#hell the au thing itself might be something i start apologizing for if i keep this up. like dude i just

[hazmaticalblue]

god. i'm gonna end up creating so many sideblogs just to post about interests that fade in and out if i keep up this behavior and now i'm gonna explain it in my damn tags

[seijorhi]

Finders Keepers

the long awaited (sorry!) zombie au. hope y’all enjoy

Seijoh 4 x female reader & Miya twins x female reader 

TW Blood, gore, angst, um... toxic relationships?

“Let me see.”

It’s little more than a murmur, but in the quiet stillness of the night your voice carries. It hardly matters; Oikawa has you close, tucked under his arm with his injured leg stretched out between the two of you. He could stop you if he really wanted, but he only watches, those tired, wary eyes fixed on your face as you reach for his pants. 

“It’s fine,” he grunts out, yet he can barely get the words out before he’s hissing through his teeth – a knee jerk reaction to the scrape of rough fabric against his wound. His fingers are digging painfully into your arm, and it doesn’t make a difference how gentle you try to be, how many stammered apologies fall from your lips, your fingers are stiff and clumsy and his pants are caked with dried blood and grime, hindering the process.

Pursing your lips, you glance up. “This would go easier if you took these off, you know.”

He cracks a smile at that, strained and tense, but your chest still flutters at the sight of it. “If you wanna get my pants off so badly, cutie, all you had to do was ask.”

“Tooru,” you begin, but he sighs heavily and that brief flicker of mirth glimmering in his eyes fades. Reaching over he picks up his hunting knife, pressing the handle into your palm and letting his fingers slowly curl around yours. The weight of it feels unwieldy and foreign in your hand, and you can’t quite say for sure if the way your breath picks up and hitches is due to your nerves or the way Oikawa’s watching you, his warm hand still wrapped around yours.

“Cut it, then.”

The knife helps, shearing through his pants like butter, but the wound itself is messy – torn threads plastered to congealed blood and dirt – and blunt fingernails sink into your skin and Oikawa grits out a curse when you try to gently ease them free. 

It’s worse than you’d thought. A lot worse. Raked over his right knee, five gouges, jagged and gruesome, raw flesh and muscle exposed beneath. Your stomach roils at the sight of it, bile creeping up your throat, and for a moment you’re astounded by how calm he is, sitting there beside you. 

If it were you, you’re fairly sure you’d be rolling on the ground howling by now, but the only hint of pain Oikawa’s face betrays is the tightness of his jaw, teeth clenched even as he looses a shuddering breath.

“I-I’ll go see if I can find something to…” to what? Clean the wound? Stitch it? You’re not an idiot, unless this little cottage has an incredibly well stocked first aid kit, you know you’re in trouble. And even if it does, beyond the very basics of clean, disinfect and bandage, you don’t know how the hell you’re supposed to fix this.

Iwaizumi was always the one to stitch up their wounds, muttering obscenities under his breath and glaring at them the whole time. It was their own idiot faults for putting themselves in a position where they could get hurt in the first place, he’d say, they could deal with a little pain while he fixed them up. But as you stare at the grisly mess of Oikawa’s knee, there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this might be beyond even Iwa’s level of expertise. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Iwa isn’t here. 

Makki and Mattsun aren’t either.

And strangely enough, it’s not the fear of the creatures lurking in the woods that’s gnawing at your gut. It’s Oikawa’s injury, the blood and mangled mess that you can’t even begin to fix, the thought of the trap that’s awaiting the others back at the sanctuary. It’s that feeling of helplessness that’s tightening around your neck like a noose.

“Hey,” Oikawa calls, snagging at your wrist when you try to pull away. “They’ll find us, have a little faith.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you nod. “I know.”

You don’t have the guts to tell him that that’s only half the problem.

Making do with vodka and some old bandages you’d scrounged up from a first aid kit under the sink, you do what you can for Tooru’s knee. Working by the light of a few flickering candles, your hands shaking like a leaf, it's a job easier said than done, and you can’t help but wince at every pained hiss and grunt that escapes him. 

It’s a hack job, a bandaid over a gaping wound, but he thanks you for it anyway, pressing an affectionate kiss to your temple as he drags you closer once more. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he murmurs, and the words hang heavy over the both of you; a promise and a sobering reminder in one.

Tucked up in his embrace, you shut your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep. 

Yet the moment you do, you’re right back there again: the hallway doors bursting open and the undead pouring through. Rotting and snarling, the sound of panicked shrieks tearing through the sanctuary in their wake.

Tooru’s hand in yours, yanking you along as he ran. Your heartbeat, pounding in your ears as you gasped for breath, your chest burning. And the fear, the horror that threatened to choke you as the others fell behind, their frantic pleas turning into agonised screams.

Everybody else first. The words spoken before any one of them left the safety of the sanctuary; you’d always assumed it was a grim kind of joke between the boys, a good luck charm. How many times had you heard Mattsun laugh it, clapping Iwa on the shoulder, or Makki for that matter, or Oikawa?

‘Come home safe’, you’d thought it meant, not ‘rip the guns out of other survivors’ hands and throw them back into the path of the oncoming undead’.

And then you’d stumbled, tripping over your own two feet. You remember Oikawa cursing, the pain that radiated up your knees and the palms of your hands as you hit the floor hard, and the absolute, bone chilling terror that surged through you when you looked up and saw one of the undead creatures lunge for you; jaw hanging loose, more ripped flesh and gristle than an actual mouth–

Oikawa was too far away, too slow, and even if he wasn’t, you’d just witnessed the lengths he’d go to for self preservation. You’d screamed for him anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and praying you’d go quickly when those fingers and yellowing teeth dug into your flesh and ripped you apart.

And in the space of a single petrified heartbeat, three shots had rung through the air, a warm wetness splattering against your cheek. Tooru was there, kicking the rotting corpse away from you and hauling you back to your feet, back safely against his side.

But the next one was quicker, leaping over the husk of its fallen friend, snarling and bloody and savage, and then it was Tooru who was screaming, undead fingers sinking into the flesh of his leg, ripping as it tried to claw him back.

Heart pounding viciously, your eyes shoot open in the darkness.

Even with the reassurance of Oikawa’s frame pressed up behind you, his breath warm against your skin, sleep doesn’t come easy, and the dawn brings little reprieve.

Stupidly, you’d hoped – prayed – that somehow through the night he might’ve gotten better. It was early in the morning when you’d felt him start to shiver against you. You’d tried to roll away, to give him space so you wouldn’t accidentally knock his leg, but Tooru was having none of it, burrowing in closer, his grip tightening.

And when you’d felt him start to sweat, his arms becoming sticky and clammy, his shirt dampening at your back, that slow, cloying sense of dread took root inside of your stomach.

Under the first rays of morning light, the true extent of Oikawa’s condition is unignorable. Without the luxury of being able to properly close the wound, blood’s seeped through the bandages overnight, leaving them a mottled, macabre red. His face is pale, a thin sheen of sweat dotting at his brow and with every shallow, rattling breath he takes, his body trembles.

It’s more than just simple blood loss.

You think for a moment that he’s unconscious, long lashes fanned out over flushed cheekbones, but the moment you reach for the bandages, his eyes snap open. “Don’t,” he rasps.

You frown, “Tooru–”

“No,” he says. “It’s fine. Leave it alone.”

Between him and Iwaizumi, and to a certain extent, Makki and Mattsun, you’ve never had much of a say in how things are run. You’ve never questioned that they’re the ones in charge, Oikawa most of all. They’re the ones who’ve kept you safe, kept you alive all this time, and all they’ve ever asked of you is that you do what they say.

And you have. Always. Because without them, you’d be dead. You don’t have to pick up a gun and fight, because they do it for you. You don’t have to go on supply runs because they take care of it, they take care of you. And it’s never mattered whether it’s just been the five of you out there alone, or if you were banding together with other survivors; that’s never changed – no matter how many dirty looks it earned you from the others.

You are their responsibility, but in return, you do what they tell you without question.

But this–

This isn’t like that. This isn’t you begging Iwaizumi to take you with him on perimeter patrol because you’ve been cooped up for what feels like weeks, or pouting because they’re deliberately keeping things from you again. 

And maybe they have kept you in the dark, but you’re not blind and you’re not stupid. The reality of this situation hasn’t escaped you. 

The sanctuary’s overrun, and if – when – Iwa, Makki and Mattsun make it back, they’ll be walking into an ambush. Even if by some miracle they do manage to all make it out unscathed and somehow figure out a way to pick up your trail, there’s no telling how long it’ll take for them to find their way back to you.

(You can’t bear to think about the possibility of them not coming home; you won’t.)

Right now, it’s just you and Oikawa, stuck in some abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a rifle and a baseball bat between you. You have no food, no supplies and he’s getting weaker by the minute.

You’re terrified.

And you don’t have the luxury of sitting back and letting somebody else take care of you anymore. You don’t stand a chance of survival without Oikawa, and right now he doesn’t stand a chance without you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head. “Okay, I won’t touch it, but I’m not just going to sit here and watch you get worse.” Smoothing your palms over your lap, you take a deep breath in through your nose. “There’s a prison–”

“No.”

“Tooru–”

“I said no,” he snaps.

Biting back a sigh, you try again, “Tooru, there might be supplies there,” you plead. “Painkillers, antibiotics, something that might help–”

“I don’t need antibiotics and you’re not leaving. We need to stay here where it’s safe until the others find us,” he grits out, eyes narrowing dangerously. 

Normally, this would be the point that you’d back off, running off to lick your wounds before he decided to get mean, but even as some part of you cowers at the mere thought of upsetting him, this time you don’t back down.

He watches warily as you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, gently smoothing damp brown locks back from his sweat slicked forehead. “I don’t know when Iwa’s coming back,” you murmur. “But until he does, the prison’s our best chance, if I can just–”

“No!” he snarls, cutting you off once again.

His eyes are manic now, blown wide and glazed over, he’s shivering, his breath a faint rattle – but his grip is iron, long fingers clutching at you desperately when you jerk back with a gasp.

“You don’t leave me.”

You don’t want to. 

It’d be easy not to, to sit and stay with him and pretend that your world isn’t falling apart and he isn’t dying. You’ve never been a fighter, always too soft, too weak, too naive to survive out there on your own. The thought of setting one foot outside of that door without him by your side fills you with absolute terror, but what other options do you have?

He might not like it, but you’re out of time – this decision isn’t his to make anymore.

“Tooru, I-I have to, you know–”

“No!” he snaps, dragging you closer. “You’re not leaving me, I won’t fucking let you!”

Your hand trembles when you reach up to take his, easing it from your shirt and bringing it to your lips. Tears spill from your lashes, falling in heavy droplets against the back of his hand as Oikawa makes a pained sound.

“Please don’t go.”

You both know he can’t stop you.

“Keep the gun,” you tell him, mustering up a tight, watery smile. “Anything but Iwa and our boys comes through that door, shoot it.”

—

It seems a cruel, twisted joke that you find a perfectly good truck sitting a little ways up the driveway, just begging to be used – with no way of getting it started.

Mattsun always made hot wiring look so easy, tossing you a wink when the engine rumbled to life, as if it was a neat little party trick he’d pulled out just to impress you. He did it so quickly, so smoothly, ripping the wires out and sparking them like it was second nature, but he’d never bothered to actually explain what he was doing to you.

And why would he? Between the four of them, there’d always be somebody else to take care of it for you. It’s the same reason they never taught you how to shoot, never taught you how to fight beyond the very basics of self defence.

Now, trudging along the side of the barren road with nothing but your baseball bat and a canteen of water slung over your hip, you find yourself wishing you’d paid a little more attention. Ten miles hadn’t seemed that far on paper – it was less than the trek back into town and you’d figured a safer bet, but walking around in broad daylight without any kind of real protection feels like you’re begging to be preyed upon. Yet by some stroke of luck (and despite that persistent nagging sense that you’re being watched) you manage to make it to the perimeter gates without coming across another soul, dead or alive.

The towering brick walls topped with spirals of barbed wire that line the prison complex are as imposing as they are unbreachable, and for a moment, standing there staring up at them, you feel a crushing sense of disappointment. You’ve walked over two hours, left Tooru in pain and alone for nothing. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to scale those walls, and without any kind of bolt cutters or firepower, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get past the front gates. 

Iwa would’ve known that. Iwa would’ve been better prepared. 

But as you draw closer to the guardhouse, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not a problem. The heavy wrought iron gate’s already unlocked and open, creaking in the breeze. And really, that should have been the first warning sign, but you’re too busy thanking your lucky stars as you slide on through to pay attention to things like that.

The courtyard is just as deserted. The crunch of gravel underfoot echoes too loud, setting your nerves on edge as you make your way towards the imposing structure. It’s quiet, eerily so – even the birds seem to have disappeared. Is this how all raids feel, you wonder as you climb the steps towards the door. This sense of foreboding dread that settles in your stomach, the goosebumps that prickle down your arms? 

Your grip tightens around the handle of your bat and you press gingerly against the door – just like the guardhouse gate, it gives under your touch, swinging open wide. It’s dark inside; you hadn’t thought to bring a torch and with the absence of any windows lining the corridor it’s near pitch black. Your heart hammers inside your chest, every cell in your body screaming at you to turn around and run back to Tooru, but you’ve come this far already. 

The undead flock to fresh, living meat. It’s been months since the outbreak began; anyone unfortunate enough to have found themselves trapped inside when it happened is probably long dead, and any of the undead likely long gone.

It’s just a little darkness. 

Steeling your nerves you creep through the black, clutching tightly at your bat, toeing your way down the corridor waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dim. Every breath you draw in feels too loud, every step too obnoxious. Deserted or not, the sooner you can find the med-bay, get what you need for Oikawa and get out, the better.

The layout’s simple enough – five looming multi-storied wings breaking off like fingers from the central watch-tower, but you don’t have a clue which one holds what you’re seeking. Your only option is to search them one by one and hope for the best. 

You’d expected steel bars and heavy locks, but the prison reminds you strangely of a school instead; long hallways lined with doors, each with a tiny window to peek through. They’re all open now of course, whatever locking mechanism keeping them shut having failed when the generators ran out. The first few are empty, barren and stripped of everything but soiled mattresses – it should be a relief. 

There’s nothing waiting for you in the darkness but empty halls and emptier rooms. If the others were here, they’d be teasing you for sure. Or Makki and Mattsun would, at least. You always were such a scared little baby – their scared little baby – you’d jump at your own shadow if you didn’t have them around. 

And it’s easier to keep going imagining them there by your side, the jokes they’d crack, the warmth of Iwa’s hand in yours, or Makki’s arm slung over your shoulder. You’d feel safe with them. You wouldn’t need to feel afraid.

But no amount of pretend comfort is enough to allay the heavy sense of dread that’s sitting in your stomach, growing harder and harder to ignore with every passing minute. And the problem, you realise, with the prison being so deadly quiet is that every noise, no matter how quiet, echoes.

Climbing the stairs in the dark, you don’t notice the slickness on the walls either side of you, the red handprints smeared messily over white paint. You don’t see the broken, bloody fingernails littering the steps beneath you. 

You hear it though, when you reach the landing. It’s soft. A quiet, wet squelching, ripping–

There’s no screams accompanying it like there were back when the sanctuary was overrun, but it’s not a sound you’re gonna be able to forget any time soon. In the dark you freeze, not daring to so much as breathe as you peer down the endless corridor, trying to pinpoint which of the cells it’s coming from. 

In the end, you decide that it doesn’t matter. 

They’re quicker when they’ve fed, stronger too, and there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to be able to fumble past in the dark without drawing that thing’s attention. The wooden bat in your hands feels heavy, your palms already slick with sweat. You weren’t quick enough back at the sanctuary; without Tooru, that thing would’ve eaten you. And suddenly it seems laughable that you came out here, that you genuinely thought you could handle this – fight one of them off if it came down to it.

Tooru needs those meds, you know that, and you might be useless and weak and absolutely paralysed with fear, but you’re not stupid. You can’t help him at all if you’re torn apart by one of those creatures.

Your pulse racing, a potent mix of adrenaline and sheer, unrelenting terror coursing through your veins, you draw in a quiet breath, slowly lifting your foot to back away. It hasn’t heard you yet, and so long as it’s distracted–

“Oi, hurry up! I know what I saw, she came in this way.”

“Jesus, just shut up for a sec, wouldja! Ya don’t need to keep yellin’ at me, I’m comin’!”

Through the grate at your feet, you see two beams of light break through the darkness, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps echoing down the wing. Icy claws tighten like a vice around your heart and you still once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen, praying…

The squelching’s stopped.

Grip tight around the handle of your bat, your entire body quaking with fear, you watch with wide, stricken eyes as one of the doors halfway down the block slowly creaks outwards. 

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing, and you try and convince yourself it’s just the wind, that you’re imagining things and your mind is playing mean tricks on you–

A feral snarl rips through the air, and before you can so much as scream it’s crashing through the open doorway, head swivelling as it searches for the source of the disturbance. In the dark you can’t make out much, only that it’s huge, half its flesh torn and decaying, smeared with blood and filth – but you see it when those white, cloudy eyes fix on you, its rotting mouth bared and salivating.

And this time you do scream. You scream for Oikawa, for Iwa, for Makki and Mattsun and the faceless strangers on the floor below as you cast your bat aside and run. You don’t dare look over your shoulder as you take the stairs two, three at a time, slipping and slamming into the stairwell wall, a sharp burst of pain radiating down your shoulder – you can hear it giving chase, the rabid growls and snarls too close for comfort.

Tears flood your eyes, your chest heaving with every desperate breath as your feet hit solid ground once more and you take off.

“Please!” you sob as you run, blinded by the brightness of the torch beam as it’s shone in your direction. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

You can’t outrun it forever. Even now, you hear it gaining on you, its hot, foul breath puffing against your back – it’s just like back at the sanctuary. It’s gonna catch you, rip into you and feast while you choke to death on your own blood and screams, and this time you won’t have Oikawa here to save you. You’re going to die in agony, torn apart and devoured, and it’s all your own stupid fault.

Your throat tightens, more tears springing free. You can’t see anything beyond those two blinding lights, moving now, dancing across the field of your vision. “PLEASE!” you shriek, desperate and hoarse as the undead creature behind you readies itself to pounce.

Please don’t leave me here to die.

And for one heart wrenching second, you think back to your boys, and the words they’d said before kissing you goodbye. Everybody else first. Maybe this is some kind of divine retribution, you think. Maybe when the world went to hell people became cold and selfish and you deserve this for sitting back and letting others die in your place.

“Get down!” the voice yells, and you don’t even stop to think before you drop, sliding across the floor. There’s another blinding flash, a shot fired into the dark and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hug your knees to your chest as the creature snarls in anger and jerks backwards, a gruesome spurt of blood spraying over you.

“Ya fucking missed! How could ya fucking miss?!”

The gun cocks and reloads, another deafening shot ringing out above you and you flinch, your nails biting into the soft skin of your palm–

But this time the bullet hits its mark. The creature crashes to the floor with a loud thump and doesn’t move again. 

You don’t waste a second scrambling to your feet, launching yourself into the arms of your saviour. You don’t care that you’re crying, that you’re covered in blood and filth and god knows what else, you cling to him like he’s a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder. And instead of pushing you away like he probably should, he lets out a short huff that sounds almost like a laugh, his arm curling around your waist.

“I’m the one who shot the damn thing,” the other mutters sourly.

The man holding you snorts, “Nah, yer the idiot who missed.” Belatedly, you realise that he’s still gripping his gun, the brightness you’d assumed to have come from a torch actually from a light mounted to the barrel. He slings the rifle carelessly over his shoulder, drawing back slightly to appraise you. “Now, wanna tell me what a sweet thing like you’s doin’ all alone in a place like this?”

With your eyes now adjusting to the light, you can see that the two of them can’t be much older than you. They’re both tall, broad shouldered and handsome, the same jawline, the same slope to their nose, nearly identical hooded eyes – brothers you decide, maybe even twins. And they’re both smirking at you, not with the relief of just barely escaping a brush with a particularly gruesome death, but with an odd sort of lackadaisical amusement, as if this – skulking through dark, abandoned places, killing the undead – is nothing out of the ordinary for them. 

And from the ease with which they carry their weapons, maybe it isn’t.

Oikawa warned you about men like them. Men in general, really. Even the ones who smiled at you back at the sanctuary, the ones who offered to help you move heavy supplies when they saw you struggling – at least, until Iwa or one of the others stepped in with a poisonous glare. Anyone who wasn’t them was dangerous, a threat, just waiting in the wings to take advantage of a pretty, dumb little thing like you.

And maybe he’s right, but when the one holding you instead drags you closer, wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins to lead you back towards the guard tower as his brother falls into step on your other side, you don’t shrug him off. 

Oikawa isn’t here, and they have just saved your life. That has to count for something, right?

“I-I thought it’d be safe,” you confess breathlessly, trying not to focus on the thumb sweeping over the curve of your shoulder. “Well, empty at least. I didn’t have a choice.” And they listen, sharing glances in the dark as you tell them about what’d happened at the sanctuary, about Oikawa and the desperation that’d led you to leave him and walk miles alone to try and find some kind of medicine–

Until a snicker interrupts you. “Sorry,” the blonde mutters, though he doesn’t look all that sincere when your eyes flash to his. “It’s just…”

“Anythin’ worth taking woulda been snatched up months ago,” the darker haired one interjects.

“There ain’t nothin’ here but the occasional idiot tryna set up camp an’… Well, ya saw how well that turned out.”

It hits you like a gut punch, forcing the air from your lungs in a harsh, gasping breath. There was never anything here, everything… all of it was a waste. You came all this way, left him feverish and screaming himself hoarse for you, risked your life, almost died and–

It was all for nothing.

Fresh tears sting at your eyes, they’re still talking but it’s just white noise washing over you. You don’t even realise they’re leading you back outside until you’re walking through the doors, the sudden burst of sunlight making you flinch. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

You’re an idiot.

A naive, dumb little girl who was stupid enough to think this half cocked plan was gonna work. That you would make it back to Tooru in one piece, medicine in hand to save the day and prove you weren’t the helpless damsel they’d pegged you for. 

You’ve wasted so much time, for nothing. 

There’s no drugs, no food, nothing that’s gonna help either one of you make it through the next few days and suddenly you’re drowning under a wave of hopelessness and bitter disappointment. You fall to your knees in the dirt, taking both your saviours by surprise, and let out a painful, heart wrenching sob. And once you start, you can’t seem to stop. It’s overwhelming, every emotion you’ve bottled up and shoved aside over the last two days suddenly forced into the light. You cry for yourself, for Tooru – for Iwa and Makki and Mattsun. You cry until it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, and then there’s rough calloused fingers brushing your tears away.

You look up through wet lashes to find the dark-haired man crouching before you, his expression sober. “Ya don’t need to cry, sweetheart, we’re not monsters y’know.”

