

In those few charged moments, Namjoon made you feel more desired with his gaze than other men have with their hands.  You let down your guard and allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. You let yourself embrace the fantasy of being his in every way.

And then it was over.

Whatever spell he was under was broken and whatever existed in the air between you evaporated.  The hunger in his eyes turned into remorse and you’d left his office on trembling legs, reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Today, you stare out at the window across from your desk, unable to suppress the hurt that grips your chest.  You can barely concentrate on the numbers on the sheet in front of you, mind replaying the events in that office.  

Namjoon should never have touched you.  

He should never have roused the parts of you that had been long forgotten between doctors visits and pharmacy runs.  He should never have made you feel things no other man ever has or probably ever will.

And he should have never let you believe, even for one second, that he could care for you the way you do for him.

He should have just left you alone.

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

No one ever tells you that when you devote your life to caring for someone else’s needs, yours end up falling by the wayside.  That who you are ends up diminished somehow, buried underneath the weight of responsibility and worry.

Jinjoo finds you sitting in the chair next to your mother’s bed, staring at one lock of hair threaded through your fingers.  You’re frowning at the split ends you’ve not had a chance to tend to, the ones you hide by keeping your hair pulled back.

She sweeps into the room, carrying a bowl of kimchi.

“It’s Saturday. The sun is shining and you should go out.  Maybe to the salon, hmm?”

You glance up just as she’s placing the food on a tray at the foot of your mother’s bed.  She smiles to soften the blow of her observation and you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at her well-meaning meddling.  It’s nice to be fussed over for a change.

“I can’t even remember the last time I went to the salon,” you admit, eyes locking on an unsightly chip in your nail polish.  “I usually end up cutting it myself.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Jinjoo scolds, hands on hips.  “Today I want you to go out and do something just for you.  Go and get the works.  You’re far too young to be stuck in this house all the time.”

You consider her offer for a moment.  Here in the quiet of your mother’s room it’s far too easy to let your mind wander back to the encounter with Namjoon.  Far too easy to dwell on the ache that surfaces every time you remember.

“Go on, Ttal.”

You turn in the direction of your mother’s voice and find her stirring from her nap.  She places one soft hand over yours and squeezes.  “She’s right.  Go take some time away.  I’ll be fine here with Jinjoo.”

“See?” Jinjoo waves a hand to shoo you out of the chair. You stand and she immediately takes your place in the seat.  “Your mother agrees.  Now go.  And buy something pretty to wear while you’re at it.”

You look from her to your mother and see both women wearing matching expressions of encouragement.  

You decide they’re right.

So you spend the rest of your day pampering yourself and shopping and definitely not thinking about Kim Namjoon.  

You don’t think about him when you read the book he recommended to you once at the salon, you don’t think about him when you stop for a bite at his favorite Tteokbokki stand and you definitely don’t think about him when you buy a new sweater that makes you feel beautiful.

You definitely don’t think about him at all.

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

NAMJOON

Kim Namjoon’s father was a pig.

A glutton of the worst kind, he hoarded money and guns and drugs and because no one ever tried to stop him.  He used and abused everything and everyone just because he could.

Namjoon hated to watch the sadistic games his father played with people.  He hated that the man seemed to direct the worst of his cruelty at the women in his life.  

Namjoon’s own sister left everything behind to escape his violence and abuse and somehow his father was even more vicious with the women he bedded and discarded at random.  He dangled things like money and security and love in front of them like bait, only to yank it all away on a whim.

That’s why Namjoon has worked so hard his entire life to prove to others -- to prove to himself -- that he’s better than the piece of shit who raised him.  

That’s why the look on your face in his office that night cut so deep.

That look pierced straight through the lust and the scotch clouding his judgement and forced him to step back and see the situation for what it was. It made him feel sick to think he might have made you feel like his help came with conditions.  That he’d done what he had expecting you to give yourself to him in return.  

He couldn’t allow you to think he’d use his money to try and buy you.  That’s something his father would have done.

And Kim Namjoon is not his fucking father.

So this morning he finds himself walking towards your desk, determined to make it right.  You don’t register his approach as you work quietly and Namjoon has a quick moment to take you in.

There’s something different about you.

Namjoon can’t put his finger on it, but when he gets close enough for you to notice his presence and you glance up at him from under those long lashes, you look changed somehow.

Rested. Radiant.

The second you register that it’s him though, the look on your face changes.  You stand up from your chair, expression shuttered, tone formal.

“Mister Kim,” you murmur.  “How can I help you this morning?”

“Please sit,” Namjoon starts quietly.  “I, uh --” He digs his nails into his palm, annoyed with the hesitation in his delivery.  Spit it out, you moron.

“-- I owe you an apology.”

Your lips part in surprise before you close your mouth, sinking slowly back into your chair.  

Namjoon rubs one hand across the back of his neck, stealing a sideways glance at Seokjin’s office door.  It remains closed and he’s glad for it.  The last thing he’d want is an audience for this embarrassing exchange.

“The other night I was --” he clears his throat awkwardly.  Loaded. Horny. Stupid.  

He eventually lands on a less damning adjective.  “-- not entirely appropriate with you.”

You blink back but keep quiet so Namjoon keeps talking.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way,” he acknowledges weakly.  “That’s not normally how I treat my employees.  And I’m sorry.”

Spots of color appear in your cheeks.

“Well as your employee, I admit it wasn’t appropriate for me to just turn up in your office without notice, either,” you reply quietly.  “I think I was just shocked by your generosity. It’s a lot of money, and I --”

“-- Don’t think anything of it,” Namjoon interjects quickly.  “You’ve saved me that amount and more with your audits.  It only made sense to repay you for your efforts.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Namjoon knows it immediately.  It’s not the truth -- not by a mile -- and judging by the look that passes over your face, it’s definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“Mister Kim.”

“Yes?” Namjoon replies, only to realize that you are now looking past him and that he’s not the only one answering.

He turns slowly to find Seokjin standing behind him, wearing an expression halfway between curiosity and scrutiny.  Namjoon’s nails dig back into his palms, leaving tiny indents in the skin.

“Good morning,” you continue, turning your attention fully to Seokjin.  Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon before answering.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says slowly.

“If you’re ready to go over the new audits, I have more information to cover with you,” you say, pointing at the papers riddled with notes on your desk.  Namjoon stands there like an idiot, watching the two of you interact like he’s not even there.

“Sure,” Seokjin agrees, eyes darting back to Namjoon.  “Let’s go ahead and get into the numbers.”

“Great,” you say with a smile, standing to organize your papers into a folder.  

You look back at Namjoon like he’s an afterthought and the realization stings.  “If that was all you needed, I’ve got some work to handle now.”

The nails in his palm are this close to drawing blood.  

He cuts his eyes at Seokjin who immediately looks away.

“Certainly,” he says under his breath.  “Let me not keep you.”

You turn your back on him to head into Seokjin’s office.

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

Namjoon stares out at the setting sun from his office window.

He’s spent the last few days hiding out in here, avoiding everything and everyone.  Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin -- his phone keeps lighting up with calls he won’t answer.  His already black mood darkens every time his mind replays the seemingly endless string of disastrous exchanges with you.

He still can’t figure out how he’s managed to fuck things up so royally.

He still can’t figure out why he didn’t just tell you the truth about the money and about Jinjoo. He should have just admitted outright that for once he wanted to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.  He should have just admitted that you mean something to him.

That’s the real reason why things are so screwed up right now.

It would be so simple if this was just about sex.  It would be so simple if Namjoon could just get you into bed and get you out of his system.  But you’re not Mina or Yejin or any of the others.  

You’re not like any woman he’s ever known.

Namjoon leans back into his chair just as his cell phone lights again and he grabs it just long enough to reject the call before tossing it back onto his desk.  He rubs his fingers across his mouth and watches the sun fall behind the nearby skyscrapers.

You deserve so much more than he is capable of giving you.

You deserve happiness and security and certainty.  What you don’t deserve is to be toyed with by a man who doesn’t know what his future looks like.  A man who’s still so damaged by his own upbringing that he worries he’ll never be capable of being a decent husband and father.

Truthfully, Namjoon doesn’t know which scenario scares him more.  

The one where he tries -- and fails -- to give you the things you need, or the one where he drifts through the rest of his life anchored to no one and nothing.

The sound of an incoming text interrupts his maudlin thoughts.

Namjoon reaches for his phone and sighs as he reads the waiting message.

reservations at doore yoo, 8 PM [ 6:32 PM ]

join me [ 6:32 PM ]

it’s been too long [ 6:33 PM ]

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

“Mister Kim.”

The Maitre’d at Doore Yoo bows in Namjoon’s direction, flashing a wide smile. “A pleasure to have you back.”

“Thank you Sungho,” Namjoon murmurs, scanning the crowded dining room.  “Is she waiting for me?”

“She is,” Sungho confirms.

Namjoon follows him past the tables packed with patrons to the exclusive dining area hidden away in the back.  This is his regular table, inside his regular private room -- but when Sungho slides the door open, Namjoon stops short and nearly tells the man he’s made a mistake.

The young woman waiting for him inside is unrecognizable.

From the back, Namjoon can see that her dark hair has been swept into a careful updo, shoulders and skin bared in a delicate spaghetti-strap top.  But that can’t be right.

Because she would never --

“Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon’s sister lifts her chin and smiles as he steps around the table.  

He catches himself staring, momentarily thrown by the sight in front of him.  It’s the first time in his life he can recall seeing his sister wearing something that doesn’t cover the jagged scar that crosses her collarbone.  The scar that she’s spent a lifetime hiding, ashamed of the way it made her look and feel.  At once, the realization hits him -- the hundreds of different ways she’s changed, big and small since falling in love with Hoseok.  

Every last one of them for the better.

“Amsaja, you look -- ” Namjoon pauses to brush a kiss across her cheek, “ -- wonderful.”

She flushes.

“Thank you. Now sit,” she orders kindly, reaching for her wine glass.  “For a minute there I thought you might not show.”

Namjoon exhales, sinking into his seat.  

“For a minute there, I almost didn’t,” he admits.  “It’s been a shitty week.”

His sister says nothing, smiling like a sphinx as a server appears to offer Namjoon his own drink.  

“Club soda on ice,” Namjoon orders quietly.  “Thanks.”

Her poker face slips then, one eyebrow lifting in surprise at seeing him forgo his usual scotch.  She sips her wine thoughtfully before speaking.

“Talk to me, Namjoon.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he deflects irritably, staring past her to the art on the walls.  

“Hoseok says you’ve barely left your office.  Won’t take his calls.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, hackles raising immediately.

“Tell Hoseok he should work on his pillow talk,” he says sharply, and the second the words leave his mouth he regrets them.  Namjoon sees the change in his sister’s demeanor, watches her eyes sharpen from across the table.  

“Forgive me,” he apologizes quickly.  “That was uncalled for.  I’m fucking things up left and right these days, it seems.”

His sister stares back at him.  Namjoon knows that face, knows she’s now opted to abandon her charm offensive for a more direct approach.  He knows it’s exactly what he deserves for being an asshole.

“That’s my understanding, yes,” she says tightly.  “As smart as you are, you seem to be doing some very stupid shit lately.”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, cheeks warming at her rebuke.

“You’re right,” he admits.  “But I’m going to need you to be more specific about which stupid shit you want to talk about tonight.”

“Don’t be dense,” his sister scolds.  “Clearly, you’re tied up in knots over your assistant.  Oh, I’m sorry -- I mean former assistant.”

Namjoon’s defeated sigh hangs in the air for a moment.

