#also i have nothing to put on the bites so they just keep itching until i scratch them open so thats just great

[quarterlifekitty]

Okay listen all I’m saying is hiring the boys as a bodyguard. Not because you actually need guarding, but because you have the money and you’re lonely, damn it!

Besides, if you happen to admire them while they do their jobs, no harm, no foul, right? And maybe you cook them extra food. Maybe you put on music they like while you drive. Maybe you treat them with a little more affection than strictly necessary.

It’s okay though! They work hard, they deserve to relax! And maybe relaxing includes staring a little too long when you dress more scandalously than usual. Maybe, just maybe, they relax by stroking themselves to thoughts of you alone in their rooms.

I’m so sorry I just need big meaty men who are so pathetic for the soft little thing that hired them.

Okay you can ignore this part but I just came across your blog and I’m fucking feral for your writing, especially depraved Simon and pathetic König. I’m biting your thighs and kissing your shoulders.

Honestly. This is a few shade darker than what you said. So. Sorry. Also biting my thighs and kissing my shoulders you say?????? 😳

But I can see Ghost in a sort of Mike Ehrmantraut type of role. Discharged from special forces for a sustained injury, but he can still fight and kill with the best. In fact, his blood itches inside of his veins when he doesn’t. So he takes up private security jobs. Not with any company or so called respected association, just on his own, completely freelance.

You hire him for security on something not entirely legal. You hire a couple other guys, but Ghost is pretty sure they’re all bark and no bite. He’s able to disarm and knock them on their backs in record time. “Still think this is gonna be a three-man job, birdie?”

So it’s just him and you. And you’re paranoid, he can tell. Whatever business you’re engaged in right now is something you fell into and are utterly terrified to leave. He sees the men you meet with looking at you with such predatory eyes, like prison guards waiting for you to make a break for it so they have an excuse to take you down. There was clearly someone in this position before him. Maybe they left, or maybe they’re the ones that paid the price for you trying to run out.

It’s clear to Simon that your relationship with whoever used to occupy this seat next to you in the car was more than professional. You don’t cook meals and bake treats for hired muscle. You don’t ask them to tell you what music they like for the car rides. And normally, the hired muscle doesn’t stick around so much. Doesn’t stay in your house unpaid. Doesn’t worry so much about the frayed nerves of his client. Doesn’t insist on standing by the door when you’re changing. Doesn’t spend his night turning over your predicament in his head and trying to untangle it.

If the last guy left, he can see why. You’re a bad investment. You don’t ask for more, but you’re the type that makes a man like him want to give and give until there’s nothing left. Truly, the most dangerous thing in the world is a bird that makes a man feel powerful through no intention of her own.

If the last guy died for you, he can see why.

Sometimes Simon sits on your bed until you fall asleep. It takes a while. You spend so many hours feeling vulnerable, like you’re going to be shoved into a bottomless pit if you don’t keep your eyes wide open and your skin prickled.

He takes his glove off to stroke your cheek. And that’s when he realizes that he’s never been one for untangling messes like these.

He’s the type of man who grabs the scissors.

[michameinmicha]

Its probably because im changing my meds but its so fucking annoying i havent been able to sleep because i am unable to lay still for 5 seconds and the fact that i had (lets hope it was only one) a mosquito in my room that has been eating me alive the past two nights does not help this situation at all! I am covered in itchy mosquito bites that i keep scratching and i keep jerking my legs around every few seconds which of course makes my ridiculously loud bed creak every time... i am so tired and i have things to do today so i cant even just sleep through the day instead ☹️

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Hello!

So I started watching ROTTMNT a few weeks ago despite my only exposure to the Ninja Turtles being a single scene of a 90's live-action movie when I was maybe 5 because the turtles started repeatedly appearing in my dreams, and my brother informed me this was the universe telling me I need to watch the turtles.

In any case, I have now become hyperfixated. Could I request platonic ROTTMNT turtle boys with a reader who is a biting insect magnet? It doesn't matter if the bug usually feeds on humans or not, the reader's blood is, for whatever reason, sweet, sweet nectar to all manner of biting insects, to the point that even max strength bug repellant doesn't always work to keep the bugs away; so reader is always getting bitten up by all nearby biting insects. To make matters worse, reader is mildly allergic to the itch juice bugs inject when they bite, and gets huge, swollen, itchy rashes from bug bites that itch for several weeks. (Reader is also an avid herper—someone who enjoys catching and releasing wild reptiles and amphibians, a passtime that involves being out and about where bugs are going to be at the times they are most active.)

My first experience with tmnt was the 2012 series when it first came out, I was like 7ish. Didn't Really get into the fandom though untill recently!

Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello and Michaelangelo x reader who's catches lizards and is allergic to bug bites

Raph

★ Whoo boy. He is so scared that you are going to get bitten by a oozesquitoe. It's not even funny. Anytime you're remotely near one he's pulling out Donnie's emergency hazmat suit (More on that later)

★ He urges you to where long sleeves and pants when you go out. Actually really likes the lizards that you catch. His favorite lizard native to New York is the coal skink because it looks a little red in the right lighting.

★ Raph's worried about your health, but that's just how he is. He will always be a bit worried about your health. Its actually pretty sweet. But please put a bandaid over the bigger bites so that he doesn't fret.

Leo

★ Leo, being the ever so intelligent person he is, decides that you're the perfect bait to catch oozesquitoes. Fortunately he is quickly shut down by his brothers the moment he voices his clearly perfect idea.

★ He keeps more than a few bottles of benadryl around the lair. Allergic reactions to bug bites wasn't something he knew about before meeting you. He's well stocked for whenever you get attacked by bugs.

★ Yes, he tried to cut a mosquito in half with his ōdachi. No, it didn't work. His weapon got stuck in a log because he put to much force into the swing.

★ He might get a little jealous over the lizards. Especially if you start talking to them. "look at you, handsome little guy!" And "oh, you have beautiful coloration" all prompt his jealousy. "Why don't you talk to me like that :'("

Donnie

★ Your blood seems to be irresistible to blood-eating insects, bug spray or not. His quite perplexed by the whole situation. Are you sure you used bug spray and not sunscreen?

★ His fear over you getting bitten by an oozesquitoe mixed with his tendency to plan things out in advanced led him to make a emergency hazmat suit for you in the turtle tank.

★ The amount of times he's had to put calamine lotion on you because you had gotten bit by bugs is way too high. To be blunt, he thinks you should stop trying to catch random lizards. Or at the very least cut down on it.

★ But then again, the look on your face when you catch a lizard and show him it is really cute. Especially when you explain to him what species it is and where it likes to hide during the day.

Mikey

★ Knows next to nothing about lizards, which is surprising because he's a reptile. If you have any books on wildlife he would like to borrow them to read up on New York's reptile population.

★ When you get bad allergic reactions he brings you to Leo. He would carry you but he probably can't because he is smol. Mikey loves animals but he doesn't love mosquitoes because of the effect they have on you.

★ He joins you whenever you try to catch lizards. Mikey loves to give the lizards you catch different names. Whenever you go out he brings a jar of dehydrated mealworms for whatever creature you catch.

[sunriseverse]

If you're still looking for prompts, how about this: either shape-shifter AU, or someone getting cursed and turning into an animal?

so uh. this is. six months late. sorry. and also not the fluff you were probably expecting. but! please enjoy this offering, because i had a lot of fun writing it :)

-

The kid is gone when the morning dawns.

Wu Xie is new to this; all of this, any of this. That he had overlooked something this simple is both unsurprising, and horrifically, teeth-baringly infuriating. He should have known better. He should have known better. It’s not like shifters are rare; they’re half the population. Hell, out of the Iron Triangle, the only one of them who doesn’t have the blood in them is—

He cuts that thought off there. It’s too painful; better to not think about it; better to focus on his own stupid, stupid fuck-ups: namely, the fact that he’d not thought to check if the kid they’d taken had the blood, and now—well. Wu Xie just hopes he’s not gone and gotten himself killed of thirst trying to run away. It’s a nasty way to go; he’s seen men turn insensate and pathetic from the dehydration that warps their minds and the world before their very eyes, makes them beg even as their lungs dry and their faces go sallow, until their lips start to bleed.

“Laoban,” Wang Meng says, frowning as he approaches Wu Xie. “None of the others have seen him.”

Wu Xie bites back a scoff. Of course they hadn’t; no one expects to see an animal out here, besides camels. Maybe if the kid’s lucky, he’s got some desert-adapted traits; if not, then—well. It won’t be the first time all he’s had to show for his efforts is a dead body, but it doesn’t please him, even if he’s working on stripping most emotions besides a single-minded focus from the viscera of him. “I’ll go find him,” he says. “The scent tracks shouldn’t be too disturbed—it’s been a calm few days; the sands haven’t shifted much. He can’t have gone far.”

Wang Meng’s expression wars between concern and disbelief. “Wouldn’t it be better to go out with the Jeeps?” he asks. 

Wu Xie huffs. “And let him hear us from fifty kilometres away?” he says, raising a brow, and itches for a smoke. Wang Meng always makes disapproving sounds when he sees them; Wu Xie wonders how long it’ll take for him to stop. The nicotine always mellows out the worst edges of anger, draws his focus back to where it needs to be. But, no. Not right now. Even he knows that putting that shit in his lungs right before he shifts is a bad idea. He doesn’t really want to pass out from smoke inhalation. “No,” he says, “I’ll go. Don’t let anyone in camp know I’m gone. And if I’m not back by nightfall—”

“I know,” Wang Meng says, lips pressed thin. Wu Xie’s own twitch. If nothing else, Wang Meng is learning the very same valuable skills he himself is.

They head back for the tent to keep up appearances. Wu Xie downs a full bottle of water, and strips out of his jacket, sets it aside carefully, a photo worn by the number of times he’s turned it over in his hands hidden in the pocket that lays over his heart. He’s a coward; he doesn’t want them to see him like this, what he’s about to do. But cowards are the ones who live the longest, so a coward he’ll be. 

Shifting is—

It’s been a long time. His mind associates it too much with looping around Pangzi’s shoulders, warm puddles of sunlight, the gentle brush of a finger against the flat of his head. He’d avoided it, selfish, in an attempt to preserve that connection. Now, he’s using his skills for exactly what they’d been meant for: hunting. The sands are distantly warm against his belly, protected by scales; he slips between shadows, camouflaged by the dusty colour of his body; flicks a tongue out to scent the air. Already, he can catch the faint scent of another animal—something small, covered in fur. He’s lucky the kid isn’t a flier; they tend to have better stamina. 

He’s not quite sure how long he goes for; the sands blend together under the high noon sun, his only sense of direction the scents of the group back at the camp and the scent of the kid’s form. When he finally catches sight of a small, unmoving body. Dusty fur, small. The scent of him is still warm, so he’s not dead—yet. Wu Xie draws closer, raises his body to get a better view, tongue flickering out, and then shifts back to human form. The kid’s body, a rodent of some sort, is dwarfed by the palm of his hand. Wu Xie, who doesn’t have anything to put him in, sighs and resigns himself to carrying him. 

The good news is that he can see the camp in the distance; he hasn’t gone that far—the kid had mostly been hidden by the colour of his fur blending into the sand and his small size. He makes the trek back in good time, arrives just as his throat is beginning to rub against itself as he swallows from the aridity. Most of the camp is hiding in their tents, away from the beating sun, and so he can slip back into theirs without being noticed.

Wang Meng is sitting at the portable desk, playing something on his phone. When Wu Xie enters, he scrambles to his feet. “Laoban,” he says. 

“Water,” Wu Xie orders, without preamble. “And a pipet.” It’s fortuitous they’d brought some along in case Wu Xie were to grow too dehydrated in his animal form and be unable to shift back. Wu Xie sits down on one of the bedrolls and draws up water from the bottle that Wang Meng opens for him and carefully feeds it into the kid’s mouth, carefully held upright so he doesn’t choke.

For a long while, he’s half afraid it’s a bust, that the kid’s died on the way back. He’s too small to feel his heartbeat properly or see his chest rise and fall, and half the water just spills out the corners of his mouth. But then, after an eternity, the kid’s tiny body jolts and he comes back to consciousness. Wu Xie has just enough forewarning to drop him to the ground before he shifts back to human, heaving gasping, ragged breaths, and scrambling for the tent flap, zipped shut. Wu Xie rises to his feet and easily halts him with a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” he says, softly. “You almost died out there; do you really want to tempt fate again?”

Weak with dehydration still, the kid squirms under his grasp until he finally gives up and turns his face to glare at Wu Xie. “Better dead than with you,” he tries to say, but the words come out hoarse.

Wu Xie sighs. The analysis isn’t wrong, but then again, he’s known for a long time now that he’s willing to be anyone’s worst nightmare to get what needs to be done done. “Drink,” he says, instead, and holds the bottle of water to the kid’s lips.

For a long moment, the kid glares at him, lips pressed firmly shut, and then, finally, the thirst gets the better of him, and he drinks. Wu Xie lets the ghost of a smile cross his face. “Good,” he says, patting the kid’s shoulder. “You won’t die today.”

[faggotryandtransjesterism]

VegasPete Fic Rec List (Part 2)

Favorites marked with a (*)

A Close Shave by @fleet-off | 4k | M *

The bathroom walls feel claustrophobically tight, and Vegas’s stomach is a ball of leaden frustration poised to turn molten. He wants to shatter the mirror with his fist, to yell at Pete to stand up straight, to curse his uselessness--just another one of Vegas’s failures. The razor sits on the edge of the sink. This was a bad idea.