His brother chuckles behind you, “We’re not about to leave some pretty little thing all alone out here to starve to death.” His hand’s resting atop your head now, smoothing down the hair at your crown. It’s soft and soothing, and you’re so attuned to seeking comfort that you can’t help but lean into it, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “We’ve got some friends nearby, a nice little hideaway stocked full of all kinds of shit. Everything ya could possibly need.”

“Y-you mean it?” you ask, wide eyes flickering to the dark haired one, who smiles at last. “You’ll share them with me?”

“‘Course we do. Meds, food, weapons. Whatever ya want, it’s yours.”

You take the hand he offers to help you stand, your limbs trembling once more – but this time it’s not from fear or exhaustion, but the overwhelming rush of sheer relief. You could kiss him, kiss them both, but you don’t.

Instead you settle for throwing your arms around them once more, breathless thanks falling from your lips faster than they can catch as you hug them tight. They don’t seem to mind though, sharing almost identical smirks as the three of you head out to an old, beat up camaro parked out by the entrance to the prison. While the blonde slides in the driver’s seat and his brother takes the passenger’s side, you climb up into the back seat. 

“Is it far?” you ask as he kicks the car into gear and peels out onto the deserted road. Hopefully it’s not, the sooner you can get back to help Tooru the better. 

“Nah, not too far. We’ll be home before ya know it.”

Of course, they’re driving you to their friends, but they haven’t promised anything about driving you back to the cottage and Oikawa–

Which is perfectly fine! You’re not going to push your luck, they’re already doing plenty for you. More than they really have to. You don’t even need that much – just some medicine for Tooru and enough food for the two of you to get through the next few days, and you’ll be fine. Whatever you can carry, which, admittedly isn’t much. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it back to him before nightfall.

Things are gonna be fine. You’ll bring the medicine and once he’s better, the two you can head out to find the others. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’ll be better when you’re all back together, the way things were meant to be. 

You need them, if anything this little venture’s proven that much at least. 

They’d promised that it wasn’t far, and maybe it’s just the exhaustion of the last few days creeping in, or the gentle hum of the engine as the car drives along the long, narrow stretch of road, but your eyelids start to droop, your breath evening out as sleep beckons.

And you’re just dancing on the edge of consciousness when a hushed voice breaks through the comfortable silence, dark eyes flickering up to watch your slumbering form in the rearview mirror. “Ya think Kita’ll be pissed?”

There’s a snort, “Nah. He’s always had a soft spot for strays, ‘specially the pretty ones.” He’s quiet for a moment, almost contemplative before he opens his mouth to add, “‘Sides, we’re gonna take real good care of her, ain’t we, Samu?”

The only reply he gives is a soft grunt of acknowledgement. 

[bonny-kookoo]

Remedy | JJK x Reader | 💜☁️🔞🤖

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Android!AU, Android!Jungkook, AI!Jungkook

Warnings: mentions of war, PTSD, Panic attack, confused!Koo, soft reader, like my god I just wanna put her in my pocket and keep her safe, aka that’s what Koo wants to do, protective!Koo, praise kink, unprotected sex but izz fine Kookoo can’t knock her up anyways, soft sex, it’s very soft ngl, there’s a bird, some sad Koo, kook cries here and there, comfort and rehabilitation

Summary: JJK, Or J-Jungkook097 was a tactical fighter-type Android, used in modern war as a simple weapon and nothing more. Now retired after serious injuries, he has to adjust to modern life outside the war zone or he’ll get scrapped; and that’s where you come in, a rare human being ready to take on that challenge.

"Ah, what a waste, really." A worker says, looking the body of the Android over. "You sure you don't want him?" He asks, and the older worker shakes his head.

"I can't let him around my kids by himself, and I don't want him to snap around my wife either. He's not suited for my home and family." He says, looking the male robot over, before he pulls out his phone. "I think I know someone who just might take him." He says, hurriedly texting, before he gets a call back.

"Huh. Is he factory reset, or still running?" You ask, as Seokjin connects cords to the back of the android's neck.

"We tried to have him reset himself, but there's been problems." He explains. "He told us he did already, but that can't be true since he'd need a command to do it- his model isn't equipped with those AI options. Maybe his memory overloaded and deleted stuff as a survival protocol, we don't know. He's a military model, after all, they didn't let us see his original save data- they just downloaded it and went their way, leaving him for us to dismantle if he couldn't reset him properly for a new system." He says, as you type in some stuff, before viewing the screen you hold in your hand.

"So he's technically still running on his original warzone-system?" You ask Jin, and he nods, sighing. You furrow your brows, and the older male looks over at your tablet to see what you're looking at. "Are you sure? This is.. his AI settings are all set to.. look at this; companionable, friendly, all his settings are set to a companion-android, not a fighter type." You mumble, confused by this.

"Wait no no no that wasn't like that when I last looked at him." Jin says, taking the tablet from you as he types in some stuff. "Huh. This is weird." He says, showing you something. "Look at the protocol."

You do. "Huh." You say, looking at the last line of code.

Last change made by: JJK_OSADMIN

"He changed his own system." You say, and Jin is standing up now.

"I'm taking him with me, I can't let him-" He starts, but you do as well, placing your hands ontop of the Androids chest as if you're guarding him.

"NO! I already signed, I own him- Jin, I have to look into this- and he's set to friendly, he won't get hostile that easily." You try to reassure him, and he sighs after a while, taking his jacket from the chair close by.

"Keep me updated." He says, as he leaves you be.

The Android still sitting limply on your chair.

"Alright JJK. Time to wake up." You say, closing the small panel before you sit in front of him, waiting for his system to run the commands you had typed in before unplugging him. It takes a moment, but there's movement after that; his body slowly starting to sit properly, muscles moving into place, and system running it's diagnostics to detect any change in hard- or software made. It marks down his eyes, the small patches of skin re-made, and that his body-liquids had been replaced.

He feels good.

His eyes open slowly, iris moving and focusing in Various degrees before they meet your form. "Hello." He simply says. "Are you my new owner?" He asks, and you nod, expecting that question. He's not been factory reset, which means even though his memory was scattered, and his system had been changed, he was still aware of everything vital. He nods, before he looks around. "I'm now supposed to run on the companion protocol, correct?" He asks, and you shrug. He's confused, as you suddenly smile at him.

"I don't know." You tell him. "Companion, Individual- what would you like?" You ask, knowing it will bring his current system to it's limits. He's not made to make decisions like that, and you think it's quite endearing to see him suddenly think like that.

"I.. choose?" He mumbles, before he looks at you seriously. "I'd like to be given a small time frame to properly research before I come to a conclusion." He says, and your eyes widen.

You look at him, still friendly as ever. "So, you want to figure out what you want first?" You ask, and he nods, a bit hesitantly. "Okay. Just tell me when you've made up your mind then." You say, and he nods.

"What are my daily tasks?" He asks, and you shrug again. "This is frustrating." He says, and you laugh at that.

It's weird to hear it. But he notes it down as a positive response from you.

"Just don't burn the house down while trying to cook or something." You joke, and he seems to take it seriously.

"Why would I set your home aflame while attempting to cook? I'm not even capable of either task.." He says, and you get up, grinning.

"Don't worry so much. Just properly charge for now- we'll see what's gonna happen as it happens." You say.

He nods.

Jungkook knows that around 75% of fatal accidents occur in a mere household. He also knows, that a regular home is the safest place to live. Yet there he was, on the floor, holding his ears as an attempt to block out the sound of his nightmares. "Jungkook?" You ask, as you turn off the microwave. He's still shaking as you sit down in front of him, close- but not touching, unknowing if he would react to that negatively or not. "Can you hear me?" You ask, and he hesitantly retracts his hands from his ears, letting the sound in again. The beeping of the microwave is now gone, only the soft ticking of your clock on the wall and the buzzing of your fridge remain. "I'm sorry that scared you." You say, smiling apologetically as he shakes his head, face serious. His eyes move frantically as they glow an orange hue, showing his system status.

"No, I should apologize." He says. "I don't know why I displayed this reaction to a mere household object." He admits, and you open the microwave to take out your meal, before sitting down on the kitchen floor. "You shouldn't do that- the tiles are very cold-" He starts, but you wave him off.

"Its fine. Both." You say. "You're probably still confusing some sounds and things with your past use as a warzone model. So it's normal- your system has to adapt. You have to adapt." You say. "We all need some time to heal after what you've been through." You say.

He sits quietly after those words, watching you as he goes through his research on you. You're a very unusual individual, displaying a lot of behaviors he hasn't seen before. You take care of everything with a sense of care that makes him come to the conclusion that you're probably treating the machines and robots like living beings. Such as the oldschool robot-dog that he's seen under your living room table. It's currently charging, but he's seen you interact with it- genuinely displaying happiness and excitement at the very basic AI of the pet-robot that's missing a leg.

Its broken, just like him. But you're taking care of it, just like you take care of him.

You're very caring with him, too. He's seen you search for skin patches that match his color almost perfectly, even though they were more expensive than the usual models found in stores. You apologize for 'hurting' him, even though it's sometimes nescessary to repair him. You ask him about opinions, and let him roam around freely around the house.

You're a very friendly person.

And he, unknown to you, starts to create new files inside his system.

You're not there when he wakes up the next day.

He scans the house for any movement, but there is none that would lead him to the conclusion that you're there. There's no sign of you, and he becomes frantic, suddenly.

If his system would've worked properly like it should have, he would've remembered that you had told him yesterday that you would make a small trip to the local grocery store around the corner. But his system isn't working properly, already displaying several scenarios of you getting hurt, or vanishing, or leaving him alone.

He’d seen it before, so many times, hell; he’d been the reason of so many deaths in the first place and it never bothered him. So why was his internal system going absolute haywire at the mere idea of something happening to you? It was to be expected really- with how fragile you are, mentally and physically, it was bound to happen at some point. So why, if he knew it deep down already, did it make his pulse race and his skin feel weird?

You’d told him to stay home, but there was no way he’d be able to let you out of his sight. Because no, there were no emotions involved; they’d been restricted for him at the beginning after all, he was simply looking out for you. Probably a bug, maybe his system thought you were someone to be protected, a new mission to keep him occupied, that was probably it. It wasn’t because you had been so sweet with him, it wasn’t because of how gently you were in correcting him whenever he did something bad, it wasn’t because you were an absolute divine being in his eyes.

“Kook?” You said, an almost painful huff of breath escaping you when he crashed into you, holding you, his arms squeezing you a bit and his face burying itself into the crook of your neck, every sense drinking you in, saving the proof that you were okay, you were real, you were completely fine. “I-“ you started, and his eyes ripped open, suddenly realizing that he may be hurting you. As if burned he reacted, hands hovering over your shoulders as he looked you over.

“I apologize, I’m so sorry, does it hurt bad-“ he spoke hurriedly, eyes already glazing over with tears he didn’t even knew he could shed. Why did he suddenly feel so upset? His entire system was overloading, tears finally flowing and disrupting his sight so badly that he didn’t see your face anymore; sending him into panic even more. “I’m sorry- I’m-“ he pressed out, but there was nothing working anymore it seemed.

Only a few minutes later did he slowly come back to his senses, first thing he noticed being the way you held his body close, softly speaking to him while you were petting his head. It was such a weird sensation, yet it somehow soothed his mind back, as he realized that you were both on the ground. He was way too heavy, why were you doing that? But when he tried to get up, you held him tightly. “Take a Moment, Jungkook. You’re okay, I’m okay, just a breathe, yeah?” You said, and he nodded. “Let’s go back inside then yeah?” You softly said, and he nodded.

“But you need to buy groceries. We don’t have sufficient stock of-“ he started, but you giggled, the sound something he knew he liked. He didn’t quite know what to think of his newly found preferences for things, but he simply let it happen for now.

Because liking you could never be a mistake, he decided.

He calls out for you one day, his hands holding something you can't see yet. His eyes are wide open, his optics moving around frantically as he calls again. "Creator, please!" He calls, as you finally spot him, walking over as he looks at you with a worried expression. "Please- I don't know what to do. She flew against our window and probably has a concussion- you can help her, right?" He says, and you don't get curious as to why he immediately knows the birds gender and diagnosis; he can scan the tiny body, after all.

"Ah, come into the kitchen." You say, and he follows quickly, still delicately holding the tiny body in his palm, careful not to drop it. "Lets put her in a box and a nice quiet place, yeah? She'll recover on her own probably." You reassure him as he watches you place her in an old box without a lid. "Put her where you found her, okay? That way she'll know her way back easier." You tell him, and he nods, determined, as he walks back towards where he had found the bird.

Jungkook, in a way, was slowly changing nowadays.

He was a curious being, always eager to learn about the most mundane things. True to his purpose he picked up on things very easily; learning how to draw and paint very quickly. He had recently gotten interested in a video game you used to play before your work took over your time- and you loved seeing him have genuine fun with it.

He wasn't doing things anymore because they were asked of him. Or because they were an order.

He was developing hobbies, you'd noticed.

Of course you kept Jin updated about all of these things, and he had been happy to learn that his reboot was going well- joking around that he was glad he hadn't killed you in your sleep yet. And while, at first, you were quite wary of him walking around the apartment, nowadays, you couldn't imagine Jungkook even hurting a fly.

Just like with that tiny bird.

He was a gentle soul, simply a bit clumsy sometimes- apologizing over and over after breaking your alarm clock once, the alarm setting off another one of his 'episodes'- moments of flashbacks he got from his past purpose in war. You had reassured him and had let him watch as you fixed it again, praising him along when he gave you the right tools.

Praise. That was something he seeked as well.

And it wasn't just that he wanted aknowledgement of his own achievements. It was more your attention that he wanted. He wanted to be around you whenever possible, even sometimes dancing around the topic of maybe sharing a bed one day- but he had also been wary of hurting you in your sleep, by rolling over or something alike.

Always so thoughtful.

But he would be able to hold you that day; when you had complained about being tired, he had suggested a nap to you. Instantly taking on that chance, you laid down, rolling over as he was still on the couch with you, already having laid down prior. He was unsure at first where to put his hands, until he decided to just go for the common human way of affection; holding you close.

And he made a note inside his system, that he truly deeply enjoyed the feeling.

He finds you on the couch, crying, after an argument on the phone. That in itself isn't the issue he's having, however- it's the sudden wave of protectiveness rolling over him, drowning his senses as he walks over to you, his orange glowing eyes now scanning your form. "What did he do?" He asks, knowing that it was a former partner of yours, constantly calling you asking for money. It's a bad habit of yours that you can't seem to say no; and now that you did for once, he had bitten your ear off with bad remarks and names you'd rather not repeat. "I'll hurt him, just say the word. He needs to feel the same pain you do-" He's shaking a little, you can see it now; his hands unsure where to place themselves, his eyes watching over you, his breathing a little faster. He starts again, and you put a hand on his shoulder to stop his words.

“Jungkook no, he didn’t hurt me in like, a physical way.” You tried to explain, tears now forgotten as you try to calm the Android on your couch down- still absolutely terrified by your state. “I’m gonna be fine.” You say, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Or is it something else?

“But why am I hurting?” He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. Well, why was he? Technically he was capable of understanding emotions, that wasn’t shocking. What was confusing to you however was just how he was able to share your pain. And it was obvious he did; the way his eyes glistened and his body shivered, overwhelmed by whatever was happening. “Why does it hurt to see you hurt?” He almost whispers, lost with the situation.

Jungkook was indeed a very weird android- you’ve noticed that long ago already. He was emotional, sometimes moody, and slowly began to develop an actual personality the more he was living with you.

Something his model shouldn’t be capable of.

And maybe that should scare you- maybe that should worry you, maybe you should call up support for answers, but you don’t. You do what’s best for yourself and what you think is best for him in that moment; you lean forward, and wrap your arms around him. And it doesn’t feel at all like an android you’re hugging in that moment, because an android wouldn’t cry with you. An android wouldn’t hold you like this, wouldn’t tremble in your hold like this. It makes it easy to forget that Jungkook isn’t human.

And that in itself is absolutely dangerous.

Somehow, his system had bypassed the blockade to his emotional capacities.

He had noticed it ever since you had been out to restock groceries by yourself, but he had been a little unsure back then. He now knows, for sure, that something had happened.

It was confusing, to say the least.

So many things were somehow suddenly starting to fall into place for him; his favoritism to being close to you, or his system failing whenever you weren't nearby. It also makes sense that he's standing right in front of your bedroom door that night, knocking as you open it. He feels a weird sense of protectiveness seeing you tired and vulnerable like that, and he sits down on the side of the bed where you join him. "Is everything okay?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

Nothing is okay, everything is confusing, and he's unsure what to quite think of all of this. "I feel.. confused. Scared. There's.. fear, in me, boiling up and interrupting my thoughts." He explains, and you nod.

"Feeling is scary, huh?" You ask, as he looks at you.

"How do you do it?" He asks, and you lean your head a bit to the side in question. "There's.. so much of it. How do you.. separate it, keep it in order? Its all over the place, and it's.. so distracting. Its so overwhelming- I can't seem to calm down." He mumbles, serious face turning frustrated as his fingers play with the fabric of his pants.

"We don't." You say. He looks at you for a moment, before you continue. "We just.. let it run through us, I guess. If you don't, it'll make you sick after a while. " You say, and he looks at you.

"But.." He starts. "I fear I might start to display reactions a male android model isn't supposed to openly display." He almost whispers.

"You don't have to openly do it." You reassure him, placing a hand on his shoulder, before moving a bit, body facing him as you open your arms. "It's just me; and I won't judge. You can be whoever you want with me, Jungkook." You say, and he lays down next to you in your arms, momentarily enjoying the quietness and closeness of the affectionate gesture.

"There are no bad feelings, Jungkook." You tell him, and he listens, as he lets them run through him, just like you told him. The sadness, the comfort of your body against his, the.. adoration he feels towards you. Everything, even though it hurts him, physically, something he only ever thought was a artistic way of describing emotions. "There are only wrong actions." You say. "If you feel the need to cry, cry. If you're angry, scream, shout, or find something to channel that into. But if you bottle it up-" You say, "they will lead to mistakes. They will bring pain, and they will bring remorse."

His voice is strained as he talks. "But how do I know when to act on them, and when not to?" He says, and you chuckle.

"You'll learn, Jungkook." You reassure him. "You'll learn."

And he nods against your shoulder, before you can feel him shake a little less, quiet sobs racking through his body until his exhausted body falls asleep to charge.

"Remarkable." Jin comments, as he watches the lines and lines of codes. "He has started to self-code his own system. He's quite literally learning." He says. "All by himself. This is amazing." He says, before he disconnects Jungkook.

"He's still a bit jumpy sometimes, and the microwave is still his worst enemy-" You say, as Jungkook reboots again, eyes slowly focusing as they start to glow again. "But he really is amazing." You say, and Jungkook beams at that, proudly smiling.

It's rare for an android to display such emotions, and he's still often very much void of any clear visual feedback in terms of facial expressions- but he's learning, and he's evolving, growing, in a way. Seokjin closes the panel on the back of Jungkooks neck, as the android stands up to walk closer to you. "Jungkook." Jin says, and the android turns towards the young man. "Do you look after her well?" He asks, and Jungkook nods. "Make sure she stays hydrated during the day, yeah? I highly doubt she's told you she struggles with that." He says, and you whine, as Jungkooks head whips around, eyes scanning your body as he furrows his brows.

"Creator, you need to drink at least 2.5 Liters of water per day. It's vital for your health, which is already very delicate." He says, and you glare at Jin for telling him anything about that.

"I'm fine- and also, please don't call me creator. I'm not anything like that." You say, picking up the walking puppy-robot as Jungkook nods.

"What should I call you then?" He asks, and Jin perks up.

"Call her baby!"

"Jin NO-!"

"No matter what she tells you-" Jin says, holding Jungkooks shoulders as he looks at him seriously. "She likes it." He says, and Jungkook, serious as ever, nods, noting it down, as you groan.

"I hate you both!" You say, and Jungkooks eyes widen.

"You.." He says, voice almost not heard over the laugh of Jin. "Hate me?" He asks, and you immediately regret your words. Jungkook still hasn't figured out sarcasm yet- the entire concept still a little too complicated for his system to grasp, so you walk closer to him, holding his cheeks in your hands.

"No no no, I don't, I could never-" You promise him, as he nods with already glossy eyes. "I just said it as a joke, okay?" You say, and he nods again, biting his lip a little before Jin clears his throat.

"I'll head off now." He says, already putting on his coat. "Thank you for letting me see him- it's really amazing to see him grow like that." He says, and you nod, giving him a short hug before he leaves.

And for some reason, Jungkook feels jealous, watching you so close to him.

Jungkook is in love with you.

He's come to that conclusion all by himself, and he's proud of it, but he's also very unsure about it. He has done a lot of research, scanned every source he could find and validate; and he has found a new interest in activities humans do in relationships to show their partner love and affection. He's not stupid, he knows what intimacy is, and is also aware that he's capable of doing these things with you; but he's also a little unsure, if you'd want that.

After all, there's nothing he could give you.

So one night, he stands in front of your door again, knocking, as you open it.

"Do you think.." He starts. "I'm capable of love?" He asks, and you look at him. "Because I think.. no, I am very sure I love you." He admits, and you get up, but there's no stopping him. "I don't know what it's like for you, but I have observed my newfound emotions, and there's a pattern I've detected; whenever I'm with you, around you, whenever you give me attention, or when you touch me, theres always the same emotions involved; there's this need to take care of you, to keep you safe, to be close." He rambles, and you listen to him as he talks, walking closer to you as his hands find your shoulders. "There's this.. urge, to partake in human intimacy with you. I want to.. show affection the common way, like kissing you, or holding you, things like that." Your cheeks grow a little red. "But I don't know if you are experiencing the same things. My research shows that.. that we could only do these things, if it's the same for you." He says, and then, almost as if hes whispering. "Is it?" He asks, and you struggle to answer. "Do you.. feel the same.?" He asks again, waiting for you to say anything at all.

You stay silent.

Its a sunday when a letter arrives at your home.

When you open it, there's several papers inside; Jungkooks personality tests, official papers that make it possible for him to leave on his own. When he reads them, he's serious, as he watches you smile at him.

"Jungkook, this is great, isn't it?" You say, trying hard to not let it show that you dread letting go of him. "You can finally get an apartment- maybe make something out of your talents, and earn a living. You're free to go now." You say, biting the inside of your cheek as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"But.." He starts, softly. "I'm yours." He states, and you shake your head, swallowing hard.

"Jungkook no.. you're you. No one owns you anymore." You say, and he suddenly shakes his head, throwing the papers in the kitchen sink as he walks towards you, his hands on your shoulders.

He looks at you, serious, as his optics focus on you. "You were the one who told me that every machine should be treated with respect." He states, as you look away from him, his hands shaking you a little as he tries to get your attention back on him. "You said even we androids have souls." He says.

"I did, but-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"And if we do, if we really do-" He speaks, his hands now holding your head, his face drenched in desperation. "Than it belongs to you." He states, and your eyes widen. "It's yours." He repeats. "If having it for myself means I have to leave you, I don't want it."