“Is that what Hoseok says?”

“That’s what everyone says,” his sister fires back.  “You think you’re such a mystery but I assure you, you’re actually quite transparent.  Sending her away to work for Seokjin? Hiring a private nurse?  Good grief, Namjoon.  Real subtle.”

Shit, he wishes he had a scotch right now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain to me why you’re playing this stupid game of push and pull with this woman.  If you care about her, do something about it instead of lashing out at everyone around you because you’re angry with yourself.”

“She’s not --” Namjoon falters as he searches for a proper explanation, “-- she has a complicated life right now.  I’m just trying to help her the only way I know how.”

His sister leans back in her chair, wine glass tipped in his direction.

“You know what I think?  I think you like her too much and I think that’s freaking you out.  And I think you’re going to miss out on a good thing because you won’t get your head out of your ass.”

Namjoon stares back at his sister.

“I think you might be right,” he concedes, after a heavy silence.  

“Namjoon, I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” his sister says quietly.  “Whatever you’re feeling, she’s feeling it too.”

He knows that’s true. It’s been damned near impossible not to feel the charged air between you, impossible not to share passing looks and fleeting touches while working in such close quarters.  When he looks at you he knows instinctively that you feel the same pull.  It’s only made his precarious position that much harder.

“I just --” he shakes his head as he tries to justify his inaction, “-- I have no idea what I’m offering her.  I don’t know what I’m capable of giving her.  Beyond money, of course.”

His sister laughs.  

Namjoon waits for her to collect herself, ears warm with embarrassment.  He resists the childish impulse to kick her under the table.

“Is that funny to you?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she teases.  “You have no idea what you have to offer her?  You’re one of the most powerful men in this city, Namjoon.  There’s nothing you couldn’t offer her.”

The server arrives with dumplings and sets them in the middle of the table, and his sister reaches for one.

“If she’s this important to you, I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her,” she continues.  “Stop overthinking this. You’re a good man.  Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“I haven’t acted like a good man lately,” he confesses, shaking his head.  “She came to my office a few nights ago and I acted like a drunk, groping asshole.  Like father, like son.”

His sister sets her wine glass down, hard.

“You’re nothing like our father, Namjoon,” she says, eyes flashing with anger.  “Quit telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness out of some misguided, misplaced guilt.  And whatever happened in that office can be fixed.  If you want to fix it.”

Namjoon watches the bubbles in his club soda surface and break.  He does want to fix it.  He wants to figure out a way to stop fucking everything up where you’re concerned.

“I do,” he admits.

“Have you apologized?”

“Awkwardly. Not sure that it helped my case.”

“Then I think you need to offer her the one thing that’s more valuable than your money, Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow at his sister.

“What’s that?”

She plucks a dumpling off the plate with her chopsticks and points it at him.

“Give her your time.”

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

YOU

It’s freezing tonight.

You wrap your arms around yourself and brace against the biting wind as you approach your family home.  You’re dead on your feet, worn after a long day at the office -- and for the thousandth time since her arrival you silently give thanks for Jinjoo.  

Knowing your mother is taken care of while you’re gone and coming back to a clean home and warm meals has eased your burdens immeasurably.  

Of course, it’s all really thanks to Kim Namjoon -- but that’s something you’re not allowing your mind to dwell on right now.  You’ve worked hard over the past few days to push any thought of that man back to the furthest recesses of your mind.  

You’re peeling out of your scarf and coat in the foyer when a laugh echoes down the long hallway.  It’s the sound of your mother’s laugh -- clear in a way you haven’t heard in a very long time -- and it’s definitely not coming from her room.

“Eomma?” you call out as you walk towards the sound.  A peal of Jinjoo’s laughter rings out next and you smile, following it.

You round the corner to the living room and your mouth drops open when you spot your mother, fully dressed for the first time in ages, sitting on the formal couch.  Jinjoo is seated next to her, both women smiling and laughing at --

Oh God.

Namjoon stands from his seat on the opposite couch when your eyes meet his.  His cheeks are pinked from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and he looks so handsome that for a moment you forget how to think.  

“Welcome home,” he says, dimples emerging from his slow, careful smile.

You stare back at him, rooted to the spot.  Your face warms when you realize that every single eye in the room is trained on you, awaiting your next move.

“Do you -- ” Namjoon clears his throat, “ -- do you think I could have a minute of your time?”

“What are you doing here?” you say, blowing right past his question.

Jinjoo makes a disapproving sound under her breath.

“Ttal,” your mother interjects with a tone that borders very close to warning, “Mister Kim came by to talk to you.  He kept the two of us company until you came home.”

You turn to look at her and -- is she wearing lipstick?

“Yes,” Namjoon adds quickly, turning the warmth of his smile back to your mother and Jinjoo. “And they’ve been wonderful company. Thank you, ladies.”

The two of them titter like schoolgirls enjoying the attention of the most popular boy in school while you just stare.

And stare.

“Ttal?”

Your mother’s voice breaks through your mental fog.  You look back at her and Jinjoo and both women appear to be holding their breath, awaiting your response.  Jinjoo’s eyes are pleading when they meet yours, silently begging you to play nice.

You turn back to Namjoon slowly.

“One minute.”

“Great,” he breathes, shoving a hand through his hair.

“Not here.”

The words come out more sharply than you’d intended and your mother’s eyes go wide. Jinjoo sighs.

“What I mean to say,” you start again, delivery clumsy, “Is that we should probably step outside.”

“Of course,” Namjoon agrees.

You will your leaden legs and feet to cooperate as you turn to leave, grabbing your coat from the foyer closet on the way.  You slip it on and lead Namjoon out to the front porch, immediately wincing at the bitter cold that greets you.  

The door clicks shut and you burrow deep into your coat, turning to face him.  You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blossoms in your chest when his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Your mother seems to be doing well tonight,” Namjoon notes. “I’m glad to see it.”

It’s not fair.  It’s not fair that he can just show up here on a whim -- looking like that, talking like that.  

Charming everyone in his path.  

“Namjoon, I’m going to ask again.  What are you doing here?”

The smile on his face falls and he looks skyward, exhaling a puff of steam into the cold night air.

”I’m here to come clean,” he confesses quietly.  “Thought I might do this new thing where I try not to act like an idiot around you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, stomach fluttering wildly in response.

A lock of his hair falls over his eye when he looks back down and you smother the urge to brush it back, hands balling into fists in your pockets.

“Thought I might do this new thing where I just tell you the truth.”

You’ve tried so hard these past few days to be angry with him, to use your hurt feelings like a wall around your heart.  But you can’t anymore.  He looks down at you with those huge, dark eyes and your grudge falls apart.

“I care about you,” he admits.  “I’ve been stumbling over my own feet for weeks because I didn’t know how to approach you about it. And then that night in the office,” he trails off, looking pained.  “That is not how I intended to treat you.”

A gust of wind blows through and you curl into yourself, teeth chattering.  Namjoon pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders.  

“Please don’t,” you protest weakly.  “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t,” he promises, stepping closer.  

You wrap the wool tight around your body, enjoying the way his lingering heat and scent wrap around you at the same time.  Your heart is beating so wildly you can hear your pulse in your ears.

“Namjoon,” you whisper. “You must know I feel the same way.”

He reaches one hand up to stroke his fingers across your cheek.

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

He’s so close now that all it would take is the slightest tip of your chin, the most incremental change in angle to press your mouth to his. But he doesn’t close the small distance between you.  His gaze shifts to the street and you follow it, only now realizing a black sedan has been idling outside your house this entire time.  

Your cheeks flame hot at the thought of his driver witnessing this exchange.

“I want a chance to do this the right way,” he murmurs.  “Can I have it?”

You nod, waiting for your mouth to catch up to your brain.  “Of course.”

He smiles wide then, the kind of smile you haven’t seen on him in a long time and once again you’re struck by how handsome he is.  He narrows his eyes playfully when he realizes you are staring.

“Let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

You nod, pulling off his coat and watching as he shrugs back into it. He grabs for your hand, fingers brushing against yours just as you reach for the door.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you say softly.  

He squeezes your cold fingers with his.

“Good night.”

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

Namjoon sends his driver for you.

You shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the sleek car, avoiding Chun’s gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.  Up until now, you knew him only as the voice on the other end of the line when you’d arranged for Namjoon’s rides.

Now you’re matching a face with a voice -- and so is he.

You try not to dwell on how this must look after the scene outside your home just a few nights ago.  Especially now that he’s been tasked with taking you to Namjoon’s penthouse.

It’s embarrassing, certainly -- but even this pales in comparison to what you’d had to endure before leaving the house.  

When your mother had asked you to come see her and casually inquired about the last time you’d shaved your legs.  When Jinjoo had made a point of letting you know that she was planning on staying all night long just as you were walking out the door.

That was definitely the most embarrassing part.

That’s why you feel a knot in your stomach as the security guard in Namjoon’s building escorts you personally up to the very top floor -- the one accessible only by keycard.  That’s why you find yourself holding your breath right until the very moment Namjoon opens the door.

Then you let go of that breath.

“Thank you, Jaejin,” he greets, bowing in the man’s direction.  He turns his attention to you and the knot in your stomach explodes into butterflies.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with a careful smile.  

As if you had any choice in the matter.  You kick your brain into gear and remind yourself to stop staring and smile back as the door shuts behind you.  

He takes your coat and you take him in.

It’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him look, barefoot in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled to the elbows.  He looks fresh from a shower, skin glistening and golden.  The scent of him --- clean and male and intoxicating -- wafts over you.

Followed by a far less enticing one.

“Namjoon,” your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell,  “Is something burning?”

“Something was burning,” he admits sheepishly. “But it’s not anymore.  And you -- “ he pauses to let his gaze rake over you, “ -- you look incredible.”

Heat creeps up your neck and into your face, making you feel just a touch too warm in your brand new sweater.  

“Thank you,” you reply, accepting his compliment with a shy smile. “So do you.”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you clear your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the admiration in his eyes.

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe the words through a nervous laugh. “That sounds great, actually.”  You hope it’s not obvious that you’re jumping at the chance to take the edge off of your jitters.

Namjoon leaves you standing in his grand living room as he heads to the kitchen to pour the wine.  You’ve always known he was a wealthy man -- but knowing that in the abstract and seeing it firsthand are two different things entirely.  You take in the massive wall-to-wall windows and gleaming marble floors and custom-made art pieces with silent awe.

Namjoon interrupts your gawking when he returns with your wine.

“So about dinner,” he starts with a chuckle. “It’s on the way.  I attempted to cook something, but as you already know that didn’t quite work out.  Not surprising, seeing as I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise.  “Never?”

“Never,” he says with a smile.  “I’ve never brought anyone to this apartment, either.”

His smile vanishes then, a more serious look taking its place.  You swallow thickly as you let the implication of that statement wash over you.

“No one?”

“No one,” he confirms quietly.

Your lips part with surprise and Namjoon looks away, like he’s admitted too much -- and you stand there spinning your wheels, searching for something to say.

The sound of the door chime is a well-timed and welcome interruption.

Namjoon heads to the door to accept the food and you realize the same security guard who escorted you up here is making the delivery.  It makes sense, of course, that only a trusted few could get this close to Namjoon’s private space.

“Are you expecting more people?” you tease with a smile when the guard wheels in a cart weighted down with enough food to feed an army.  

Relief washes over you when Namjoon smiles back. The strange moment that passed between you before is forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything.”

Pleasant smells emanating from the carefully-packed containers fill the apartment, pushing away the burnt one still lingering from the food that’s been relegated to the trash.