Vegas gives Pete a shave.

another one of my all-time favorites! the tension! the pete saengtham messy bitch agenda! i've been spending a lot of time lately screaming in fleet's comment boxes, and you should too!

somewhere between the heart and the vein by @veliseraptor | 20k | T

In the aftermath of the failed coup, Pete has: an unconscious and possibly dying Vegas Theerapanyakul, a whole lot of feelings to work through, and no job.

He goes from there.

another recovery fic, another lise fic, you literally cannot go wrong.

begging to bleed by @veliseraptor | 10k | E *

Vegas is trying to be good. Pete's getting a little fed up with it.

His staged intervention produces positive results.

yet another lise fic! PWP of the highest order. PWT, if you will. porn with themes. big fan of pete knowing what he wants <3

Finders Keepers by @veliseraptor | 3k | T

Vegas was supposed to kill Pete. Vegas has not killed Pete, and it turns out that is working out pretty well for him.

Up until Kan discovers the safehouse's extra inhabitant.

pure angst. don't look at me. i left this thing with shell shock and new sources of anger

Brand Recognition by @iffervescent | 6k | E *

Vegas wants his top billing back. Pete likes being on the bottom.

porn star AU PWP. feminization. electrotoy. need i say more?

won't give up these ghosts by @fleet-off | 7k | E *

Vegas lays him on a patch of firm ground. From his cocoon, Pete hears the rhythmic thud of a shovel sinking into loose earth. Vegas is digging him a grave.

In which Pete finds playing dead relaxing, and Vegas decidedly does not.

this may genuinely be my favorite vegaspete fic of all time. it's literally perfect and there is nothing else like it on earth. read it. read it right now. let it awaken something in you.

swinging from the willow tree by incendir | 2k | T

Every single ingredient is here. Vegas rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

[Or, the first step in starting over]

vegas cooking fics are my weakness

Bite the Hand by @ghost--houses | 1k | E

The second Vegas uncuffs Pete from the headboard, Pete grabs for Vegas' left hand and pulls it into his mouth. He says nothing, he doesn't look at Vegas, just puts his teeth to Vegas' skin and keeps them there, gnawing.

subdrop fics are. also my weakness

Fidelity by @veliseraptor | 2k | T

Vegas visits his father's grave.

father-son angst my beloved. again, kinda character-study oneshot

Five Year Itch by puckbaes | 78k | NR

Pete has everything he could’ve dreamed of, a husband that loves him and a family to call his own. It’s perfect, until the day it isn’t. What do you do when you find out the love of your life is one of the most prominent mob bosses in Bangkok? Turns out, clean breaks are notoriously difficult when you have a son together.

A getting back together fic featuring mafia!Vegas, shared custody of Venice, and Pete’s inability to stay away from danger.

i usually don't stray from canon universe with vegaspete to be honest, or at least not too far from it. this one's fluffy it's angsty she's got it all. i really thought normie!Pete was gonna be a deal breaker for me, but i actually really enjoyed this and i think it's really well done.

And that's a wrap! My collection's always growing, so part 3 at some point probably lol. Once again, if anyone knows more of these authors on tumblr, please tag them! Enjoy and scream in my asks about them (and don't forget to leave kudos and comments for the lovely authors!)

[abronzeagegod]

ETS WIP Chapter 10: Everything Has Gone Wrong

First | More

Lyta had been feeling good the last couple of weeks.

Actually, no, she'd been feeling amazing.

Alive, awake, and sure she'd been angry and testy and short-fused but that was a price she was willing to pay to feel this good, this consistently.

However, there was a big downside to this whole "everyone is angry all the time" thing, and that was that Aeth seemed to be mad at her all the time.

That, made Lyta feel worse than anything else.

She was concerned for her friend. They had gone through a lot, and things hadn't really been better for them since everything was more-or-less resolved.

For some reason, when Aeth started sending her lots and lots of videos on Swwarm, that put Lyta's hair on edge. There wasn't anything specific that Aeth was doing or not doing that made Lyta concerned, but there was a break in some hidden pattern, something was off and she couldn't tell exactly what it was.

Their days off didn't line up properly for a little bit, and with everything, Lyta had to fight against herself to offer Aeth some space. So it wasn't for a few days until Lyta saw Aeth.

And when she did see them she instantly knew something was wrong.

Aeth, like anyone, used their phone a fair amount.

But they were all but tied to it, barely looking up from the device as they walked into the office.

Lyta went over to talk to her friend and Aeth had a full conversation with her without looking up from their phone.

This was extremely unusual and not at all like Aeth.

"Are you ok?" Lyta asked, reaching out for her friend.

Aeth pulled away from the touch, very unlike them, and then responded. "I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

Lyta was concerned at the answer, so unlike Aeth.

"What's happening?"

"Nothing. I've been practicing some meditation and mindfulness things I found on Swwarm. I can send them to you."

"No, that's fine," she said but she already felt her phone vibrating in her pocket as Aeth sent her several videos. "We'll talk after work."

"Sure."

The whole thing left a bad taste in Lyta's mouth, and that feeling carried her and fueled her through the rest of the day.

Lyta worked the phones for the rest of the day, biting back comments and angry reactions even though she desperately wanted to. Everything around her was pushing her buttons and pushing her to reaction.

She felt the itch at the back of her wrists, the clawing and itching for release and power, but she had long ago learned to push that down and away.

When she finally managed to clock out and leave, she found that Aeth had already left.

"They had some kind of personal emergency to take care of," one of her boss' heads told her as she looked for Aeth around the office.

That only put Lyta in a worse mood.

She grabbed her stuff from her locker, and stormed off back to her home. If it was a real emergency Aeth would have told her, Aeth would have come to her. Everything here was deeply and irrevocably fucked.

Once she was in her apartment, Lyta angrily poured herself a drink, and reluctantly started to make food. She was pissed and the last thing she wanted to do was keep having to do things, to put forth effort just to live in this stupid bullshit day. But objectively she knew that she needed to. That her anger was not her, that the rage she was feeling was only being perpetuated by the needs of her body.

After things started cooking and Lyta was feeling a little better, and also a little drunker, she checked her phone to see if there was any new content while she waited for things to cook.

She ignored the seventeen messages from Aeth about mindfulness and getting in touch with your inner master. If there was one thing she absolutely could not stand it was that bullshit. It meant nothing to her because she had already waded through that sea to find the few things that weren't scams and did help her, she didn't need any more of that Ascension crap.

The first video she saw was some religious-fascist crap about how there were too many faiths and gods to keep track of and it was the duty of every native born in Reakonfall to push out the gods by whatever means necessary.

Lyta hated that shit even more. She didn't respond she just hit the report and block button.

But the next video was even worse.

The algorithm saw that she had watched the entire video previously, and so it had queued up this next one. It never accounted for the fact that she reported it for enticing violence, it just saw the interaction.

The video was of an attractive looking man, with the kind of features that would place him on a daytime soap opera. Lyta started to watch the video and quickly started bristling with anger.

The man stated, "You know that there are certain people out there that can create new beings? New gods even! They can slip dangerous creatures like this one right behind our carefully constructed wards and gates." The video shifted to show some horror drawing of a terrible creature that Lyta was fairly certain was concept art for the failed game Twin Houses.

He continued talking about how these people could simply make dangerous creatures appear and there was nothing we could do to stop them. There was no defense against these terrorists. He even went to show a picture of someone who he claimed was one of these 'terroristic summoners'.

The anger that was clouding Lyta's vision saw Aeth in the video and she snapped.

It felt like she was putting a piece of cold wire from a broken bone in her arm. The feeling lasted forever and no time at all.

The hilt of frozen ash was in her hand, and the blade of fractal wildfires was brought down hard on to the phone screen.

The magic blade fueled entirely on Lyta's anger, pushed through the electronics and the stone counter-top with no resistance until the frozen ash handle met with stone.

A moment of deep breathing later, of feeling the cold biting at her lungs, Lyta snapped out of her blind rage.

"Fuck."

She couldn't banish the blade, she was stuck with it for a little while, at least until the temperature in the room returned to normal.

Drawing the blade, using her magic, almost always snap froze everything around her. And Lyta had been extremely angry for a while and so her entire kitchen was frozen solid, and there was a giant hole in her island.

Lyta opened some windows and tried to let the warm air circulate in so that the angry blizzard she'd caused would dissipate faster, but she knew that the only thing that would undo the snap freeze was time.

Dinner was ruined.

She could order food, though, but as she reached for her phone she realized that she had cut it in half.

"Fuck!"

Lyta knew herself well enough that now she recognized how wrong everything had been the last few weeks.

She was angry all the time, she had been worked up, but the anger wasn't truly her's. She didn't feel the all encompassing rage that covered and consumed everything like a blizzard, or the white-hot instant anger that snap froze everything around her like an instant wildfire but made cold.

Something had been manipulating her.

She also knew her magic well enough, for better or worse. It was something she'd had for years, before she even moved to this city.

It had been weeks of constant, building anger. She should have had enough magic bursting out of her to summon three swords, a halberd, two great clubs, and a morning star. Lyta should have encased the entire building in a snowstorm that lasted a week and reduced everything to a even, white, samey nothingness.

Something had been manipulating her. And something had been sucking away at her magic this entire time.

She looked at the phone, cut in half and frozen to the kitchen island.

It couldn't be, could it? Could it be that simple?

Could that stupid app be behind this?

The anger started really building when she was Swwarming. The entire thing stopped when she destroyed the phone.

Now that Lyta thought about it, the video she was being shown was terrible, it should have been banned. It seemed directly targeted at her for maximum outrage.

The face she saw at the end couldn't have been Aeth. There's no way that anyone knew anything about what Aeth had summoned, there was no way that there were any records or anything for anyone to even find.

It had to be that app.

Something bad was happening.

Lyta needed to call Aeth.

But she had cut her phone in half.

"FUCK!"

i have a kofi where you can read these early if you've supported me at any time

[nvrcmplt]

"Beorn, here -"

Before the giant has a moment to say anything, Kaveh has already taken a hold of one of his hands and put into his own two. Plastered against bare skin is an ointment, a bit tangy and rich in fragrance, its greenish hue being massaged into the other's knuckles and fingers.

"You do such backbreaking work for me, and I couldn't stop noticing that you work a lot with your hands. This is an ointment I got from my friend who happens to a forest ranger. He is exceptionally skilled with these sort of things - I, on the other hand, only know how to apply them - and therefore I'd like you have some. It should make your fingers less stiff and skin a little softer without breaking down any resistance." Applying some more, he'd focus intensely between Beorn's fingers, making sure to hit any possible knots that might have occurred from the work. "Working out in the Sumeru sun can be quite the hassle, and while I am somewhat used to it, this ointment also helps cooling down your skin a little bit."

There, he added under his breath; "... now give me your other hand, please."

The call of his name had his attention though the action of his hand being taken rather swiftly before he could even use it to leverage his weight to face his Boss - he was at a loss. Thankfully, his core was a mountain of muscle and keeping upon upright was easy - enough to adjust a knee between them to be able to balance on it much better. He still wasn't all that used to sitting on the floor so much, or with cushions or just low chairs in general, but it was nice after a hard day. Comfort in the small things which was also whatever this was.

Oil? It didn't feel that slippery, but it was nice. Cooling as spoken of - strange but not enough to make him wipe it off. Watching in fact in silence like a child that knew better than to over speak their elder or try and deny the care. Beorn would only stare upon their hands, Kaveh was so much smaller than himself in any ways. It was rather comical, but the sight of those fingers between his own knuckles searching for every crack, dry patch, cuts even - to be covered in the ointment. He felt a flutter of something - not an emotional desire to make this man his wife or anything like that but a blossoming of deeper friendship?

"You are a worry wart type, hm?" Though he didn't stop himself from moving his free hand over to the others needs. Looking upon the slick skin that was rather nice in scent now. He did resist upon licking it, a lesson he's learnt from before upon licking soap bubbles. He's never felt his inside hate him more than that moment. "This friend of yours, he has a talent to find something that doesn't reverse the leathering of a hard-working hand. Must have taken him years to master it." Beorn knew of a few ointments but nothing as special as this. Honestly, not that he thought about it - it was mostly just melted animal fat and the occasional flower.

"This place's weather is very different to my homelands, that is more akin to the Dragonspine of Teyvat. Snow and rock, sun is constant but nothing with this heat. I didn't really notice my skin burning until you pointed it out though." Something to do with his pain tolerance, when skin can melt from frost burn, sun burn didn't feel any different in his opinion. "Ah - on that note, does your friend have an ointment for the bites of bugs? I've noticed broken skin on his ribs lately." Though he wasn't sure if it itched or not. "You seem to lack any of them, so I was curious do you have a method to stop it?"

"Ah, also thank you for the treatment. My hands feel better."

[kitxkatrp]

I'm having a meltdown and need to rant. I'm sorry if this upsets anybody, so I'll be putting it under the cut.

So I'm having issues with not being able to handle my mood swings again, for one. A bunch of things keep happening and its making me feel like I want to fucking die again and because its bipolar moodswing I can do nothing but ride it out because nothing I've learned and no medicine can help me stop an episode when it fucking starts.

So not only did I have to emergency buy another computer (which I had to borrow MONEY to pay for), but i got it and it barely works. But because I couldn't afford the warranty, I'm now out 400 dollars.