"I don't.. want to take advantage of you, Jungkook." You say. "You're.. everything is still new to you, I don't want you to regret this-" You start, and he leans down.

"I won't. I've run every possible scan I could, calculated every possible outcome, you know I can't lie to you. I could never regret this.." He says, as he leans down a little. "Can I..?" He asks, and you smile, jumping over your own shadow in a way, as you give him a nod. "I.. can you.. say it?" He asks. "Just once?"

You take his hands in yours, as you lean closer. "I love you, Jungkook." You say, and he gasps, his systems going absolute haywire in the best ways possible. He's again filled with emotions, but this time, they don't hurt; they make him feel light, as if he weighs nothing, they make him close his eyes because suddenly even the slightest light is too bright for his optics.

"Again." He asks, and you comply.

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you."

He sighs, as his lips finally meet yours.

There's no magical fireworks or anything like that- but Jungkook decides that he doesn't need these things. The feeling itself, the emotions flooding his body are enough to outshine any beauty of reality itself. There's nothing he could ever compare to this, he decides.

He's unsure if Androids have instincts, but in that moment, for the first time, he doesn't care. This seems to be one of those situations to let his emotions run through him, lead him, show him what to do, he decides. His hands roam over your skin, ears catching every sound you make as he moves on autopilot it seems. He's letting go, he's finally doing something he really wants.

And it's all thanks to you- you've given him the chance to be himself.

You've given him the gift of feeling loved, as he finally comes as close to you as lovers ever could; entering you carefully, senses on high alert as he feels your walls around his length. He had been unsure of why pleasure seemed to be described as fun and intimate, but now he can relate to these claims fully. He's so full of love, so overwhelmed, that he simply rests his forehead on your naked shoulder, eyes closed as he simply lets himself feel. He doesn't care about his whines and groans, only focusing on you and your body, on the feedback every muscle sends to his systems, enjoying the way you make him feel.

Its truly magical, he notices.

He doesn't even notice his nor your orgasm at all, but it doesn't matter.

Because at the end of the night, he finally holds you close. Not like before, but this time, as lovers.

"I've given her exactly 0.26 milliliters of a 1 to 1 water and fruit sugar mixture every day at appropriate times." Jungkook seriously tells the vet, as he looks at the bird on the metal table.

"I see. Good job." He praises, before looking at you. "A warzone-type?" He asks, and you nod. "Barely noticable. I have one too, that's how I knew." He comments, before he turns to Jungkook again. "I'd say the bird simply likes your company, Jungkook. She just want's to stay with you That's why she comes back." He explains.

"Like me and Baby?" He asks, and you giggle at the nickname Jungkook keeps using.

"Yes, like you and her." Namjoon says, utterly entertained by you and Jungkook. "So I'd say let her be around. She's perfectly healthy, otherwise." He says, and Jungkook turns around, box in hand, as he smiles.

It's quiet that evening, sun slowly setting and drenching the walls of your shared apartment in a golden glow. Jungkook watches your sleeping form, leaned against him on the couch, as he simply remembers all of the things he's experienced because of you.

He truly is a machine capable of love.

Because you taught him how.

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Nine)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, vaginal fingering, masturbation, cum eating, choking.

Notes: Sorry it’s late! But here is chapter 9! Next chapter things start to get interesting again hehe. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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“Kim Taehyung, huh?” Ellie circles around the man like a god damn vulture. She inspects him carefully, her eyes raking his body over and over. “Yeah.” She stops, looks him up and down one more time and nods her head approvingly. “He’s hot as fuck.”

“Ellie…” you whine, “Can you please at least try to act normal?”

Ellie brings her cigarette to her lips, inhaling the poison before blowing it out. “Nah.”

Taehyung looks at you with wide eyes, his amused smile growing wide and taking over his face. His eyes then meet your sisters and he bows his head slightly and smirks to himself.

“Nice to meet you Ellie.” He gets out before you can say anything else.

“Mom’s going to hate this, you know?” Ellie takes another drag of her cigarette, “Going to Korea for 3 weeks? Taking a leave of absence from work? Dude going to another fucking country, girl you are crazy.” Ellie laughs, but she approves.

“Why do I even have to tell her?” you can’t help but pout. You admit your mother can be…something else.

“Are you serious y/n?” Ellie looks at you with pinched brows, “You went missing for 8 months and now you want to disappear for another 3 weeks? Without her knowing? Are you trying to kill her?”

“I guess you have a point—”

“—I’m meeting your parents, y/n.” Taehyung cuts in, walking closer to your side. You three are standing outside your apartment building where you two met Ellie. It’s the morning of Taehyung’s flight but he is missing it.

“You are what now?” you ask totally off guard.

“Ellie can you set up a time and place for us to meet them? I’m afraid y/n will try to make an excuse.” He sighs out, “Please.”

Ellie raises a brow, impressed at how straight forward Taehyung seems to be. She pulls out her phone and dials for your dad.

“Taehyung…” you look over at him and he only stares at you with hard eyes. He’s mad at you. As he should be, you think.

“I want to meet them, I think it is… important.” He breathes out, “Don’t you?”

You nibble on your lips as you think, you even mumble some nonsense Taehyung can’t understand before you finally nod your head.

“Okay.” You agree shyly, “If you want to.”

“You realize you will be meeting my parents too, right?” Taehyung walks closer to you, “And all of my friends.”

“What? Even Hana?” You snap, “Joy.”

“y/n…” Taehyung warns in a low voice. “Don’t be that way.”

“Don’t be that way?” You whisper shout, trying to keep your voice somewhat down so Ellie can’t hear you as well as she has her phone to her ear.

“Don’t be that way? You fucked another girl, Taehyung.”

“Is that fair, y/n? You had no intention of ever talking to me again.” Taehyung bites, “You are being so fucking unfair.” His eyes squeeze shut as he tries to calm down. “Fuck.”

Your eyes look up and you scan the sky. It’s cloudy today, almost looks like it could rain but it probably won’t. It just tricks you into thinking it might, kind of feels like your mood.

“Trouble in paradise already?” Ellie brings the phone down a bit to speak to you two. “Dad isn’t answering, I’ll try mom.” She says, bringing the phone back to her ear.

You huff out a short, frustrated breath as you nod your head towards your sister. You can’t even look at Taehyung right now, you feel betrayed over Hana but also you feel guilty because he is right. You are being so fucking unfair. And also this begs the question…did you have no intention of ever talking to him again?

You push that thought away as you stare at your sister, watching her expectantly as she waits for your mom to answer the phone.

“y/n.” Taehyung finally opens his eyes and gazes down at you, “Follow me.”

“Taehyung, no—”

“Now.” His voice expresses the deepest parts of the sea, the depth so intimidating. Your eyes slide to the side as you release a few shaky breaths. You mumble a weak ‘okay’ and follow him a few feet to the side, walking towards the stairs to your apartment building.

“Let’s try to get along.” He sighs, his hands at his sides until he’s reaching up to drag a hand down his tired face. “For both our sake’s.”

“Are you forcing yourself to be nice to me?” you ask, a bite in your tone and Taehyung looks down at you with his cold, intimidating stare.

“Mostly.” He comments plainly and you feel your heart pinch.

“Why even bother? Why force yourself if you hate me?” You find the courage to look into his eyes and he narrows his at you.

“I don’t hate you. I’m fucking pissed at you.” He begins, “I’m allowed to be hurt and act accordingly.” He breathes out heavily, “Don’t you think?” he challenges you.

“Okay, okay.” You roll your eyes. “I-“

“Don’t get a fucking attitude either, I’m the one who is mad here.” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest. “If I were you I would be working on your apologies.”

You feel like a child being scolded and it infuriates you. He is treating you like a god damn kid and you can’t help but feel like you probably deserve it.

“Okay, Taehyung.” You slump your shoulders slightly, “I understand…”

Taehyung’s hand finds itself in your hair, his fingers sliding down to play with the ends.

“Good girl.” He praises with a smug smile.

You are upset but hearing him call you a good girl has your stomach doing flips. You two have barely touched the other since you have seen him, he has kept his distance and you are too nervous to make the first move. Last night he slept on your couch…yeah, he didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed as you. At least he stayed with you though and not that dingy hotel.

You can’t help but feel like the miles your home and his home had you apart feels like nothing compared to the distance between you two now. He says he loves you and wants to make this work but he can barely look at you and it is painfully obvious. He’s hurt, so hurt. He isn’t being shy about how hurt and disappointed he is and it’s hard to swallow.

Taehyung hasn’t made many attempts to be closer to you, in fact, it seems like he is going out of his way to not be close to you. Which only causes you to sink deeper and deeper into your hole of self-pity. Why did he say he wants this to work yet he is acting the way he is?

“I don’t hate you. I’m fucking pissed at you.” He begins, “I’m allowed to be hurt and act accordingly.” He breathes out heavily, “Don’t you think?”

Right. He has every right to be acting the way he is. He is allowed to be hurt and you shouldn’t turn this around to make yourself the victim here, when it’s clear here on who should be upset.

But the thought of Taehyung sleeping with someone who isn’t you makes you fucking furious but also depressed as hell. He couldn’t last 6 months without sticking his dick in someone else?

Then you remember that in his mind you had no intention of ever talking or seeing him again. Truthfully, you don’t know if he is wrong about that. It’s possible you really weren’t ever going to reach out. You’re the worst.

You don’t even know what Taehyung went through while being without you but the empty look in his dark, chocolate eyes tells you it was not pretty. He hasn’t opened up about it but it’s not like you two really have found the time or space to discuss. You have to respect the fact that he wants space, that he wants distance, that he wants to feel his emotions even if they are negative. He’s allowed to feel his emotions, y/n.

“Mom said her and dad can meet us down town at that one restaurant you like y/n…with the pretty drapes.” Ellie walks up to you and Taehyung. “They’ll be here this evening. Mom and dad are excited to meet you Taehyung.”

“Ah, really?” Taehyung asks Ellie while his gaze remains on you. “Me too.”

Ellie looks between you two and awkwardly nods her head. “Okay, I should get going but I will see you guys this evening.”

“Sounds good…” You respond to her, your eyes finally leaving Taehyung’s as you give your attention to you sister. “Send me a text when you are on your way to the restaurant.”

“Will do.” She leans in, hugging you quickly and leaving a kiss on your cheek. “See you two tonight.” She pulls back and faces Taehyung giving him a small wave then she if off to her car leaving you and Taehyung.

“Should we head inside?” you ask quietly, swinging your arms at your sides. “I can make you some pancakes?” you offer shyly and Taehyung frowns. Fucking frowns.

“I kind of ate pancakes almost every day,” He admits, “Oh!” he lights up, “Do you know how to make French toast?”

Your lips curve upward into a small smile, “Yes, Tae. I can make you some French toast, if that’s what you would rather have.”

“Let’s go inside.” He gestures towards the stairs and you follow closely behind him. You two walk down a hall until he is stopped at your front door, you run into his back and stumble back.

“Careful.” He whispers, “Don’t want you falling.” He reaches for the knob and opens the door, walking inside. You follow him, closing the door behind you and taking your shoes off.

~

“I knew yours would taste even better. You just have a way with breakfast food, did you know that?” Taehyung stuffs his face with another slice of the French toast you whipped up. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him, he looks so invested in this last piece of French toast like he wants to take his time with it so it’ll never end.

“Hey, my cooking elsewhere has improved!” you whine.

“When we get to Korea,” Taehyung begins, his eyes finding yours. “I want to show you some dishes I like and maybe we can learn to cook them together.”

“Mine will never be as good as your moms, let’s get that out there right now.” You laugh and Taehyung nods his head like he agrees with you, you playfully swat his arm across the table.

“But yours can be second best. Even if you aren’t any good, I’ll still eat it.” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

“You’ll eat my bad cooking?”

“Only because I …” Taehyung’s grin gets wiped off his face before he can even finish that sentence. “Because I…love you.” He says more quietly, now avoiding your gaze.

“Right…” you feel your pinching heart want to give up on you, it hurts in your chest.

Taehyung looks at you, he doesn’t really know what to say at this point. He doesn’t know how to act like he wants to. He’s too hurt. But he has to try. Or else he isn’t sure what will come from the two of you.

“I do love you.” He sighs out, “So much.” He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his and he feels himself grow weaker and weaker. “But I do want to take this slow. We have a lot to learn about one another now that we are in reality again. We aren’t in our own bubble like how we were.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and start nibbling nervously. Take it slow how?

“Am I allowed to hug you? Kiss you?” you ask, almost ashamed that you had to ask something like that.

“I’m not feeling all too affectionate…” Taehyung admits softly, “But,” he bites his own lips as he looks down at your hands. “I could take a hug right now.”

You pull your hand away from his and draw it towards your body, you intertwine your fingers together in your lap and sigh out. Your eyes on your hands, your head hanging low.

“Are you sure?” you hear your voice crack and you want to disappear.

“Come here baby.” Taehyung stands from his chair and waits for you expectantly. “Come hug me.” He says, his voice nice and low like a hum.

You slowly rise from your chair and without looking at him you inch closer and closer until he’s pulling you in by the arms.

He hates this almost as much as you do. Maybe even more. He thought he would come here, find you and everything would be light and smooth but instead it has proven to be hard, harder than he imagined.

“Hug me back.” He orders softly, dragging your arms to wrap around his waist. “And hold me tightly.”

You circle your arms around his waist and walk closer until your head is being shoved into his chest. You can smell him like this, his scent filling your nostrils and creating a long, string of memories linked with his scent. Suddenly, you are recalling every moment you spent like this. Every moment you ever inhaled him, every moment you felt his scent linger on your own body.

You feel your chest tightening and your throat burning, you try to speak but you can’t. You’re too lost in the scent of Taehyung, too lost to think, your mind fuzzy and tricking you. It says he wants you, needs you, loves you. And you just don’t know how true that is. You feel your cheeks wet from the few tears that are now slipping out of your eyes, you sniffle into his chest and you feel Taehyung tense beneath you.

“Don’t cry.” He says as soft as he can, “Babe…” he starts rubbing your back, his large hand touching you in a way that makes you start to cry harder.

“y/n.” He then hugs you tighter, pulling you in impossibly close.

“I’m just so…so…sorry…” You choke out, sniffling harder now. Taehyung releases a long breath, closing his eyes as he pulls you in flush against him.

“I know…” he keeps his eyes closed as he thinks on what to say. But he comes up short, he just really doesn’t know what to tell you right now.

“You hate me.” You cry harder into his chest and Taehyung finally shoots his eyes open and begins shaking his head.

“I don’t hate you…” he breathes out, “I told you already. I’m just upset. And it’s going to take some time—”

“How much time?”

“y/n, I don’t know.” He bunches the material of your shirt in his hands as he tries to calm his frustrations. “I’m hurt. You really didn’t…you really were going to never talk to me again…like those 8 months we spent together meant nothing to you.”

“That’s not true.” You sob. “I think eventually—”

“When? 10 years from now? You think I would have waited forever?” he mutters.

“Apparently not. You couldn’t even wait 6 months to get your dick wet.” You pull back from him, your eyes puffy from the tears.

“Really y/n?” He steps back from you, “It didn’t mean anything. I was so fucking broken when that happened.”

“Oh? And her pussy was the glue to put you back?” you snap. You watch as Taehyung grows angry, the scowl on his face almost scaring you.

“You are the most unfair fucking person.” He spits out, “Yeah, I fucked Hana. But we aren’t like that, we’re just friends.”

“I don’t want you to be friends with a girl you’ve fucked!” you admit between bated breathes, “Who says it won’t happen again?”

“Me. I say that.” Taehyung growls, “I have no interest in Hana…I was…I was in a really dark place.” He tries to calm himself, “Really dark place.”

“How dark?” you ask, making him feel interrogated.

“Would go to sleep never wanting to wake up.” He says with a straight face and you feel yourself grow guilty. You did that to him. It’s your fault. How do you make up for that?

“Fuck.” You look down at your feet, “I’m so sorry Tae…”

“Doesn’t matter. What matters to me right now is that you understand I don’t want Hana. I obviously want you. I came all the way here to make this work with you.” He huffs out, his eyes boring holes into the top of your bowing head.

“Tell me you understand or it’s going to be that much more work to make this happen.” Taehyung steps closer to you, reaching for your hand.

“We have a lot to work through y/n. This isn’t the island anymore. This is both of our real lives and we’re intertwining them. At least I want to.” His thumb starts rubbing your skin and you feel yourself grow warm. You finally lift your head and gaze into his dark, dark eyes. He is staring at you with so much intensity that you automatically feel intimidated.

“Tell me you will be patient. Tell me you want this. Fuck, tell me you love me.” Taehyung keeps his deep voice low, but you can hear the frustration throughout his words.

“I love you.” You stumble forward until you are embracing him again. “I love you so much.” You begin to cry again, much more softly this time. “I will do anything to make sure this works Taehyung.”

Taehyung can’t help but smile a little, he places a kiss to the top of your head and he sniffs you. Same shampoo as what you had on the island. He feels his eyes sting a bit, the memories of the island beginning to haunt him.

“Anything?” he whispers and you nod your head frantically.

“Let my mom teach you how to make japchae. Then make it for me.”

“You’ll eat it even if it’s bad?”

“Even if it’s bad.”

~~~~~~~

“Very good to meet you, Taehyung.” Your mother drops her hand from his as she eyes him over. “You really spent every day with our y/n? For 8 months? Aren’t you tired of her?” she half jokes.

“I could never.” He replies smoothly. “And it’s also nice meeting you Mr. y/L/n” Taehyung reaches out to shake your dads hand when your father takes it but pulls him in for a tight hug.

“You took care of y/n all that time…” Your dad hugs Taehyung gratefully, taking a moment before he pulls back. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“She took care of me too.” Taehyung smiles as your dad pulls away from him. “Always made me breakfast.” He teases, stealing a glance at you. You are standing here next to him with an awkward smile on your face.

“It wasn’t much…” you say quietly. “Anyway, we should go get our table.”

“I got it!” Ellie comes up to you four, “Let’s go.”

You all follow Ellie to a table for 6. You guys occupy 5 of those spots, your mother uses the extra chair for her purse. The server sets down your menus and takes out his little notepad to take down your drink orders.

A sweet tea for your mother, a coke for your father, waters for both you and Taehyung and a vodka sprite for your sister. You give her a look of amusement before you stop your server from leaving and ordering your own spiked drink.

“Careful girls.” Your mother warns. “There’s no need to get drunk.”

“Oh its one drink mother.” You sister scoffs. “Plus I think y/n could use it.”

“And why is that?” Your dad suddenly becomes interested in your conversation. “Is everything okay? How is work going? Are you making friends?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” You wave him off, “It’s just…this dinner serves two purposes.” You admit, your eyes darting all across the room.

“Which are?” your mom narrows her eyes at you. “I know one is to meet your little boyfriend. But what’s the other?”

Boyfriend? Is Taehyung your boyfriend? You guys haven’t discussed it. You only said you two will make it work but what all does that mean?

“Well…” you begin to feel small under your mothers gaze. “I am….” You find it hard to gather the words and the courage to finish your sentence. You feel like the lights above you are too bright, too hot and causing you to sweat slightly.

Suddenly, you feel Taehyung’s large hand caressing and squeezing your thigh. Your head whips up to face him and he is already staring at you with a small smile.

“She’s coming back with me to Korea.” Taehyung states while he continues to look at you, finally, he turns his head to face your parents.

Your mother quite literally chokes on her spit, her eyes expanding twice their size as she looks at the two of you. Your dad rubs her back, trying to calm her.

“She’s what now?” You mother coughs out, “I don’t think I heard that right.”

Your sister looks between the four of you with a wide grin on her face.

“Oh mother dearest…” Elli sings out. “I think you did hear that right.”

“You’re …you’re moving to Korea?”

“Yes.” Ellie jumps in but you twist your head to look at her disapprovingly.

“No…no, just going to visit.” You finally find the courage to say. “For three weeks.”

Your mother scrunches her face up, a look of disappointment on her face.

“y/n. You just started a new job. Don’t you think this is rather irresponsible?”

“It’s only for three weeks darling.” Your dad finally says something. “Right y/n?”

You nibble on your bottom lip and nod your head a few times.

“For now.” Taehyung cuts in. His hand continues to rub your thigh and you hate to admit how much feeling his hand on your thigh makes you feel so good.

“Wait.” You snap out of your thoughts, “What do you mean ‘for now’, huh?”

Taehyung looks down at the table, about to respond to you when the server comes back with your drinks.

“Your tea mam…” the server sets down the tea in front of your mother and she barely reacts. She only blinks at you and Taehyung, her face gone pale.

“Yes, Taehyung.” She starts, “What do you mean for now?”

Taehyung opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly. He turns to face you and he awkwardly smiles.

“I feel like that’s something we have to talk about…just me and you.”

“If it’s something just us to discuss then why bring it up in front of my parents?” You grit out nervously.

“Right…sorry.” Taehyung mumbles, he reaches for his water that the server just set down. “You’re in this right?” He asks before taking a sip of his water. “With me?”

You blink at him a few times before glancing at your parents, they look at you with curiosity. Then your eyes find your sisters who is drinking her vodka sprite with a smug smile.

“Yeah y/n.” Ellie takes a few sips. “Are you in this?” Then you feel her kick your foot with hers.

“Y-Yes.” You say, a bit shy. But Taehyung finds himself relaxing.

“Then, for now.” He repeats himself from earlier, “One day we will live together, don’t you think? But don’t worry it’s up for debate where.”

“L-Live together?” you get out awkwardly.

“If you remember correctly y/n, it’s not like we haven’t lived together before.” He squeezes your thigh. “Don’t worry it’s something we will get to…slowly.”

You nod your head in understanding and face your parents. You exhale a deep breath and find your mothers eyes.

“I will be leaving tomorrow for 3 weeks. Taehyung and I…” Your eyes slide to your side where Taehyung is sitting. “We have a lot to work through. I’m sure you can be understanding of our situation.”

“Of course sweetheart.” Your dad smiles at you, but your mother is shaking her head.

“You didn’t even want to reach out to him? You think you can enter a relationship when you didn’t even want to talk to him?” Your mother snaps at you. She crushes the napkin in her fists as she speaks. “You can’t handle this y/n.” she looks at you with cold eyes.

“Mom—”

“She can.” Taehyung cuts in, “She is stronger than you give her credit for Mrs. y/l/n.”

Your mother scoffs at this, she throws her napkin in her lap and shakes her head.

“You don’t know her then. Taehyung.”

You feel yourself grow smaller and smaller as your mother continues to bash you. You try to even your breathing but her words carry weight.

“Jesus Christ, mother.” Ellie cuts in. “Do you even know the first thing there is to know about y/n?”

“I think I know my daughter well enough that when there is the first sign of something not working she runs away.”

“So what?” Taehyung growls. “So I am supposed to abandon her because she has personal shit to work through?”

“Tae…” you mumble weakly, “Let’s just go…”

Your sister finishes her drink and slams it down on the table, she looks at you with eyes on fire.

“Really y/n? Just going to prove her point like that?” Ellie hardens her expression as she stares at you waiting for your reply.

You feel weak. But your sister is right. You can’t let your mother win every time.

“Listen, you can agree or disagree but I am going.” You look your mother right in the eye. “I love him. And we have a lot to work through if we want this.” You say honestly. “So, whether you guys agree or not, I am going.”

“Of course we agree.” Your dad continues to rub your mothers back. “Your mom is just worried about you.”

“I’ll return home in three weeks.” You say confidently until you notice your mother’s eyes glossed over.

“Will you though? I thought I lost you. Now you want to disappear again.” Your mom says quietly. “He’s the reason you were gone for 8 months.” She points at Taehyung. “And now he wants to steal you away again.”

You pinch your brows together and try to breath evenly as your mom’s words sink in. She blames Taehyung for the island?

“It’s not his fault for the island mom…” you look between her and your sister, looking for answers. Ellie just shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, right?” your mother spits out. “Just do what you want y/n.”

“I will?” you say slowly. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

“You leave tomorrow?” Your father asks, still rubbing your mothers back.

“Flight is at 10 am.” You respond, “I promise I will be back.”

“She will come back.” Taehyung says softly, the guilt evident in his voice. “You can trust me to take care of her.”

“Okay, then that’s all settled!” Your dad claps his hands together. “Should we order some food? You kids get what you want, we’re paying tonight.”