“Just so you know,” you laugh, “I like all of it.”  

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

The centerpiece of Namjoon’s outrageously opulent great room is the fireplace.  

Your fingers wrap tight around the stem of your wine glass as you stare into the flames and contemplate how this night will end.

You know how you want it to end.  

You know the dozens of debauched fantasies you’ve entertained about Namjoon -- the myriad ways he’s had you in your mind.  But there’s no way for you to know what his intentions are, how he expects this night to end.

That’s why you’re strung tight as a bow as you hear him clearing plates and cleaning up in the kitchen.  The sounds eventually slow and then stop.  And you wait.

You don’t hear him approach.  

You come out of your thoughts and look away from the flames and he’s just there, standing in front of the couch wearing an expression you can’t read.  The wine starts to wobble inside your glass, set in motion by your unsteady hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, reaching for it. “Let me.”

He takes the glass and places it on the coffee table, sinking into the space next to you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs.  “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He leans in and reaches out to thread his hands into your hair.

“Namjoon,” you whisper weakly, pulse leaping in response.  

His eyes seem to darken at the sound of his name. His fingers slip out of your hair and under your jaw, tipping your chin up and compelling you to meet his gaze.  

“I told you I was going to do this the right way,” he murmurs, “And I meant it.  After that night in my office, I promised myself I was never going to put you in that position again.”

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips involuntarily, as if the action could take the place of the words you want so badly to say.  

But Namjoon makes no move, fingers firm under your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes gently. “If you want this -- if you want me, tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

The words come out in a rush, laced with such desperation they sound like a plea, not an order.  A smile tugs the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and he nods.

Carefully, deliberately, he sinks his mouth onto yours.

You sigh against the press of his lips as the pads of his fingers stroke the side of your face.  For a moment you can’t think; can’t process a thing beyond the spice on his tongue from the Buldak or how impossibly soft his lips feel against yours.  

He kisses you until you can’t breathe -- and just a moment beyond that -- until you are forced to pull away, chest heaving.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admits, panting.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids,” you confess, emboldened.

He leans close again, eyes half-lidded, lips grazing yours.

“Well, we’re not kids anymore.”

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

NAMJOON

Namjoon has to force himself not to totally fucking devour you.

You are finally in his hands and the urge to unleash months of wait and want on you is so strong he has to take a physical step back.

You look up at him from where you sit on his bed -- hair mussed from his fingers, lips swollen from his kisses -- and he hesitates, unsure of his next move.

“If you’re thinking you don’t want to -- “ you start.  

Namjoon cuts you off with a strangled laugh.

“Trust me, that’s not what I’m thinking,” he vows, shoving a hand through his hair.  “It’s like I’ve wanted you so bad for so long I don’t even know where to start.”

Your eyes soften as you gaze at him.

Namjoon holds his breath as he watches you slip out of your sweater and then out of your jeans.  You lie back against his sheets, eyes holding steady contact with his.

“Start anywhere,” you breathe quietly.  “Start everywhere.  Just start.  Please.”

Fuck, you are going to be his undoing.

It takes him an irritatingly long time to work the buttons of his shirt open on account of his thick, clumsy fingers.  He finally manages to get out of it and his jeans follow right behind.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” you murmur as he slides into the bed next to you.  His fingers rake over the soft skin of your stomach and you jerk under his fingertips, body reacting immediately to his touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Namjoon smiles when you use his own words against him.  

He dips his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply -- savoring the soft, sweet smell of your skin.  He mouths at your pulse point, feeling it race in response when his fingers trail lower to tease the delicate band of your panties.

“I figured out where I want to start,” he murmurs, sucking gently at the hollow of your collarbone.  

He feels your deep intake of breath when he slips one hand into the satin, grazing against your mound.  He shifts lower, allowing one finger to dip into your center, groaning at the wetness he finds waiting for him there.

“So responsive, Jagiya,” he praises softly.  “So beautiful.”

You make a needy sound, hips lifting off the bed as you chase the pressure of his fingers.  He turns to capture your lips again with his own, simultaneously working two fingers into the tight space between your thighs.

“Namjoon,” you sigh brokenly, “F-feels so good.”

“I can do better,” he promises.  “Turn over for me.”

He waits for you to comply, body shifting in the bed.  Once you are face down, he climbs over you, dipping his mouth to the shell of your ear, biting gently on the soft skin.  You shiver underneath him, moaning softly.

Slowly, he kisses a line down the back of your neck, hands stopping just long enough to undo the clasp to your bra.  He slips it off of you, reaching under you to tease at your nipples with his fingertips.  He chuckles low with satisfaction when you twitch under his fingertips.

He continues his descent, dropping kisses along the soft line of your back.  His hands reach your panties and he pulls them off, mouth sucking gently at the base of your spine.

“Namjoon,” you gasp, the sound of your plea is muffled as you press your face into the sheets. “Touch me.”

He sinks one long finger into you then, savoring the tight pull of your heat as his tongue flicks out to taste you.  Your hips jerk off the bed and he uses both strong hands to urge your legs further apart.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, mouth closing over your wet center.  

He pushes a second finger into you and you shudder at the fullness, back arching.  The movement angles your cunt even closer and Namjoon seizes the opportunity, tongue firm as he swipes it against you.

He can tell how badly you want this.  He can feel it in the way your thighs tremble while he’s working you with his fingers and tongue.  He can hear it in the way you whimper when he nips gently at you with his teeth.

“Namjoon,” the tilt to your voice makes it sound like you are on the verge of tears.  “Please -- I c-can’t -- ”  Your thought evaporates into thin air when he groans directly into your center, curling his fingers deep against the spot inside of you that draws a sharp gasp.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs his encouragement as you buck against his grip.  “Come for me, Jagiya.”

He looks up just long enough to see your fingers twisted into the sheets, face buried deep into the pillow as you fall apart in his hands.  You make the prettiest sounds as you succumb.  Somewhere in the midst of your frantic whispering he hears his name and the sound goes straight to his cock, making the ache there almost impossible to ignore.  

He ignores it anyway -- pushing the feeling aside to ride out the tremors with you, relishing the taste of your release on his tongue.  He praises you, savors you, keeps you anchored to his mouth until your hips drop flush to the bed with exhaustion.

Then he kisses his way back up the line of your spine, dropping down at your side.  You look so deliciously sated and flushed when you turn over that Namjoon can’t help the slow smile that comes over him.

You kiss it right off.

You fit your body against his -- slick skin against slick skin -- and kiss Namjoon so hard it takes him by surprise.  Your hands dive into his hair, mouth desperate against his.

Namjoon chuckles under his breath at your newfound boldness, fingers reaching to tease at one pebbled nipple.  Your body jolts in response and you answer with a move of your own, one hand sliding across the hard plane of his stomach and into his boxers.  

Up until this very moment, he’s been able to ignore the insistent throbbing between his own legs.  But the moment your fingers wrap around him -- the moment you start to pump your hand gently over him -- it becomes his only thought.

“Shit,” he groans, breaking the kiss to inhale deeply,  “God, that feels good.”

You pull away to maneuver your body over his.  

Namjoon watches through hooded eyes as you pull his boxers down his legs and then turn your attention to his straining cock.  He takes his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the noise he makes when your mouth descends onto him.

The moments that follow are a test of the last shreds of Namjoon’s self-control.  

The wet warmth of your mouth surrounds him, tongue teasing at the sensitive places that make his hips jerk and his mouth drop open in surrender.  Your grip around his cock stays firm, mouth soft in contrast -- both sensations almost too much to bear at once.

He slips a hand in your hair to push back the strands that have fallen into your face and you release him with a pop, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy and wide.  

He nearly comes right then and there.

“No more,” he croaks, voice hoarse with arousal.  “That’s all I can take.”

The smile you return is nothing short of victorious.  Namjoon rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, more than ready to retake his position of control.   Your eyes are sparkling with laughter and he grins back.

“You like seeing me at your mercy, huh?” he teases, dropping kisses into the crook of your neck.  

“I do,” you admit, shuddering when he slips one hand back down to the apex of your thighs.  “It’s nice to be the one in charge for a change.”

Namjoon kisses you slowly then, taking himself in hand to slide the head of his stiff cock against the wetness spilling from your entrance.  He pulls up on his arms and looks down at you just to appreciate the way you look right now, hair splayed across his pillow and skin luminous against his sheets.  

“You’ve always been in charge, Jagiya,” he breathes, enjoying the way your cheeks pink in response.  “Just like you’re in charge right now. So tell me what you want.”

The humor disappears from your eyes then, replaced by something heady and dark.  

Namjoon sucks in a breath when your hand wraps back around his cock, guiding him back to your entrance.  He throbs with need under your fingertips, muscles locked tight with anticipation.

“This -- ” you murmur, tilting your hips up to take him in, “ -- is what I want.”  

Namjoon sinks down carefully then, slowly -- choking back a moan at the unbearably tight grip of your walls.  You gasp, nails digging into his back as he strokes to the hilt.  

“This is what you want?” he goads, feeling powerful now, drunk on the sight of you writhing beneath him. He pulls back and surges forward again, drawing a desperate moan from you.  “Like this?”

You wrap your legs around him, hands sliding down the slick skin of his back until your fingers are gripping his ass, urging him to move faster.

“Yes,” you manage on a shaky breath.  “Like that.  Over and over and over.”

Namjoon buries his smile against your breasts, tonguing at your nipples as his hips piston against you.  He nips at one with his teeth and you whine, back arching off the bed.  

“You’re made for me,” he groans, panting his praise in between deep strokes, “So tight and wet I can’t think.”

You hum your contentment into his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss.  He slips one hand under your ass, dragging you deeper into his heavy strokes and you cry out.  

He’s always hated the echo in this place.  But hearing the sound of your voice calling his name echoing off the walls is an entirely different story.  It lights a fire inside of him -- making him move faster, harder -- desperate to hear it again.

“Namjoon -- “ your hands claw at his back as you cling to him.  “ -- I think, I think I’m going -- “

“You will,” he rasps, when you lose all hope of finishing that thought.

He sinks his thumb into his mouth before dragging it down to rub slow circles across your aching clit and you clamp down around him in response.  He chokes on his own moan, summoning just enough control to keep himself from exploding inside of you.

But then you start to unravel.

In those final moments, you feel hotter and wetter -- begging brokenly in his ear for some kind of relief.  Namjoon holds off until the tight grip of your cunt starts to pulse around him and then he gives in.  He comes so hard his vision darkens before it comes back.  

Then he collapses on top of you, panting and wrecked.

You press a kiss into his neck and rake your nails gently up and down his back.

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

Namjoon wakes up alone.

He should be used to the feeling by now, but after last night -- after you -- he can’t help but feel disappointed.  

He shoves a hand through his hair, slips into a pair of lounge pants and heads to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Then he stops in his tracks.

You are standing in front of the massive window in his living room, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, holding a mug of coffee in one hand.  You sip it thoughtfully and look out over the city, seemingly unaware of his presence.

So Namjoon just stands there for a while, admiring your long legs and soft skin and the dark hair that spills down your back.  Admiring the way you make this place bearable just by existing in it.

“Thought you left me,” he says quietly, and you startle out of your reverie at the sound of his voice.

“I did leave you,” you feign a serious expression, nodding at your mug. “For this. Thought you’d understand.”

“That I do,” he laughs, padding across the room to join you at the window.  

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and you smile up at him.

“What are you thinking about this morning?” Namjoon presses quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sip your coffee and look back out the window before answering.