AND

I'm getting bit in bed again, which means my neighbors have given me bedbugs, AGAIN. If you weren't here for the first three or four times, this is the like fifth time in the span of a single year and they refuse to treat your apartment unless you can actually catch one, but refuse to do a proper inspection. They walk in, lift up your sheets, and say "there's no bedbugs. You're obviously just wrong and it's fleas from your pet" and then leave. They don't check cracks, crevices, and all other spots that bedbugs live. Also one fell out of my bathroom vent, so I'd bet anything thats where the fuckers are coming from. They refused to treat my apartment before for over a month until I caught a live bedbug, walked into their office, and slammed it down on their fucking desk and said "tell me its my cat and fleas again. I dare you."

Also I am excruciatingly allergic to bedbug bites, so they swell up and get all nasty and sometimes infected. They itch so maddeningly bad that you have to constantly put cream on them. I am almost out of cream.

Also I paid all the money I had yesterday for fucking groceries, only to realize today that I am low on garbage bags and I'll have to borrow even MORE money from my partners this month to just make it to the next month.

Comcast doubled my bill and refused to lower it.

My disability got raised, but because of it, they docked my food stamps again so I'm essentially just as fucked as before.

I couldn't afford valentines gifts for either of my partners or a birthday gift for scottie so I feel like a terrible partner.

I am having moments of hearing voices again which happens when I am so physically and mentally stressed that my bipolar is unable to cope.

I am almost out of allergy medication. I could not afford it this month. It's almost 30 bucks for a pack that lasts a month. It is the only thing that works and I can't even take it every day cause then it stops working. I am allergic to dust mites (the things that live in your bedding), and my own cat, which did not develop until after I got my cat. When I lay down, half the time I start having an allergy attack from my own sheets.

I could not afford to get my back cracked this month so I get to be in : ) a fantastic amount of pain because it costs me 40 dollars per crack and that is with my disability discount because medicare doesn't give a shit about me or you.

I finally broke down today and called and asked to be put on the waitlist for the other apartments that have less bedbug issues, but got rushed off the phone and hung up on by the secretary before I could ask any questions about the pricing differences or anything. And because I can't guarantee that they won't come inspect my apartment or come harass me to ask me why I want to switch (remember kids, low income landlords are not your friend and will harass and threaten to put you on the street at every possible turn), I just had to speed clean my apartment which caused me a ridiculous amount of pain.

My back hurts, my ankles hurt, I can't stop crying and I just want to die right now. I'll probably be okay in a few hours, but fuck man I'm tired.

[crepezinhos]

Last Minute Together

POV: How would some Anemo guys react if they found out you became a zombie / have been bitten by a zombie in an apocalypse?

⚠��� WARNINGS:

— This is a SFW piece, but it has some mentions about infections, blood, violence, organs and zombie nature, especially in the Xiao one. It is pretty graphic.

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Characters included: Wanderer and Xiao

— This happens in the Genshin universe, not Modern AU, so they all still have their abilities and vision.

— Angst with comfort

WANDERER: The apocalypse was simply something annoying to Wanderer, who is physically unable to be infected by the illness. Although his skin felt soft as human being’s, it was hard like his whole arm was a bone. No zombie bite and eat his skin, nor did the virus have place to reproduce inside his technical body. Because of that, Wanderer had almost all the responsibility for the protection of the village you two lived in, spending more than 12 hours a day every day working on it. He made 2 out of 3 patrol shifts, usually day and noon so he could spend the night with you, even if he didn’t need to sleep at all. The feeling of your embrace was too good and relaxing for him to deny just to spends more hours doing nothing but watching over monotonous deserts. He would also fight in the front line whenever conflict was happening since he was obviously very quick and good at killing zombies with his Anemo powers and saving people in dangerous situations with his flying abilities. He didn’t like those mundane jobs at all, although they did include protecting you too, but you insisted for him to do it, and even Buer, who claimed it could make him feel more humane and understand humanity more.

You were never a worry to him, tho. Wanderer was smart and would almost always predict conflict, so he’d keep you somewhere safe, like in a Pyramid’s old treasure spots that had many puzzles, traps and locks, before the danger even broke out.

Not until today.

The zombies outsmarted Wanderer’s predictions because of a ridiculous failure of the other human beings in the tribe you two were living in. One of the guards in the Pyramid Patrol left the gate open before running away to the West where conflict was going on to kill zombies. Wanderer only spotted the mistake while he was flying around, looking for any zombies that could potentially kill a human, and saw a hoard of zombies running into the Pyramid he put you in. He panicked for a while he flew back to you, but soon calmed down when he set you back to the ground, safe and untouched. He thought he had been lucky to have gotten you before the zombies could’ve eaten you alive, but you were already aware that maybe he didn’t get that lucky.

“Haven’t I told you to use that spear in case the zombies invaded?!” He scolded you while he walked you back to the village. That angry behavior was typical when Wanderer was worried, no matter if it was his fault or not.

“I’m sorry, my love, I really tried to but I just don’t have the power to—” You tried explaining yourself, but a sudden need to cough itched in the back of your throat, in which you complied to very quickly, putting a palm on top of your mouth to not disturb him with the sounds of it more than he already was disturbed.

You unexpectedly coughed 9 times in total with some breaks between them, which obviously made him raise an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stopping his walk to pay better attention in you. Since he was in front of you, you stopped walking too and leaned your chest down, allowing your coughs to come out easier from your mouth.

After making sure nothing was bothering your throat anymore, you got up again and wiped your mouth with the same palm you used to cover your coughs.

“Yeah, probably just allergies!” You smiled, trying to pretending you were sure baout it. After everything you’ve learned about the man, you would hate to be simply an addition to his traumas.

But, unlike what you expected, Wanderer looked at you back like he had just seen a ghost.

“Babe?” You asked, not understanding his horror, so you decided to check on the hand you used to cover your mouth, already thinking about the chance of you being infected.

And you hate when your pessimism is right.

“Human beings usually go through 4 noticeable stages before becoming a zombie according to how much they try to resist it or how much they’ve been bitten…

… The third one is usually noticeable by a sudden fatigue or an infection in the stomach that causes the victim to cough blood or other residues that remind vomit.”

Oh, that stupid scientific presentation you decided to watch with Wanderer! You were enjoying that moment of your boyfriend’s cute worried behavior so peacefully and now it was completely ruined...

“Y/N… were you bitten..?” He stepped a few times closer to you,like he was ready to confront you in case you lied right into his eyes.

“I… n-no—” You still tried to do it, which made Wanderer instantly launch his left arm into yours, pulling it so hard it could easily break your bones. “Ow!” You complained while Wanderer twisted it around.

He gasped.

You’d never heard that kind of noise coming from him and his usual stoic and nonchalant personality, so you immediately knew it was bad... really bad.

Wanderer breathed in and out, and then again, and again, and again... his eyebrows also frowning the more he breathed.

He was beginning to panic.

Your eyes decided to follow his, giving up on the possibility that you weren’t bitten, meeting a bite that had already turned some of your veins and skin into a dark, mossy green tone.

Oh, wow… you were really going to die in matter of minutes, weren’t you? What were you thinking when you decided to not tell him? You wouldn’t be able to cure it anyway, so why are you regretting it?

Your brain was still deciding whether it would act instinctually, trying to survive or make every second of your last moments useful, or philosophically, accepting your death like any other. You kept quiet, disappointed at yourself and unsure of what to tell him after betraying him so cruelly like that.

“No... No, no, no, no, no, no…” Wanderer started to let that growing panic out of his mouth, his heart finally beginning to burn with the realization of the the fact that you were really about to die and become a mockery of reincarnation, a zombie. “NO! NO!” He suddenly bursted, launching his both hands into you, making you flinch and close your eyes shut in fear of aggression.

In a blink, your arms were thankfully freed from his grip, but you weren’t feeling your feet in the ground anymore.

You opened your eyes insecurely, only to find yourself being held princess-style by Wanderer’s arms and flying forward in a tremendous speed.

“No, no, no, no… You’re not gonna die, YOU’RE NOT GONNA DIE! I’M GONNA SAVE YOU IN TIME AND EVERYTHING WILL FINE!” He screamed to himself, not even daring to look at you with teary eyes.

Flying with Wanderer used to be magic before the apocalypse. You two would do it for pure fun, enjoying the chilly wind or the beautiful views of Sumeru’s nature… but now it seemed a horrible, traumatic experience.

It truly hurt to know that Wanderer still had hopes even if he knew nothing would be able to cure you from the virus. He has actually already mocked other people’s miseries in private conversations with you, saying those tears and hopes for a cure were useless since they were far from being done with it. Seems like karma really is real, isn’t it? But you hated to have to be the victim of that karma… to have to leave him behind in such an ugly, unfair way, knowing everything about the miseries of his past life and how he had a lot of problems with coping.

Poor baby… he really wasn’t ready to lose you like this… not did he think he’s lose you like this.

Would you just be another ‘betrayal’ to him? You hated that possibility. You truly had no intentions of leaving him behind.

Would he get so angry at your death that he’d hurt other people, including you, or his own self? You also hated that possibility. All you wanted, instead of spending time with him, was to see everyone safe and well.

“I love you, Kuni.” You tried comforting him, using that sweet, blessed name the Traveler gave him after his redemption, causing his face to flinch away from yours in pure grief.

“SHUT UP! DO NOT TALK TO ME LIKE THAT! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE!” His voice broke multiple times, showing to you how his tears were already running through cheeks indeed and all that despair he was trying to hide.

Oh, how his heart was burning him alive… And he thought losing the Gonsis was the most painful thing he could feel… barely did he know.

But no how could you be so cruel to him? He already knew you weren’t immortal anyway, but he was ready to watch you grow old and die of something like a heart failure, not from a virus that made you some dangerous creature in a brutal way, especially when you were so young.

“Oh, Kuni… I was over the moment I was bit.” The man shook his head aggressively as he heard you say those negative words. “I didn’t want to leave you behind like this at all. It hurts me just as much as it hurts you.” Your mouth was beginning to water in hunger of flesh while Wanderer just let his tears fall more and more. “No need to cry this much, my love… remember the scientists said they’re working in a cure? Maybe I can come back to you!” You tried cheering him up, using a hand to wipe one of his tears away, feeling your own heartbeat become slower. “Look at me, Kuni.” He immediately turned his head to you, admiring your pitiful gaze and the touch of your hands for the last time. “Remember, you will always have something or someone to love and live for! So many people are willing to fall in love with you…” He closed his eyes, feeling every single syllable of your words like a brutal stab in his heart.

“Please stop..!” He begged while taking his gaze away from yours and tightening the grip of his hands in your body, although it wouldn’t stop you.

“Don’t do anything stupid for me, okay..? I want you to cope about this without putting anyone’s lives in danger.” You hugged him by the neck. “Thank you for everything, Kuni, and once again… I’m sorry.” You mumbled as you felt your body weaken to a point you could barely keep yourself hard in your place.

You were happy that at least you were going to die in the hands of your lover, flying in the warm skies of the deserts of Sumeru while remembering the sweet memories of you two doing it in the past.

“No, please..! You promised me you’d stay with me until you grew old! You promised to be by my side every morning! You promised me you wouldn’t betray me! Please, hold on just a little bit more! I can’t afford to have you dying like this in front of me!” He found courage to look at you in the eye again, only to find your face fallen down with eyes closed and a little grin in your lips. “Y/N..?” His voice was as low as a whisper.

But you didn’t respond.

“… Stage 4 is the death of the victim and the process of reincarnation of the body thanks to the virus, noticeable by sudden twitches of the victim’s chest and limbs.”

Time seemed to have stopped for Wanderer miring that scene of you, no matter if he had managed to successfully land on the ground in his knees still with you in his arms.

“Y/N..?! Y/N?! Y/N, ANSWER ME!!” He screamed at the top of his lungs to your corpse, causing everyone around to curve their heads in his direction.

“Hat Guy..?” The archon’s voice suddenly echoed by his side, but he couldn’t care any less about her.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” He hugged your body like he was about to break every bone of it, feeling that warmth of your skin fly away from it so easily while the archon stepped closer to the scene, soon realizing what had happened due to all the blood around your mouth and all the greenish tones in the veins of your body.

Wanderer started weeping in your shoulders, trying to hide it from everyone else although it was pretty obvious he was crying. Everything was so quiet around him he could even hear whispers.

Everyone around was whispering instead of doing something truly useful.

Nahida hugged his neck from behind, ignoring the fact that that was a really dangerous move. If she doesn’t say something perfect to him at this brutal moment and state, she knows he’ll explode.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss, Hat Guy.” She whispered in his ear.

“No, no, no… I can’t lose her too..!” He shook his head to the sides, still not daring to take his forehead out of your wet shoulder like that would somehow keep your soul in your body.

The Archon deeply admired you too, so she was feeling the blues of your death with Wanderer. She thought you were a brave soul for accepting being the lover and companion of someone so difficult like Hat Guy, and a very kind person overall, so she knew that losing you would break his heart. Nahida decoded to simply embrace the man’s emotions in that hug, wanting to avoid any anger trigger. It was working as expected since his cries were only getting louder and uglier.

He cried and cried, no matter if hours had passed, or if Nahida left him there, or if you had already woke up and become a green savage who was trying your best to bite his porcelain skin apart. He simply hugged you in place and cried while you didn’t do any effort to embrace him back or stop trying to eat him and everyone around you. He hated how you were somewhere he couldn’t reach, because he would’ve brought you back in an instant. That’s why he kept hugging you. He just wanted to feel every bit of you before it all drifted away. He just wanted to die there by your side in hope that would you two would somehow reconnect.