~~~~

“Do you want to take a shower…with me?” Your timid voice shakes a little as you ask Taehyung if he wants to you know, fucking shower with you.

His eyes rake over your body, you are wearing just a towel and his eyes widen at the sight. Your skin looks so soft, so delectable. Your towel barely covering the entirety of your breasts and it doesn’t help how short it is, your thighs so exposed. Your hair falls over your shoulders and your collarbone begs to be kissed.

Taehyung shakes these thoughts from his mind and looks up at you from his spot on the couch.

“I can’t…” he says slowly, “I am serious about going slow.”

“You don’t have to fuck me.” You put it bluntly. “I just miss you. Want to be close to you.”

“You won’t tempt me?” he rises from the sofa. “The most you are allowed to touch me is washing my hair.” He states.

“Okay.” You agree quickly. “Come shower with me.” You reach for his hand and he immediately wraps his fingers around yours, making you get all warm and gooey inside.

“I missed you too.” He whispers, following you into the bathroom. “Missed you so much.”

You take a step away from him and gesture for him to take off his clothes. He raises a brow at you and lifts his hands up.

“Take my clothes off for me.” He lightly teases, “But don’t let your hands linger.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes but you do as he says. You pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor and then your hands go to his pants. Your fingers quickly try to slide down his zipper and drag his jeans down leg by leg. He kicks them off to the side as you reach for the waistband of his briefs. You lick your lips as you slowly slide them down his legs, his cock springing free. He isn’t hard, not that hard at least, but his size is still impressive.

“Turn the water on babe.” He points towards the shower, “And lose the towel.”

You let the towel drop to the floor as you walk towards your shower, Taehyung watches your ass as you walk. He can’t help but bite down on his plump bottom lip, just watching you. He wishes he could take you by the hair, bend you over and fuck you for hours. But he’s afraid at this point the only sex he can have with you is angry, hate sex. And he wants his first time with you again to be full of love and nothing but.

“Make the water nice and warm.” He softly commands.

You twist the knob, making the water run in hot streams. It warms up quickly so you grab Taehyung’s hand and lead him into the shower.

The water stings a bit as it hits your back but you throw your head back anyway and let it wash over you fully.

“Shampoo.” You tell Taehyung and he is already squeezing it into his hand. You walk forward until you are touching Taehyung, chest to chest. He gulps when he feels your nipples grazing his skin.

“Close your eyes.” He commands. “I’m going to wash your hair now.” He massages your head tenderly, your hair turning into a soapy mess. “Rinse now.” He pushes you back until you are back under water.

This continues on, he rubs conditioner in your hair and then takes your washrag and pumps some body wash into it.

“Going to clean you.” He says lowly, “Is that okay?”

“Mhm.” You swallow down your nerves and agree to him touching you. First he moves your hair back and starts at your shoulders. He scrubs them slowly, the soap and water falling down your chest and your arms. Taehyung follows the soap, his eyes traveling all down your body.

“Have you lost weight?” he asks, slightly concerned.

You feel yourself blush.

“Maybe a little.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t the only one going through a hard time, Tae.”

Taehyung nods his head slowly, his hand lowering itself until he is scrubbing at your stomach. He watches all the bubbles form on your skin and he actually feels jealous over fucking bubbles. He gulps, thinking about how these bubbles get to slide down your stomach, how they get to travel down to your pussy.

“y/n…” Taehyung’s deep voice startles you, you are so lost in the way he cleans you. You feel yourself grow more and more frustrated by the way he touches you and you know it will go nowhere.

“Yes?” you say breathlessly. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to clean…” he clears his throat. “Everywhere.” He warns.

You feel your knees go weak at his words, you try your hardest not to rub your thighs together but you can’t help it.

“Okay.” You murmur.

Taehyung’s hands glides down your lower stomach, making you tense. Then his fingers find your pussy and he is rubbing his fingers over it, nice and slow.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” his low voice asks you.

“N-No.” you shake your head, your knees starting to shake from how weak you are.

Taehyung’s fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing it. You fall forward a little, your head resting on Taehyung’s shoulder as he feels you.

“You didn’t?” He asks again, his deep voice rumbling. “You’re sure?” He starts rubbing faster.

“I promise, Taehyung.” You moan into his shoulder. “You’re the only one I have been with.”

“Then I’ll reward you.” He whispers, “With my fingers.”

His fingers slide down to your hole and he inserts not one, but two fingers into your lonely, desperate cunt.

“Did you ever touch yourself?” he breathes out roughly. “And think of me?”

“Yes.” You pant, “All the time.”

His fingers start thrusting in and out of you quickly. They are so long, so beautiful. You have missed his fingers so much, it’s ridiculous.

“You only came to the thought me?” His breaths are erratic as he speaks. “Because for me, I only thought of you.”

“Yes Tae, yes.”

He finally adds in a third finger, making you feel fuller and fuller. He curls his fingers making you tense, he starts scissoring his fingers, they brush against your special spots and you groan out loud. There’s no way you are lasting another 30 seconds.

“Please let me touch you.” You start to beg, but Taehyung just thrusts his fingers in and out of you faster and harder.

“Please.” You beg again, you squeeze his shoulders with your hands. “I have missed you so much, need to touch you.”

“No.” Taehyung gets out roughly, “No…”

His other hands fingers finds your clit again and starts focusing his energy there, he rubs your clits so expertly that your knees finally give out on you as you start coming all over his hands.

“Ahhhh. Fuck,” your erratic breaths hit the skin of his shoulder as you come undone. “Fuck…” you bite down on his shoulder. Taehyung isn’t much better, his own breaths uneven.

“I don’t deserve you.” Taehyung whispers in your ear. “You’re too good for me.”

“I’m the one who is undeserving.” You admit softly as you steady your breaths. “Please tell me you will sleep with me tonight…in my bed, I mean.”

“Maybe.”

~

“Please come to bed with me, Tae.” You stand over him as he lays on the couch. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t trust myself.” He says with his hands behind his head, eyes closed.

“Why are…why are you stopping yourself from being affectionate with me? Why wouldn’t you let me touch you?” you squat down next to him, your face now closer to his.

“Because I don’t deserve you. To be touched by you.” He says softly. “You didn’t sleep with anyone else.” He murmurs, “You stayed loyal to me, despite not knowing when you would see me. But I…” he opens his eyes, he turns his head to face you. “But I did.”

You feel your stomach twist and turn, your heart falling and falling deep into your lower stomach. Hana.

“Why did you do it?” You finally ask, “Why did you feel the need to sleep with her?”

“I was in a dark place, y/n.” Taehyung groans, “The girl I was in love with…am in love with…wanted nothing to do with me.” He looks at you with hard eyes.

“But I hate myself for it.” He admits, “I should have found you sooner, I should have—”

“Tae.” You cut him off before he gets too choked up. “Let’s talk properly. From the beginning.”

“The beginning?” he blinks at you. “Ah. The island. Our fight before we got separated.”

“Yes…” you sit down on the floor, crossing your legs. “I am so sorry. I loved you then just like how I love you now.” You take a deep breath. “My mom isn’t so wrong about me. I ran away when things got hard, or got complicated.” You chuckle bitterly. “But I didn’t think I would wake up and find you to be gone from me, my life.”

“I know…” Taehyung whispers.

“But…” you begin again, “It gives me a whole new appreciation for goodbyes. I should have never let us go to sleep like that, in the middle of a fight, and I will never let that happen again.”

“y/n…” He sits up from his place on the couch and pats the spot next to him, you get up and sit down on the sofa.

“I don’t think the company forced us to have feelings for one another. Because here I am in the real world, so ridiculously in love with you.” you say a bit quietly. “I should have trusted you. Trusted myself. I promise you Taehyung, I will never doubt you again. So tell me how you feel about me and I will believe every word…even if it isn’t all positive.”

Taehyung nods his head as he stares at his feet, his hand goes to your thigh and he starts rubbing it soothingly.

“I love you.” He says after a few moments of silence, “But I am still really hurt over everything. A big part of me keeps telling me you were never going to reach out. That part of me terrorizes me. It screams at me that you don’t actually love me.” He admits lowly, “But hearing you now…it helps.” He says, still rubbing your thigh. “I think I believe in you. Even if you don’t believe in yourself…I really think you would have reached out.” He tells himself more than you. “I have to believe that.” He closes his eyes and is silent for a few more moments.

“Taehyung—”

“Tell me I’m right.” He says desperately. “Just tell me I am right.”

“You’re right.” You say even if you aren’t so sure yourself. “You’re right, babe.”

“You know I don’t play games and I like for everything to be out in the open so I am going to tell you all of my intentions.” Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you.

“Okay.” You gulp.

“I love you and only you.” He begins. “I want this to work for the long run. I want you to meet my family, meet my friends and I want to see how everything goes.” He squeezes your knee. “I’m hoping the visit goes amazing so we can discuss the next steps.”

“Which are?”

“I don’t want to do long distance, y/n…” he brings his hand back to his own body, “I want to live closer to you. Even if that means I have to move here but honestly I think you will really like it in Korea…”

“You want to move together? Like, live together?”

“You already know we can do it. We make pretty good roommates.” He teases, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“Okay, true…”

“Then you realize the things that come after that right?” he says with a smirk on his face. “But first, let’s take these next three weeks as slow as possible. Let’s get to know one another all over again. To see if this really works outside the island.”

“Why do I feel like you are testing me?” you ask with a frown but Taehyung gives you a stern look and shakes his head.

“You’re technically testing me too.” He says, “We need to see if this works.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“I want to officially take you out. On a real date.” He whispers, “Would you like that?”

You feel your blush deepening on your face, your hand goes to your cheek just to feel how warm it is.

“Yes.” You mumble.

“Need to hear you loud and clear baby.”

“Yes.” You say a bit louder and Taehyung’s hand goes back to your thigh, he starts rubbing up and down your leg.

“That’s my good girl.” He leans in to kiss the side of your neck and you feel your whole body go tense under his lips touching your skin.

“Taehyung…” you moan out, closing your eyes. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” He whispers into your neck, placing another kiss then he leans away. “Go to bed.” His deep voice echoes.

“Come with me.”

“Not yet baby.”

You slump your shoulders in disappointment. Why is he being so difficult?

“Just to sleep.”

“I can’t control myself around you y/n. Please respect my decision.” He ushers you to stand him so he can lay back down on the couch. You stand up and hover over him for a moment.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” you asks timidly. Taehyung gnaws on his lips before he is waving you off.