“I was just thinking about the day I came to ask for you a job,” you confess.  “How afraid and alone I felt back then.”

Namjoon can still remember how he felt seeing you walk into his office after all those years.   It certainly wasn’t afraid or alone and his chest squeezes at your admission.

“And now?”

“Now I feel …” you trail off as you turn back to look up at him.  “... like everything’s going to be okay.”

He stares back at you, suddenly overwhelmed by how good this feels.  

By how good it feels to be needed by you.  

By how you in his shirt, in his apartment, in his life, makes total sense.  

By how it feels like you belong here.

With him.

“You’re right, Jagiya.  Everything is going to be okay,” Namjoon vows, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair.   “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

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

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

Amsaja: Lioness

Jaegyueo: Jaguar

TAG LIST:

@prettyguardiansailormin​​​ @barbikatherine​ @55west81st​ @laabellaavitaa21​ @codeinebelle​ @jalexad​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @poohsaidhi​​ @eltrain80​​ @bluewhale52​​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @midnighttifa​​ @krystle1990​​ @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​​ @hauntedlilies​​ @kjooniesbabygirl​​ @unicorn5090​​ @parkjimin-persona​​ @kosicastairs​​ @julia-pacheco-blog​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @katbonv​​ @sunkissed725​​ @yourdaydreamerfan​​

[someonewhowannadielol]

My name is 01001010 01001011 (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)

Summary: “So you’re a human?” The alien that looked and acted like a human asked. The only difference between him and you was that he had two upside down triangles starting from his jaw going down under his shirt. Also, he was huge. “I’m talking 8 foot tall” huge.

Warning: Daddy kink, Dirty talk, size kink, cunt slapping, Jungkook being rlly big, fingering, nipple sucking (?), Dom/sub themes, and Jungkook being a curious alien.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

COVID-19 vs Human kind. Human kind was pretty much fucked. In front of your eyes, the world population went from a staggering 8 billion people to an exponentially low 1 million. Within two years. It was in October 2020, when scientist realized that instead of working on a vaccine, they needed to discover a place where those free from this deadly disease could live. Safely and peacefully.

Then, the people of Jubal, stepped in, and it was pure chaos. You still remember the day, 14thof December 2020. Everywhere; social media platforms, billboards, NASA’s speech, everything revolved around the message they sent us. They wanted to help us. Surprisingly, we knew nothing about them, but they knew everything about us. From our appearance to our food, cultures, languages, and what not. It low key creeped you out, not going to lie.

Nonetheless, we began building the transport link through their help and finally, one year later (pretty much the brink of our extinction), we were on our way to a new life.

Honestly, you had imagined them to look like- or well, to not look like how they looked. You’d expected Pokémons, or weird looking octopus, or even insects. But they looked just like you, expect they were way bigger in size.

After half a month or so, you had started to get used to the atmosphere. Almost similar to Earth, there were two sides to this planet, a much hotter plane, where the temperature never went below 104 Fahrenheit. You remember going there when you first arrived here, and oh god, you hated it. The temperature was too high for you; they didn’t know what ice cream was (how can they not know! You thought they knew everything, yet they’re unaware about one of the most popular desserts on Earth), you absolutely hated sweating and no amount of air conditioning could stop it, and the beach just looked out of place. The sand wasn’t the usual pale brown shade, instead it was just the color of the ocean itself – it adapted to the shade of the flowing water into a green-blue hue. Weird. Also, there was one sun in the morning, and three in the evening, gradually coming as the hours passed by.  

You had also noticed that all of them ate food at the same temperature. Nothing was cold like ice, or hot like a fresh pizza. The concept was new to them, and when you asked for the water to be cold at the first restaurant you went to – the waiter just looked lost. The poor soul, he was told to make the humans feel at home, so when he realized he couldn’t do what you asked to, you just felt really bad. Still, it was funny that a seven-foot tall man was scared of you being uncomfortable. It was cute, honestly.

Also, almost similar to Earth, the two places had different types of Jubals living there. The sunny side had more tan skinned people, with bright, blond hair and bright eyes. Whereas, the cold plane Jubals had fairer skin, darker hair and doe eyes. The one similarity being – they were huge as fuck. The average height was around seven foot for men, and around six foot for females. So, standing at a 5 foot 2 inches (almost three inches I swear!), you felt tiny (and intimidated sometimes, but you weren’t going to admit that.

After finalizing that you definitely didn’t want to live in the hotter part of the planet, you moved to Corellia, it was cold there but not in the way you expected it to be. In the morning, it was perfectly fine, the cold breeze was nothing short of comfortable, but as the evening came, it started to get cold to the point where you couldn’t bear to go outside after 6 PM. Sometimes, you think you might have underestimated the cold here at night, because the two beautiful moons brought such intense cold that you wouldn’t dare go out at night. They gifted you a cozy one bed apartment with a really good heating system, which you appreciated. Also, you had never been so glad that you brought the microwave from Earth, without it, you didn’t know what you would do.

Ever since you moved, you had pretty much been lonely, because of the lack of contact with humans. Most of them preferred to live in the hotter state, wanting to get tanned - and to fuck the surfer Jubal hotties. You still remember parting with your sister and her ranting about this Jubal she met who was so “dreamy” and “good at surfing”.

As usual, you were just trying to get used to the food here, thankfully, they had a smaller section of “human,” food that mostly consisted of cup noodles, vegetables, chicken and chocolates. Getting groceries was intimidating at first (honestly, it kind of still is), because everyone and everything was so large, and everyone just kept staring at you. You still haven’t interacted with a Jubal on your own, it’s not like you were scared – you were – but also you didn’t really know how to go up to one. Until now, the only two Jubals you’ve met were the grocery store cashier and the landlord. Sigh.

You were so happy when you saw the new addition of real, organic milk in the grocery aisle! Thank god you got a break from that horrid almond milk. It was just water pretending to be milk honestly, and whenever you poured it in your cereal, it felt like drowning them in water, yuck. But, as much as you could try, you just would not reach the goddamn shelf. Why did these Jubals have to be so tall! Why couldn’t they just make this aisle according to human size!

You heard someone shuffle behind, but paid no heed until you heard laughter burst and immediately looked back to see one of them laughing so hard, his body shook.

“You- you’re so tiny!” He barely managed to get that sentence out of him, since he couldn’t stop his outburst.  

Of course, you were offended.

“I’m actually not! You all are way too big!” You didn’t really know how to respond, because this was just so sudden.

“Hm, I don’t think so, you’re smaller than average earthlings. But it’s okay, because it’s adorable,” so, you were really surprised when you felt him behind you, reach up to the milk shelf and grab a container of it. Of course, being the dumb idiot you were, you suddenly turned around and had to face him again. You hadn’t noticed his physical features before, but now that you did. Holy shit.

He was tall (I know, it’s obvious by now), and had such, clear, fair skin. Two upside down triangles were on each side of his jaw and went down, disappearing under his coat. He looked at you with such doe, curious eyes, almost as if he was entertained by your mere presence.

“Here you go,” he handed you the container of milk – while still being really close (not that you minded it). Despite the irritatingly bright fluorescent store lighting, his hair shined, and looked so soft.

And after that, he just followed you around the store, and you honestly didn’t really know what to do.

“You know, I’ve been trying to find a human since a month now, but I’ve heard most of them moved to the Southern part. You should’ve done that too, because Corellia is too cold for you. You’re a little slow,”

And you’re a little piece of shit.

“But now I found you. You’re really adorable, the books didn’t tell me that. Ever since humankind moved here, I’ve been really studying Earth. Did you guys really had pink leaved trees? And forests? It must be so cool for so many trees to be in one place. I also really want to meet a lion,”

“You can’t just meet a lion,” you chuckled, he was weird, but somehow, it wasn’t awkward around him. He radiated this warm energy that you hadn’t seen in the Jubal people around you, and it was comforting, made you want to stay by his side – even if it meant answering his dumb questions.

“I can, you can’t. It would eat you, because you’re bite sized for it,” he continued to comment on your petite stature, and the worst part is that you couldn’t even defend yourself, especially when he kept towering over you.

“Hey! Stop making fun of me,” you tried to push him but the basket was too heavy for you, so you ended up just… awkwardly not being able to do it. Suddenly his – huge – hand swoops in and carries the heavy grocery basket as if it was nothing.

“You should’ve told me it was too heavy for you,” he sounded almost as if he was scolding you, and coo-ing at you at the same time. His eyebrows bunched up in frustration as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘how can I protect you if you won’t tell me what you need,’ but you couldn’t really make out what he said.

You were just pulled out of your thoughts when you heard him put something in your basket. Something that the Jubals ate, not humans.

Should I ask him to leave? No, that’s way too rude. Then, should I ask him why he’s following me?

“This is delicious, you should try it,” He spoke while continuing to look around the store, and put random items in your basket. There was a variation of their fruits (this one had a gradient of yellow and orange, with huge spikes coming out from the top), cans with God-knows-what inside (the one he put in your basket had cherry colored pentagons on it, and a juice bottle that contained neon green juice. You were not looking forward to drinking that.

“I don’t even know how to make all of this. What if I can’t eat it?” You were scared of most of these food items, you got sick easily, and didn’t know how to cope if you fell sick here. Without the medicines, you’d probably die.

“I’ll cook it for you if you want to,” He looked at you and smiled, “I know humans are fragile, so don’t worry, I made sure to get the ones which would be safe for you,” he said, while petting your hair, and smiling. You instantly fell in love with it, it wasn’t like the way he laughed at you earlier, but somehow, it was far more beautiful. His eyes crunched up into half-moons, cheeks being bunched up, he almost looked like the small bunny you had as a pet when you were younger. So. Cute.

“But I don’t even know your name, why would you do this for me?” You really were curious, why was a Jubal so interested in humans? So far, most of them have just maintained a distance from you.

“Because I want to keep you,” he looked at you, and the duality of his presence made you shiver. The small bunny smile morphed into a more serious face, his already dark brown eyes, turned into a slightly darker shade, giving you the chills.

“You can’t keep me,” you didn’t know how to fight this argument, you almost wanted to laugh and act as if you thought it was a joke, but you weren’t an idiot – and nor was he.

“I know, I can’t find the Earth word for it, I want to be with you, is what I mean,” he mumbled as he tried to find something in the cereal aisle.

The grocery trip was actually not as weird as you’d expect it to be. While you both didn’t know anything about each other, not even names (not that Jubals had actual names, they just talked through their minds?)

And as soon as you reached the cashier, before you could even take out your money, he nod, and paid the bill.

“Hey! I can pay for myself, you don’t have to do this!”  

Honestly, you didn’t really know what to say after he said, “I’m paying, now be a good baby and stand still,” where did he even learn to speak like that?

It was starting to get cold now, and after you exited the heated mall, it was visible that you shivered every time the cold brushed up against your figure. You should’ve worn the third sweater, sigh.

“So you’re really a human?” He said, as he carried your groceries and followed you, on your way to the apartment.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,”

“How can you be a Y/N? You just said you were a human,” He asked, really confused. Were you pranking him? He learnt in (one of his many books about humans) that humans liked to prank each other for entertainment. He found the idea amusing, but right now he couldn’t decide whether you were pranking or joking.

He didn’t understand the difference between pranking and joking, either.

“I-  What? No, I mean I am a human, but my name is Y/N,” you were definitely amused at his seriousness, yet you couldn’t help but be intimidated by his tall figure. Also, you felt bad that he was holding all the groceries, so you decided to grab one of the bags from him.