The sunset was so beautiful despite the ugly scene he was creating. He knew you’d be commenting about it right now if you were alive and he imagined it, trying his best to make himself feel better, but honestly, creating and remembering memories was really just making him sadder.

“Why..? Why..?!” He whimpered under your neck, no matter if you were pulling his hair, attempting to bite his neck.

“Hat Guy.” The Archon appeared behind him once again, this he could hear more steps of other people that seemed to be wearing armor. Guards. “I really do understand you’re going through a tough moment, but we cannot keep Y/N unrestrained in the village.” Nahida begun her negotiation.

“No… please don’t take her away from me… anything but her..!” He answered, still burying himself in your cold body, even harder now that there was a threat.

“We do not intend to take her away from you or terminate her life. We intend to keep her in a safe room inside the laboratory where she’ll be well-treated and prioritized in case a cure to the virus is real.” She continued trying to convince him peacefully, but deep down she knew those guards weren’t ‘just in case’. Wanderer would act aggressive if someone annoyed him in that state.

At least she managed to make him raise his face up to her again. Nahida was a little taken aback with the amount of red he had in his eyes because of all the gallons of tears he shed during those hours and just how sore they were.

“A cure..? There is a cure..?!” He looked at her with desperate, pitiful eyes which made Nahida feel bad about being forced to destroy that hope.

“No, although we’re working in one, we can’t guarantee that—”

“Wait.” His whole chest suddenly turned to her and the guards behind her, still holding you still, but his tone sounded completely serious and rough. “Are you… from the Pyramid Patrol..?” Wanderer stared deep down at one of the guard’s eyes like he was seeking for blood. His bipolarity was still something impressive to many people.

At the same time… Nahida knew he’d let you go if he found someone to point, blame and kill. The guard wasn’t even from the Pyramid Patrol, or any patrol, he was an elder who worked for her as an assistant. She didn’t want to possibly harm real soldiers, although she did punish the ones that were guilty for your death with obligatory extra hours at night shift.

“Yes.” The man answered very anxiously about his role in that situation. Thankfully his helmet covered most of his face, so Wanderer couldn’t identify his cowardness.

But that stop him from scoffing once, then twice, then from laughing like a maniac.

Laughing in anger and sadness, laughing like he was trying to fight against his own thirst for blood, laughing at human stupidity.

“I work… 16 hours per day every day… saving and recruiting everyone’s ass from their own useless, powerless bodies… just because I can’t get infected or reproduce. If I wanted to do nothing or throw zombies at this village, I could, but I decided to not to because that would’ve made her disappointed. I sacrificed all of my time to have some quality time with her just because she wanted me to help everyone who needed help… and I did my job perfectly.” He shook your body sometimes, trying to show him what he had done. “DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?! SHE ACCEPTED THE FACT I WOULDN’T HAVE TIME FOR HER AT ALL JUST BECAUSE SHE WANTED EVERYONE TO BE SAFE AND HEALTHY IN THIS SHIT OF A VILLAGE! ALL YOU THREE HAD TO DO WAS TO TAKE CARE OF SOME STUPID PYRAMIDS FOR SOME HOURS ANS YOU COLDN’T EVEN DO THAT! AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR THIS HELLHOLE, YOU COULDN’T KEEO THE ONLY THING I ASKED FOR!” He vented, already sounding violent enough as Nahida expected, inches away from leaving your body behind.

“We’re… very sorry for—” The man tried fitting into his character nicely, but that was the worst decision he could’ve made.

“I’M GONNA SHOW YOU JUST HOW SORRY YOU SHOULD BE, YOU SON OF A—!”

Blink!

It all happened in less than a second, but Wanderer indeed let go of your body just to fuel his fists with Anemo energy and try jumping on the man to try hurting him with his charged punch. Since Nahida predicted he’d do that, she immediately turned on the Dendro shields she had been creating this whole time while he vented, taking advantage of the fact that he was too unstable to pay attention to her fingers doing the magic and used her manipulation powers to make him pass out. He’d probably hurt her too if he saw her attempting to separate you from him or defending the man so she had to act in silence.

Wanderer fell in ground immediately and you obviously tried to take the opportunity to flee and eat people. Fortunately, you’d never be able to break the shield she made around you, so you were banging and scratching the shiny, transparent green wall while drooling with the view of some scares kids who were watching the scene.

.

After some days, Wanderer woke up feeling very dizzy and lost. Nahida knew he’d need some good rest with some good dreams for him to not wake up and immediately go for the kill he had almost committed, so she made sure her finality on him was more brutal than usual and that he wasn’t having any nightmares meanwhile. That’s also why she also arranged most people in the town to bring him gifts and cards to possibly cheer him up and apologize for nothing.

“I don’t care about this, Buer. Stop trying to waste your time trying to make me smile or something stupid like that.” He scoffed at her while ripping a card in half of one the guards that failed to protect you.

“That’s not what she would want tho, would it?” Wanderer’s eyes avoided her gaze, knowing she was right and that his tough and unreasonable behavior wouldn’t scare her off.

“You know nothing about her.” Since the topic still triggered him a lot, he tried to put Nahida back to her place.

“You tried doing something stupid, and she told you to not do it, am I wrong?” She smiled at him, pretending she wasn’t acting like a tough therapist.

Wanderer went quiet for some seconds. He hated to be wrong, he hated when Nahida peeked his mind, he hated the gods… but he hated your death more than anything.

“You peeked through my mind again..?” Wanderer asked in embarrassment of his own failure to keep a promise to you and honoring you.

“Yes, I did. I want to help you cope with Y/N’s death just like she wants you to too. That’s why I think you should accept all these letters and gifts. This is just a small percentage of how much everyone in the city feels bad for you or that they owe you something! You have no idea how much they’re trying to redeem their mistakes so it doesn’t happen again with you or anyone else, Hat Guy. Y/N is in the laboratory as I promised, but I wouldn’t recommend you to go and see her… You don’t want to see her in such horrible state, do you? Anyway, the scientists are trying their best to work on a vaccine and a cure for the ones that are already infected, prioritizing you as their number 1 patient. The guards are already patrolling extra 4 hours in their shifts every single day, you are allowed to never work again for the village, it’s too many things for me to list…” She watched his face slowly turn calm and relaxed, although he was still grumpy.

“That’s… the bare minimum.” He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, trying his best to deny his defeat against Nahida’s logic.

“Although you are hurt and want Y/N to come back, I don’t want your hopes for a cure to hurt you even more in case it can’t be done. There is a considerable chance that this really isn’t possible, but we’re really trying to make sure it is possible, okay?” She gently floated until she was kneeing by his side in the comfy sheets of the bed.

“… Sure.” He felt his heart ache thinking about the possibility of never having the chance to see you again, his mouth beginning to tremble a little in need to cry just some more tears.

The thought of going to Irminsul again and changing the past again just to make sure you’d survive all of that unnecessary drama went even through his mind, but he knew Nahida would give him serious consequences for it, including fixing the present.

“But please… make sure those scientists are working on it..! I’ll do anything for the chance of her coming back! I’ll work, I’ll pay, I’ll study everything I need to understand the process of—!” He finally stared back at the Archon with many tears in his glossy eyes.

But Nahida simply hugged him by the neck and stopped his begging.

And Wanderer— no… Kuni broke down again.

XIAO: Although Xiao technically has a human body and can get infected, it would be pretty much impossible for that to happen. He’s just that good at fighting, especially when he’s using his powers. He has to be careful tho. Zombies are a curse, and whenever you take the life of something cursed its soul their souls curse him back in form of karmic debt. Xiao has enough of that curse annoying his routine and ruining his physique, so he usually leaves the kill itself for the humans that work with him in the front line. But you… he’d always leave you in the Jade Chamber with Ningguang and the other Adepti when there was an emergency, taking advantage of the privilege he had of being an Adeptus too, but you still insisted in spending most of your time in the few parts of the city that were restored by humanity and not surrounded by zombies. That remaining humanity is definitely therapeutic to you, so he couldn’t blame you for being so annoying about it… or being there in the wrong time.

Xiao was patrolling on his own in the top of a mountain when the problem happened. He liked to be solitary and he used those patrolling hours to be his own self too. Xianyun had to fly all the way from South to North to tell him to tell what happened and that they needed his help. Some kids decided to play with danger and go out of the bounds they had set in those safe spots in the Liyue Port, and when they met themselves with the obvious danger, they ran back to the city, but they couldn’t hold the enormous hoard of the zombies that followed them. They had lost a chunk of the town and many survivors already, but Xiao, after hearing about the invasion of zombies in the city, was only focusing on his own memories of that same morning.

“I’m gonna go to the town to get some groceries for us, okay? Good luck on your patrol today!”

You were there, weren’t you?

Xiao teleported in a blink, leaving Xianyun behind mid-talk in a very rude manner.

He was running in the streets like he was running for his life. The zombies that saw him there started running towards his direction, but quick slashes of his blade were enough to shut them all down. He even recognized some of the faces of the merchants and kids he’d seen in the few times when he took a break from work, which was disturbing, but not more than the thought of your own face distorted like that.

He quickly opened the door of the market you were probably referring to and locked it shut so no zombie would get in, no matter how loud and annoying their bangs on the door were.

“Y/N?!” Xiao screamed. “Y/N?!?!” He screamed again, a little more nervous.

“Xiao..?” He heard a spark of your muffled voice.

His hearing was precise, so he immediately figured out where it came from, behind a door with a big sign with the word ‘Deposit’ on it. He rushed to open it, only to find out that the handle was locked in its place.

“Break it.” Your voice sounded more clear now that he was closer to you, but your tone was still very weak and low.

Were you still trying to be silent so no zombie would hear you? What an absurd, he was right there to protect you… he thought.

He nodded, although you couldn’t see him doing it, and slashed the door in half with his spear, jumping through the lower part of it as soon as he could. The first things his eyes saw was a dead zombie sitting in the left corner of the room, which made him relieved.

“Thank god you are okay..! Nice job killing the zom—” He genuinely smiled at you for your achievement as a mere weak female, but looking at you completely replaced his pride with horror.

You were sat down with your legs spread apart, your mouth covered in blood and an enormous bite in your chest.

He felt like his heart has skipped multiple beats.

“W-Wh… you…” Xiao tried to say something, but he didn’t want to describe what he saw at all.

“I’m sorry, Xiao… I couldn’t do it.” You sounded sad and disappointed at yourself. “At least I got to see you before I died here..!” You shed a tear, which made Xiao immediately rush to you.

“No… no, no, no, no…” Xiao repeated while trying to take a closer look at your bite, hoping it maybe hadn’t spread around you yet.

He was too late, way too late.

He began to hyperventilate in pure stress.

“Come here…” You reached a hand out to his face, gently trying to pull it closer to you.

He immediately accepted it and helped you do it. No matter how much blood you had around your mouth or how bad you smelled, it was still you and your consciousness behind that corpse, one that was about to die right in front of his eyes.

He didn’t want to accept that he failed you so horribly like that. He didn’t want to accept that your soul was already drifting away from you and that you were really going to die right there and now. He was more angry at himself than anything. He thought he was so powerful but he couldn’t even keep a stupid, microscopic virus from killing you.

“Please… take care of the people , okay..?” You wiped a tear was running down his cheek, finally reaching your other hand into his other cheek. “For me.” Xiao got the message immediately and smacked his mouth against yours, no matter how much you tasted like flesh and rotten blood.

He wouldn’t kiss you so frequently, only doing so in moments he considered intimate or special, but this was far from being intimate or special… it was dread and painful. He would’ve kissed you for the rest of eternity, but your oxygen storage had been too reduced, so after some minimum seconds, you broke it off, launching your head backwards to breathe while Xiao tried his best to keep his senses in place when he realized your eyes were having to make effort to keep themselves open.

“Hey… at least I managed to kill a zombie! I’m not as weak you thought I was..!” You joked, trying to cheer him up a little bit, giggling somehow.

You weren’t the kind of person to keep their body fit, so you’d usually struggle with things that required strength, even with opening bottles, which was why Xiao would jokingly call you weak. Although he did believe humans were really weak, he never meant to genuinely insult you with those puns.

“You were never weak… never.” He shed many tears seeing you stare and smile at him no matter how much energy that cost you. “You did so well…” He whimpered, his voice beginning to break.

“I love you Xiao.” You initiated, pausing for a moment to swallow some blood that you felt like coughing. “I’ll be watching you from above… okay..? Now go, please… Lock me up here so I won’t hurt anyone, okay..? I’m sorry for having to leave you behind so pathetically and easily like this. If I could stay alive for you, I would anything for it right now.” You said your final words, your hands finally becoming too weak to hold his face anymore, falling in your chest peacefully.

“I would too… I love you too…” He shoved his face in your shoulder begun to whimper.

And you finally stopped moving.

Xiao’s tears were all falling over your body mercilessly although he swore he was trying to hold them back.

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

You were the fifth person he’d lost because of this sort of illness that kills and turns into something horrible for others and the first one he saw the moment of death of. They were all different by literal meaning, but all the tears shed for the grief were the same.

But this time, he lost the only person who had ever given him a chance to love more than in a friendly way. The only person who had been intimate him, emotionally or sexually. That’s why he almost turned your bones into dust while hugging you with all his force, feeling your soul fade away to a place he couldn’t reach. He hates that feeling, he hates it badly. He hates it so much he would allow himself to become a person you’d never seen for the moment.