“Please just go to sleep.” He somewhat begs. “I’ll see you in the morning, make sure you’re all packed.”

~~~~~

You are nervous. Nervous as fuck, actually. You and Taehyung just arrived in Korea and even the air is different. You can’t believe you’re actually here, you can’t believe you really got on that plane and flew all the way to Taehyung’s home—the place you were so curious about when you first met him.

Taehyung seems different. Like, being home is showing a whole new side of him. He looks happy, giddy even. He holds your hand tightly as you both walk the streets with your luggage. You two got dropped off from your taxi a couple blocks away from his apartment so he could show you some shops he loves to go to.

“This bar here is quite popular between my friends and I.” he points at a little bar and you just nod your head.

“Looks nice.” You say with starry eyes. “Everything looks nice, actually.”

“We will be going there tomorrow night when we meet up with everyone. My friends-that is.” He squeezes your hand. “Tonight we can go to my parent’s house for dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Already?” you look down at your shoes as you walk. “I thought we could just relax today…”

“It’s like 8 in the morning. There’s plenty of time for a nap.” He comments nonchalantly. “Look, I’m just really excited for you to meet everyone. I understand though…if you want to take a few days…”

“No, no. It’s okay.” You shake your head, you two continue walking until he stops, making you stop.

“We’re here. My apartment.” He points up at the building and you take a deep breath.

“Are you going to make me sleep on the couch?” you half joke and he pulls you into his side, hugging you.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He teases.

You both walk up to his apartment and enter the small place—you say small, but it is bigger than your place and much nicer. How does Taehyung afford this?

“My parents help out…” he admits as if reading your mind. “That’s how I got such a nice place.”

“Ah I see. That’s great!”

“Ever since the island my dad has been super supportive of my music, always just wanting the best for me.” He grins sheepishly. “It’s different but it’s nice.”

“I’m happy for you…I can’t wait to meet your parents.” You place your suitcase and backpack down on the floor, Taehyung does the same.

“Let me give you a tour.” He smiles, taking your hand.

You follow him around as he shows you his apartment, you two take a moment longer in his bedroom. You slide your fingers against his beds blanket, and admire the art on his walls.

“Yes, you will be sleeping in here.” He huffs out dramatically, “I haven’t decided where I am sleeping though.”

“Take a nap with me…” you walk closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Just an innocent nap” you lean into him, your warm mouth at his ear. “Innocent, I promise.” You lean back a bit to see how pink Taehyung is becoming, his face flushing and his body tensing.

“No…” he stutters, “I can’t.” but he can’t help his own hands from wrapping around your waist. He pulls you in closer to his body and breathes you in. God, this is pure fucking torture. He can’t help the way his breathes become rougher, slightly uneven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out. “I want to kiss you so bad.” He says as he grows weaker and weaker in your grasp.

“Then kiss me, Tae.”

“Maybe our first date.” He teases, his hands going lower until they are gripping your hips. “Please tell me you’ll let me take you out this Friday?”

“I have to wait that long?”

“Only 4 days baby.”

“4 days too many.” You pout…”But you are worth the wait.” You lean up and kiss his cheek.

Taehyung slowly closes his eyes, the urge to kiss you stupid is strong. The urge to rip your clothes off and fuck you? Even stronger.

“y/n…” he warns. “Hurry up and take your nap. I’m going to let the guys know we made it,” he says, pulling out his phone.

You bite your lips while nodding your head in understanding. You pull away from Taehyung and pull off your shirt, and slip off your jeans.

“W-What are you doing?” Taehyung blushes as he watches you undress.

“Changing.” You shrug, you walk towards his drawers and open them up one by one, trying to find yourself one of his t shirts.

“You are really testing me, aren’t you?” he bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes scanning your exposed body. “You really want me to slip those panties off and fuck you silly?” he walks closer to you, putting his phone in his back pocket. He crosses his arms over his chest and eyes you.

“Keep going.” He orders. “Take off the rest of your clothes. Sleep in nothing but the t shirt.”

Your head snaps up to face him and you see how serious he is. You swallow down your spit as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. It falls to the floor and you feel the cool air hardening your buds.

“Panties too.” Taehyung commands, “Take them off slowly though.”

You nod, your hands going to the waistband of your panties, you slowly drag one side down and then the other. You begin to slide them down one leg at a time when you hear Taehyung tsk.

“Slower.” He says sternly. “I said slow.”

You drag them down slower now, they are barely at your thighs when Taehyung takes long strides to meet you. He slaps your hands away and his own hands go to your underwear.

“Like this.” He begins showing you, “Nice and slow. Let the anticipation build.”

He slides them off you so fucking slowly, when they get to your knees he pauses, his eyes traveling up to your exposed pussy. He licks his drying lips and groans.

“I can smell you baby. You’re wet.”

You throw your head back, feeling embarrassed. You squeeze your thighs together when he starts dragging the panties down again. When they’re finally at your ankles, you kick them away.

“You got wet from something like this?” he quirks a brow at you, amusement written all over his face.

“I can’t help it Tae, I need you.”

“You are so greedy,” Taehyung walks closer to you, his fingers sliding up your arms. “You just had my fingers in the shower, now you already need more?”

“I’ll always need more until you let me have you.” You admit between bated breaths.

“Oh is that so?” he teases, his fingers traveling up towards your neck. His fingers wrap around your throat, he squeezes and walks you backwards until your body is against the wall.

“You want to come?” He squeezes your throat just a bit tighter.

“Yes.” You squeak out, you can’t help but swivel your hips.

“My greedy girl wants to come?” he asks again, his other hand gripping your hips. “Then come. Touch yourself.”

“T-Touch myself?” your eyes widen, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb baby, take your fingers and rub that clit for me.” He says while squeezing your throat lightly. You feel yourself grow more and more turned on. Your hand reaches down between your legs, and your fingers find your swollen, aching clit.

“How does that feel babe? To finally be touched?” he asks, his hand never leaving your throat as his other hand massages your hip. “I want you coming all over your fingers.”

You rub your clit faster and faster, you’re slowly closing your eyes when Taehyung squeezes your throat a bit harder.

“No.” he says. “You have to keep your eyes on me.”

You open them wider, you stare up at Taehyung, his gaze is dark and intense. Your lips part as you moan out, your whines and whimpers all directed towards Taehyung.

“Mm.” you moan, “Feels good, Tae.” You rub tight, focused circles on your little bundle of nerves, you quickly feel your high approaching. The entire situation making you feel so fucking turned on. Taehyung looks so fucked out as he watches you. His eyes glazed over in lust.

“You going to come?” he asks breathlessly. “Because of me?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You pant out, “I’m so close.” You tense your whole body as waves of your orgasm begin crashing over you. Your fingers keep going as you ride it out and your head hits the wall as you finally finish.

Taehyung loosens his grip on your neck, and pulls you in for a hug. He brings your naked body to his and he inhales you. Before you can wrap your arms around him and hug him back, Taehyung is grabbing your hand and leading you towards the bed.

“Lay down.” He orders. “Now.”

You give Taehyung a look of question but you do as he says. You lay down on the bed and wait for him to instruct you further.

“Spread your legs.”

You do as he says, spreading your legs nice and wide. You don’t know what to expect though, you eye him curiously.

“Place your fingers at your pussy.” He continues to instruct you. “Yes, like that…now gather your juices for me baby.” He walks over, gets on the bed between your legs. He crawls up your body until his face is in front of your face.

“Get your fingers soaked for me.” He kisses the side of your neck.

You get your fingers nice and wet and you bring them up between your faces, showing him.

“Good. Now let me taste.” He says, “This is the only way I deserve to taste you.”

You frown at that, but you push your fingers past his lips nonetheless.

Taehyung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his tongue swirls around your fingers, he can’t help but groan as he tastes you. You pull your fingers out of his warm mouth and gather more of your pussy juices. You then bring your fingers to his lips again, pushing past them so he can taste you again and again.

“How do I taste?” You breathe out, “Good?”

“My fucking favorite flavor.” He moans, “Taste yourself.” He commands, taking your hand in his, dipping it between your legs, so your fingers can gather your cum. Then he is bringing your hand back between your faces, and sticking your fingers in your mouth.

“Taste.” He orders quietly.

You lick up your fingers, moaning at your situation.

“I want you Taehyung.” You whisper desperately. “I need you.”

Taehyung bows his head down, breathing roughly at your words. He wants you too. He needs you too. But he still isn’t in the right place to fuck you. He wants this first time to be more than a fuck. He wants to make love to you. He also feels like he doesn’t deserve you now. He feels like shit.

“Not yet.” He breathes out harshly. “But maybe soon.” He struggles to find a steady breath.

“Taehyung…” you whine.

Taehyung rolls off your body, stands to his feet and grabs the t shirt you were going to use. He throws it over to you.

“Put this on and take your nap.” He says softly.

You listen, as usual. You pull the shirt over your head and through your arms and get up to clean yourself off.

Taehyung stands at his window, deep in thought. He wants you. He needs you. He loves you. He’s sure of all three of these things. But it’s too soon to think he has forgiven you isn’t it? It’s too soon to think he’s over it. He wants to be over it, of course. But he knows it is too soon to think he is.

“I guess I will take a nap now.” You announce your presence once again. You pull back Taehyung’s covers and slip inside the bed. The entire bed smells just like him. You pull the blanket to your nose and inhale it, you turn to your side and stuff your face in his pillow, inhaling that as well. Everything smells just like him. It makes you feel weak.

“Okay babe.”

You feel your eyes sting just a bit, the reality is Taehyung is still distancing himself from you. And that makes you feel small, makes you feel weak. You aren’t satisfied with anything. No attention he gives you feels like enough.

“Taehyung?” You call out for him, your voice small. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Taehyung leans away from the window and walks over to his bed. He sits on the edge, just staring at you.

“Sure.”

You nod gratefully, you reach out for his hand and he gives it to you.

“This will be a perfect 3 weeks, I swear.” You promise to Taehyung. He feels his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I know.” He responds in a whisper.

“You are going to fall even more in love with me.” Your voice cracks, your eyes filling with tears.

“I know.” He says quietly.

“You’re never going to want me to leave.”

“I know.”

“You are going to beg me to stay.” You choke on your words and he squeezes your hand.

“I know.”

And he is afraid of that…that he is going to beg you to stay but you will say no. You have your own life at your own home. He knows this is going to take work, he knows this is going to take time. He knows this. But fuck, he is ready to do everything with you. But he knows he needs to take it slow.

“You are going to be so in love with me by the end of this.” You silently cry.

Taehyung feels his heart pinch in his chest, he feels it struggling to find a beat. He knows this. He knows he is so in love with you and the more time he spends with you, it will grow. But do you feel the same? Do you really? You weren’t ever going to reach out, were you? He knows the answer deep down. The same thought fucking haunts him.

“I know.”

[ray-ray-writings]

Period Piece-SBI Au

This is a SBI x gn!reader in the SBI Au where Techno, Wilbur, Tommy, and the reader are all siblings with their father being Philza. For this particular imagine, the reader is the youngest of the siblings.  This is a bit Wilbur heavy because I have written Philza heavy SBI, Techno heavy SBI, and Tommy heavy SBI but not Wilbur and I was feeling soft for Wilbur sooo….. Oops.

This is gender neutral but it is about the reader getting their period for the first time so there’s that! Hope you enjoy! 

Masterlist here

Y/N starts their period at the worst time possible, the one time that Philza isn’t home… but their three brother’s are. 

Y/N’s POV

Sunlight flooding in through my window forced me awake. I let out a groan before flipping over to try and fall back asleep. A sharp pain caused by me flipping over ripped through my stomach causing me to let out a soft whimper. “What the heck” I whimpered to myself as my hand shot to my tummy and rested gently on the aching muscles. “What is wrong with me?” My stomach had never hurt like this before… Maybe it was something I ate last night… It may not be sitting well… Maybe I should go to the bathroom. 

Carefully, not wanting to hurt myself further, I lifted up the blankets and slowly slid out of the covers. I let out a shiver as the air pricked at my exposed skin, but I marched on. Slower than I have ever moved before, I made my way out of my room and down the hallway to the bathroom. 

The cool tile on my bear feet caused me to shiver as I shut the door and locked it behind me. Slowly I made my way over to the toilet, pulled my pants down, sat down, and began going to the bathroom. (That was so awkward for me to describe lol). I let out a sigh of relief as so of the pressure from my stomach released as my bladder emptied itself out… But not all of the pressure and pain was gone. 

After a few more moments, I decided that nothing else was going to come out so I wiped. Once I was done, I moved to stand up, but something on my hand caught my eye. My eyes widened as I examined my hand and found that the normally clean flesh was now covered in blood. “What?” I whispered out, unable to stop the panic from building in my chest. My eyes scanned my hand even harder, searching for the cut that could have caused this bleeding, but found nothing. Then it hit me, maybe this wasn’t from my hand. 

My gaze left my hand and scanned downward, stopping at my underwear. I couldn’t stop the small scream that ripped from my throat at the sight of my clean underwear soaked in blood. My breathing picked up as my heart pounded inside my chest. This is it! This is how it ends! I’m dying! I must be dying! Why else would I be bleeding… Down there. 

A pounding on the door startled me out of my spiral. “Y/N?” I heard Wilbur’s panicked voice screech from the other side of the door. “Are you okay in there? What’s happening, why did you scream?” It was at the sound of my brother’s voice did I realize what a predicament I was in. Dad had to go to work today. Like real actual work in an office building. Usually he can stay home but he had a meeting he had to go to in person… I was home alone with my three brothers. 

Tears blurred my vision as a sob escaped my lips, “I think I’m dying Will. I’m bleeding.” I called back. Thinking about it now, that probably wasn’t the best word choice, but I was panicked and Wilbur’s panic made me panic too. “You’re bleeding? Open the door! Let me in so I can help.” Another sob escaped my lips, “Can’t. Stuck.” I answered, not wanting to risk getting blood everywhere. 

“Why the hell did Y/N scream?” Tommy’s brash voice questioned out loud. “Tommy, now is not the time. Please, go back to your room, or go to the living room,” Wilbur practically begged. I could tell Tommy was about to retort but Wilbur spoke again before Tommy could get a word out, “Tommy… Please,” the sincerity in Wilbur’s voice must have really shown Tommy just what situation we were in because I didn’t hear another word from him, only footsteps walking away.

“Techno get the key from Dad’s room,” I heard Wilbur order from beyond the door, “Stuck. Where are you stuck Y/N?” “Toilet” I whimpered. My mind was too far in overdrive to give more than one word answers. “Okay. How are you stuck?” Wilbur questioned, the panic in his voice slowly decreasing at my answers. If he knew what was wrong, he could help better when he got in. “Bleeding” “Where are you bleeding from?” A small whimper escaped my lips as I thought about the answer. I couldn’t tell him that, could I? That’s a bit embarrassing and a little too TMI even for my older brother. But still Wilbur prompted again, “Where are you bleeding Y/N?” his soothing voice called. I took a gulp and a deep breath before answering. “Down there.” 

There was a pause from the other side of the door as Wilbur took in the information. “Down there?” I let out a small whimper in confirmation. “Y/N” he breathes out softly, “did you start your period?” Period…. Period. That word sounded familiar. I could vaguely remember someone mentioning something about it once… “Y/N?” Wilbur’s soft voice asked, gently pulling me from my thoughts. “I don’t know” I answered with a hiccup. “Maybe… What’s a period?” 

The jingle of keys sounded from the hallway as I assume Techno returned with the key that would let Wilbur in. “Can I come in?” yep I was right. “Yeah,” I sniffed quietly, reaching up and wiping the tears away from my cheeks. I had already screamed bloody murder and scared the hell out of my brother, he might as well see me like this. 

“Techno, run to the store and get some pads and medicine would you?. I’ve already texted Niki and asked what to get, she’ll send you a list or some pictures… Please” Wilbur asked softly, still in the hallway. My heart melted slightly at the words. He texted Niki? To ask her what to get? I knew he couldn’t text dad because of work, I just didn’t expect him to ask him to ask Niki instead. 

The soft click of the door unlocking echoed through the bathroom before the door opened just a crack, enough to let my curly haired brunette brother in before the door clicked closed again. Wilbur kept his eyes focused on the ground as he shuffled over to the cabinet, grabbed a towel, before offering it to me. “Here, in case you want to cover yourself.” He said softly. My fingers gently wrapped around the fabric before unfolding it and placing it over my lap, making sure that everything was covered. “Okay. You can look now,” I told him, my voice equally as soft. 

Wilbur’s eyes lifted from the floor to my face, allowing me to see the soft blush that coated his cheeks. “I’m sorry that dad isn’t here to help you with this,” he apologized awkwardly causing me to shrug. “It is what it is… Do you know what a period is?” I asked, hoping to get some answers. The blush intensified on Wilbur’s face as he nodded at the question. “Can you explain it to me… I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to it’s just-” Wilbur held up a hand cutting me off before I could ramble more, “It’s okay, Y/N. I can explain it to you.” 

And so he did. Wilbur took the time to carefully explain what the hell was happening to my body. He was extremely patient with me as I asked questions, trying to understand. Wilbur did a really great job that by the end I felt a bit more satisfied with my understanding of my own body. 

“How do you feel now?” Wilbur asked softly once our little conversation was over. “Fine… Better… But still a bit gross. I think there’s a bit of blood… everywhere down there ya know?” I answered honestly, again already wayyyyy past the point of being embarrassed. Wilbur let out a small chuckle and shook his head, “No. I don’t know. I’ve never had a period before.” The two of us shared a laugh about that. “But, I could run you a bath if you wanted,” he offered up, pointing to the tub. I gave him a soft smile and a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks bubby.” 

Wilbur quickly turned around and began running the water. Once he was sure the temperature was just right, he put in the drain plug, put in my favorite bubble bath, and turned back around and headed to the exit. “Wait” I called out, stopping him. “Could you… Could you stay? Please? Like sit on the floor looking the other way? I just… don’t want to be alone right now.” Wilbur’s gaze softened as he nodded, “Of course kiddo.” 

Wilbur looked away as I stripped out of my pajama shirt and bloody pajama bottoms and slipped into the bath. Keeping his eyes trained on the ground, he sat next to the tub, but completely faced forward so he couldn’t see me. I let out a content sigh as I sunk into the warm bubble filled water, the ache and pain in my stomach slowly fading away as the warm water soothed the muscles. 

We were silent for the most part, just enjoying each other’s company. At one point there was a knock on the door. Wilbur quickly got up to answer it. The rustling of a plastic bag sounded throughout the tiled room letting me know that Techno had returned from the store. “Techno got the stuff. I can show you how to put the things on if you want.” I was slightly surprised at the offer. I didn’t expect Wilbur to know how to be able to do that… Then again, he’s Wilbur of course he knows how, he knows how to do just about everything. 

But I agreed and so Wilbur picked up the underwear that Techno had also brought and carefully showed me how to apply the pad to the undies before gently setting it back on the counter. I mentally laughed at the situation we were in. Never would I have thought I’d be here, in a bathtub while my big brother Wilbur, showed me how to put on a pad. But here we are… Funny how life is like that sometimes. 

Once I was ready to get out, Wilbur handed me a towel before finally leaving the bathroom to give me some privacy while I dried off and got dressed. I did so quickly, carefully putting on the undies so as to not disturb the pad… okay that sounded weird haha. But I silently thanked Techno for picking out my favorite sweatpants for me to change into. I almost cried at the shirt he picked out for me. It was one of Wilbur’s hoodies. The one that was even too big for him, so that when I pulled it on it swallowed me whole and encased me in his scent. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath at the calming aroma. Even though I don’t always show it, I really do love my brothers. 

Leaving the bathroom, no one was in the hallway so I made my way down to the living room. Again, tears pricked in my vision at the sight. Pizza and soda were laid out on the coffee table with plates and cups sitting next to them. My brother’s sat on the couch in front of it, chatting softly. “You guys didn’t have to do this” I spoke softly causing all of their heads to snap to me. “We know… We wanted to” Wilbur told me gently. “Speak for yourself. I was a part of this for me!” Tommy jumped in, reaching forward and grabbing a plate, piling it high with pizza, before sitting back and stuffing his face. Wilbur elbowed him for the rudeness, but I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course Tommy would say that. “Come, sit. Eat” Techno said, holding his hand out beckoning me forward. I wasn’t going to argue with that. 

I settled between Wilbur and Techno with a plate of pizza and a cup half filled with my favorite soda. I didn’t eat as fast as I normally would, not wanting to get eating cramps on top of the other cramps that would soon occur. But the four of us sat there on the couch together for a while. At one point, Tommy jumped up and put on a movie. After that, it was an unannounced and unofficial lazy day. 

We were on the couch the whole day watching movies, only leaving to go to the bathroom or get food from the kitchen. At one point, the cramps began. Wilbur noticed my wincing and quickly jumped to get the cramp medicine that Techno had picked up. He put the pills in my hand and explained how often I could take it before also giving me a drink. After taking the medicine, I laid on my brother’s. My feet resting in Techno’s lap, my middle in Wilbur, and my head in Tommy’s. 

At first, Tommy complained, claiming he didn’t want to cuddle, but when I tried to move, his hand quickly found it’s way in my hair and scratched my scalp soothingly. “I guess you can stay here” he grumbled in distaste, but I could tell he felt really happy about being included. Wilbur’s warm hands rested on my stomach and slowly began to make soothing circles, easing the cramping muscles. Techno’s hands began to work wonders on my feet as he subsciously gave me a foot rub. With all that affection and warmth, it was no wonder I fell asleep. 

That’s how Philza found us that night when he came home from work. The gentle calling of my name woke me from my sleep. I carefully peeled my eyes open and found my father’s soft complexion smiling at me softly as he sat kneeled in front of me, his hand petting down my hair softly. “Hey kiddo. I hear you had a pretty big day today.” He whispered softly. I let out a small hum as I looked around and found that I was still lying across my brother’s laps, all of them still asleep. “How did you--” “Techno texted me when he went to the store. I’m sorry for not being here for it and I’m really really sorry I didn’t educate you better before it happened either,” Dadza apologized, looking genuinely sorry for it. “It’s okay… Wilbur did a pretty good job at taking care of me…” I informed him. Philza’s gaze flickered from my face to his oldest middle child, “Yeah? Of course he did. I always know I can count on him… I was going to offer to order pizza for dinner but it seems I’m a little late.”

 I giggled softly at that as Dadza looked around at the empty pizza boxes still laying on the coffee table. “Yeah… But we could get Chinese,” I offered up slyly, hoping he’d agree. His chuckle told me everything I needed to know, “Chinese it is… I’m going to let you nap a bit. I have some work I have to do, but once I’m done I’ll put the order in… Sound good?” “Sounds good,” I confirmed. Dadza gave me another smile before leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead, “I love you so much honey,” “I love you too dad.” Dadza paused for a moment more before standing up, removing his hand from my head and leaving the living room. 

I let out a small content sigh before carefully rolling over and snuggling myself closer to my brothers. One of them let out a groan, Techno I think, but settled immediately, letting me burrow even closer to them. 

Periods suck. There is no doubt about it. They hurt and stain your clothes and can be embarrassing and make you feel overly emotional. But I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. My brother’s dropping everything to help me. Wilbur getting over his embarrassment to take care of me. Techno getting over his social anxiety to go out and buy me things. Tommy getting over his obnoxiousness so I could relax with all of my brothers… No I wouldn’t change this for anything. 

There you go! I really hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like, maybe even a reblog or reply telling me your favorite part!!!

[superphantom]

Enthralled with the idea of Danny from Danny legit dies and has a physical corpse but can still kinda be human au and the Winchesters from just regular canon bumping into each other while... hiding bodies.

Three teens carrying a fourth by his arms and legs into the woods. Would they even be able to tell that it’s Danny’s corpse? It’s gotta be pretty much cooked through at that point. Hold on, I’m going to write something rq, apologies for any mistakes/bad writing but the concept is just too fun. If you think so too, go ahead and try your hand at it, this has so many excellent interpretations.

Edit but not really cuz I haven’t actually posted anything yet: I’ve only read back through this once but I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out, just wanted to add a quick warning for horrific death and descriptions of a corpse and all that. 

--

Digging graves always sucked, naturally. It’s hard to plow through a good six feet of rocks and dirt and bones and whatever other crap might be waiting below the surface (one time, in some backwoods in Ohio they’d hit a bathtub around three feet down. Never got an explanation for that one). But, of course, the muggy pits of July made things much worse.

Sam had shed his top layer in the car, and was now down to a single shirt. He probably would’ve taken that off too, had it not been glued onto his back from sweat. Dean, who’d made a dig at Sam earlier that night for not being able to “take the heat like a man” still wore his flannel over his shirt, though it was beginning to soak through.

Laborious elements aside, what really made grave digging so tedious was the inability to fill it with anything else. It wasn’t like they could play music or anything, when they were in graveyards they had to keep a low profile, and all the other smart places to go hiding a corpse don’t get radio reception. And talking? With the amount of dust and dirt they kicked up, not to mention the work itself, it was more like trying to reason with a bully as they threw sand in your face. Gritty, painful, and overall, not worth it. So the brothers dug side by side with only light from a half-dead camping lantern and the singing of insects to keep them company.

Sam hit a rock with the tip of his shovel to knock it loose from the wall, the scooped it up and heaved it over the side of the grave. It was still only about knee height, meaning they’d have to put in another two hours minimum if they wanted to get the man hidden.

He’d been working with a witch to dodge death as he cheated his way through some shady business dealings. Actually, he’d been fairly easy to subdue- probably why he needed the witch in the first place- but once Dean had yanked the hexbag from where it hung around his stick-figure neck he’d begun to convulse and when he stopped, well, he wasn’t going to start convulsing again. That, however, was a problem for tomorrow.

Sam knocked a few rocks loose this time, letting them pile around his feet then launching them all over his shoulder at once. With the sound of metal clacking against rock gone, he realized Dean had stopped digging and was leaning against the handle of his shovel cautiously looking out into the woods. Sam moved in next to him and tried to figure out where he was looking.

“What are y-“ he asked. Dean shushed him before he could finish, then signaled for him to listen and pointed just past a thick bramble, to a gap between two trees. It would’ve been impossible to spot without years of hunting experience, out about 100 yards away were little moving. They weren’t even shadows, it was simply just movement in the dark. “Dude-“

Dean shushed him again, and shot him a dirty look before pointing more forcefully in the direction of the movement and focusing back in place. He gestured once again for Sam to listen. For a few moments they stood in silence, barely breathing. It was faint, but Sam began to make out what was unmistakably English. a dull beam of light swung around towards them then went back to facing the other direction, effectively re-blacking out the figures. Sam reached back, not taking his eyes off the movement, and now occasional glimpses of light, and snapped off the lantern.

It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Once they could see each other again, Dean tilted his head to the left, pointed a few times with two fingers in a two directions then held one finger against his mouth. Sam nodded and they both began creeping in opposite directions with the intention of surrounding who or what was having a chat out in the woods at night.

Sam moved as if he were gliding above the forest floor. He could vaguely make out Dean doing the same, though he was now could see Dean about as well as he’d been able to see the... three? He hovered further. Definitely three people (or, by his guess witches), earlier. Now that he was getting closer, though, he began to take note of a few things.

There were three short witches(?) standing fanned out around something slumped on the forest floor, their dying halogen flashlight held limp in one of their hands, flickering sadly. The witch farthest from flashlight-witch and closest to Sam held a shovel, though didn’t make any moves to use it. None of them moved, they all just stood there and stared at whatever was at their feet.

He signaled to Dean that he was going to go in from the front. He was pretty sure he saw the shadows nod to him, so he took that as an okay. Like a mouse on cotton, he positioned himself just far enough into the forest that they couldn’t quite see, Dean doing the same but behind them.

“I- What do we do?” the one holding the flashlight muttered. His nose was awfully clogged, it sounded like he’d been crying.

“I don’t know, Tuck.” The one holding the shovel answered. She also sounded upset, but more like she was doing everything she could to push back tears, a tone that Sam knew very well. “Danny, are you sure you wanna do this?”

The one in the middle, Danny, shook his head. Each of his arms reached across his middle, like he was trying to hug himself, or maybe more like he was trying to make himself look small, trying to hide. “I-“ his voice cracked and he let out a few sobs. The leaves and sticks made a simultaneous crack as he fell down onto his knees, folding over himself and shaking with pure, cutting sorrow.

Flashlight, or Tuck apparently, and Shovel got down beside him, hugging him from either side. They held one another and sobbed, one of them, Shovel, creaking out some pained “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”’s between wordless wails. From the looks of them, they couldn’t be more than 12 years old. Or maybe they could, Sam wasn’t a pediatrician. They were undoubtedly much too young to be in the middle of nowhere, all alone in a fragile mental state doing who-knows-what.

Sam looked to Dean then gestured with his head to let him know he was going to talk to the kids. Dean shook his head and violently gestured with his gun at the kids. Wait. Not /at/ the kids, beyond them. He’d neglected studying the white-wrapped body in front of them. That explained the tears. He couldn’t help but feel for them, even though for all he knew they’d just murdered someone in cold blood. He looked back to Dean and nodded, then signaled again.

Keeping his gun at the ready, but tucking it behind his back he slowly and deliberately stepped out of the trees, intentionally making noise so they’d see him coming. Tuck looked up with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Danny and Shovel tensed but didn’t further acknowledge him.