“Y/N!” He stopped dead in his tracks after your fingers brushed against his, “I just remembered you can’t bear the cold after 6pm, so you have to wear many clothes to protect yourself. You’re already so cold,” he felt your hand, and his was so warm and felt right, intertwined in your hand. His hand was so huge, that it enveloped yours easily, and you could really notice the size difference now. 

He quickly transferred all the grocery bags into his left hand, and continued to give you his coat, and held your hand again, and it felt… nice. The fact that he smelled so good, helped too, you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was really comforting. 

You were quite used to the stares you got on the streets from other Jubals, and always thought that they would go away, but it’s been two weeks, yet they still continue to look at you up and down, so you finally asked him. You still didn’t know his name, and didn’t know whether you should ask him or not, was it insulting?

“Why does everyone keep staring at me?”

“Because you’re so cute,”

What. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. How could he say that all of a sudden, out of the blue? Also, you actually could not breathe, because while he had long legs that lasted for days, you had much smaller legs and it was starting to get hard to keep up.

“Hey! Could you walk-” you took in a breath, wow, your stamina was really, uh, shitty, “could you walk a little slow?”

He looked back at you, and tilted his head almost as to ask ‘why?’, but understood quickly. Then, he flashed one of his cute smiles, again, the smile that did things to your heart that you hadn’t felt before.

“Do you want me to carry you?” He also had read previously that humans can get really tired, and sometimes not even have the strength to move on. Especially females, they were more fragile, and he could physically see that too, because you were just so small. The average height was supposed to be 5’4 or even 5’6 for human females around your age, but you seemed smaller than that. But you also didn’t seem to be a child because those under the age 18 were always with their parents right? He had almost started to doubt those textbooks he bought on humans.

“No, I can walk myself,” You tried to defend yourself, and started to mentally curse as to why you asked him to slow down.

You finally reached your apartment door. Honestly, you had thought that he would stop following you after you reached the apartment building… but he just continued to bring the groceries in.

Should you invite him in? Did you even clean your living space? You probably had your underwear lying all over the place, since now you lived alone and had no fear of someone else coming in your private space.

“Can I come in?”

Well, you didn’t want to say no to him, he’s been really nice so far, and you had to admit, picking up groceries was really hard to do, and you weren’t exactly physically active enough to carry all those bags that he easily carried in one hand.

He then walked himself to the door after putting the groceries in the kitchen. What really surprised you was how he looked back at you, not how he looked before. Before, he looked with warmth, and now. Now, he almost towered at you, reminding how much power he really has over you. He looked at your lips, and then back at your eyes and tilted his head.

“W-well, it was really nice to meet you,” you said trying to break the tension and to distract yourself from the obviously gorgeous man.

“I hope to see your cute face again soon,” he smiled one of his bunny smiles again, and kissed you on the cheek before disappearing under the stairs.

You curled yourself up in your blanket, and tried to sleep, but that Jubal kept intruding your thoughts. 

Would you get to see him again?

The next time you saw the cute Jubal from the grocery store was next week Saturday. On Earth, entertainment was in the form of movies, arcades and concerts. Similarly, here too, people had a theatre – instead of a movie on a projector, it was shown in 3D form, almost like a live performance, expect there were holographic figures.

You looked around, and by now you had taken into account that Jubal people weren’t afraid to show off their skin – even though it was crazy cold here, their bigger bodies could compensate by giving them more body heat. Unfortunately, your smaller stature couldn’t provide you with the same amount of heat and you always had to bundle up in three or even four layers to keep yourself from freezing or catching a cold.

You were watching a really heated up scene, and it was getting kind of… uncomfortable. While others were simply watching casually, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, you kept shuffling in your seat – so it was a pleasant surprise when you felt someone cover your eyes from behind you.

“Wha-” instinctively, you looked behind, and it was the same boy (or man?), from the grocery store.

“Hey,” again, you waved at him, almost as a form of habit, and he looked at you as if you did something quite weird. Without any questions, he tried to imitate you, but he was really stiff so you couldn’t help but let you a laugh.

“I know I didn’t introduce myself much better last time, but we don’t really have names. Still, I decided to get one for myself, because once I get a human, she should be able to call me something,”

Did he… did he mean that you were his human?

“Well, what did you settle for?”

“My name is 01001010 01001011. I thought it was really similar to the ones that humans have. Do you like it?” He asked with a proud grin, as his face lit up.

You tried to keep your laughter in, you really did but you when it did come out, you felt like wanting to die. His face crumpled up almost as if he was ashamed of his name as he increased the distance between the two of you.

Nice one, Y/N, you made the only person who cared enough for you sad.

“Hey, look, it’s a nice name, it’s just not very human-like,” you explained to him.

“It’s the binary code for a human name,”

Because of the constant conversation you both were immersed in, the Jubals beside you were starting to get annoyed – and while they didn’t say anything, probably because they didn’t want you to feel bad (you still did, for trying to ruin their experience for this live-movie thing), you decided to head out with him.

As you both walked in one of the main parks situated in the middle of Corellia state, he settled on a spot in the corner of the massive area.

“Would you like to give me a name?” he looked at your face with such intensity, that you couldn’t help but feel insecure and want to cover your face.

“Well, what did those binary numbers represent?” you really did want to help his get a name, after all, he was your first friend here.

“I want to be called JK, but my friends told me it was a ridiculous human name, because no one was named JK before. So I settled for its binary number. They approved of that,” his eyes shone of much when he talked about it, his long lashes were uprightly curved and you couldn’t help but swoon.

You fiddled with your sweater as you gave him suggestions, but none seemed to suit him.

“Jake? No,” you were starting to get frustrated at this, “Hm, maybe Jacob?” you shook your head again, unsatisfied.

He just simply continued to laugh at you being so serious, occasionally playing with hair and pressing a finger to your soft cheeks. When he commented on you being soft, you couldn’t help but blush (and when he compared you to one their red fruits, you couldn’t help but blush harder (you denied it, obviously)).

“Jungkook!” you remember reading that word in one of the books you had in high school literature.

“Jungkook? Do you like it, baby?” He played with your cheeks with happiness, he was happy that you were no longer frustrated or angry. Finally satisfied and happy. Of course, you blushed at the word of endearment, but didn’t tell him to not say it.

Oh. Well, after that, he just continued to ask you about humans, and more specifically about you. You were amused by most of his questions,

“What is sarcasm?”

“Why do you like pizza so much, when it’s detrimental for your health? You shouldn’t eat it, I’ll make good food for you,”

“How do you make stereotypes?”

“Why do people get cosmetic surgery?”

And each one of them seemed normal for a Jubal to ask until,

“Why do humans like cuddling?”  

At this point, you were quite tired, but still thought it would rude to ask him out, because he seemed really curious, every question coming right after you answer the last one.

“I guess, we just like to be touchy and close,” you said and you tried to suppress a yawn, but it just slipped.

“What was that? Was that a sigh? Or a yawn? Are you tired? That was so cute, do it again,”

“Just a little tired,” you said as you rested you head on his shoulder without realizing to do so. It was also getting really cold; the second moon had started to show up.

You both got up, and the walk back home was really pleasant. He kept cracking jokes and dancing on the pavement. You tried to imitate his dance, but your flow wasn’t as steady as his. How could someone dance so good like this, yet not be able to wave correctly? Your fingers intertwined again, and you leaned more into his body this time. You could barely reach his mid chest, that’s how tall he was. But somehow, you didn’t mind it because you both fit so perfectly – as if two parts of one puzzle.

As you reached the door of your apartment door again, you felt Deja-vu. He looked at your face, studying it carefully and looking back at your eyes, however instead of just looking at your lips this time, he leaned closer and looked back at you – almost as if asking for permission to kiss you. You nodded, and wow.

As his lips drew closer to yours, you could feel him cupping your face with both hands, one of them gradually descending to the back of your head as it found its place in your hair. They were incredibly soft, and almost overpowered you, because you didn’t expect this. As he slid his tongue and slowed himself, you found yourself wanting more, leaning towards him.

Before realizing that you needed to breathe, you started to choke, as he pulled himself back, and chuckled before saying, “Baby girl, take it slow, I’m all yours.”

“Want more,” is all you can say before leaning towards him, wanting to kiss him again. But unlucky for you, he just moved back before laughing again, and this time you pouted and slightly punched his chest.

“Now, you’re just being a brat, baby, you’ll get what I’ll give you, understand?” You could feel his breath fanning your face, and his eyes were no longer twinkling like they did, but instead were full of lust and an animalistic hunger.

‘’Jungkook, please,” you had never really been serious with boys in your high school, and so, this was the first time you had actually felt something down there. It was almost like someone – or Jungkook – lit a fire in your core, and you couldn’t help but just want more.

Fumbling hands opened the door to the apartment and you both tumbled in, messily but both of you didn’t care as you headed to your bedroom. On the way, he messily kissed your neck that made your knees buckle in a way that even walking was difficult.

He tossed you gently on your bed, that was way too big for the apartment, and ran his fingers through your hair, to you neck, and to your chest. He attacked your neck again, and started to form a pattern with his tongue as he pressed harder on some areas and trailed lighter on others.

You couldn’t help but let a whine escape your mouth when he left your neck unattended to take off your sweaters and cardigans till you were only in your undergarments and a see-through white dress.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he attacked your lips again, this time being harsher with his movements, as his tongue slipped in your mouth, doing wonders to his body.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you felt so much, so sudden, and even in this cold, the heat was too much for you – the heat inside you wanted to escape, but you didn’t know how to ask him.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you want,” his amused voice made it obvious as to what you wanted, but still he continued to tease you, torment you, put you on the edge, “Tell daddy what you want,”

You took in a gasp as he unbuckled your bra strap from behind, free-ing your breasts, and the very next second, tore your fragile dress.

“Hm, tell me baby girl,” he asked you once again, as he took in one of you nipples in his mouth, his tongue encircling your bud, as one of his hands pinched the other one.

“Jungkook I-” you gasped as you felt a slap on your clit, it wasn’t that harsh because he was being careful, and you were still in your panties – but it just turned you on more.

“Baby, you have to call me Daddy, do you understand?” he said as his free wrist kept putting pressure on the top of you panties, making you want to rip them off, so you could finally feel him where you wanted to.

“Yes,” you said, and whined after he took off his mouth from your nipple to look at you, and after a second you understood what you had to say, “Yes Daddy, I understand,”

“Such a good girl for me, so pretty,” he said as he kissed your cheek, and you just couldn’t stop blushing. He was so harsh, yet so gentle at the same time – and it made your head spin.

“Now, be a good baby, and tell Daddy what you want him to do to you,” he said as he neared your ear, “does baby want daddy to wreck her pussy?”

You couldn’t help but shiver before speaking, “I want Daddy to make me feel good,”

His fingers slowly trailed your body, making you moan and buckle your body up towards him. You looked at him, his ears tinged red, and his eyes were darker than before, he almost looked like a fallen angel. He chuckled, looking at you seem so helpless, so fragile.

You were so soft, so ethereal, like an angel from the sky and he was there to taint you, to make you his.

He teased you by playing with the band of your underwear, he put two fingers in your mouth and you instantly slicked them with your saliva, making obscene noises that blended in with your moans. Then he trailed those two fingers right above your covered clit, and you couldn’t help but buckle up again, wanting those two fingers inside of you.

“Be patient, princess,” and it felt like an eternity as he circled his tongue in your belly button and it so, so, so slowly trailed down and down, and he finally took off your panties with his teeth.