A side of himself he personally hasn’t seen in centuries.

He slashed the doors of the market away from him, breaking them into tens of pieces, opening passage quickly like he was some sort of king. The zombies immediately jumped on his direction, but with another slash he cut all of them in half, blood and pieces of organs flying everywhere.

Xiao was red. His eyes desired red and they were red from being sore. His body was already half covered in that dark red tone that pleasured him, but the disgusting pieces of green skin ruined some of his fun. He didn’t care if some of those zombies weren’t supposed to be killed, he wanted to see blood come out of them all, just for the sake of revenge for the tragedy of your desth.

It’s just a fair trade isn’t it?

One by one, he slashed each zombie until they fell still in the ground, no matter if he cut their heads off or not. He was screaming and growling in anger, exhaustion, agony, grief, and pain. He needed to let those emotions out of him, as tears or screams. In a matter of a few minutes, the ground he stepped on had become a pool of blood on it with some parts of zombies here and there, his boots making squishy noises of flesh, broken bones or blood coming out whenever he stepped. It’s like he wanted to make sure the stones of the streets got forever stained with that color, marking his anger attack on that day and the consequences of your death. He would’ve found it a beautiful scene if there was a statue of you right in the middle of all that pool.

He was only done when he had successfully eradicated all the zombies the area, restoring the area all by himself like what he had done was a common daily chore. He ended where he started, in front of the market. Some humans even watched him do his work, but most couldn’t handle the amount of blood and organs that were shed. Now that is was done, they were all coming in to close the gates of the area again and dispose of the cadavers, praising Xiao for his work every time they passed through him, who was simply standing and staring at nothing. He knew he had just made an enormous task for the city, at the cost of some chunk of his soul, but he didn’t care about it. He did all that because of you, because he wanted you, or at least to keep your promise done.

“Euuurgghhh…” Something growled behind him, which Xiao immediately figured it was a zombie that somehow hadn’t died yet.

“M-Mr. Adeptus, behind you!” Some human called him out, reaching out a hand to call his attention better.

The human’s annoying voice triggered Xiao into immediately piercing the zombie from behind, without even looking at it, too focused on the pleasure he got from miring his own massacre.

But he was curious. How did that zombie manage to survive him? He decided to turn his face around to see what mistake he had committed.

Oh, if the only mistake was the way he had slashed the zombie…

It was you.

Xiao gasped in silence, too afraid to move another inch of that spear that was crossing your heart all the way to your back. Some humans looked at the scene confused, some looked shocked and worried, recognizing you and exactly what you were to Xiao.

Oh… why did he have to pierce your heart so perfectly? Why was he so intrigued in the bloodbath and triggered some random human’s words rather than being the precise Adeptus he was? The only thing you asked him to do was to leave you locked in that room… and he successfully broke it in minutes for something that wasn’t even worth it.

You were screaming in pain and agony savagely as expected of a zombie and Xiao just stood paralyzed, feeling new tears form in his eyes and his hands trembling. If you were really watching him from the sky, you would be witnessing that hypocritical view of his own hands taking your life away and he felt like he wanted to vomit because of it.

The more energy you wasted trying to get out of his hook and eating him, the quicker it took you to lose consciousness and life once again. The only second chance of life that Tevyat gave you in form of a zombie.

“Y/N..?” He whimpered your name.

If he thought he had already shed enough tears when you died in his arms as a human being, now that he was the murderer of your possible second chance, who was going to be cursed by the person he loved the most, cried until he lost his voice for days.

.

“Do you wish me to set the lantern in the water for you, Mr. Adeptus?” The woman asked to Xiao, going in front of him just to offer her hands to hold the lantern in his hands.

“No, thank you. Just hold me in my chair.” He replied, leaning down close to the floor although he could easily fall from his wheelchair.

The woman quickly reached Xiao’s waist and held him from falling, very worried about his lack of preoccupation for his health. Xiao hated what had become of him over the years, so he always tried to act independent of medicines or his wheelchair. He used to be the one to take care of everyone’s burdens and now he was a burden to everyone.

How did he get so worse to a point he couldn’t even walk anymore? You. After watching you die twice, the grief and regret possessed him with the help of his karmic debt. All those curses he held in chest every day were finally out of their cage and they only went back to it when he couldn’t even make use of it anymore. It was ugly, really ugly. He hunted down zombies every single hour and day of his life to somehow compensate what he had done to you like you were really watching him from afar although it didn’t make him feel any better deep down in his heart. It quickly consumed most of his soul, including his legs, so now he’s finally just a citizen trying to live in peace with himself.

He also started therapy. Morax and all of his Adepti companions kept insisting him to do it, so he decided to give up resisting it. It doesn’t fully help him, but it does make him feel more peaceful about your death. That’s also how he found out about setting lanterns in the Lantern Rite to honor your spirit. It was a better and healthier way to cope and honor you, so every year he counted the days until he could do it again.

The lantern finally managed to touch the water after doing a lot of effort to do it, watching it gently sway away from him, going back and forth multiple times, just like he watched your life sway away too.

He jumped back to his chair, still watching it in pure silence and in his own little world.

“Can I ask who was she again, Mr. Adeptus?” The caretaker asked.

She was kind, as expected from one and very curious about the almighty man she took care of. Since the tradition of setting a lamp in the sky or sea was about honoring something or someone, she knew it was probably someone important to him that had died in battle.

“You wanna hear me talk about her again for the third time?” He asked, a little grin showing up on his face.

He couldn’t tell if therapy was the one who helped him become more gentle and sweet with other people, or if it was just what his memories of you did to his tough shell.

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

Taglist: @amoyanderes @alatusorrow @kindofshyent @kindofscenic @the-stinky-winky @luminieee

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 22b

*Warning Adult Content*

MINE - Part 2

"Five minutes."

"What?"

"We're waiting five more minutes and then we'll go in there together if the Doc hasn't already come out with some news," Josie says, softening her tone. "I got your back, okay? Always."

Knox nods and bites the inside of his jaw to keep from getting choked up.

It's been a long time since he's felt this... low.

This worthless.

This hopeless and utterly exhausted.

Like nothing will ever go right no matter how hard he pushes himself.

The last time he felt like this had been when his mother passed away and that was several years ago.

He'd felt whatever it is that was beyond numb, and the support that he desperately needed was nonexistent.

These days, he feels like he's barely holding on but he's grateful because he doesn't have to go through life's dips alone anymore.

His brothers are great but they're also the opposite of sensitive.

Their advice usually falls along the line of 'You'll get over it, bro. Drink a beer and stop stressing.'

By far, Josie is the best at providing comfort and encouragement.

Knox would always joke about how she should go back to school to become a therapist.

"Oof. Somebody just woke up," Josie giggles, reaching for Knox's hand.

She places it where hers had been on her stomach and his eyes light up when he feels a little kick.

"It still boggles my mind that there's a human being growing in there."

"You ready for them to come out?" Knox asks.

"I don't know. Some days I think I'm ready for motherhood, and some days... I... I feel like a hot mess who doesn't deserve to be anyone's mother," Josie confesses, tears welling up in her eyes. "Sorry. My hormones are all over the place right now."

Knox doesn't have a therapist hat that he can put on, so he's shit at giving advice.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls Josie in for a brief hug, allowing her to have her moment.

They separate when the door to the bedroom opens and the doctor steps out with his supplies.

"How is he?" Knox blurts out.

"Stressed," Keith answers. "And mildly dehydrated but Mr. Robinson will live to see another day. I gave him my wife's card..."

"Great. You think he's going crazy," Knox mutters, growing uneasy. "This is bullshit."

"No, it's real life. My wife is a licensed psychologist who specializes in trauma, which he exhibits symptoms of," Keith clarifies, defensively. "She can help him. I told Mr. Robinson the first five sessions will be free. She's spoken with a few of you before, so of course everything will be kept off record. Whether Mr. Robinson reaches out or not is up to him but in the meantime, keep fluids in him and... uh, try to keep your 'club business' out of his sight."

Feeling unrightfully judged, Knox narrows his eyes and steps forward with clenched fists.

"Thanks for coming out on such short notice, Doc," Josie moves to stand in front of Knox while waving for Keith to hustle his ass down the hall. "Your money is waiting for you in the kitchen with Gavin. Safe travels back home. Goodbye."

"You all take care now," Keith nods, then speed walks down the hall without looking back.

"I know you're itching to get in there, so tell Everett I'll check on him later," Josie squeezes Knox's arm, pulling his attention back to her. "If you need anything, you know where to find me. And don't forget about what I said earlier..."

"Your sermon is saved, Red," Knox taps at his temple.

They share another hug before she turns around and leaves.

A good portion of the tension that'd been wrecking his body dissipates when he enters his bedroom and sees Everett sitting up going through one of his many shopping bags.

"Hey. You should be resting, not... doing whatever the hell you're doing."

"I've got to find it."

Everett ignores him and continues with his search.

He doesn't hear the door close or the lock switch.

He doesn't acknowledge Knox's presence when he sits on the bed, not until the bag gets snatched away from him.

"Hey. I was..."

"Not resting," Knox interjects, his voice soft but firm. "You should shower and get some sleep. It's been a long fucking day for the both of us."

Everett nods in agreement, breaking eye contact as he nervously fiddles with his hands on his lap.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "For sneaking off like I did. Today wouldn't have... Everything that happened today is all on me. I almost got my friends killed. I almost got you killed," his voice cracks and his pretty brown eyes glisten with fresh tears.

He quickly wipes them away before they fall.

"I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass. If you... If you want to send me back home, then I'd understand. I wouldn't hold it against you, I swear."

"Look at me, Everett."

"I am not sending you any fucking where. The thought has never crossed my mind," Knox places his index finger underneath Everett's chin, gently forcing his head up until their eyes meet.

"You're mine, do you hear me? Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to..." the four letter word dies in Knox's throat.

He swallows hard before continuing.

"You're mine, kitten. I'm not letting you go."

'Not Yet.'

"Do you believe me?" Knox asks.

"Yes," Everett responds, reaching for Knox's hand.

He pulls it away from his face to kiss Knox's bruised knuckles.

"Are you in pain right now?"

"I..." Knox's heart swells with emotion at the tender gesture.

He shakes his head.

"I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

He can deal with a few bruised knuckles.

What he can't deal with is Everett's pale appearance and the absence of his smart mouth.

"Doc said you're stressed out, which I get but also dehydrated."

"Yeah, I'm a little lightheaded but other than that, I'm okay. I drank a bottle of water but I probably need to drink a few more before I go to sleep."

Knox nods in agreement.

"I was going to suggest the same thing."

"Also, I don't want to sleep in that other room anymore," Everett confesses. "Want to stay in here with you. Can I?"

Knox smirks.

"I planned to move your shit back in here after you went to sleep, so we're on the same page."

They share a laugh.

"Need you to be honest with me, kitten. Will you?"

Everett nods.

"What's on your mind?"

"I want to know what you and Finn argued about."

Everett doesn't hold anything back as he tells Knox about the argument he had with Finn.

Knox sits quietly and listens, his blank expression giving nothing away.

"I get it now. He was just looking out for you," Everett finishes. "Please don't be pissed at him whenever you see him again, okay? We've already apologized to each other through text. I'm over it."

"I'm not. He never should have let you out of his fucking sight," Knox grumbles.

"I almost knocked his head off with a hot frying pan. I would've let me leave if I were him," Everett laughs.

Knox grunts in response, softening a little.

"Can I have my bag back now? I was looking for something important before you rudely snatched it away."

"Looking for what?" Knox raises a brow, curious.

"I'm not telling you... yet," Everett grins, mischievously. "Now give me the damn bag."

Knox responds with a playful eye roll but does as he's told.

Everett resumes his search, soon letting out a high-pitched squeal when he finds the item that he had been looking for.

"Close your eyes," Everett orders. "Now."

Knox sighs.

"What the hell are you planning?"

"Just close your damn eyes, man."

Knox huffs and obeys, then Everett proceeds to rummage through his pants pockets.

When he finds Knox's keys, they jingle for several seconds and then Everett grabs Knox's left hand to give him the keys back.

Knox can't tell the difference in them until after Everett tells him to open his eyes.

"I saw it and immediately thought of you." Everett holds his breath as he watches Knox inspect the small keychain with a mixture of amusement and affection. "I-I know you're not really an accessories kind of guy, so you don't have to keep it on there if you don't..."

"I love it," Knox lightly traces his thumb along the tiny panda's head, unable to stop the blush from settling in his cheeks. "Can't even remember the last gift I received, so this is..."

A cute little panda with a beaming grin and one paw lifted in greeting.

A simple gift to some but a priceless gift to Knox.

"It means a lot. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Everett can't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading throughout his body.

He figured Knox might get a kick out of the silly keychain and laugh.

Nothing could've prepared Everett for this type of vulnerable reaction.

"There's one more thing I want to give you, though."

Knox finally looks up.

"What's that?"

"Me."

Everett places a hand on Knox's cheek, his heart pounding in his chest as he closes his eyes just before leaning in to press their lips together.

[shiny-jr]

Henlo Shiny, could I get a yan!ruggie scenario? I don't see enough yan content for the sly hyena. Maybe how he first fell for darling? Or any scenario would do.

Thank you and I hope to see your blog grow!