“Um, hey,” he said, trying his best for nonthreatening and landing at the border of creepy and awkward. “Are you guys good?”

Tuck’s eyes flooded with tears, but he got up on shaky legs, trying to pull Danny and Shovel up with him. They weakly joined him, leaning against one another for support. Despite the warm night, all three were trembling.

“I’m, uh, I’m not here to hurt you,” Sam started, not really sure where he was going with this, “I’m Sam Winchester, what are your names?”

Tuck gave him the same watery stare he’d had the whole time, like Sam was the saddest thing he’d ever seen. Shovel looked up next, she was more angry. Maybe her smeared and ruined makeup should’ve made her look silly, but all it did was add to the aggression she exuded. He could see her squeezing both her friend’s shoulders and tugging them very slightly to the left, wordlessly signaling- or at least trying to- an escape plan. Sam pretended not to notice.

“I just wanna know what happened here,” he inched his way towards the corpse. As he got closer he could smell burnt hair and flesh, another thing he was all too familiar with. He didn’t break eye contact as he squatted down and gently pulled the sheet back from a tuft of what he assumed was hair.

He bit the inside of his cheek upon seeing the boy. Fried was the only word that could describe him. His mouth hung open, as did his eyes- or at least, what was left of them. Ooze had dribbled from every orifice and re-solidified in horrible mauve blobs. His hair was barely more than a charred mess, his skin was peeling and bubbled in places, and so discolored Sam could barely make out the dusting of freckles across his nose. This was a death in agony if he’d ever seen one.

He folded the cloth back over the boy’s head and straightened up, pulling the gun from where it had waited behind his back.

“Alright,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna need some answers.”

Danny looked up, letting Sam properly see his face for the first time. His red-rimmed eyes widened at the sight of the gun, lips tightening into a thin line. It was a look of fear and resignation. He ran the back of his hand across his nose. Sam noticed a dusting of freckles on it. He looked to the sheet and then back to Danny, then checked once more.

“What the hell is going on here.” Sympathy gone, Sam allowed himself to posture intimidatingly. Whatever freaks these- these- these... freaks! were, they weren’t about to get away with cooking some kid alive. “Talk.”

The “or I’ll shoot” was silent, but understood. Danny cleared his throat, one hand rubbed nervously on the back of his neck.

“It- I-“ he stuttered, then in a barely audible trembling voice he said, “I, uh, I think I’m dead.”  

[noodlepai]

(OKAY okay so I've come to provide more information on the AU, I'm still working on it a lot so things might change or be added but I got a basic idea of what things are like rn !!)

Info dump moment rn, also TW for slight trauma mentions/hints

• Sam had managed to save the Wii from melting itself all those years ago, and is a pretty big person on tech, so she likes to experiment and try new things, and actively tries to help Eteled out or transfer him through devices so he isn't just stuck in one place all the time, with lots of trial and tons of error, especially since she knows the Wii's getting old and that it can be unstable occasionally with glitches

• Kyle has also taken a liking to learning more about technology through Sam's influence so he sometimes comes over and they both will just study and brainstorm ideas

• Sam moved out of her home and now lives in her own apartment, is in college to pursue her dream of working around and creating technology, hasn't really considered making a job out of it since she mostly does it for fun and likes to achieve her dream goals, Nathan and Kyle also occasionally visit to just hang out and do whatever, usually resulting in the three staying up very late into a movie or game night, and Eteled having to talk Sam into getting sleep for the next morning

• Even though Sam is big on all tech, consoles and video games, she still has a soft spot for old generation consoles in particular

• Sam, Nathan and Kyle had all gotten pretty close growing up so they're like a dumbass trio /lh

• Will moved out of state or some shit

• Kyle wakes up from his villain arc and makes a truce with Eteled /J.. FR though Kyle softens up and becomes more understanding of Eteled's side after they start talking it out, while what happened did bother him at the time all those years ago, he just kinda grew up to the point where it didn't have such of an effect on him anymore, I mean all he saw was a Mii get slice and diced, no need to go beast mode over it, so they forgive each other of the past

• Kyle and Nathan are besties to homosexuals, homie love

• Sam made a Mii of herself from when she was younger to keep Eteled company when going out or having to attend school, Eteled appreciated it but wouldn't wanna admit how it wasn't the same and about how much he would miss Sam when she had to get off the Wii

• Gives Eteled abandonment issues because I love being evil

• He's actually clingy on the inside but would never admit it to anyone

• Also views Sam as a sort of daughter figure besides just a friend but is too nervous to mention it, he wants Sam to be safe, loves whenever she talks or rants to him about anything or shows him something she made or is proud of, or even just anything at all, father Eteled is proud of his child/bestie

• He like, genuinely feels loved around her and would definitely cry about it but would never show it, or at least try not to

• Eteled has the favorite Mii pants because Sam put them on him, with quote "I think it's about time my best friend gets to rock a new style", and yes it did make him almost cry on the spot

• Austin is like, mentally conflicted as hell

• Austin and Eteled both feel guilty for what they've done to each other over the years, aren't sure they can or are ready to forgive the other but they're very slowly learning to tolerate each other

• They're like enemies to kinda friends in a way

• They're traumatized mfs

• They still sometimes fight but it's usually just yelling or saying shit now, they don't do the chair, deletion or axe really anymore since they at least got to the point where they respect each other's boundaries and triggers, and there's no point to keep doing the same old for over 10+ years, for the most part, they still slip up sometimes

• They do fuck up though occasionally so that's why Eteled has scars and Austin is a bit more bashed up

• They still have a rooted dislike for each other they're trying to get over but they sometimes chill out or talk, usually when Sam is asleep or off the Wii for a while, the two just will maybe visit or sit around to at least try to understand the other better

• Sam knows Austin is still around, and it took a while but with time she grew to accept him when he didn't seem like a big threat anymore, and that he was just as important of a soul as Eteled was, she still didn't like the fights and didn't know the full story

• She'd probably section them away from the other with a child gate if she could

• Austin of course has an ego and would never tell another soul that he has many nightmares of the server room and about what happens if he gets caught off guard or is sleeping when Eteled decides to attack him again, Eteled wouldn't do that, and Austin knows it but it's just the deep rooted fear he can't get rid of, even though he's much taller and technically more powerful than the smaller Mii

• Eteled is just tired, usually just sleeps in the Mii channel, especially when under stress or tires himself out if he's going through a moment, like triggered memories or emotions

• From all the deleting and the chair, and more crap from his early life, Eteled is just terrified of it all so even the idea of them scares the fuck out of him, so as a natural response he just tries to defend himself with his axe even if he would be shaking like a chicken, he really tries not to pull it out but he can't always stop himself

• The axe itself would probably also bother Austin a bit, but he would still try to cautiously calm Eteled down since he knows he's just afraid, so afterwards they'd probably have to awkwardly apologize for what the fuck happened at that very moment

• Sam sometimes offers them both to play a game together with her, or plans on playing with Eteled and invites Austin along, as a way to make them bond, they do end up having some fun though

• Eteled has seen and/or been around or within newer Nintendo consoles, but personally prefers being in the Wii since he's used to it the most, and it's the most comfortable and homey to him

• Oh yeah, if Austin or Eteled is having an episode or is deeply upset then the other will try to help sometimes if it's really bad, Austin tries to hide it more but it doesn't always work, yeah they have reasonable reasons to not like the other, but they aren't complete assholes

• They both got trauma memories and aren't gonna just watch the other suffer through it

• Austin may or may not have taken in what Eteled had said all that time ago about "Learning to move past the past", even though that technically makes Eteled a hypocrite when he's constantly beating himself up about shit mentally, even after years, they are both doing it tbh

• Also Kyle doesn't know about Austin 100% but is curious to know his story and who he is and used to be, and how he got in the Wii, especially after the passing of his family member of the same name, little does he know..

• Sam also doesn't know about any of it, neither Sam or Kyle know of what happened or Austin's story, Austin being in a tight spot since he doesn't wanna reveal his identity yet, knowing the possible reaction, for Eteled's sake, Sam's and especially Kyle's, and Eteled being absolutely fucking terrified since the fear of losing someone like Sam could become real, and the small but growing friendship he was slowly making with Kyle could go right back to hatred and wanting the small Mii deleted, not including the fact that he still eats at himself for his past actions so it being brought back up again would be a ✨mess✨

• Austin doesn't know if he forgives Eteled or not, but wants to try to move past it and not be reminded in any way

• Nathan is still a little lowkey scared of Eteled ngl, doesn't wanna upset him or anything and Eteled can tell, he probably sighs to himself but he can't blame the guy

• Kyle has thought about making another Mii of himself on what is now long been Sam's Wii, now that he's older and him and Eteled are rather chill, but decided against it since he wasn't sure, not because he didn't trust Eteled, but because he figured it could potentially remind the Mii of the past, so whenever he plays on it he just uses Eteled

(That's all I can really recall on the top of my head for now, whenever I remember more or add on things I'll probably make a new post about it)

[angelkurenai]

You’re magic, baby - Dean Winchester x Reader (Bodyguard AU)

Title: You’re magic, baby

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Word count: 4,525

Warnings: Language, Sexual tension, Voyeurism (I think)

Summary: The sexual tension between you and your bodyguard has always been too thick, you thought there would come a point when it would all explode right in your faces. Couldn’t go any further. That is, until you figured out it could. And while Dean is helping you put on a dress for an event, standing in front of the mirror you get a few ideas about how you could find other ways to use it.

“I swear, I honestly swear to you, one of these days I am going to call your manager and tell him you're going to be taking a break from all of this. No more Oscars, no red carpets, no late night shows no more any of it.” you heard he gruff voice of your bodyguard as you fixed the strap of your heels.

“I see.” you smiled to yourself “And how long do you plan for this break to last exactly?”

“Hmm maybe the rest of your life? Or maybe the rest of mine. Whatever gets the job done.” you heard a heavy sigh come from him “I'm in desperate need of vacation. Especially from joining you to this bloody show for the fourth time. Who knows what I'm going to have to witness tonight.”

“Aw darling.” you appeared from you walk-in closet, smiling at him “If you wanted to go on vacation with me, all you had to do is ask. It's not like I'd ever say no to showing you the lovely bikinis I bought three months ago.”

“You really have no mercy left for me anymore, do you?” he mumbled gruffly, shaking his head before running a hand down his face.

“Why? What else did I do?” you asked in disbelief “It's not like I made you come with me for swimwear or anything! I knew you would protest so I didn't even ask, what's the-”

“Yeah, and I guess I should thank my lucky stars for being spared one heart attack out of a thousand.” he said sarcastically before shaking his head “I wasn't talking to you, no. I was talking to whoever out there that could listen.” he looked up at the ceiling as you giggled at his dramatic stance “So that maybe they could take pity on me and give me one, just one calm night.”

“And?” you asked with a grin, moving towards your dresser “Any luck with that?”

“Well-” his eyes finally landed on you, as if he had almost been holding back from doing that or at least preparing himself for what sight could await him was he to look at you tonight “Taking a look at the dress-” he shrugged “Looks like they're having a fit at the moment. And my life and what I am currently going through is the joke.” he sigh and shook his head “What are you wearing?”

“Oh you like it?” you asked with a hopeful smile “It's called a slip dress.”

“Yeah oh trust me I know perfectly well what it's called. What I'm asking is why are you wearing it?”

“Why not? Because it shows a little more skin? I didn't take you for a prude, Dean.” you shook your head “Besides, I've been forever meaning to get one but after all that filming I was so tired that only now I got the chance to wear it. Sophie was wearing a lovely pink one the other day in case you not-”

“I don't care what your friend's been doing. I don't care what any other actress does, to be honest. I'm not their bodyguard, I'm yours and I am spending all of my day with you and not them. So how about appreciate it a bit by wearing something less-”

“Less what?” you looked at him a little disappointed and he almost felt his heart sink “Don't you like it?”

Less what, really? How could he put it into words?

How could he even put into words the fact that the fabric made you look nothing short of a goddess? How could he even put into words that the fabric was soft, a beautiful shiny silk that seemed to bring out a special kind of glow in you? A glow that he loved to take in whenever he saw; when you were happy and laughing, when you were carefree and singing, when you were basking in the sun in spring. A glow that came from within and could easily make heads turn, capturing any man's attention much to Dean's dismay. The fabric seemed to glide over every curve and edge of your body, making them stand out in the most beautiful way. Your skin looked alluring, to say the least, smooth and almost made of a softer material than that of the dress itself; begging for a touch. And the cut, the shapes the fabric took over your body, showing all the parts of your body that Dean had guiltily dreamed so many times about kissing. It showed much more skin than he would like for you to show on any occasion but at the same time he couldn't deny he saw how good you felt in it and therefore couldn't say no to you wearing it.

You looked ethereal. That was the word. That was the only word he could come up with, but never one he would use (never had found a reason to until now, that is) and therefore would earn a look or two. And not being ready yet to explain how undeniably alluring you were to him, he decided it was best not to put anything into words whatsoever.

“No it's uh-” he sighed and shook his head again “It's wonderful, sweetheart. And it looks great on you, actually. You're... you're stunning. I'm sorry.” such an understatement but he could never really tell you his opinion, no matter his feelings “It's just that you maybe, just maybe, could wear something less... Well, something with less chances of giving poor old me a heart attack? I'm barely surviving any these days.”

“Oh Dean, come on. You've survived worst.” you giggled, joking along “Besides, I'm sorry but this is actually a gift from Gal. She gave me this dress a long time ago and I really wanted to thank her by wearing it for a special occasion, you know?”

“Oh lovely.” Dean breathed out a bit sarcastically “So Gal hates me too, now.”

“She doesn't hate you, you silly.” you giggled again, turning to face the mirror on top of your dresser “Now, could you please help me with the straps? These two tie at the back, to keep it in place.” the moment you turned to reveal the nearly bare back he could swear the air got caught in his throat but he also knew you were watching him through the mirror so he kept his composure.

“Oh yeah, then explain the assassination attempt against me with this dress.” he muttered, half playfully and half... well, honestly, mostly trying to keep it together.

You snorted, shaking your head as you tried on different rings “You're so melodramatic sometimes, honestly maybe you should be the actor instead of me. But then again, that's why I love you this much.”

It took every bit of concentration and self-restrain in Dean not to show any reaction. Even if your words made his heat jump to his throat, even if shivers run down his spine and even if his hands, heavens his entire body, trembled as a result of hearing you say it again. He might look frozen on the spot but that still was a lot better than showing to you just how much it affected him; him and his treacherous heart.

“Dean?” your voice was barely above a whisper, indicating that maybe he wasn't so successful this time “Everything ok? Are you alright? I didn't-” you paused before you sighed softly “I'm s-”

“No” his voice came out gruff as if he had not spoken for days, but he had to stop you before you apologized. Because he knew that if you were to say you were sorry then it would be the breaking point for him. He'd just gather you in his arms right then and there and tell you he loved you too, and that was the last thing he needed right now. “No just-” he sighed, letting his head rest on your bare shoulder for just a few seconds.

“I was thinking-” he huffed a laugh, feeling proud for how genuine he sounded, and when he looked up again he tried to look just as casual as well “This really wasn't part of any of the training I did. Tell this to any other bodyguard and I bet you anything, they're gonna be jealous as hell. I mean, I can certainly think of a couple old friends who would. But above all else-” he almost grinned and took pride in ow convincing he looked when he saw his reflection in the mirror “I remember an ol' trainer of mine who preached about being able to put together a gun from scratch as if my life depended on it. If only he knew how much more scary it is to put together the laces of a dress like this. Talk about life and death situation.”

He had never felt more proud of himself, if not relieved, than the moment he heard your laugh and saw your shoulders relax. It wasn't your fault that everything was so complicated between the two of you, as it was certainly not your fault that Dean felt the way he did about you. He almost let out a sigh of relief himself but held it back in the end.

“More scary than putting out a bomb, that's for sure.” you grinned at him through the reflection “Imagine the headlines this will make if those straps fail to stay in place and the dress falls too loose. Maybe more than what deactivating a bomb would earn.”

“You can say that a-” Dean started, his eyes focused on making a second knot on those straps just for extra measure, before he paused mid-movement. He looked up again to see your reflection and narrowed his eyes at you “Please tell me that you didn't mean what I think you meant.”

“Depends on what you were thinking I meant.” you asked with a small innocent shrug that he didn't trust at all. But was maybe a bit thankful too because it took the conversation in a far different direction which that, at least, he knew how to handle.

“(Y/n)” his voice was warning “Please, just please, tell me that you are wearing some form of underwear underneath this. I don't care if it's even that weird magic sticky horror-stuff thingy you call a bra. I'll take anything at this point. Please.”

“It is a bra, Dean, and it doesn't work by magic. It's just as you said a bit sticky so that it doesn't need any straps.” you said casually and he rolled his eyes, not caring to know how it worked in the first place not when he'd freaked out the first time he saw it in your clothes and thought a murder took place, and not when this time he feared- “Either way, no bra is involved though, no. I kinda like it better like this.”

“Seriously?” his eyes widened and you shrugged once more before he let out a heavy breath, rolling his eyes upward “No mercy at all!” he shook his head before looking back at you “And then you wonder why I hate you attending events. I don't know if I'll even make it through the night, that's why. I'd even ask you to wear something on top but like hell you're gonna make it easier for me here.”

“Oh stop it you big baby. And are you done with that or what? What's taking you forever?”

“Just wait some more, will you? My very own sanity, if not will to live, is hanging by these two threads. I have to add another knot just to be sure.” he let out a long sigh, not informing you of how distracting everything else was, before he added a small bow in the end “There.” he breathed out, looking up again before bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders and give a squeeze “You're perfect.”

“Not really, but thanks. I mean-” you sighed, offering him a soft smile “If you see me even a little bit like that, then it's all I need.”

He held your gaze through the mirror for a couple more seconds, a barely visible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He wasn't sure what to say but he realized a couple seconds later that he didn't need to speak. He nodded his head and, instead, leaned down and kissed your shoulder blade; every bit of doubt, every sense of logic and the small voice in the back of his head that reminded him he shouldn't be doing this because he worked for you, was gone at that moment. He was guilty for doing it as much as he was for enjoying it, specially the feeling on your skin under his lips.

“Anything else you need help with, princess?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“Well, I uh-” you bit your lower lip and lifted up a necklace “Thought I'd wear this as well?”

“You got it.” he took the piece of jewllery from your hands, working fast on it after taking a peak at you through the mirror “Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh nothing in particular.” you shrugged far too innocently for his liking “Just, you know, really enjoying this hotel and this room. Maybe we should make ourselves regulars here.”

“Mhhm” he hummed, waiting for the bomb to drop as he helped you with a coat too.

“Everything is lovely, from the room service to the bed, best sleep I've had in a while, to the bathroom. That bubble bath did wonders. It's all incredible, really. But then again it's maybe cause I had more free time than I usually get. To the point...” you trailed off for a moment and Dean knew it was close “That some things got me thinking.”

“Oh really? Thinking about what?”

“Oh you know, mostly silly things. I mean, for example I've been really looking at this mirror and you know how one thoughts lead to another and then another and you end up remembering something embarrassing you did in high school in front of your crush?” you rambled casually while Dean only frowned in confusion “So as I was saying I was looking at this wonderful mirror and thinking-”

“Will you just get to it?”

“You know about how some people don't look good in photos or in the mirror. You certainly look good in a mirror is all I'm noticing now and I was thinking that maybe-”

“(Y/n)” he meant to sound warning but was only heard as soft exasperation.

“Have you ever done it in front of a mirror, Dean?” you asked so simply, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Catching Dean really off guard, probably more than any other time. His head snapped up and he met your eyes through the mirror, his own impossibly wide, especially as you gave him a curious smile. “You know, had sex with a woman while in front of a mirr-”

“Aaaand we're done here.” he let go of the coat, spinning around to grab his own belongings and your bag while shaking his head in disbelief “Let's go.”

“Dean”

“Nope. Come on, chop chop. One feet in front of the other and no more words out of you for the rest of the way to the studio.” he ignored you. Much like he could easily ignore the topic altogether.

“But I only asked a ques-”

“What did I say?” he gave you a pointed look which only made you have to fight a smile off your face “No. Words. And that was certainly much more than just a question. You've had enough. Hell, I've had enough. Move, come on. We're gonna be late.”

“Fine.” you sighed “But if you didn't wanna answer it, you could've just said so.”

“I'm not getting paid enough to answer that, (Y/n). Hurry up.” he stood by the now open hotel room door and tapped his foot.

Rolling your eyes you grabbed your phone which was still laying on your bed and the keycard. It was only on the way to the door you noticed the drink and bag of baked goods he had gotten for you. Knowing how he'd never let you hear the end of it if you didn't eat anything until you were done, you made sure to grab them as well.

“Alright, I'm ready Dean-o. Let's go.” you said though your words came out muffled, making him look up from his phone to see you holding the keycard in your mouth, which he made a face at.

“I've told you so many times. Don't put that think in your mouth, you don't even know where else it's been.” he huffed, taking the card from you.

“Tell that to the people who make women's clothing and include no pockets. This coat is worth thousands and yet fake pockets!” you shrugged before giving him a small smile “Besides, I thought you'd like it when I put things in my mouth. Then again, I suppose it might depend on the occasion.”

“You know what, (Y/n)?” he spun around to face you, small smile on his lips before it vanished with his next words “You're right. It does depend on the object.” he gave you a somewhat dark look which made you raise an eyebrow, feeling the pleasant shivers run down your spine at the low and gruff voice of your bodyguard.

“Do I?” you asked softly and he hummed, approaching you. You held your ground even if it meant he could pin you on the wall, or maybe exactly because he could pin you on the wall, with his hands and body if he wanted to. The fact that anybody could walk in on you only added to the thrill.

“Mhm” he hummed, licking his lips; and oh your knees felt weak “Cause I really think there is one thing that those sweet lips of yours need. One thing I wouldn't object to, like with that damn card.”

“Oh there is?” your back hit the wall.

“Yeah.” now he bit his lower and you knew you could just as well be done in that moment, but he kept going “And you wanna know what I really think would go perfectly with that pretty mouth of yours that seems to find the most creative ways to torture me on a daily basis?” he wouldn't take his eyes off you and it only made the temperature of your body rise. If you wanted to shed every piece of clothing you had on then it was entirely his fault. It has always been.

“Please” it came out breathless “Y-yes.”

“A good... big... maybe even one of the biggest you've seen... hard to move...” his words made your eyes widened “Piece of tape over your mouth to keep your from talking for the sake of my poor and very fragile sanity! That's what I'd like to see and oh trust me, my ears would love the silence just as much!”

“And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere.” you made sure to look him straight in the eyes, wanting to get your point across. Dean couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

“If you mean anywhere but the studios, then I'm sorry but I'm not following.”

“Bunch of bullshit, Winchester, and we both know it. Cause I'm sure as all hell that if I were to ask you-” you took a step closer, taking a deep breath and holding his gaze for a few more seconds “If I were to ask you whether you would want to take me right here and now, consequences be damned, you would say yes. And you would because I know you want it, but you've convinced yourself that you never deserve any of it. That's the main difference between us, I know I may not be good enough for someone like you, but I want to give you the best of me and even more after that.”

Dean didn't say a thing for a good few seconds, preferring to hold your gaze and let your words sink in. Not for himself, but for you; because he knew how much you needed it. He knew how much you needed to let it out, at least once in a while. This game you were playing was far from it, he didn't even know how he was holding it together when in reality none of it was playful. When he knew real well what you meant to him.

He pursed his lips when he felt himself choke; your words of self-doubt hurting him more than pushing you back ever could. To think that you were the one not good enough for him was gut-wrenching.

We've made it clear that none of it can happen. We agreed on it, didn't we?

You shrugged, letting out a slow breath. You knew he wasn't going to talk about it. Not like it was the time or place to do so, you didn't even know why you had bothered bringing it up in the first place. But then again what should surprise you more was how you were still holding back.

“And I was ready to go along with it but then... the bathroom door was kinda open and I can't change what you do in your personal time, sure, just like I can't help what I hear.” you responded with a small smirk and a shrug, before raising an eyebrow “Can I, Dean?”

“You-” the way his eyes widened would have made for a priceless reaction as it was, but adding the way he stammered over his words and the fact that his face had turned the perfect shade of red, the color more evident on the tip of his ears, was indeed a sight for sore eyes that made everything worth it. “You- What- How- When-” his eyes moved back and forth, taking your expression in and trying to understand your expression if not the entire situation.

Granted, it was a one-time thing. Barely that actually. And it happened before you could even comprehend it. It was that quick. Not like anybody needed more than half a second to understand things for what they really were. But it didn't last long

Or did it?

Truth be told, you were still not sure just for how long you'd been standing there in the room, the warm steam coming from the bathroom, right through the the slightly open door, finding your skin only to create more goosebumps than the ones you already had. It could have been half a second... but it could have also been much much longer. Maybe the small tear on your lower lip from all the chewing was an indicator but then again a great part of you did not even want to consider it was a possibility. A possibility that you had not jumped to turn around and leave that very same second you realized things for what they were.

You took comfort in the fact that maybe if the roles were reversed he would have done the same. Or that anyone would have reacted as you and frozen in place. But was it that way? Were you merely frozen in place or there had really been more to it?

You didn't even want to think about it for more than a couple seconds for fear of remembering something that would have your entire face on fire in seconds. It was best not to dwell on it. So clearing your throat, you brushed off any thought for when his eyes weren't glued on you, studying your every move. You weren't going to let him get the upper hand in this, even if it was silly to still think so.

Besides, in your defense it was and accident. A lovely if not entirely surprisingly unexpected one.

“Depends... how often does that happen?” you raised an eyebrow, biting the inside of your lip to keep yourself from grinning. Ut the urge quickly died out when you saw Dean's eyes darken and his jaw clench. Not because he was angry, he could never be mad at you as you had come to realize very quickly, but because the comment seemed to bring him back to reality. A reality where he had convinced himself that you couldn't get attached to each other.

“None of your business. But even if it was-” he shrugged, smirking “Still more of an active sex life than yours.”

“Oh yeah, and whose fault is that?” you narrowed your eyes.

He only faked innocence “Don't know what you mean. I'm just the bodyguard.”

“...You're an asshole. That's what you are.” you huffed when he was out of your personal space, shaking your head in disbelief.

“And yet you pay me money. I'd call that a fucking success. Now move your ass, otherwise we're gonna be late.” he motioned with his head.

“Yeah, well that doesn't make you an less of an idiot. I know-” you shrugged, falling into step next to him “I'll get another bodyguard. Most celebrities have at least two bodyguards-”

“Good luck finding the guy with enough patience.”

“Yeah, well, if I do remember correctly, that “friend” of yours is currently not working for anybody. You said you were coworkers before. The cute one with the pretty eyes, what was his name? You know whom I mean, right? The one I first met on the Met Gala?”

Dean scoffed a laugh,playing it off as nothing, though it was mostly to hide the unpleasant shock tat ran through him at the mention of the possibility. Of course he understood which one you meant. “First of, he's not my friend. In fact he's far from it.”

“Oh how could I ever forget? You always speak so fondly of him.” you grinned at Dean who shot you another look. Last time he had spoken 'fondly' of the man was when he had complimented you. It was during the after-party of an event which he didn't care to remember; all formal events were the reason for a headache to say the least. He was there because his boss at the time also was invited.

“Fondly-” Dean scoffed under his breath “You can say that again.”

“Well, yeah that one. My-” you continued anyway, not paying attention to his words “Why can't I remember his name? What's up with me and remembering people's names?”

“Maybe he wasn't so important after all.” Dean shrugged.

“With that kind of smile and eyes to die for? Are you kidding me? That man is, no doubt, the wet dream of at least half the female population and a good part of the male one. He's more famous than his boss. Please, I'd strike every deal with the man just to see hi- Oh, yes!” you exclaimed, jumping for a second “Yes, Steve Rogers!... I think I got his phone, don't I, Dean?”

“Yeah, oh lucky me, you actually do.”

“Splendid! Maybe he will how to put his tie to good use, after all.”