“So wet, baby, you’re making a mess,” he commented as he rubbed you with one finger, and using the other one to encircle your hole. He pushed it a little inside, easily as your slick helped him, before looking back at you to see if you were comfortable, and when he got the green light, he continued to push it entirely in, “Such a good baby for me, think you can handle Daddy’s cock?”

You nodded in exasperation, his finger was long and hit all the right spots, but you needed more. He added another finger, while rubbing your clit with more pressure and making circle patterns with his tongue below your belly button. You were so near, so so near, you just needed that one push off the edge.

“Well, you’re going to have to work for Daddy’s cock, baby, think you can take this monster?” He took out his finger with a pop, as soon as he felt you clench down on his finger.

“Daddy, f-fuck me, please,” you moaned, missing his touch. He looked just as a mess as you were, panting and taking off his shirt. You continued to admire his body, he didn’t look buff like gym rats, but instead he had a lean, slightly muscular body.

He continued to tease you by biting his lip and taking off his boxers extremely slowly. You whimpered when his cock was free against his stomach, and it was bigger than any you’ve been before while watching porn. It was even bigger than the dildo your friend bought as a joke for your birthday present, and you had started to doubt if he would fit inside of you.

“Suck Daddy if you want to cum, princess,” he groaned as he pumped himself a couple of times before you put your mouth on his head.

Not having any experience before, you didn’t really know how to start, but you gave little kitten licks at his head, and then took it in your heated mouth. He didn’t taste how you had imagined, instead it was more like a salted caramel toffee you had, it was delicious and you wanted more. You continued to take more, and more of him and suddenly gagged because you couldn’t take anymore – only to realize you had only taken half his dick in your mouth.

“Can’t handle more? I guess you’re too small for Daddy’s big cock, huh?”

The thought of his not fucking you was almost terrifying at this point and you continued to let your throat loose and tale more of him, until you felt his cock twitch, which made you moan. Tears spilled out as he fucked your throat, fast and hard. 

“Such a good, pretty baby for daddy, taking my cock so good, princess,” he groaned before pushing in it a couple of times and taking it out.

“Such a naughty baby, making Daddy almost cum,” he kissed you again, tasting his own cum, before dipping down again, “you need to be punished, huh?”

“Daddy, please t-touch me,” you whined, grabbing his hand and putting it in between your thighs, and surprisingly he slapped your inner thigh.

“Being such a bratty baby now, I guess I do need to punish you, you don’t deserve Daddy’s fingers,” he said trailing again lightly all over body, but stopping as soon as he neared where you needed him the most, “touch yourself,”

You were dumbfounded, but when you saw his serious look, you shyly dipped your finger into your heat, and circled them around, but even after two fingers, it just wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Daddy, please, I c-can’t, I need you,” you cried out while rubbing yourself between your legs, filled with your slick.

“Such a needy princess, always demanded Daddy,” he tsked before adding two fingers inside you, and as you gasped, “but Daddy adores you, so he’ll help his pretty little baby,”

You moaned, not holding back, as he pumped those fingers, and let his tongue work magic on your clit. He continuously pumped his fingers back and forth, while torturing your bud and the heat inside of you kept growing and before you realized it, “Jungkook, I’m going to cum!”

“Cum on my fingers, baby, go on,” his movements became more faster and you trembled under gaze, and unconsciously arched your back before letting yourself loose. It felt like heaven.

Even after this, you had been surprised to see that he didn’t stop and the stimulation was too much for you, as you tried to get away from him, but he held you in place, his wrist holding your pelvic in place.

Despite your whimpering and moans, he took his mouth to your perked up nipple again, and scissored his fingers, to prepare you for his cock. Then, he looked at you, cupped you face and kissed you again, this time more soft, as if you were a china doll, going to break at any given moment.

After letting his dick sit on your bud, he slowly let the head of his cock find your entrance and pushed it slightly. You let out a cry, he was too big for you, but he shushed you and pressed against your lips again before letting it enter little by little. You quickly grab his upper arm and clench it, the pain and pleasure were starting to combine again and you nodded, letting him know that it was okay to continue.

The raw emotion in his eyes was enough to let you go on, and when you were finally full, you looked down only to find you could only take half of him, he was just too big for you.

“Baby, fuck, you’re too tiny, can’t even take all of me,” he groaned before moving slowly, and then finally setting a pace that was safe, but unsatisfactory for you.

“J-Jungkook, f-fas-ter please,” you whined as he started becoming harsher, and his finger started abusing your bud again, and you couldn’t help but realize you were close again. This time, it felt more intense, more powerful.

He was so big, that you could feel him everywhere, it almost felt like he was ripping you apart, but the pleasure was almost overwhelming and the way his cock filled you up made you insatiable – you just wanted more, and more. You could feel your walls being pushed everything he buckled inside you, but he just did it so right.

“Baby, you’re so cute, gonna cum for Daddy?” he kissed your nipple and trailed up to your lips before diving a tongue into your moaning mouth. You nodded, and felt your second release come near.

“J-Jungkook, you feel so good,” you moaned as your walls clenched around his cock, and finally you gushed out, and trembled as you rode your orgasm. Simultaneously, he too, slammed his hips a couple times before cumming deep into you. As he took himself out, cum poured out of you, and he chuckled before taking it and spreading it over your face. Globs of cum covered your red cheeks and entered your mouth.

“You look so pretty with my cum on you face, keep it there until tomorrow morning,” he kissed your nose and coo-ed when you squirmed in embarrassment.

You could feel tugging and pulling when you felt someone wake you up and instinctively, you said, “Just five more minutes.”

“But you said that the last time,” Jungkook looked at you, his breathe fanning your face.

Too close, too close, too close. You looked at other way and tried to close your eyes.

“You’re so cute, like a small puppy,” he coo-ed at you, making your stomach feel things you’ve never felt before.

“I- I’m not like a puppy!” You tried to fight back in your sleep, but couldn’t help the blush forming on your cheeks and ears.

You could feel the dried up cum on your face, and wanted to wash it off, but feeling too sore to move.

“Can’t move, princess? Was Daddy’s cock too much for you, last night?” he coo-ed at you, mumbling about how cute you were, and how he wanted to baby you and make you his.

“I’m too sore, Kookie,” you whined into the pillow and were taken by surprise when he lifted you and carried you to the tub.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of my little human baby girl,” he said as he laid you in the lukewarm water and washed your body softly.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO

You were starting to feel more at home, even more than when you were at Earth.

A/N: That’s a wrap! Hope you like it. Go to master link for more!

[shywhumpauthor]

Rune’s Story Part 6- Spoon

Masterlist

Okay you know when you have a plot all written out, but then your characters just go and fuck it up? That is exactly what Rune did. I no longer control these characters. They control me. 

Cw: pet whump (not bbu). female whumper, beating, forced into a cage, cursing, forced labor, pet names, hit with a spoon, affectionate/kind of intimate whumper, dehumanization, conditioning/past conditioning, 

Rune carried the basket of dirty clothes into the laundry room, careful not to knock anything over with their wings. 

Balancing the laundry basket in one arm, they pulled open the washing machine, and began to put the clothes inside. 

“Thank you, Sugar, I’m sorry for asking you to do so much, especially since you just got here,” Mabel offered them a soft smile as they finished putting the laundry into the wash, and stepped aside as she moved forwards. 

“For this, we do about half a cap of detergent, and you put that in right here,” Mabel spoke as she grabbed the detergent off of the top of the washer, and twisted the cap off. “Then you press this button to turn it on, turn the dial to normal, and press start,” 

The washing machine hummed to life, and Mabel turned to them. “See? Easy as pie,” She smiled. “Come on back to the kitchen, I’ll make us both lunch before we get down to the real cleaning.” Mabel placed a hand on Rune’s shoulder, and ushered them out of the bathroom. 

“Here, you take a seat over there, I got that nice little cushion just for you!” Mabel exclaimed, pointing to a floor pillow by the table. Rune bit their tongue, and took a seat. 

Why couldn’t they just sit at the table? There were four chairs, that was more than enough! They didn’t dare say anything. Mabel made it clear she wanted them sitting on the floor, so that’s what they would do. 

But as Mabel handed them a bright green sippy cup, they had to fight to keep a neutral expression. They had seen human infants and toddlers use these! They weren’t a helpless little baby! And they weren’t a dog, either! They shouldn’t have to eat on the damn floor, or sleep in a fucking cage!

“Are you okay, Rune? You’re making a face,” Mabel asked, as she emptied a can of pork and beans into a pan. 

“Yes, Miss, I’m good,” They answered, wrapping their wings around their shoulders. 

“You can tell me if something’s wrong, you know,” She turned to look at them. 

“I- thank you, miss,” Rune thought better of saying anything. They looked down at their feet until Mabel turned away. They had already broken so many rules, they were surprised they hadn’t been punished yet. 

Rune had been through a lot of shit in the past year. They had been captured by a group of hunters, taken in by Darius of all people, tortured and beaten on a daily basis, and stripped of every last bit of dignity they had. And they had managed to survive all of that without yet breaking down. 

But when Mabel served them their lunch in what looked suspiciously like a dog bowl, they fucking lost it. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING PET!” Rune exploded, throwing the dog bowl across the room as hard as they could as they jumped to their feet. It crashed against the window, and the shattering of glass filled their ears. 

Just as quickly as it had come, the anger left them, and the harsh reality of what they had done sank in. 

Mabel stared at them in shock, a large hand raised to cover her open mouth. 

“I- I’m so sorry, miss,” Rune whispered, as they dropped to their knees, bowing their head. “I-“

“Don’t talk.” Mabel whispered harshly, and Rune shut their mouth. 

“Never in my life have I seen such an ungrateful little-“ Mabel took a sharp breath in, and slowly released it. “You stay right there, don’t move.”

Rune barely dared breathe as Mabel crossed the kitchen, and yanked open a drawer. They stole a glance up, just to see her pull a large wooden spoon out, before slamming shut the drawer. 

“I know this day has been stressful, but it is quite unacceptable for you to act like this,” Mabel huffed, as she advanced on them with the spoon. 

Rune had been hit with many things. Belts, whips, canes, even a rolled up magazine. Never had they been hit with a wooden spoon. 

The pain was more dull than the splitting one of a whip. For a woman of her age, Mabel’s hit was surprisingly hard, as the spoon cracked across their cheek. 

Rune swallowed back a cry, but stayed still. They deserved this. They had been terrible, awful. They deserved the whip. They should be thankful that she was going so easy on them. 

But all they felt was bitter resentment, towards Mabel, and towards humans. It was so fucking unfair. They weren’t a pet! They had been free, and happy, until both of those things were ripped away from them! By the fucking hunters! Who were they to decide that Rune didn’t deserve freedom? That Avians didn’t deserve freedom?

Rune flinched as Mabel hit the spoon across their knuckles, white hot pain shooting up their arm. They deserved this. 

The beating didn’t last half as long as one of Darius’s did. With one last forceful whack across the base of their wings, Mabel huffed out “Get to your crate!”

Rune didn’t bother to pick up their pig plush as they hopped to their feet and ran from the kitchen. 

The cage… wasn’t as small as it looked from the outside. They could just about sit up straight, and stretch out their legs. Rune glanced down as something squeaked beneath them. They reached under their leg, and pulled out a small little rubber pineapple. A dog toy.

With a half stifled sob, Rune threw it out of the cage, where it bounced harmlessly off the carpet. 