Warning: Yandere if you squint really really really hard. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Ruggie Bucchi.

Summary: Just word vomit that slowly forms some semblance of Ruggie content.

Note: Wanted to write for this last night but I got distracted by drawing. Here, have a doodle of a lil' hyena guy in these trying times. Also, this request was in the inbox forever, before the 2,000 follower special, so the blog has grown! Yeah, so this scenario is more Ruggie and MC meeting before the yandere part because a character doesn’t just immediately meet a person and go “yeah, I’d kill for them.” That’s not how it works. So, like mentioned in the warning, you can barely notice the “yandere element” in this piece. I hope that’s okay.

Ruggie had his eyes on you for a while now. Oh, but not for the romantic mushy reasons one would normally presume. No, he didn't care at all for you, he cared more for what was on you. Jewelry. It wasn't much, in fact in was puny thin silver necklace with a pendant, which was nothing when compared to the other students from wealthy backgrounds. However, it was an easy steal, literally. Judging by your attitude, you were a little more trusting and nicer than the average Night Raven College student, plus your skills weren't outstanding enough to notice him or fight back if things got hairy, and you weren't from some prestigious background that would come back to bite him later when he stole from you. You were supposed to be an easy target.

After a week of reconnaissance, Ruggie could confidently say he was prepared to make his move. For days he hungrily eyed the silver on your neck, his fingers itching to swipe it for himself. Yet due to past... incidents with other thieves failing to cover up their tracks or getting caught in the process, he was forced to put more effort into his attempts to get past the students with their guard up. Of course, there were some students that should not be trifled with, but you weren’t one of them. 

Yeah, he considered how you may be sentimentally attached to the thing. It made sense since you wore it daily, he never really saw you without it. But he decided the the madol he could earn by selling it to buy extra lunch money or cash to send home was worth way more than any sappy sentimentality. 

However, during his time keeping an eye out for the necklace, he couldn’t help but notice little things about the person who wore it, despite not really caring for you. You had a nice smile and you weren’t so rude or conniving, which was a rarity in this school. You were like the bright yellow dandelion that miraculously thrived and survived between the cold hard gray concrete. Slowly, more often than he would’ve liked, his gaze would go from that shining silver chain, travel up your neck and past your jaw, all the way to your face until he caught himself staring. 

His interest was piqued, that was all, he convinced himself. It’s not everyday you see a goody-two-shoes at Night Raven College, a student that seemed like they would fit in more at that shiny prissy and uptight Royal Sword Academy. Well, turns out he wasn't completely right about the goody-two-shoes part... 

Stealing was like a natural skill to him. However, there was a trick to it and different difficulties. Stealing a necklace was one of the harder accessories to steal, as it was very close to their line of vision and sometime had different ways to take it off. The best way to steal one was create a distraction and when the victim’s attention was on said distraction, sneak up from behind and swipe the necklace. And because of his previous reconnaissance, he knew that this particular necklace was a clip-on from the back. 

So, for the distraction. During flight lessons, the perfect setting. As he was in the air, seated comfortably on the broom, he did a quick scan of his surroundings. There you were on the ground, watching the others fly overhead as you gripped your own broom. This was it, the perfect moment. Targeting another classmate a few feet away who was on the broom above the ground, low enough if he fell to not cause any fatal injuries but high enough to cause a ruckus–– he activated his unique magic. 

Laugh with me. 

With a swift movement and switching off the magic, it was enough to throw the unsuspecting student off balance. Quickly Ruggie stuck a landing behind you as the rest of the class watched the other student in the air being to topple off their broom. Now, everyone was distracted, waiting with bated breath to see if he would crash or somehow miraculously be saved–– even you appeared to be distracted by the sudden commotion. 

Perfect. Those sticky little fingers of his reached for the clip on the necklace, successfully undoing it without touching you. He gripped the chain and a triumphant grin spread on his face, quickly pulling away–– Click! 

It wouldn’t budge...? Instantly his hand was caught and his proud grin broke into a nervous smile. Shit... This was the first time he was caught in the act. 

“Aha! I knew it! It was you! Ace and Deuce had told me their stuff was stolen, and I almost didn’t believe it. But looks they were right, and you fell for the bait! I’ll take that, thanks.” Snatching back the part of the silver necklace still in his hands, you held onto his wrist to prevent him from running. “You weren’t watching me this week because you wanted to talk to me, you were watching me because you wanted this, huh?”

As you were talking, that’s when Ruggie saw it. An extra little chain connecting your necklace to the back of your tie, meaning it couldn’t be stolen unless someone undid the part connected to your tie. That was... unexpected. He presumed you were some goody-goody naive little student–– turns out after all that time spent watching you, he presumed wrong. He didn’t know you like he thought, but now... The blonde could only give a nervous laugh, making no effort to pry himself out of your grip, “Let’s not be too hasty! I do wanna talk to you now.”

[quinncupine]

May I request Alpha Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki (seperate) always protecting their Omega reader? How would they react if another alpha tried to claim the omega? Likee hmm say for example the two are walking on the street then another alpha just jumps in and talks about like how attractive reader's scent is and stuff! It is alright if youre not comfortable with writing with this many characters, this ABO au, or this idea in general!

Notes: Hi Anon! I’m so sorry this took longer than expected to do! I promise I didn’t forget you! I don’t really know much about the ABO au so I had to do a bit of research first. I’m not really sure if I landed it though, but I did have fun writing it! It’s always fun to try out something new, so I do hope you enjoy it! I also tried to keep it gender-neutral.

Warnings: Language, mild violence, slight blood, possessive behavior, Alpha-Omega au, drinking-drunken behavior

Word Count: ~2.7K

Wanna request something?

...

BAKUGO

Katsuki is the definition of aggressive. It's no surprise he'd be just as aggressive as an Alpha, especially when it came to you. Your mere presence was enough to send him into ultra possessive protective mode.

The two of you were heading back to your shared apartment after one of your weekly date nights. Since he was a pro hero, he didn't often have much free time, so he set aside a specific night each week, just for you. He wasn't the best at showing his love through words, so his actions more than made up for the fact.

A muscled arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked through the deserted street. The ground seemed to be swaying a bit, or that might've just been you. One drink too many could do that. Katsuki warned you not to drink so much, but you didn't listen and as much as he complained that he wouldn't carry you home, he still held most of your body weight up by a single firm hand.

"I love you," you cooed, dropping your head into his shoulder with a smile.

His hand tightened around you and a cocky grin spread across his face. "I know."

With a slight pout, you huffed, "say it back."

The tiniest roll of his eyes before he grabbed your chin with his free hand and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. You were about to question him but his lips silenced you with a deep kiss. "You know I do." He tried to sound annoyed, but you could see straight through it.

He wouldn't be caught dead being this sentimental with you if anyone else was nearby, especially if another Alpha was near. To him, acting like that opened someone up for weakness, and with you on the line, he would never allow that. But since it was just the two of you alone, he allowed himself to show just a slight bit of passion. These little moments were reserved solely for you.

Wrapping your arms around him as much as you could, you let out a heavy sigh with sleepy eyes. The peaceful night air had a bit of a chill to it, but that was nothing compared to the heavenly warmth radiating from his body. That was until you felt his whole person stiffen.

Confused, you looked up. Then the smell hit you. Another Alpha's scent. Even in your hazy state, it smelled overwhelming, intentional…and all-too aggressive. It literally smelled like trouble. You'd had trouble in the past with other Alpha's coming on way too strong, which was one of the reasons why you were so grateful to have found Katsuki. He doesn't put up with any bullshit and isn't afraid to fight others off.

Katsuki's nails dug into your waist, his feet abruptly coming to a stop. Jaw clenched so hard, teeth nearly cracking from the pressure. Ruby-red eyes narrowed into deadly slits. A vicious snarl itching to see some action. It was a sight you were used to seeing from him. Criminals and heroes alike tried to avoid that exact look he was wearing right now.

Plenty of Alpha's had tried to come onto you in the past, but none have been so bold as to outright try to challenge Katsuki, especially in the dead of night on some deserted street. The moment they got a whiff of that dangerous heady scent, dripping with aggression and possessiveness, they immediately backed off. He didn't know the meaning of mercy.

When you turned your head to pinpoint the source of the scent, he twisted around first, swinging you to his back in one easy motion. The street looked empty from where you poked your head around his arm.

"Get lost fuckwad," he growled, "or die."

The shadows shifted and a man clad in loose black clothes that blended into the darkness so well you were having a hard time keeping your eyes on him. It was only when he stepped into the glow of a streetlamp from a block away did you finally see him clearly. He casually crossed his arms behind his head. A way of showing Katsuki that he wasn't threatened in the slightest. Even a full block away the poignant smell of him invaded your nose.

"What a temper on this one," he purred with a sultry charm guised to disarm, a complete contradiction of his hostile scent. "You know babe, you'd be much better off with me."

"Don't fucking talk to them," Katsuki snapped, fingers digging into the fabric covering your arm. "Or I'll kill you."

"It's not worth it," you tugged on his jacket a bit. "Let's just go."

Even as you said it, you knew it was pointless. Katsuki never backs down from a fight. Violence is ingrained in his DNA.

"Gonna take orders from an Omega? At least I know how to keep them in place, like a real Alpha," he smirked, crossing the street. A deep growl rumbled in Katsuki's chest, but the other Alpha ignored it. "Can't you smell it? I could smell their scent three blocks away."

You were on suppressants but alcohol is notorious for diluting their effect and of course, you had to show him up and drink more than him tonight. Was your scent out of control? You didn't think so and Katsuki hadn't said anything about it all night. You couldn't smell it, but if that Alpha had followed you all this way, it must've been strong.

As the Alpha drew closer, you realized just how bulky the man was. He stood taller than Katsuki by almost a foot and that grin stitched into his face was making you nervous. The whole situation was stressing you out so much Katsuki could most likely smell it comes off you in waves. His bright vermillion eyes found yours and he huffed. That instinct to protect was warring with his compulsion for reckless abandon. Before he could say anything, the Alpha made the first move.

With a snap of his teeth, the burly man took off towards Katsuki and Katsuki didn't waste a second. He pushed you back and charged. The two met in a head-on collision. A bright explosion lit up the darkened street with an echoing boom. When the light faded and the smoke cleared, Katsuki stood over his opponent, an angry snarl spilling from his grinning face as he smashed his foot into the Alpha's singed back. What was the phrase? All bark and no bite.

Once he was sure the Alpha was down for the count, he trudged over to you. Without a word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away. After a few minutes, he deemed it far enough and stopped to pull you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

"The nerve of these assholes," he muttered, eyes still glaring at the soft shadows surrounding them. He wouldn't feel better until you were back home, under his watchful eye. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," you mumbled into his shirt, closing your eyes with a relieved sigh. "I'm always fine when I'm with you."

MIDORIYA

Izuku isn't a typical Alpha. His demeanor is usually quiet and kind so it always surprised most people to find out he was one. Only making sense when he went into battle mode. The sheer ferocity this guy displays while fighting is one of the most intense things anyone will experience. R.I.P any brave soul that decides to challenge him. He gives it his all, especially if it means protecting someone under his care; namely you.

After leaving the theater (yes, Izuku drags you to each new All Might Movie premier, and no, you don't have a choice in the matter) you lean into him, listening to him gush about every detail the movie had gotten right or horribly wrong. This man was a serious fanboy. His voice was soothing to hear to so you could listen to him prattle on forever if you had your way.

The two of you had almost made it to the car when someone stumbled into you. If Izuku hadn't had his arm around your waist, you would've fallen down with the obviously drunk man. He pulled you away from the drunkard and did a quick check to make sure you weren't hurt before turning his attention to the man. "Hey, are you alright buddy?"

"Dammit!" the man groaned as he crawled back to his feet, swaying from side to side once he made it up. "Watch where you're goin'," he slurred out, lips having a hard time forming the words. Then he sniffed and blinked a few times, focusing on you. "Mmm, you smell good."

Izuku stiffened, subtly stepping in front of you, eyes narrowed. "Your drunk, it's time you went home."

"What's a lovely thing like you doing out so late?" he ignored Izuku entirely, puffing out his chest with a sleazy grin. That's when the scent hit you. Strong, mixed with the smell of alcohol. It made your nose wrinkle in disgust. "Come here doll, I can take good care of ya."

A low rumble vibrated deep within Izuku's chest. A warning. A threat. Most sensible Alpha's would've taken the cue, but this guy was far from anything resembling sense. Izuku is, for the most part, a rational Alpha, but when the drunkard stepped closer to touch you, he lost it.

It was so quick, you almost missed it. Izuku snatched the grimy hand, twisted it which in turn forced the man to twist as well, and sent him flying with a powerful kick to the rear. He kicked him so hard the Alpha flew halfway across the parking lot, landing in a small puddle with a loud splash. It took a moment for him to roll over, body still trying to process what just happened before finally falling back into the puddle with a long-winded groan.

Izuku stood rigid, eyes locked on the Alpha who had curled in on himself. He gnashed his teeth a few times trying to even out his huffy breaths. Small sparks of green electricity quietly crackled off his skin.

"Izuku?" you grabbed one of his fisted hands and pulled it close.

He looked down at you, still trying to calm his racing heart. Izuku didn't like to get like this in front of you and that in itself was making him more upset. But a part of him loved the fact that he could protect you so easily and that you took comfort in that fact.

The Alpha, apparently too drunk to remember what just happened, rolled out of the puddle and back to his feet. His back was dripping wet, but he didn't even seem to notice as he staggered off into the night.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, finally turning to you.