~~~

A/N: I already had ome parts up which in a way inspired more of this fic, the whole au!Dean and flirting is somethingI would like to do more of, maybe with some smut since it’s been a while since I wrote any. The way I did with neighbor!Dean, a mini series of individualt parts. Let me know your opinion and feedback is always welcomed!

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

author-chan!! can i have angst of annie leonhardt' s/o leaving her after she confesses that she's the female titan:(((

also i wish you luck with your blog ٩( ᐛ )و

tHIS HURT ME TO WRITE, ANNIE DESERVES HAPPINESS!

On another note though, thank you! I’m having fun so far ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Oh, and to preface, this turned out a lot more angsty and violent than I had sort of planned in my head, so if you want something changed, I can easily go back and edit it.

Monster

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Slight violence, season 3 spoilers

Category: Angst

Summary: After finding out she is the Female Titan, Annie’s s/o leaves her, leaving her heartbroken and angry.

Words: 2.0K

The most recent scouting expedition was an absolute disaster.

You thought things were going well. One of your first scouting missions, and you had made it far into titan territory without much trouble.

But then, she appeared.

An abnormal for sure. Shown to be fast and agile, plus very intelligent, the Scouts stood no chance. She mindlessly ripped through your comrades in search of Eren, pushing all the way up to the forest, and wiping out almost all of the Levi squad.

Luckily, you were able to make it out of the mission relatively unscathed, physically anyway. Mentally, you were a mess. The experience messed you up for sure, you had never been more terrified of a titan before then. The fear of death that she instilled in you had shaken you to your core, and as soon as you were allowed to leave, you ran to the interior to find solace in your girlfriend, Annie.

Sneaking into the military police dormitories, as you had done many times before, you quietly pushed to the door open, poking your head in in search of the blonde.

You found her alone in bed, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. Her roommate, Hitch, was strangely absent. You wondered if she was getting ready for bed. It was a bit early, as the sun had just began to set, but you figured she may have just been tired.

She didn’t seem to notice you at first, which was unnatural of the usually extremely observant soldier. Still you paid no mind to it, calling out her name.

“Annie?”

She turned to face you, and a small smile graced her lips. But something was very off about it. The smile looked so... pained. Not fake, but pained. Like it hurt her just to smile.

“Can I come in?” You asked, just out of courtesy, since she looked like she had something on her mind.

She nodded, sitting up in her bed and patting the space next to her.

You climbed onto her bed, and the two of your shared a chaste kiss before you hugged her, burying your head in her shoulder. You inhaled slowly, taking in her calming, slightly sweet scent.

“I missed you...” You muttered.

She chuckled just a little, before wrapping her arms around you and falling backwards, pulling you with her so you were tucked into her side. “I missed you too...”

You snuggled closer into her chest, taking deep, relaxed breaths for the first time in days.

You laid in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before you finally started to talk about what had really been bugging you.

“The scouting mission was a disaster.” You said, slightly muffled into her chest. You could’ve swore you felt her breathing hitch and her muscles tense up at the mention of it.

You pulled your head out of her chest, not even waiting for her to beckon you to continue, deciding to keep talking anyway.

“There was this huge abnormal, and she was faster and smarter than any one I’ve ever seen before!” You cried out, not even bothering you control your voice. You needed this experience off of your chest as soon as possible. “She killed so many Scouts! I saw it all with my own two eyes, I thought for sure I was gonna die!” Tears formed in your eyes as you recounted the experience, images flashing through your head and screams ringing in your ears.

Your hands covered your eyes, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that bright colors seemed to flash over your vision as your eyebrows furrowed. Quiet sobs and sniffles escaped your lips.

After a moment, you realized Annie still hadn’t moved an inch. The Annie you know would’ve been shushing your cries and petting your hair, as she’s done so many times before, but right now, she didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyes fluttered wide open, and you bit your bottom lip to suppress your sobs. You shakily moved your head up to look at her. She was completely frozen, even her breathing had stopped momentarily, as she stared at the wall with wide, unmoving eyes. Her expression looked so mortified.

You gasped out loud as it finally clicked, your hands moving from your ears to cover your mouth, and your pure shock immediately stopped the flowing tears. All the pieces fell into place in your mind at once.

The expression on her face was recognizable anywhere. God, how did you not notice it before?!

Guilt.

Confused and panicked, you sat up and scampered to the opposite side of the bed, still in disbelief.

“A... Annie?” Your whisper was barely audible, but compared to the tense stillness of the room, she heard you perfectly. “Tell me it isn’t true...”

You had ignored it. You didn’t want to think about any of it. You didn’t want to think about how similar the female titan looked to her, or how the female titan had the same martial arts technique as her, or how strange she had been acting lately, especially now after the attack. You still clung to hope that, maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

She finally sucked in a breath harshly through her clenched teeth, lowering her head in shame and hiding her eyes from yours.

“I...” She whispered. The tone in her voice almost made you pity her. She sounded so sad, like a kicked puppy. The furrow in your brow softened, but you remained on guard until she finished her sentence.

“I’m so sorry... Y/n...”

At that moment, you felt a switch flip in your mind. This was no longer the Annie you knew. She wasn’t the Annie that would lean on you silently during mealtimes, or the Annie that would kiss you on the forehead when you woke up together, or the Annie that smiled lovingly whenever you told her that you loved her.

No, not anymore. This was a monster. She was a monster.

Burning rage and heartbreak coursed through your veins, taking over your body as you lost any control you may have had. She didn’t need to try to apologize. She didn’t deserve forgiveness.

You grabbed her by the shoulders, and before she even had the chance to react, you tackled her off of the bed and onto the creaky wooden floors of the dorm, landing on top of her with a loud thud.

She shut her eyes and winced in pain for a moment, but she opened them to look at you. As soon as her eyes met yours, you saw them widen with fear. Not fear for her safety, she could easily beat you in a fight if she wanted to. No, this fear was different, it was something she had feared since she first started to fall for you. And right now, it seems that fear was becoming reality.

“WHY?!” You screamed, still hovering over her. Despite your anger, your face appeared distraught, tears falling from your eyes and onto her cheeks. The tears she usually wiped away endearingly were now flowing from your eyes, and it was all because of her.

“This whole time, you pretended to love me, while you were really just our enemy? Do you have any idea how many died because of you?! What are you doing this for?! WHY, ANNIE, WHY?!”

Tears fell from Annie’s eyes as she struggled to form a coherent sentence.

You remained on top of her, waiting impatiently for an answer. “Well?!”

“I... Y/N please... I’m sorr-” Her sentence was cut off as you raised your fist and struck her in the nose with all your might. Her head flung to the side, blood already spurting from her face.

“Don’t give me that sorry bullshit! You aren’t sorry at all! You just want to save your hide!”

You sat up from your previous position, but your knees stayed grounded on the floor to either side of her. You stared at her, your expression broken and unremorseful.

“You’re a traitor...” Your voice dropped to a solemnly low pitch, and a pained, almost hysterical laugh ripped through your throat. You calmed down within moments, however, and stared into her eyes. If looks could kill right now, she would be dead on the floor in an instant.

“You stood there with us and swore to fight against the titans... and then you went on to kill your own comrades... do you feel no remorse?” You shook your head, looking away as if she didn’t even deserve your acknowledgement. “You never deserved to wear the uniform. You should never have joined the ranks.”

You stood up, heading for the door. You turned to look at her once again, only to see that she hadn’t moved an inch, her head still facing to the side, looking away from you.

“Tch.” You turned around, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open slowly.

“I can’t believe I thought I loved you,” You took a step out of the door. “You monster.”

---

Annie panted in front of the mirror, gripping the sides of the porcelain for support. The blood still leaked from her nose, the metallic taste making its way into her mouth and coating her tongue.

She looked at the mirror, and a stranger stared back. A stranger whose faced was still stained with tears. A stranger who was afraid. A stranger who, deep down, ached for her lover to return.

She should’ve known. Hell, Reiner warned her several times.

“I know you care about her, Annie, but you can’t get attached to, let alone involved with Y/N. It sacrifices the integrity of our mission as warriors.”

She winced at the memory, closing her eyes and trying to block it out. Still, his words wrapped itself around her brain.

“Besides, you know it well. We’re sinners, Annie. Monsters. We have a duty to serve, but that’s it. People will hate us simply for being born into this program, for inheriting our titans. Y/N is no different.”

She stared back into the mirror. The stranger who looked back had really believed that she could do it. That Y/N wouldn’t hate her when she inevitably found out her secret. How foolish, believing that she could be forgiven.

A sudden rush of anger and frustration washed over her, and her hand left the sink and struck the mirror in front of her. The reflection shattered, and the glass fell to the ground.

She didn’t bother to wash the blood off of her hand, or even pick the tiny shards of glass out of her hand before she punched the empty wall where the mirror used to be.

*POW*

She knew it, she always knew it, years before even being given her orders.

*POW*

Of course she knew it, how could she not?

*POW*

But she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

*POW*

She didn’t even want to think about it.

*POW*

She didn’t want it to be told to her face like that.

*POW*

And especially not by her.

*POW*

No matter how she faced it, she was just...

...

A monster.

---

She huffed in the midnight air as she ran, holding her limp right hand. It wouldn’t take a genius to look at it and tell immediately that she had shattered many of the bones in her fingers, but that didn’t matter right now. You knew her secret, and it wouldn’t be much time before you told the others.

She ran as fast as she could, skidding to a halt in front of the cabin that she unfortunately knew all too well.

---

Reiner awoke with a start, a painful sensation covering his chest. As he opened his eyes slowly, the blurry silhouette in front of him delivered another swift kick to his ribs. He groaned painfully as the silhouette began to clear.

“Annie?” Confusion and fatigue laced his speech heavily. Across the room, Bertholdt began to stir awake.

“Reiner,” She spoke. His eyes widened as he gazed into her eyes. The icy blue orbs appeared as though no one was behind them. She looked broken, as if a painful realization had shattered her entire world. “Get up. Now.”

“Huh?” He sat up, noticing her battered and bruised hand, only heightening his confusion.

“We’re going to go get Eren.” She spoke, an eerie monotony to her voice.

“Whether you like it or not,” She continued. “This mission ends today.”

SAAHFKSJHLDFSKHACKJH I NEVER WANT TO WRITE ANNIE IN PAIN AGAIN I FEEL SO BAD AAAAAAAAAAA

also, i put so much effort into this, but it feels really bad for some reason :|

Also I couldn’t write Annie punching the wall without comparing her to a Kyle™ lol.

Well, still, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should change anything.

[lilyharvord]

Do you in red queen univeres is like harry potter. The silvers are like the pureblood family. Mare is a newblood like being a muggles born witch and Julian is more like Dumbledor or the Weasley what do you think?

I'm gonna say the universe itself does seem to lend itself to those categories! Or sub-catagories! It also very easily lends itself to a Hogwarts AU! PREPARE FOR AN AU UNDER THE READ MORE

I mean, Mare seeing her favorite big brother Shade receive a super pretty envelope from this strange school saying he is a wizard and is being offered a position in that school? Going to Diagon Alley with her family and Shade picking out a owl, and old faded robes cause he family really can't afford anything else. Then her hugging him tightly as he has one foot on this strange train and one foot on the strange platform that they had to run through a brick wall to get to?! Holding his hand through the window and running along side the train as he promises to write her every week before she runs out of platform and has to stop as the train pulls away and he is waving and smiling wildly at her. Her little hand slowly falling from her wave to be by her side and she wishes desperately to be on that train with him? ONLY TO RECEIVE HER VERY OWN PRETTY LETTER THE NEXT SUMMER? She gets to do the whole process! And she has all these fantasies about what it will be like based on the letters Shade sent her all last year. She wants an owl, or a salamander, or something like that. And she want to play the strange quidditch game he mentions. She wants to run up and down staircases that change. When she gets on the train with him, she practically pulling out of her mom's arms, and almost forgets to hug a very upset Gisa goodbye.

On the train, Shade tells her all the details, introduces her to his friends: ketha (a second year like him), Ada (a sixth year), and Farley (a second year that Mare is incredibly intimidated by until she sees Shade heart eyeing her every two seconds).

They tell her about the houses. Shade is more than proud to be sorted into Hufflepuff even though Farley teases him about it and Ada only smiles at the whole thing. But they all get quiet about Slytherin. It's not a house you want to be in, Shade says quietly. Mare doesn't quite understand. Cunning? what's so bad about being that? Smart and quick witted? Hell, there's nothing wrong with it.

Then she meets them. The Slytherins. And she sees why she shouldn't be a part of that House. But then she meets the strange, dark haired, blue eyed boy at the back of the group with her, who tries to sit in a boat alone until Mare clambers in behind him, cursing the fact that her socks got wet and they're going to be gross and her shoes will squelch while she walks. He seems a little uncomfortable around her big personality until she introduces herself, and he smiles and shakes her hand, quietly introducing himself as Maven. Nothing more. Mare doesn't mind, loads of people don't give their last names.

Then she's in the Great Hall, underneath the Sorting Hat, Shade smiling at her like a fiend from the Hufflepuff table while Maven is already sitting at the Slytherin one, slouched and looking just a bit upset. (It's not what you think y'all. it's because CAL's a Gryfindor, and their dad was too and he still wants to get his fathers love, and he pretty much just CEMENTED the fact that he won't get it now.) Mare sees him, and the Sorting Hat huffs and says, making friends already? Mare frowns and then thinks back it: he's lonely. And the hat laughs before saying: loyal then, hufflepuff might do you well. She makes a face and it laughs once again when she thinks: I can do better than that. And it seems to nod in understanding before standing upright and announcing SLYTHERIN. Maven sits up taller as Mare leaps down from the stool and runs to him with a big, shit eating grin on her face. Shade goes a little pale in the face but smiles at her nonetheless. It's his baby sister, and if she's happy, he is too.

She's very happy. Slytherin isn't all that bad. Maven's her friend and he's a very good one. He's smart as a tack, and knows all these neat tricks to get through work. But its when they go out to fly on the brooms where they differ finally. Maven is... not a fan of being off the ground. Mare... she could live up there. She tries to get him interested but he jut won't have it, preferring to bury his nose in books and study. (Mare wonders why he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw like Ada, but she shrugs it off).

It's one day when they're all out walking and that girl Evangeline starts teasing some kid and throws his whatever in the air that things finally get interesting for Mare. In a very impressive showing of skill, she catches this tiny object while flying. IMMEDIATELY, the captain of the Slytherin team wants her as his Seeker. Its UNHEARD OF everyone argues. NO FIRST YEARS allowed! But it's vetoed, and Mare is allowed to play. Shade is more than proud, puffing out his chest, and forcing her to walk around with him so he can introduce her to his class and everyone as the youngest Seeker in years.

It's after she is sneaking out of the Gryffindor tower one night, having stayed to talk with Shade and Farley who is finally losing some of her Ice Queen exterior and even cracked a smile at one of Mare's jokes, that she almost gets in trouble. She is sprinting down the stairs of the tower when she runs smack into someone so they both end up tumbling down the stairs and hitting the back of the Fat Lady's portrait when they land. She stumbles over apologies, trying to grab her things in the dark (and pocketing one or two of his by accident), when she looks up. She's seen him before, she know she has, but can't remember from where. Plus, it's a little dark and she can't see him all that clearly. He's sitting there, tie undone, and shirt all messed up from falling, and rubbing the back of his head where it hit the back of the portrait when he looks at her. HE knows her. This the girl who is the youngest Seeker in years! They blink at each other, and she tries to take off, but he grabs her wrist, keeping ahold of her as he says: Thief! when he realizes she grabbed a few of his things. She looks down at the mess of things in her arms, and then frowns at him before saying, No! These are my things! he pulls out his wand and book from her hands and she's like: okay, well, those aren't mine, but whatever. And he smiles at her as he stands and she's suddenly craning her neck to look up at him, and LORD ABOVE what did he eat as a child?! She squints up at him, still trying to place him when he shifts his things to his other arm and holds out a hand for her to shake. She looks at it, and then takes it slowly. His grip is so warm and comforting, but not sweaty like some of the other boys her age. He shakes her hand and introduces himself as Cal, and THEN Mare knows who he is. This is Maven's brother. The older one, the perfect spitting image of his father who is the "Perfect Son." Maven always sneers just slightly when he says that, and now that she has met this Cal, she knows Maven is right. Turning up her nose at him, she spins on her heel and leaves, completely uninterested.

Okay she lied, she was a little more interested than she let on. She sees him EVERYWHERE after that. He raises his brows at her in the Great Hall, and even smiled and said good morning Mare when she walked by with Maven to Charms one day. After that day, Maven gets really sullen, and tells her that she shouldn't talk to him, that he's trouble. He's a third year, in line to be Prefect and Headboy at some point. She doesn't want to get mixed up with wet blanket like that. She agrees, but something about him, his eyes, the gentle smile, and way he'd looked at her the first time he saw her makes her heart do a little jig every time she thinks about him.

Before she knows it, its the first Quidditch match, and she's set to play. She steps out in her beautiful green and black uniform, and while she's in the tunnel adjusting the straps on her wrist guard with her teeth, someone laughs behind her and says: there is a better way to do that. She looks up, the laces half in her mouth, and a tiny bit of drool running down her chin to see Cal leaning against his broom. Of course he plays Quidditch, she thinks with a scowl. What perfect son wouldn't? He takes her wrist though and ties the guard gently, pulling the laces perfectly through the loops. Maven tried to help her with it this morning but gave up when he couldn't do it. Her face burns with embarrassment but he doesn't notice, or at least, he pretends not to notice. When he finished both wrist guards, he shoulders his broom and with a wink says, "eyes up and head up, dont want to take a Blunger to face on your first day." He strolls away after that, and Mare stands there, watching his shoulders as he leaves. How does a thirteen year old boy manage to look like that?! Shaking it off she steps on the pitch but... that's all she remembers. She takes a nasty blunger to side of the head and falls to the pitch floor. When she wakes up, the entire Slytherin team is around her and so is half the Gryfinddor team, Farley is grimacing as she takes in the situation, and Cal is leaning over her, shielding her from the son. She frowns up at him before saying, "you didn't say they moved that fast." He snorts to hide a laugh as the medics take her off the pitch. Good news? She learns later in the Infirmary, they won! When she went down, Cal, the Keeper moved as if to go to her and they were able to put the Quaffle in to get the final point! Her captain claps her on the back, and she tries not to puke when the movement jars her head.

The year ends uneventfully, and she waves goodbye to Maven as she disembarks and he leaves with Cal. A woman with matching icy blue eyes and stark, ash blonde hair frowns at her as Maven smiles and waves his own goodbye. She pointedly ignores Cal's title wave goodbye.

The next year is much of the same but there is a... current in the air, a charge that wasn't there before. Something is happening, something dark in the world. Shade and Farley go to Hogsmead and talk about it, but Mare can't go yet. She sits in a hidden alcove of the Astronomy tower, watching the world outside with her books open before her. Maven is quieter this year, but there is a strange new confidence and glint in his eye. It worries her. He is not the boy she waved goodbye to at the beginning of the summer.

One day while studying, she hears footsteps and looks up to see Cal pausing along side her. Her stomach flip flops when she sees him. The summer did wonders for him. Somehow, he is more attractive. She didn't even realize that was possible. And she REFUSED to admit that she thought about him a few times... well more than a few times... over the break. He smiles at her and before she knows it, she's leaning toward him to talk. She asks why he's not at Hogsmead and he grimaces before saying he is struggling with Diviniation and has to take an extra class on it every week. She laughs, and the smile he gives her when she does laugh turns her stomach to molten lava. He helps her out of the windowsill and they walk to the Great Hall together. Maven intercepts them before then, his eyes narrowing and darkening when Cal waves goodbye and heads on his way. Mare nudges Maven with her shoulder and teases him saying: are you worried I might like him more than you? Maven glowers at her, and she softens before taking his hand and promising him that Cal is "a complete and utter moron, who she could never like." It seems to relax him, but not completely. Again, Mare worries. He was never concerned about Cal or any of this before.

The year works that way though. She slowly get closer to Cal. They have this strange unspoken agreement to meet at HER windowsill once a week and then walk along the ground by the lake. One day, in the winter, she forgets a thick enough coat, and is shivering in her sweater until he shrugs off his cloak and drapes it around her shoulders. She blinks in surprise, before smiling and thanking him. It's far too big on her and drags on the ground a bit, but its warm and it smells like him. Which she is terrified to realize she kind of likes.

She starts spending time in the Gryffindor tower too, getting closer with Shade's friends, and sometimes, Cal is there too. He's not really a staple (he and Farley don't really get along, something about her calling him a Pure Blooded Hypocrite), but Mare finds she likes when he is around.

That summer is terrible. Maven doesn't write her as much as he promised. And the world is getting Dark™️. There are strange disappearances on the TV. Things are getting weird. Shade gets secret letters from Farley that he hides from her. When they go back to Hogwarts, things are... different. There are guards, there weren't Guards before. Maven looks more gaunt and haunted. Even Cal doesn't seem as cheery anymore. They're walks around the lake go from once to twice to three times a week. He tells her about his side of the Wizarding World, and she learns about a group that is known as the Death Eaters (who serve a mysterious Dark One that wants to eliminate the muggle population and the mud bloods). Mare frowns when he says that word. He says it quietly, like its something bad. She's not sure why, it's a word. When she asks Farley about it, her friend's face hardens and she tells her it's a nasty term that Pure Bloods use to describe the people like them. The ones who come from non magic families.

She finds solace in Quidditch, she even goes out when Cal offers to show her a few tricks, and that time... it is strangely magical. She finally gets to go to Hogsmead, and spend time with Shade and Farley there. They have a new little group, a taller fifth year named Tristan is added, Ada is with them, Ketha, and a couple of others. Shade tells her to go off and find something to do one time and she ends up spying on them. When she does, she overhears them talking about the Dark One, that they are back and that is the reason so many Muggles are dying and disappearing strangely. That Hogwarts might not be safe anymore. She confronts Cal about it one day, and he stops dead in the snow, spins on her and says never to talk about it. That the Dark One is dead, has been dead for year and that she should never mention them. She is taken aback, he's never seemed so concerned to desperate before. So she drops it. But things get worse over christmas break.

When she returns, Maven is almost cold with her. She tries to tease him like she used to, but he just isn't having it. She clings tighter to him, worried that things are not going well at home. She knows his mother isn't great, knows his father is an asshole. She can't understand how two people like that managed to make someone like Maven, and someone like Cal. But she tries her best to be a friend for Maven. She can't help but get closer with Cal. Something about him draws her in, and keeps her.

One day at Hogsmead, she runs into him (literally, again). She slips on the ice and he catches her, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her close so she has to grab the front of his coat and cloak to keep herself upright too. They look at each other for a long time, confused and full of butterflies before she spots Maven at the other end of the bridge. She was supposed to meet him at the sweet shop but was running late. His eyes narrow ever so slightly at what he sees, and Mare pulls away from Cal glaring at him and adjusting her hair when he blinks in confusion. She turns on her heel and leaves without a word, taking Maven's hand in her own as she passes him and dragging him along.