Mabel huffed in exasperation, as she bent over, and locked the cage shut. “I really expected better of you, Rune,” Mabel sighed, noticing the pineapple toy. She picked it up, and set it on top of the cage. “Take some time to think about what you did wrong, I’ll come back later. You still have chores to do.” Mabel pushed for a moment, but Rune didn’t even look up. They tucked their head in between their knees, and brought their wings up to shield their body from view. 

As Mabel walked away, they couldn’t bring themselves to feel guilty. Regretful, sure, but not guilt. They could handle being treated like a slave. They could handle being treated like a toy. But they could not handle being treated like a pet.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

tag list:

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @myst-in-the-mirror

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 4

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 5206

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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Dabi’s frustration only grew when he saw your excited expression. All the sudden all he could think of was the was the way that Bakubrat had kissed the top of your head the last time he had seen you.

Dabi readjusted you so you were on his back and put his hands firmly on your thighs. He’ll admit he’s being ridiculous, but he wanted to keep you out of reach from the explosive idiot.

You were practically buzzing with excitement. You had missed your friends. Even though you had seen them a few weeks ago, it wasn’t nearly good enough, you felt like you didn’t have enough time to actually thank them for saving you. You had known all of them from high school except you had known Katsuki and Izuku much longer. You all had known each other since you were kids. Katsuki was always the one pulling your pigtails while Izuku was always the one to let you paint his fingernails.

That mentality pretty much stayed the same as you all got older. Katsuki would still relentlessly tease you but he was always much meaner to any of the guys who hit on you. There was a rumor that went around that your quirk made you super good in bed and it had every guy chasing after you for the wrong reasons. He never hesitated to hit first and ask questions later when men cat called you in his presence.

Katsuki had always had a very special place in your heart. He had always been your protector as well as your biggest supporter. There were so many times he and Izuku had talked you out of quitting school. Every so often an article would circulate about how villainous your quirk was and how you deserved to be locked up. The pressure would eventually get to you and you would end up in one of their rooms pacing and holding back tears. They helped you learn to love your quirk, but Katsuki was the one who secretly worked with you on weekends to help you get stronger. He thought if he showed you that you were more than just your quirk you would finally stop listening to all the fucking gossip blogs.

You kept bouncing with excitement the entire time Dabi walked towards the front door. He paused a few steps away and gave your thigh a sharp slap. “Hey, quit that. If you keep bouncing like that, I’m going to drop you. Behave.”

You wondered what crawled up his ass. He was just praising you a few minutes ago and now he’s grumpy. There’s no way he could be that mad about Katsuki coming to visit. He knew this was going to happen. He was holding you when Katsuki promised as much. You understood that he didn’t really get along with most people, and Katsuki was honestly kind of hard to get along with in the first place. But that still didn’t give him the right to be so pissed about him being here.

Dabi opened the door but remained in the doorway, effectively blocking Katsuki from entering. “Can we help you?”

Katsuki had a duffle bag on his shoulder as well as a box at his feet. “You could start by letting me in asshole.” He looked at you and his scowl softened just slightly, “Hey dork. Think you could convince your chauffeur to get out of the way?”

You giggled and gave Dabi’s neck a pinch. Dabi responded by giving your thigh a pinch, “Eye for an eye brat. You want me to let him in? I think I deserve an entrance fee?” He pointed towards his cheek as if he was asking for a kiss.

Katsuki’s eyes traveled from where Dabi’s hand was firmly squeezing your thigh to where he was pointing at his cheek. They were furious. He was about to just shove his was through when you wrapped your arms tight around Dabi’s neck and leaned backwards. Effectively throwing his body weight off and giving Katsuki more than enough room to enter the house.

He quickly let himself in and made his way over to the couch where he dumped the box he was holding. “Alright so here’s your first care package.”

“Don’t see why it needed to hand delivered…” Dabi dropped you on the couch next to the box so you could rummage through it.

Katsuki quickly took the empty spot next to you, totally ignoring Dabi. “I brought you a couple new manga that I know you’ll like, and I think Deku added a bunch of pictures and shit from your old apartment.” He reached over you into the box and pulled out a shirt and you grinned ear to ear. It was an old All Might shirt that you had stolen from Katsuki years ago because you liked how soft it was.

He smiled and put his arm around you, “I thought you might like that. I hope you don’t mind I’ve been wearing it in your absence. So, it might smell like me.”

Dabi walked by grabbing Katsuki’s arm and casually flung it off your shoulder. Then without a word started going through the box. “Did you remember the bathing suit?”

You could hear Katsuki’s palm’s crackle with irritation, “Yes… I did. But don’t get your pervy hopes up. I got the most conservative one I could find.” There he goes being overprotective for no reason… well that wasn’t exactly fair he did have a reason. He had just found you in the most horrendous condition possible and immediately had to hand you off to a former villain who kidnapped him in his youth… so yeah. You decided you were going to cut him some slack.

“Well considering it’s for her fucking rehabilitation…she could be naked for all I care. As long as she’s comfortable and gets those damn legs moving.” Dabi could feel his temper starting to get the better of him. Considering Bakugo was known for having the worlds shortest fuse, he needed to keep his cool. He could not be the one to snap first.

“Oi! Don’t act like carrying her around is such a burden!” Bakugo stood up now squaring off with Dabi.

Dabi’s eyes flared but his voice remained even, “I never said it was a burden… In fact, I love carrying her around. However, I don’t plan on making it a habit because I want her to get better.” His voice dipped and got angrier, “And don’t you talk about her as if she’s not sitting in the same room as us! She can speak for herself…”

He looked at you and you gave him a pointed look. ~Calm down please.~

He took a deep breath and signed back, ~Trying~

Katsuki looked between the two of you with narrowed eyes, “When did you guys learn sign language?”

Dabi walked into the kitchen and started making dinner. If Bakugo wanted to make a house call, he needed to let him have his fun. He’d be leaving soon enough, he just needed to let the two of you be until then. “We started learning a couple weeks ago.” He pulled out two bowls because that’s how passive aggressive he is. If that asshat didn’t get the hint by the time dinner was ready, then he’d just have to sit there and watch you eat.

Dabi had to stop for a moment and contemplate this. Why was he this mad? Why did he actually care this much? You were obviously going to be close with the loudmouth. You’d known him for a long time. He needed to remember that just because you lived with him now doesn’t mean that you even want to be here. For all he knows you’re just tolerating him because you have to. It’s not like the two of you have lots of late-night conversations.

He looked over when he realized it had been pretty quiet and saw that the two of you were speaking in sign. His hands on yours helping you with a new word. “Okay so obviously you know sign too.”

Katsuki had a shit eating grin. “The doctors told my mom when I was young, I’d eventually go deaf due to my quirk. I’m basically fluent.” He continued to sit and teach you new words and damn if you weren’t happier than he had seen in the past two weeks.

Dabi rolled his eyes as he went back to making dinner. “Go ahead and teach her whatever you want. Be fucking useful for once.” Dabi continued to make dinner, shoulders tensing every time he heard you giggle.

Katsuki had his phone out and was showing you everything you had missed. “Okay so surprise, surprise, Deku and IcyHot are like a thing now.” He showed a couple cute pictures from Izuku’s private Instagram. The last one was of them kissing under an umbrella. “Kiri and Mina had a kid. Little rascal is probably about six months old now. He’s cute but his teeth hurt like hell.” He picked up his hand that had a tiny crescent shaped scar, which had you absolutely grinning.

He ruffled your hair, “Oi, you won’t be smiling when the brat bites you next.” He continued to scroll, “OH! I almost forgot the best part.” He turned his phone to you and showed you a picture of someone’s mug shot. “Fucking grape juice got arrested.”

Your eyes widened. You waited for him to go one when you realized he was waiting on you. He was giving you an opportunity to contribute to the conversation. ~Why?~

“Trying to buy a prostitute… Literally no one was surprised.” He looked back to the kitchen to make sure Dabi wasn’t listening. When he was satisfied, he pulled you closer into his side and threw his arm around you. “Hey, you would let me know if he was mistreating you right?” His fingers carded through your hair and his eyes roamed all your visible skin for signs of abuse.

You nodded your head and pulled your shirt further down, suddenly aware that you weren’t wearing pants. You had just gotten so used to it you had forgotten. He noticed you fidgeting, “He hasn’t touched you, has he? Because I swear to God I’ll rip out every single staple in his body then make him eat them.”

You leaned further into his to side to hide your blush. He most certainly had touched you. And you still hadn’t worked out how you felt about it. He hadn’t made any attempt to do it again beyond the casual touches when he carried you or when he helped you in the pool. He had made it a habit of sleeping in your room, but he always stayed on his side of the bed.

Katsuki must have taken your lack of response as a confirmation. “I’m going to kill him.”

You sat up straight and started shaking your head, ~No. No. Wrong~

“Wrong? So, he hasn’t touched you then?”

You gulped. Either way you answered was bad. You either told him the truth and he rage killed Dabi, or you lied to your best friend… Either way you were fucked.

As you struggled for an answer Dabi walked in and handed you your bowl of curry and rice. “Don’t worry I’ll answer that one for you, and stop at me at any point you think I got it wrong.” He took his seat in a recliner and took a bite of his meal. “So, we had a moment where something could have happened, but we stopped before it got too far and decided we were just being emotional and moved on.”

Katsuki’s hand started to heat up and crackled but you pulled on his arm to get his attention, ~Right~

He still looked angry, and maybe even a little hurt, which had you all confused again. He looked like he wanted to throw one of his famous temper tantrums. You knew how much it was killing him to not pounce on Dabi, “Keep your disgusting hands to yourself from now on. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need you taking advantage of her!”

“You don’t speak for her!”

You clapped your hands to get their attention, ~Enough~ You gave each of them a glare and it was silent after that.

You took a bite of your dinner to avoid Katsuki’s eyes and was met with the most delicious meal Dabi had made to date. You cleared your throat to get Dabi’s attention. You pointed to Katsuki then your bowl of food and signed ~where~?

“I didn’t think a busy hero like him would have time to stick around for dinner.” He continued to pick at his food, “Speaking of which. It’s getting late. Hate to keep you from your super important work of dress up and make believe.”

Katsuki gestured to the duffle bag he carried in. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere tonight.” He was looking at you now. A look of concern ghosted across his face. “Consider it a wellness check.” He leaned forward and gave the side of your head a soft peck, “I just want to be sure you’re okay. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I intend to keep that promise.”

You felt yourself sinking into his familiar warmth. If there was anyone who felt like home, it was Katsuki. Sure, he was in the middle of a ridiculous pissing contest with Dabi at the moment, but you really couldn’t blame him. He’d always been a stubborn, territorial, asshole. But he was also kind he cared about you and for that you could forgive him.

“Whatever, just don’t get in the way of our routine.” Dabi stood up with his now empty bowl. “You know that law, eat every last bite. I’ll get your bath started while you finish.” He looked at Katsuki, “You can have my room… I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He didn’t even wait for a response as he left the two of you alone.

Katsuki visibly relaxed into the couch once Dabi had left the room. “What did he mean by law?”

You smiled as you pulled out your journal and opened it up for him. You pointed to law number seven. At first, he was pissed that Dabi would give you a new set of rules to live by, like you were some kid. But then he realized there wasn’t a single “law” on here that didn’t have your best interest in mind.

His eyes scanned over the rest. Chuckling at some silly laws like ‘Wake up whenever the hell you want’, and ‘No fucking shrugging.’ He had to admit that he also hated it when you would do that. It wasn’t that you were indecisive. It was that you knew what you wanted but you never wanted to speak up for yourself. Always willing to bend over backwards to make others happy. Never wanting to give anyone any more reason to dislike you.