You wrapped your arms around his muscly frame, fingertips just barely meeting on his back. "What're you sorry for? You protected me, didn't you?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Pride swelled in his chest. A slight tinge rushed to his cheeks so he tucked his face into your neck, nuzzling his nose deep into the crook. Your scent was always so calming and he stayed like that for a minute until he remembered you were both still standing outside the car. "Let's go home."

TODOROKI

Shoto is a strong silent Alpha. He's probably the calmest of the three, but that doesn't mean he won't hesitate to kick anyone's ass if they dare mess with you. He's mastered the evil eye glare and combined with his natural Alpha aura, most steer clear.

You had decided to take a day trip to the next prefecture over to see your friends and had asked Shoto to pick you up from the train station. So, there he was, standing on the platform, umbrella in hand as the rain came down in a steady, freezing pour.

When the train finally pulled in, he scanned the cars until he saw you step out. Even in the heavy rain, he could pick up your scent and it was screaming distress. It confused him until he saw why…or rather smelled why. Stepping out behind you was a lanky man, mere inches from your back. His grinning face was bent next to yours as he talked with you, well more like at you. Large hands ghosted over your hair, taking in heavy whiffs of you. A grimace stuck on your face as you did everything in your power to ignore him, but trying to ignore an Alpha was like trying to ignore a blowhorn to the face. Loud, obnoxious, and completely overwhelming. The longer you ignored him, the more irritated he grew.

Shoto snapped the umbrella closed so hard he almost broke it. He no longer cared about getting wet and used the tip to wedge himself between the crowd of people. The hair on his neck stood on end. The rain on his right side froze the minute it touched his skin while on his left, it turned to steam. He tried to suppress that ball of rage building in the back of his throat, only for an aggravated growl to escape. Anyone who managed to catch his wrathful gaze quickly jumped out of his warpath.

The Alpha placed his hand on your shoulder and that was the final straw. You turned to swat him off, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you right up against him, dark eyes narrowed, teeth bared. Panic took over as you struggled to free yourself from his too-tight grip.

An umbrella came out of nowhere, whacking the Alpha right in the nose. He let go of your wrist with a startled yelp, stumbling back a few feet.

Shoto suddenly materialized between the two of you. You'd been so distracted that you didn't even realize you could smell Shoto's scent. But now that he was up close, it was all you could smell. Strong, powerful, and…furious.

"What the fu-AAAH!" With a scream, he toppled over. Both legs were frozen together in a thick column of ice. He hit the ground hard, head smacking on the wet concrete.

Shoto towered over him, shooting that perfected evil eye, face masked in shadows. "Next time," he growled, voice low and terrifyingly calm, "I'd advise not to touch people without their permission." Crouching next to his head, he glanced down at his left hand where a small flame erupted, and despite the pouring rain, only seemed to grow brighter. "Or you might get burned."

The man wisely stilled, eyes wide. "I didn't know they already had a mate dude, I swear."

"Regardless, don't ever let me catch you treating someone like that again," he snapped his hand closed, extinguishing the flame. "Is that understood?"

The threat was heard loud and clear but the Alpha glanced at you and Shoto grabbed his chin and pulled his gaze back to him. "Don't ever look at them again."

A nod and Shoto threw his face to the side, standing up. Taking a moment to compose himself again, he turned to you, hunched in on yourself, looking slightly embarrassed. Too many people were staring because Shoto had made a scene. He could care less about what other people thought. Someone had messed with you and he had to make it right.

Holding a hand out, you accepted it and he ushered you away. The both of you were soaking wet but he still opened the umbrella again, shielding you from the rain. Once you were far enough away from the station and other people, he stopped to inspect you.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, looking for any obvious signs or lingering scent marks.

"No, I'm fine." You hugged yourself, not sure if you were shivering from the cold wet or from that creep, possibly both.

With a frown, he pulled you in close. His left side immediately warmed you up and you buried your head as far as you could into his chest, that familiar, safe scent surrounding you. "Thanks, Sho."

That intense anger was slowly ebbing away the longer you held onto him. That need to protect, to comfort taking its place.  You alone were the only thing that seemed to be able to calm him down when he was so worked up. Wrapping his free arm around you, tucking you in as tightly as possible, he kissed the top of your head. "You know I'd do anything for you."

[kazanovah]

Pairings: Bonten trio x f!reader

Warnings: mature themes 18+

Synopsis: after losing everything to the military she served for, reader is hell bound on seeking out her vengeance.

MNDI 18+

Part 1| next|

Your life has been nothing but utter chaos. Trapped between abusive parents and the horrendous bullies that stalked you like a lion hunting it's prey, it seemed you could never catch a break in life as you constantly fought for your right — the right to be treated like a human being.

Nothing in your life had gone right until you met him, Ren Saito. He had been your saving grace from the chaotic mess that had become your life as he had been the first one to show you kindness after he had transferred to your high school. He was gentle, he listened to you, and most of all he saw you for who you really were.

So when he proposed and you happily pledged your life to him, you also pledged your allegiance to the military as well. Because to put it quite simply, you would simply do anything for your husband right? No matter the cost, and til death do you part.

Five faithful years of marriage, and five horrifying yet faithful years to the military. You ranked up quickly, filling into the role of lieutenant in your second year and being able to command a squadron of men into battle. Of course you taken many lives, seen many die, but you've somehow managed to save just as many, if not more and that thought had always been so rewarding.

Until the night your life came crashing down around you. The events that unfolded that bloody, merciless night will forever haunt your mind and plague your dreams where they would turn into gruesome flashbacks of what had happened to you. The things so pitifully awful that it earned you an honourable discharge, and you had found yourself coming home alone, now a widow - and it had been that way for the last three years.

"Your martini, miss." The bartender said, breaking you from your thoughts as he set the glass down on the wooden flounder before sliding it over to you. You look down at the drink, with two olives and ordered extra dry - just to your liking and smirked the slightest bit.

You had developed a habit of drowning your sorrows in the most unhealthy ways, and there was no one around to stop you.

"Thank you." You said, flashing the younger male a toothy grin and smirking internally when you saw his flustered state.

Flirting is becoming easier, maybe I can strike back sooner than I thought, you thought to yourself as you bright the glass to you red painted lips before taking a long sip of the alcohol, the warm fluid trailing easily down your throat.

As you looked around the bustling nightclub, that was when you finally saw them.

A group of veterans who you had served with and commanded, walking into the nightclub with a group of formally dressed business men. You couldn't deny the way the business men were sinfully hot, and you found yourself tracing the rim of your glass with your index finger as you watched from afar.

A male with a pink mullet looked like he was about to pass out as he stumbled a little bit behind the group, and you squinted as you made out the faint outline of diamond shaped scars on the sides of his lips.

Interesting, you thought. I swear I've seen him before.

You didn't have very much time to reminisce as you felt your blood beginning to boil when you saw the man responsible for your misfortune, and you gripped the glass so tight you feared it would break between your fingers. You had to bite on your tongue to keep from calling out to the man, and you felt yourself itching towards the gun holstered to the inside of your thigh.

Not here. You told yourself. You knew that you were going to get your revenge on them, you knew that you were going to bring justice to your husbands name, but you also knew that you needed to be smart and trail them for just a little bit longer.

After all, you've already waited three years, whats a few more days?

Downing the rest of your drink, you ordered another and just continued to sit at the bar, periodically looking over to watch the group of twelve men conversing amongst themselves. You could tell the business men were wary of the veterans before them, which was odd considering the publicity and honours we would get from passing civilians, but they had every right to feel that way about them.

After all, they took everything from you and who's to say that you were their only victim?

After about an hour, you saw them getting up to leave so you slipped a wad of cash which was definitely way more than necessary, and stood up from the bar. You causally followed behind the group, but not too closely that they would notice you. When you saw the group parting ways, you decided to follow the group of unsuspecting businessmen towards a limo parked in the lot, pausing to duck between two vehicles when you saw the men stopping.

"Do you think they're legit?" A tall, well built male with a deep scar running along the side of his face asked, uncertainty clear in his deep tone.

"I don't know Kakucho, but what other choice do we have? We're running out of options." The smallest male said, running his fingers through his platinum white undercut in minor frustration.

"Thinks we should follow em." The male with the pink mullet slurred, earning a scoff from a tall male with a scar going down his left eye and you watched as a puff of smoke from his lit cigarette filled the air around him.

"I think you should go home and sleep this off." He said, his gruff voice was full of annoyance and you watched as he brought his right hand up to flick the pink haired males forehead.

"Hey! Watch it, Omi!" The male who had been flicked said, dramatically bringing his hands up to his forehead.

"Would the both of you cut it with the sibling rivalry?" Another skyscraper of a man asked, his lilac eyes and matching hair stuck out like a sore thumb and you realized that he was one of the three men you found to be the most attractive out of the both of them.

"Like you and little miss priss over there are any better." This comeback came from a male with long, flowing white hair who was currently looking down at his manicured nails in boredom, and you could have sworn you saw the tick marks forming on the purple haired males forehead.

"Enough. All of you. Get back to headquarters, aside from you three. Make sure Sanzu doesn't choke on his own vomit." The small white haired male said, earning a collective "yes boss," from the men with the matching mauve eyes.

When the rest of the group split and got into the idling limo, you waited until the two conscious males grabbed their friend who was on the verge of passing out before lobbing each of his arms over their shoulders and beginning to walk out of the lot with them. You noticed they had matching tattoos on the columns of their throats, and you made a mental note about the odd symbol.

This is interesting. If you follow them you might find out some more information. You thought, and you made sure to keep your distance about a block and half away at all times whilst you followed them through Roppongi.

When they made it all the way into a high end apartment, you called it quits for the evening and walked a few blocks before hailing a taxi to come and take you back to your home - somewhere you hated being due to it being so empty, yet so full of the painful memories that you've once shared with your now dead husband.

Upon walking into the door, you were immediately greeted by your two 'service dogs,' who you relied on heavily over the last three years. The larger one of the two Belgian Malinois was named Sarge, and he had served with you overseas and accompanied you on every mission. The other, the smaller female who's bite force was just as strong as her male comrades, was named Lina and you had gotten her to help you grieve the things you've lost.

Instead of going upstairs and going to bed in the wee hours of the morning, you had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a black t-shirt before wandering into your office and plopping down in the comfortable chair before opening up your computer and compiling the results of the data you had collected.

When you thought back to the businessmen you had followed, you noticed that two of them had matching tattoos on the collars of their throats, and you couldn't help but realize you had seen that symbol before. A quick google search quickly told you that they were in fact a part of a crime organization that was feared by the entire country - well, everyone except you.

You know that the underworld can be a dangerous place. Full of drugs, gambling, prostitution, arson, murder - you name it, the underworld most certainly has it. But you also knew that the real danger in the world, the really vile and disgusting people, were the ones controlled by the government. The ones who were meant to serve and protect.

Now knowing that a crime organization was getting involved with the government and or the military, you sighed. This was great news as you would be able to find out more information to use against your old squadron, but you also knew that this meant you would have to prolong your vengeance mission even longer now.

With a huff of annoyance, you got to work researching anything and everything you could about Bonten and their crimes. It was obvious they were untouchable to the authorities, but it made the situation even more confusing and you ran a hand through your hair in frustration as you let your mind wander.

Fucking Bonten.

[smeraldos]

happier [part 2]

You weren’t picky, but you might be soon, given the way your dates turned out. The men you met were either as boring as a drive through the desert (cue the tumbleweeds) or charming until they ghosted (also cue the tumbleweeds). At this point, dating felt hopeless, and you were ready to call it quits.

Jin doesn’t exactly agree, chaotically good friend that he is. He’s determined to help you, and it starts like this…

genre: fluff, comedy, angst

pairings: seokjin/reader, jeongguk/reader

tags: jin the mischief-maker matchmaker, mutual pining, possibly unrequited love

the rest of the story: part 1. Jin (who you've fallen for, but let's forget about it, okay) sets you up with someone. He just won't tell you who. You take matters into your own hands and find, through Yoongi, that your date's contact name starts with a "Ki."

a/n: shout-out to the anon who left a message about loving these two! hope you enjoy.

Kim’s 7/11

Ready when you are

Also

What's her opinion…

The message disappears quicker than you can read it, but it isn’t the content you're interested in.

It's who it's from.

Kim's 7/11, though a funny nod to the Netflix show, starts with a "Ki." Whether or not he's your date…you’ll have to find out.

To take Jin's phone, you need to distract him, and attempt #1 involves tapping out a tarantella on your armrest. You hated playing the piece when you were younger, the tempo frantic and almost impossible to keep up with. Jin, however, is hardly bothered. He doesn’t spare you a glance.

Attempt #2 involves opening and closing the clasp on your purse, the clicking sound annoying even yourself, before letting go with a sigh. Still, no glance from Jin. At this point, it would take a kangaroo crossing the street to get his attention, and even then, his gaze wouldn't stray far from where his phone is propped, message unanswered.

There goes your chance of getting to it.

"What's up?" 

Or so you thought.

Jin is looking at you expectantly, so you paste on a look you hope says you're fine, but you're really not fine. "Nothing."

"Nice try," he quips. "Now, if you didn't let out the saddest sigh in the history of sighs, then maybe, maybe, I'd believe you."

"Oh, shut up. I'm just…" You stare out the window a moment, the view pristine without a Yoshi plushie in your way. Somehow, it looks a little bare. "Antsy."

"Nervous?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, whatever it is, you’re making me nervous with—" A triple honk startles you both, so he grits his teeth and resumes driving. "Quick, take my phone, pick a playlist, and stop fidgeting. Passcode is your mom's birthday. I'm gonna let the guy pass and give him a friendly honk or four."

"Are you crazy?" As much as your fingers itch to grasp his phone, you can't. The driver Jin wants to enact his revenge on could put you both through the wringer.

Jin rolls his eyes so hard you can feel it. "Oh, come on, I'm not actually going to do it," he says, much to your relief. "It just makes me feel better to say I am. But the passcode I'm serious about. Your sister seems to think my phone is free real estate."

You'd scold her on his behalf if you weren’t about to do the same thing. "Want me to switch it back?"

"Please. 041292. I'll change it later. And pick a playlist while you're at it."

Jin's phone unlocks easily, his screen giving way to an image of a little girl's cheeks pressed against a car window. She's making a silly face, no doubt copying him, and sure enough, you catch a reflection of Jin pouting on the side.

Seeing the two of them is enough to make you second-guess snooping. Then again, you wouldn't need to if he weren't intent on keeping your date a secret.

The message from Kim's 7/11 reads:

Ready when you are

Also

What's her opinion on flowers?

A giddy rush of energy sweeps over you, one you try to tamp down as you type out your response:

no thx, she says. she wants to know your name.

Kim’s 7/11

I can't believe you still haven't told her. TELL HER

Me

i'm the friend

Kim's 7/11

o

O

OOoo

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

Kim’s 7/11

Well-played 👏👏👏 And does this brilliant friend have a number?

You'd be wittier if you had the time. Instead, you send your number, reset Jin's passcode, and pick a playlist starting with "Teenage Dirtbag." Heart pounding, you put his phone back.

"Finally," Jin says, but he isn’t addressing you. The traffic is beginning to let up, and the few miles to your destination — also a surprise — go by without a hitch.

A rococo-style building comes into view, the print above the entrance reading Le festin. In high school, you took German, so festin could mean total dunce and you'd still think it's pretty. Either your date is pretentious or desperate to impress.

"Just your type, then," Jin quips when you joke about it. You have half a mind to throttle him.

"Kim, for two," your date tells the hostess, and is promptly surprised when he hears you exclaim, "Wait, that's my reservation, too!"

The hostess takes your outburst in stride, motioning for a waiter to lead the two of you to your table. "Right this way," the waiter says, and you use the time to catch your breath, slowly feeling your flushed cheeks cool off. You can't bring yourself to talk to your date yet, and luckily, he hasn't started talking to you, either.

In fact, his face is unreadable as he rounds the table and takes the chair backed into a gilded column. Curiously, it's also the seat harder to get out of, and he'd done so without any indication from you.

"Can I start you two off with any drinks?" The waiter asks, and because you’re sitting closer to him, his question is directed at you. So maybe this isn't a good spot. You chance a glance at your date, who looks completely at ease reading his menu and ignoring you.

Helpless, you skim the page until you land on a drink you recognize. "I'll have a Merlot, please."

"Excellent," the waiter says, jotting it down. "And you, sir?"

"Just water would be fine."

"Alright, I'll be back with your drinks shortly."

Your date smiles, folding his menu while you study yours for what must be the tenth time. Appetizers you can wing, but if you choose the wrong main course, you'd waste a majority of your dinner. That, and you need a minute to think. You have a feeling your date wouldn't warm up to your icebreakers, and if Jin weren't on a date himself, you'd ask him how in the world he thought you'd click with the man sitting before you.

For one, Kim's 7/11 — Taehyung — is not someone you'd see catching the train to Manhattan. He's someone you'd see on a show catching the train to Manhattan, if that.

With his tailored suit jacket and unbuttoned collar, he looks more at home in the backseat of an S-class. Preferably one with high mileage, and one he could drive if he wanted, a veined hand steering the wheel while the lights played off his strong profile, much as they were doing here. The candlelight, upon last glance, dipped his skin in honey-gold. And while being a looker is a definite plus in your book, he isn't as approachable as he'd been over text.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

You look up to meet his gaze, wide and sincere in a way you didn't expect. “I'll switch seats with you if you'd like,” he explains, then stage-whispers, “but between you and me, yours is the comfier one. I wouldn't complain if you want me to take it.”

A grin plays at the corners of his lips, his eyes sparkling with warmth and mischief. There's something to be said about dates who make you feel at home and just how rare it is. "Thank you," you say with a smile, "though I'll take your word for it. If I didn't know any better, I’d think you wanted my seat."

"Then it's a good thing we're about to know each other," he says smoothly. "I'm Jeongguk, by the way."

Your reply comes a second too late. "Jeongguk?"

"Yeah," he says, now confused. "Is something wrong?"

Kim's 7/11 told you his name was Taehyung. That's what you'd saved his contact name as, and the two of you confirmed your reservation was the same.

"Shoot," you mutter, pulling on your purse and preparing to stand. "I'm so sorry, I don't think I was meant to be your date. It was nice meet—"

He interrupts with your name. "That's who I was supposed to meet tonight. I'm guessing that isn't you?"

"No, that is me," you say slowly. "I'm just…hold on a minute. If you'll excuse me."

You extract your phone, dead set on wringing the truth out of Jin when you see a new message. A few new messages, in fact:

taehyung

And Jeongguk is your date. I'll let him introduce himself, but if you need the dirt on him...🫡

jin from orientation

btw your fate is Jeongguk Jeon

*date

nvm fate kinda has a nice ring to it 💍

you're welcome

You slip your phone back into your purse, choosing to respond to Taehyung later (Jin, you'll ignore). "So," you say to Jeongguk, who has done some quick validation of his own, based on the phone he looks up from, "I have some good news and I have some bad news."

Jeongguk doesn't hesitate. "What's the bad news?"

"I don't know French cuisine."

"And the good news?"

"I'm your date."

"Ah," he says, a hint of a smile gracing his face, "I know a great spot for jjajangmyun. Want to go?"

[get-shiggy-with-it]

collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

“I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you’ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.

[solarwonux]

41.  “Dance with me.”

59.  “I’m still sore from last night.”

ceo!yoongi x reader

w.c: 1.6k

warnings: a little suggestive if you like squint, sweet teeth numbing fluff

note: please please let me know your thoughts, it helps me out a lot. Also send in a drabble request hehehe.

masterlist || drabble game

Yoongi loved mornings. 

Yoongi loved mornings more, now that the two of you had finally moved in together after years of dancing around the subject. He loved waking up next to you, with your face buried into the side of his body and your tiny snores escaping your dry chapped lips, echoing against the eggshell walls of the room. He loved the way the thin rays of the morning sun peek through the slits of the blackout curtains. The light dancing against your body, illuminating all his favorite features. Which was all of you. He loved the way you would stir, and he would race against time to shut his eyes before you could catch him starring at you. 

You always did. 

You will never let him know that you knew he always woke up first to love you silently without you or anyone in the world there to interrupt him. It was his most valuable and cherished secret, the only one he kept from you. So, you vowed to take the fact that you knew about it to the grave. 

Today though, you had beat him at his own game. You had woken up first, silently watching as his breath was calm and concentrated. The minuscule stress lines that had appeared throughout his face over the years of overwork, nowhere to be seen. He looked peaceful, younger; like he didn’t carry the entire weight of the world on his shoulders. 

Despite cherishing his sleep more than anything in the world, you understood now, why he always woke up first. He looked so beautiful, so raw, so intimate, so vulnerable, like a work of art. And you could hope that he felt the same way.

You found yourself never wanting to take your eyes away from his sleeping form, afraid you would miscount the intervals between his inhales and his exhales. Afraid you would miss the way his lips parted in inaudible snores or the way he would pout whenever he moved. Yet, the clock on his bedside table thought otherwise. 

8:30am

Last night, you had made a promise to yourself before falling asleep, that you would wake up early to make him breakfast. It was his day off, the office didn’t need their big bad CEO that never once seemed to crack a smile, even if he was impressed or excited. You never understood why he kept such a fake front for his employees when they knew that he was the biggest softy on the planet, especially when it came to his loved ones. He would turn heaven and hell over  if it meant he could protect everyone he loved. He would even sacrifice himself to ensure that nothing ever happened to his friends, family, and you. But you supposed that his fleeting image was all part of his job, so you let him be. 

You took one last look at your sleeping boyfriend, biting your lower lip, contemplating on whether you should just stay in bed until he woke up. Or get up to prepare him a whole breakfast feast just like he deserved. You almost picked the first option until your stomach grumbled lowly, indicating that the second option was the better option, unfortunately. So, you got up silently, and carefully, afraid that any wrong move would wake him up and ruin your surprise.

The air in your lungs got caught in the back of your throat as you saw him stir slightly. Sleepy incoherent mumbles fell out of his lips. You froze in fear, your robe midway on, watching as he tugged the sheets up to his chin and sunk further into the bed. When you realized he wasn’t getting up anytime soon you finished putting on your robe and quickly made your way into the kitchen. 

“You know it’s my day off right?” Yoongi mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, sweatpants low on his hips, his messy hair sticking up in all different directions. A slight blush appeared on your cheeks when you remembered how your fingers had been tangled up in it, as you screamed out his name like a mantra, while he made love to you until the late morning hours. 

“And you don’t have to be at work for another three hours.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and gave your temple a sweet kiss, “good morning honey, how’d you sleep?” He rested his head against your shoulder, clinging onto you like he was afraid you would vanish.

“I slept like a baby.” You smiled cutting the last stem of the strawberry you had diligently been working on before he walked in. “Morning to you too sleepy head.” You turned your face, leaving a delicate kiss against his bed head. Yoongi smiled, he loved waking up next to you, admiring you silently as you slept. But he also loved being wrapped up in your warmth as you went around doing your daily morning routine. You always complained about how he never let you get things done. That the extra weight clinging onto you like a koala was only slowing you down. He knew you secretly loved it and would not be able to go about your day peacefully if he just stopped. 

In fact, he had tested it out once after the two of you had gotten into a petty fight. You had called him that day at lunch time in tears, claiming that everything had gone wrong because he had ignored you all morning. Truth be told he had felt the same way. That was the day he truly realized that he could never live without you.

“I was hoping you would wake up after I finished making breakfast.” You pouted putting your knife down and gathering all the strawberries you had tentatively cut up putting them into a bowl. 

“And I was hoping we could spend the entire morning in bed, but we can’t always get what we want in life can we?” He mumbled against your clothed shoulder. His fingers cheekily playing with the knot of your robe.

You turned in his arms, “all morning? Doing what?” Your arms made their way around his neck pulling him closer. 

Yoongi smirked, his fingers itching to untie your robe praying you weren’t wearing anything underneath. “I have a few ideas, some good, some bad. But I mostly just wanted to keep sleeping with you in my arms.” He shrugged, running his tongue along his bottom lip, wetting it before closing the distance and planting a soft, intimate kiss against your lips. 

It was savory, enough to keep you on your toes, wanting for more when he pulled away. “Good because I’m still sore from last night.” You said pointedly. Yoongi threw his head back laughing, his chest swelling up with pride as he remembered how you didn’t want to stop after three rounds. Even begging him, getting down on your knees for him in the shower. The two of you still hadn’t christened your newly shared apartment but he was positive that last night would’ve been the night if you hadn’t fallen asleep. 

“That’s on you my little minx, you didn’t want to stop, I just fulfilled your desires.” He winked, kissing your cheek and moved aside, an arm still around your waist as he reached over for the Bluetooth speaker he kept in the kitchen. 

“Hey!” You scoffed, hitting his chest lightly, “this isn’t completely on me, you came home and didn’t even let me greet you properly before you were carrying me off to our room.” 

“Honestly babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirked as he scrolled through his phone. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he looked through his music selection. 

“We’re going to have to work on that memory of yours. It's starting to worry me.” You said in fake concern and circled your arms around his waist pulling him close, “I can help.” You whispered before planting a small kiss on the blooming flowers you had left on his chest last night. You could never get enough of him. 

“Mhm, I’ll take you up on your offer later.” He set his phone down on the kitchen counter, the soft melody of an unfamiliar song sounding through his Bluetooth speaker. “Right now, dance with me?” He tilted his head to the side. He didn’t give you enough time to answer when he was already leading you to the middle of the kitchen, his arms finding their perspective place around your waist as he started swaying the two of you in place. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his nose a tiny peck, earning a boyish smile from Yoongi. “What is this?” 

“A song Namjoon and I are working on...for our wedding.” The afterthought falling out his lips before he had time to stop it. It wasn’t until he felt your body go rigid in his arms that he realized what he had said. “Um, forget I said that.” 

“We just moved in together and you’re already planning our wedding playlist, I didn’t think you would be the type. What’s next you’re going to show me the Pinterest board you created?” You joked ignoring the way your heart was racing, hoping he couldn’t feel it through the thinness of your silk robe. 

He groaned, annoyed. So what? Maybe he did have a Pinterest board with ideas for your wedding. He had been adding pictures to it since he met you five years ago at Junkook’s grand opening for his art gallery. The second he spotted you laughing along with his best friend, hard enough for champagne to come out of your nose. The ice around his heart melted and he knew he would be spending the rest of his life with you. He’s been writing songs about it ever since.

“Maybe another time, we have enough time for that, right now we have two hours before you have to go to work and I plan on milking every second of it.”