His heart hurt at the laws that said things like, ‘No drugs’, ‘No locked doors’, and ‘Never say sorry for something that isn’t your fault.’

The law that had his blood boiling however was the last one, law number thirteen. ‘I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.’ He furiously flipped through the pages that came after, trying to get the idea of you ever giving Dabi consent to touch you out of his mind.

You had finished your food by now and stretched your muscles out. All in all, this had been a great day. You walked on your own in the pool AND Katsuki had come to visit. You were so tired you just knew you would fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Hopefully you wouldn’t have any nightmares.

You put your hand on Katsuki’s shoulder and used it to push yourself to your feet. You wobbled for a few seconds but otherwise kept your footing.

“Hey look at you! I thought you’d be too tired after what we did in the pool today, good job.” You looked up to see Dabi leaning in the hallway. “Your bath is ready. One for me, two for blondie.”

Katsuki scrunched his nose up, “Wha-“

You held up two fingers and Dabi nodded. “Alright looks like you get bath time duty today.” Dabi smirked when Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Don’t freak out. She’s gotten to the point where she can get in on her own and some days she can even get out too. You just need to hang out by the door in case she needs help.

You wound your arms around Katsuki’s neck, and he picked you up. His heart pounded as he followed Dabi to what he assumed was your room. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Hey wouldn’t be the first time we bathed together.”

You giggled and hit his shoulder. You knew he meant when you were kids. But you couldn’t stop the blush that took over you at the thought of him just hopping in the tub with you now.

Dabi tensed up as he stopped at the door to your room. “Alright… y/n you know the drill if you need me just yell.” He winked at you after his stupid joke and you flipped him off.

He walked back to the kitchen and opened his laptop. He started to go over tomorrow’s sign language lesson early. He’d never tell you this, but he does this every day. You were so much better at picking it up then him, he needed to do extra work just to keep up.

You signed ~Thank you~ as Katsuki placed you down next to the full tub.

“Okay… so I guess you just let me know if you need me by…?”

You shrugged as you knocked on the side of the tub. Part of you really didn’t want him to leave, even if it was only for a few minutes. You reached out and grabbed his wrist.

He gave you a curious look, but softened when you signed back, ~Stay~

“Does he usually stay?”

You shook your head, Dabi always insisted he had things to do and it was important you do some things on your own.

Katsuki took a seat on the floor with his back against the tub. Even with permission he was determined to protect your modesty. You slipped your clothes off and quickly lifted your legs into the tub. It was almost too easy now and you smiled at your progress.

You sighed as the water warmed your skin. Your hand reached for Katsuki’s and gave it a squeeze. You could see the tension in his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back before intertwining your fingers.

“Y/n… I -I know I’ve already said I’m sorry. But I still have this mountain of guilt sitting on my chest. You were… are… one of the most important people in my life. And I was so wrapped up in my own life I didn’t see the signs. I didn’t notice that something was wrong.” You could hear his voice crack as he tried to hold his emotions down. “I knew you went on secret missions that you couldn’t always talk about. I watched as you came back looking defeated and… and broken. I thought there was something going on, but I just kept reminding myself you worked with heroes… that I was just being paranoid.”

You felt tears build in your eyes and you were glad he wasn’t looking at you. You rubbed circles on his hand with your thumb encouraging him to keep going. He obviously had a lot he had been bottling up. “You know Deku and I went to your agency one day after you had been gone for a few months and all they told us was your mission was confidential, and we weren’t related to you so they couldn’t even tell us if you were okay.” He sniffled, “I went there every day after work and got the same bull shit answer. It drove me crazy.”

He took a deep breath to settle himself, “So we started asking about you. Started looking for you in all the underground trading routes.” A long silence followed as he got lost in the memories of looking for you. “It almost took us a year, but we finally found someone who had seen you. Some small-time villain whose quirk was invisibility. He had snuck into your agency to try and break his boss out. But when he found him you were also in the room…”

He didn’t keep going, and for that you were grateful because you didn’t want to hear it. You knew what came next and you didn’t exactly want to relive it.

“I’m so sorry. I failed you. I was supposed to protect you. I promised you I’d be by your side forever, and I-I-“

You pulled his hand towards you and gave it a kiss before putting his palm on your cheek. He hesitantly turned and looked at you with tears in his eyes. You activated your quirk and washed over him with feelings of love and understanding. You watched his eyes close as he shuttered. You may not be able to speak, but you could still communicate to him through feeling that you were okay.

You reached over and brushed a stray tear away and pulled him close to plant a kiss on his forehead.

When your bath was over, he waited for you to wrap yourself in a towel before picking you up and depositing you gently on your bed. You pulled the All Might shirt he had brought with him over your head, and crawled under the covers.

He had only wanted to lay there until you fell asleep, but he ended up falling asleep soon after you.

Dabi walked in hoping to tell you goodnight but found the two of you asleep facing each other. You under the covers, Bakugo on top of the covers. Your hands stretched out towards each other as if looking for each other even in sleep.

Dabi’s hands were glowing with livid flames as he left in a hurry.

He went straight to the abandoned cabinet that held all of the now off-limits drugs. He could take just one… you would never know.

He growled as he shoved the bottle back into the cabinet and slammed the door. Reaching instead for a bottle of whiskey. He went to the couch and poured himself a drink.

And that’s how you and Bakugo found him the next day. Passed out on the couch empty whisky bottle on the floor next to him.

Dabi chugged his coffee as his head pounded. He was no stranger to hangovers, but ever since you came to live with him, he hadn’t felt the need to drink that much. At one point in his life it had been the only way he could get any decent sleep.

He watched from his seat at the kitchen island as you and Bakugo made breakfast. The smell of bacon hit him and his stomach growled. Shit.

You could see his sour expression and when Bakugo wasn’t looking you stood from the chair you were sitting in. Dabi kept his eyes on you like a hawk. Watching for any signs you might fall. You stumbled but he remained still. He knew you were okay. The Island was right there if you needed to hold on to it. You were only a few steps away from him now. Arms stretched out and a smile on your face.

You knew this would cheer him up, and get him out of whatever shitty mood he was in. Only one more step and you’d be there. To this Dabi stood up and took a step away from you with a playful look in his eye as if to say come and get me.

Bakugo continued to talk, not even noticing you weren’t sitting behind him anymore. It wasn’t until the loud thud of you hitting the tile floor that he looked up. He immediately rushed to you while Dabi laughed.

“Why the fuck are you laughing? She could be hurt!”

Dabi just continued to laugh, “I’m laughing because it’s fucking funny. She’s fine.” He titled his head to the side. “You’re a tough cookie aren’t yeah y/n?”

You giggled and nodded. Dabi took you from Bakugo’s embrace “See she’s fine. I think you need to remember she used to be a pro hero. I think she can handle tripping over her own feet.” He stood up and sat you down in front of the laptop.

“Okay time to learn some sign language, looks like today’s all about food. Oh good, you love food.” He ruffled your hair before picking a piece of bacon off of your plate and biting into it.

The little back and forth continued the entire day. The biggest argument came later when it was time for the pool. You groaned and decided you weren’t in the mood. ~No pool~

Dabi rolled his eyes at you, “Yes pool. You even have a bathing suit this time. So, get your ass in gear.”

You crossed your arms over your chest in defiance. “Listen here brat. It’s the law. We work on getting your strength back every single day. No negotiations.”

Bakugo didn’t like the tone Dabi was talking to you in. “Oi, she’s not some puppet for you to boss around. She said she doesn’t want to so that’s it. Back off!”

Dabi’s eyes flared with anger, “You don’t have a fucking say in this. This is between me and her.” He looked at you again, “If you had asked nicely, I might have let this go. Just because we have a guest doesn’t mean you can disregard the laws and neglect the routine. Now be a good girl and let’s go put your bathing suit on.”

Bakugo stepped between you and Dabi, “Be a good girl? What the fuck is your problem. You don’t own her.”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose trying to remind himself why he can’t just fight the obnoxious asshole in font of him. “I don’t own her, but I also refuse to sit here and watch her wither away. We have laws to make her better, and I refuse to deviate. It’s clear I take her recovery more seriously than you do.”

Bakugo shoved Dabi back, “The fuck you do! This isn’t some rehab she checked into. You have no right to boss her around! What makes you think you know what’s best for her?”

Dabi was practically screaming now, “Because I’ve fucking been in her shoes, you ignorant ticking time bomb!” His chest was heaving now, “Did you ever wonder why I had to fake my own death just to get away from my own father… who was a fucking HERO! I’ve been poked and prodded and pushed past my limits. Except I didn’t have someone there to help me and I ended up in the League. Depressed, blood thirty, and hell bent on getting revenge on the so-called heroes that were so okay with a little boy practically killing himself every day just to produce the next number one.”

To this Bakugo didn’t have an answer. He’s heard Todoroki’s horror stories. He could only imagine what Endeavor had put Dabi through.

Dabi looked at you know eyes still furious, “I’ll make you a deal y/n. You put on quite the show this morning taking a few steps on your own. No matter how mad I am, I’ll never tell you that wasn’t a good job. But now you want to skip the very thing that allowed you to take those steps.” He walked out of the kitchen and took a seat in his recliner. “Make it over to me right now, with no help and we can skip the pool.”

With a determined scowl you pushed yourself out of your seat. Bakugo went to grab you “Y/n you don’t have to do-“

“Yes! She does, now let her do it. She needs this. Y/n you can do this. Now prove it to me and prove it to yourself.”

You took your first step, determination written all over you face. Step followed step and you had already walked further than you had this morning, but you were only about halfway there.

Dabi’s eyes were patient and his voice was calm. “Come on y/n. You can do this. You aren’t broken. There is nothing wrong with you. Just keep walking.”

You could feel the tension in the room stiffen. Bakugo watched you with his hands out as if to catch you, always your protector, always your safety net. But you didn’t need that right now.

Your knees started to wobble and buckle, and involuntary whine left your lip as you went down to one knee.

“Come on you can’t give up now. You’re doing such a good job. Now push yourself back up. I’m right here. Come on. Push harder!”

You felt a tear streak down your cheek as you tried to push yourself up but only ended up on the ground.

Bakugo was at your side in an instant but you pushed him away.

“That’s right y/n you can do this. I believe in you. I don’t care if you have to crawl. You’re so close.” You pulled yourself up enough to crawl across the rough carpet. You got up to your knees then slowly you stood.

Dabi saw the fire in your eyes and it sent a shiver down his spine. You were going to do this even if it killed you. It made him think about what you would look like in battle. If you looked even half as gritty as you do now he had no doubt you had strong men cowering at your feet. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he gave that back to you. That power, that strength, that untamable will, he knew was somewhere inside you laying dormant.

He got out of his recliner and lowered himself to the ground, “Come on your so close now. Keep going Y/N!”

With one last push you practically jumped into his arms and collapsed. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but for the first time since coming here they were happy tears. You did it. You walked all on your own.

He cooed into your hair as he rocked you back and forth, “You did such a good job. You did it. I knew you could. You can rest now. I’ll get you some ice cream. How does that sound. We’ll celebrate.”

You nodded as you clutched Dabi’s shirt.

Bakugo disappeared for a few minutes and when he came back he had his bag over his shoulder. He kneeled down next to you and pressed his forehead to yours. “I think it’s time I got back to work. I still need to take down the bastards that did this to you.” He smoothed his fingers through your hair and looked to Dabi, “I think you’re in good hands.”

He made his way to the door, “I’ll be back soon.”

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