That summer, something changes fundamentally in the world. The world actually gets even Darker. Shade gets more worried, and Farley starts showing up at thier house. Mare know they are seeing each other. But she keeps it to herself. When they go back to Hogwarts... there are Guards on the train. She walks down the hallway and runs into Cal on his way to his compartment. The train rocks as she is trying to pass him and she ends up in his arms again. She's fifteen, and he's seventeen, old for a sixth year. But in his Prefect uniform, he looks quiet attractive, and somehow he got MORE attractive over the summer. The flutters that had once been nothing but tummy flutters when she was elven/twelve are now full blown butterflies in her stomach. She would never admit it, but she had a dream about him over the summer. About his hands on her hips and the stone wall of the Gryffindor common room rubbing against her back as she pinned her to it. She doesn't pull herself out of his arms right now though, there is something comforting about being in his embrace right now, when the world seems to slowly falling apart around them. He lets her go, a falsh of something in his eyes before he smiles at her and says, safe travels.

When they get to Hogwarts, she knows there is something wrong with Maven. He looks like a corpse, his eyes are dark and his features are sharper than usual. She tries to get him to smile for her, but he can't seem to muster much. So one day, out of desperation, she kisses him. He melts finally, and she melts with him, burning like Icarus when he got to close to the sun. They become... a thing for lack of a better term. He clings tightly to her, pulls her away from Farley and Shade and her friends, pointedly makes sure she doesn't spend time with Cal to the point where he actually seeks her out one day, and Maven jeers at him until he leaves. It scares her, he was never hostile, never a person like this. When she talks to him about it, he raves about things she doesn't understand. An In fact, he seems almost angry with her. She can't understand, she tries to get it out of him halfway through the fall, and he turns around and calls her a nasty Mudblood, jeering at her about the fact that is lucky he even considers her a friend. It breaks her heart, shatters it into a thousand pieces. She didn't kiss him just because it might make him feel better. She kissed him because she wanted to, because she thought it felt right (she also did it because a secret part of her hoped that kissing him would make the dreams about Cal stop.)

She stops hanging around him, the other kids like him and the other Slytherins embrace him instead, folding him into their group, while she starts to gravitate to Shade and Farley again.

they go home for Christmas, and the world tilts completely on its access. There is horrible accident that kills a number of families, and Shade immediately packs a backpack that night to go see Farley. Mare forces him to take her with him. When they get to Farley's, everyone is there, all the people Shade has been friends with. She learns they are forming a group, the Scarlet Guard, to defend themselves. The Dark One is coming back, and they will be ready.

When they return in the spring, the teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts does not prepare them right. Mare feels like a child being handed a pair of children scissors to solve a grown up problem. She talks to Shade about it, and the group agrees. They need training. It's then that Mare does what cements her fate with Maven. She seeks out Cal. He is not looking too great either, there is something haunting his face and when she finally walks up to him one morning on the lawn near the lake, he looks at her suspiciously. She doesn't know why but she ends up curled against his side, sobbing. He's taken aback at first, and then soften, wrapping an arm around her while she tells him everything. With a tight jaw, and a nod, he agrees to help them training.

They form a secret group, and they start training. It's then that Mare starts to realize that perhaps she likes Cal more than she lets on. he's a good teacher, a very good one, and whenever he holds her hand and guides her wrist through a complex spell movement, she feels her face heat up. He's a sixth year, seventeen and on the cusp of greatness it seems. His OWLs were outstanding, he is set on the path she knows he wants. They train together privately. On a nondescript day like any other, she stays after to talk to him, and when she does, he kisses her. It turns her into a pool of liquid mercury, and when he breaks it off and gently caresses her cheek with his thumb she knows she is doomed.

They leave for the summer, and she writes him daily. He writes back, telling her about things happening at home. There are issues, his father is stressed, his step mother is being cagey, and Maven... he's not himself. She worries, Shade is a sixth year and she's just a fifth year, but the world feels like it is resting on their shoulders.

When they come back to school in the fall, Maven confronts her. He found the letters she wrote to Cal. He accuses her of a number of things she is horrified by. Cal steps in to push him back, and in a horrible moment, Maven draws his wand and puts to Cal's throat. The brothers stand like that for a moment, and Mare with her hand on her wand fears who she will have to point her own wand at. But Maven drops the wand, and that is that when he storms off.

The Scarlet Guard grows in number. And then it happens right before they leave for Winter Break. The earth shattering, horrible truth. The Dark One returns, and no where is safe. Hogwarts is under attack before anyone knows what is happening. Mare is fighting through the halls, throwing out hexes and charms she never thought she would have to use. She battles her way to Cal, who takes her hand and pulls her close. The Aurors arrive but they are not enough. Shade, Farley, Mare and Cal storm the upper tower. Cal makes them stay below in the hidden crawl space because Maven is up there and he can hear his father. When he gets up there, it is not what he thinks. Mare and Farley and Shade watch from below in horror as Elara uses the Imperius Curse to actually turn Cal on his father so he kills him. When that happens, the truth is revealed. Elara is the Dark One, or the new chosen Dark One among the Death Eaters. Mare storms up the steps before Elara can kill Cal, using the one spell she knows might end the duel. But Maven steps in and they end up dueling. With tears steaming down her cheeks, she tries to fight him off. But he is not fighting to stun her, he is fighting to kill her, to put her out of commission. She is disarmed, and in a horrible moment, thinks he will kill her. Elara is cooing at him to do it, to punish her for loving his brother instead of him. She pleads with him silently, begging him with her eyes not to. His lips twist as he struggles with the decision. It's too long, Shade and Farley get up the steps and force Elara and Maven to appirate away.

The world cracks open like an egg as war spills out after that.

HOLY SHIT THAT WAS LONG. ANYWAY, ENJOY EVERYONE. I'm not going back and rereading this so whatever you see is what you get XD

[evera6234]

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY: 

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely.                ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3. 

Lemme know if ya wanna be tagged

OK. Umm.. First fic on AO3. K. We doin this, and we starting with this god awful piece of trash. Yes. Life. Fuck. 

Things ur signing up for:

Big boi Mari & Chloe Friendship Good Vibes TM

My ass shitting on Adrien bc im a salty bitch (and if u aint about that life, its ok. U can leave bc im not interested in fighting with people. No offence or disrespect to adrien stans but yea)

And Adrien stalker moments

Lila and Alya salt (plz see “im a salty bitch”)

Shitty update schedule, if any. I’m counting on yall to harass me to write.

Marinette & Jason “sibling-esque” relationship bc we all need that

An obscene amount of cursing (as you can already tell)

The class will not be  “Our singular communal brain-cell is fucking dead, help.” levels of dumb, but still “I have the IQ of a wet potato sack” levels of dumb.

Eventual negation of canon bc we live that life

“Espresso with a dash of Depresso” Moments TM

I'm originally an MLB fan. So do what you will with that info.

The good old “Ozmav AU” but with some lime and spice

As slow burn as I can

Mental Health stuff and the repercussions of having multiple identities treated completely differently

And the crown jewel of this entire fic… Auntie Harley and Ivy.

And….. sorry…. Ppl will kinda be OOC but im trying my very best. 

Tbh I have no idea where this going rn but... i mean… it going somewhere (specifically hell) because everything does. Leave ideas plz, don’t kill me. Just bully me. 

So yea. Lemme know what u want and if I want to, I might just squeeze it into the fic (if it fit ofc, im not just gonna add random 50 year time-lapses). I'll try my best ;)))) (<-- my quadruple chin)

~

Chloe’s head hangs heavy on Mari’s shoulder as the pressurised air surrounding them vibrates with the sounds… of well… a plane. Chloe had a tough couple weeks; late night combat practises with the new team (LB, Hornet, Viperion and Ryuuko) has obviously taken a toll on her partner. Both wrapped in a thick velvet blanket that Chloe remembered to pack (thank kwami) sharing a pair of headphones, both were lulled into a peaceful slumber.

Alya laughs as Lila tips her small glass of diet coke (that a flight attendant painstakingly poured for her) on a sleeping Marinette’s side of Chloe’s blanket, effectively waking her up. “Oopsies! Sorry Marinette! You see, the cabin air has really been worsening my arthritis. I didn’t mean it! I swear! Cross my heart!” apologized Lila with fake concern as Alya giggles beside her. 

Marinette, literally seeing Lila’s crossed figures behind her back says “At least Chloe is still sleeping, she needs the rest.” Alya, Lila and her empty cup saunter beck to their seats nearby. 

~

Mari and her class finally land in Gotham’s cold December night. Freshly hushed into a private shuttle, the class are driven to their hotel. It is late: around 3:30 AM. With heavy eyelids the class gazed out the bus’s windows in awe. The merging view of traffic and Christmas lights chase them to their residence. No one really remembers or knows what happened that night. Just the feeling of falling, be it into a white fluffy hotel comforter or into the crisp Gotham air. 

~

“Oh! My! Gosh!!!” hears Marinette as Lila on the bus to Wayne Enterprise. “I feel so. At. Home!” In Marinette’s tired ears, there were more exclamation marks. 

“Of course… The only thing that can inhabit Gotham alleyways are cockroaches and villains,” Chloe grumbles beneath her breath, looking out the window.

“What have I ever done to you Chloe?” Lila cries, “I understand why Marinette bullies me, she is a jealous and vile girl. But I thought you, Chloe, want to be a better person, not a bully like that bitch, Marinette!”

“How dare you. How dare you. HOW DARE YOU!” Chloe yells as the recent words loop in her mind, 

“Not gonna call your daddy, huh?” Alya taunts. 

Chloe, with tears in her eyes begins, but is quickly interrupted by Marinette, “No she will not. She doesn’t need to. Chloe grew a lot over the last couple months, I’m so proud of her. She doesn’t need your bitch-ass approval.” Marinette grasps Chloe’s hand which previously wrapped itself around the fabric of Chloe’s heavy caramel winter coat.

“Quiet on the bus!”, A yell came from the front.

“But, Mr. Bus Driver… Marinette is being a…”

“Shut it! Y’all want me to kamikaze this shit into a building? I’m guessing y’all value your lives so shut it!” 

“Ms.Guardian, can I please have a cookie?” Pollen softly asks from the inside of Chloe’s giant white faux leather handbag.

“Shh… Pollen! Now’s not the time!!!” stresses Tikki.

“Please Ms. Guardian!!! I’m so so so hungry. This bag isn’t very warm and it’s taking all my energy to keep warm. A lil blubber wouldn’t hurt…. please!!”.

“Of course Pollen,” quietly respond Mari with a grin, “Here you go.” She pulls out a couple cookies from a Tupperware and hands them to Pollen. “Please share them with Tikki,” whispers Marinette into the bag. 

Marinette and Chloe then hears two tiny “thank you”s followed by the sound that can only be described increasingly aggressive chomping. Both girls giggle quietly.

~

“Welcome to Gotham,” says an unenthusiastic man at the front desk. “Congratulations, you are…” He checks his computer. “On time? Interesting.”

“Yes, we are aware,” grumbles Mrs. Bustier, already done with the man’s attitude.

“Okay so before the tour starts I’m doing to need the student who set-up this field trip to sign a couple forms and stuff. Here ya go.” The man pushed a thicc pile of paper into the teachers hand. 

“Oooh! That would be me sir!” Lila chirped, intercepting the papers before skipping back to her posse of her’s. A few seconds after beginning to fill out paperwork Lila cries “Ouch! My wrist! My arthritis! Can someone help me filling out all these form.” 

“I’ll fill them out, I’m only going to need your signatures,” offered Max.

“Thank you Max, you are so sweet!” Lila complements. 

“Of course, your arthritis was badly affected by the altitude yesterday, you shouldn’t be staining your wrist so early!” Max blushed. 

“Maribug, you gonna to say something?” 

“Nah, just watch. Entertainment without a Netflix membership.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Chivalry is dead (JJK x Reader) 💜(☁️)🔞

🖤 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🖤 Genre: CEO x Secretary AU, Fluff/Romance, Coworkers to lovers?, mild angst, Smut

🖤 Warnings: swearing, mentions of surgery, did I mention swearing, Kookster is whipped, it’s kinda cheesy, please someone get me a Jungkook like that, slow sex, gentle lovemaking, it’s nothing freaky this time, oral (f rec.) protected sex, sugary sweet live confession you might get diabetes

🖤 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was your boss. The roles were clear as day, so why did it seem so complicated?

You had no idea who in the hell actually invented coffee- like who thought roasting some weird beans and spilling hot water over that stuff was a good idea? Well, whoever it was, that person could go fuck themselves royally; because first of all, that stuff tasted bitter as hell, and second of all, it made your early morning shift an absolute nightmare.

Maybe it wasn't the coffee, but the person who loved them- Jeon Jungkook. Self-proclaimed savior of his Dad's company after taking over at the mere age of 22. Now, at 25, he was a well known face in his business, with famous magazines naming him 'one to watch out for' when talking about deals and sudden decisions. He's headstrong, smart, and unbelievably good looking too.

And also an asshole.

Thats at least what your flatmate Jenny usually says whenever he's the main course of your conversations. You'd told her time and time again that he was merely this rough with you because he was stressed- yet she simply stated that you were just an angel too good for this world- and especially too good for him.

"2 Minutes late." Came his rough voice as he didn't even look up to greet you, simply tapping on the surface of his crisp white table where he expected you to put his coffee. (Black and bitter as his soul, as Jenny always said.) He nodded, hand raising to dismiss you as always, until his eyes turned downwards, spotting your scaped up knee; half-hazardly covered by a bandaid that already came off at one side due to the rush you'd been in. Sure, you could apologize now, tell him how you were late because that freaking dogwalker let a leash of one of his huskies slip, which basically ran you over like a truck considering your rather short height, but you'd found out early on that Jeon Jungkook didn't care about your stories. Yet with his still lingering stare, you felt like he'd glued you to the ground by the soles of your shoes, without his dismissal you were forced to stay right where you were. He took a sip of his black beverage before setting the cup down with a sigh, getting up to walk towards a small bathroom connected to his office. Emerging out of the room again with a couple of items in his hand, he sat down on his chair behind his laptop, turning it towards you.

He had to lean down a bit as he took off the bandaid, not even saying sorry as you hissed at the sting. You did notice however how he took it off more gently after that, as he threw it into his bin, opening the plastic bag of desinfectant wipes, before his large hand held the back of your knee, almost delicately. He began to clean the scrape, brows furrowing a bit at the view of the raw skin, thinking about how you probably ran with that all the way to his office just to not be even later. He wanted to apologize, at least give you some form of verbal reassurance that it was okay to put your own health before his goddamn coffee, but the words got stuck inside his throat as he gently placed a new, more properly sized bandaid over the wound, sighing as some red seeped through immediately. "Get that checked after work today." He simply said before getting up to put all of the items away into their proper place as you were left with still tingling skin from his touch. He turned around, looking at you with an almost bored, but soft look. "What're you standing there for? You're dismissed." He said, and you practically ran out of the office.

"He wants to fuck you." Jenny simply said as she bit into her sandwich, while you were left almost spitting out your lunch. "What? That was electricity, I'm telling you! He so wants to screw you." She said, almost accusingly pointing a finger at you as she took a sip of her water, watching you.

"Stop. He only did that because he.." Oh well yeah, why did he do that? He could've simply told you to get it checked instead of taking care of it himself for that matter. But he was someone who wanted things done immediately- e rarely could wait for things to finish or to be done, so maybe he just wanted to have things more proper during your shift? Exactly. He just wanted to keep the image of his company intact- maybe even raise it by showing other employees that he cared for everyone deeply, even if he didn't. "He probably just wanted me not to look like I got scraped off the streets." You mumbled before taking a bite of your lunch, Jennies eyes rolling.

"Truth is;" She started, as she threw away her plastic waste before checking her watch, "That I still think he wants you bend over his desk." She finished, as you turned shades of pink, lowering your gaze at that. You always tried to keep those thoughts away from you, knowing how unprofessional it was. "Does he know you're leaving soon?" She asked, now a bit softer since she knew it was a touchy topic. You shook your head.

"I haven't put in my termination yet." You answered, your food suddenly looking stale. Jenny sighed, hugging your side.

"I'll buy some icecream on the way home, you're finishing later than I do I assume?" She asked, and you nodded again as a confirmation. "Alright. Let's binge on movies tonight, and have a nice weekend alright? Heads up." Came her reply as she left with a wave, to get back to her own desk in the company.

Jenny and you had met while you were waiting for your interview with Jeon to begin, and when you began to talk, you immediately hit off. You'd told her how much the driving back and forth from your old apartment to work would be, and eventually she'd decided to share her apartment with you close to the company. You were a bit hesitant at first, but eventually agreed; and it was one of your best decisions yet. The way to work was basically half an hour by foot- if it wasn't for your daily task of bringing your boss a coffee from this one specific shop downtown, almost an hour away by foot. It was okay however. Everyone had their preference.

At least you told yourself that to feel better about being Jeon Jungkooks personal slave.

"You're in love with her." Jimin stated, as Jungkook almost choked on his instant ramen.

"What the fuck dude, I don't." He exclaimed in a scandalized manner, long dark hair successfully hiding the red tips of his ears. He simply furrowed his brows, chopsticks now digging in his cup as if to search for treasure, just so he didn't have to look up and meet the eyes of his very nosy friends who were sitting in his living room.

"So you only want to fuck her." Yoongi grumbled as he hit after Jimin, who'd tried to steal a peace of meat from his plate.

"Exactly- Wait no!" The young company leader corrected himself immediately. No, this wasn't just pleasure he was seeking with you- but he also denied every single clue that he was into you, romantically. After all, he'd had his fair share of romantic involvements in the past; all pathetically killing themselves royally simply because there was never true love involved. It was either for benefit, for public image, or most of the time- for his money. It was never truly just about him.

Jungkook was simply a number, nothing more. In a way, his success was mostly just a curse for his soul; he was convinced by now that everyone just wanted something from him at this point, as pathetic as it sounded. He was always just the punchline of a joke, elderly woman seeing him as a piece of meat on a richly designed table ready to be consumed- just to be spit out as soon as he'd loose flavor. It was sad really, how much he hated trusting at this point.

"Look." Namjoon started, putting down his empty cup as he sniffled from the spicy meal he'd just consumed. "As far as I know, she'd from a regular background, right?" He asked, and Jungkook nodded, slurping some noodles without paying much attention. "How long has she been working for you at this point, two years? Three years?" The younger in question nodded at three, remembering the moment you'd stepped into his office for your interview, back then with a different haircut and color, and a bit more shy than you were now. You'd found friends in coworkers, when it came to gatherings and dinners you were always missing, however. He'd never seen you at any afterparty or bithday gathering for that matter as well. "She also didn't eye you up at all during these years, right?" He asked, and Jungkook got a bit more serious as that, because his friend was right. You surely looked interested in him, but you kept it charmingly subtle- it was more like a shy glance every now and then, never to linger uncomfortably. Just like a mouse showing itself to the cat every now and then to keep the chase going without any intention to.

"Oh, did you ever pay her for buying you a new suit by the way? The one she spilled her strawberry milk on?" Jimin asked with a laugh as Jungkook shook his head.

"She didn't want it." He said, and suddenly everyone got quiet.

"She what?" Yoongi asked. "Is she stupid?" He got out before Jungkook threw him a serious glance.

"Shut up." He said through gritted teeth, as Jimin laughed and the oldest in the round threw his hands up in mocking defense. "No but.. I offered several times, but she said it was her fault. She even got mad at me when I simply put the money on her paycheck- she practically demanded me to take it back." He explained, and Namjoon nodded.

"Probably because she'd feel bad." He answered. He knew you longest and most personally out of everyone in the current gathering; he'd been in the same class back in school for a few years. And you'd always been like that- you hated being paid back favours, because you didn't want to seem like you did them just to gain something afterwards. You kept people at a safe distance, never to have them cross that line, so you could always push them away without getting seriously hurt in the process. You'd also never been in a romantic relationship for long as far as he knew- only having had one scandal back in school, where the guy you'd lost your virginity to had publicly shamed you for being 'bad in bed'. It was a mess really, and Namjoon had felt bad back then, but there was no way you'd let anyone close to you afterwards. "Look." Namjoon started, looking at the youngest. "I'd say go for it. From what I know, she's a genuine person. I'm more concerned about her in this situation than you, if I'm being honest." He said, and Jungkook looked at him scandalized.

Yoongi chimed in. "You're known to fuck around. Don't just use her as a place to throw your half-assed cumshots into, that's what he wants to say." He replied, making Jimin scrunch up his nose in distaste.

Jungkook only continued to eat in silence. You maybe had the role of the mouse in this chase- but he was a tiger waiting to be taimed.

"What is this?" He asked, very unamused, and very much not pleased. It was understandable to a level- after three and a half years you'd just handed in your termination. What you did not understand however, was the amount of emotion you could spot swimming behind his eyes- he looked a bit like when he'd accidentally spilled tea over his workspace once, scared to death if that accident would mean the death of all his hard work of the day. You'd reassured him back then that everything had been saved on the main servers, so even if his laptop was to die, which it did not, everything would still be save. He could surely find a new secretary however- there was no use to make such a huge fuss over it.

"It's my termination sir. I'll be leaving at the end of this month." You answered, a bit unsure now on your spot in front of his desk, as he pushed the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a clear sign of irritation on his side.

"Thats in two weeks, Y/N." He stated, and you nodded. "As a reason you stated 'health issues'. Is there something I should be worried about?" He asked, and you swallowed, hard.

"Is it uhm.. do I need to answer-" You began, but he cut you off with a stern voice.

"You don't have to, but I'd have to decline the termination if I don't see the reasoning as fit to be taken seriously under such short notice." He began, putting down the papers as he suddenly looked at you more intensely. "We have clear rules here Y/N, I thought you knew them by now. Vacation requests three weeks prior, and terminations as well, except for important reasons." He said, and you looked down.

"I'll be having an operation that can't be pushed anymore soon sir, and I fear I won't be able to meet your standards afterwards. Which is why I'm terminating my contract." You stated, and you swore you could see a flash of concern in his gaze as he nodded.

"Is there anything I can help you with, in preparation for that?" He asked, now shifting his interest on his laptop screen again, typing something as you got confused.

"Pardon sir?" You asked, and he clicked a few times on his touchbad, seemingly searching for something before he turned his attention back onto you.

"Your severance pay will be quite high due to the quality and timespan you've worked here. I want to make sure however, that you're taken care of personally as well, if you'd let me." He said, in such a manner that you felt like he was actually growing a bit self-conscious.

"I uhm.. I will stay at the hospital for a while to recover, and afterwards I guess I'll be fine on my own. It's really fine sir, I don't uhm.. you don't need to do anything really." You said, before sending a smile his way, trying hard not to think of this chapter as finished. Your eyes already stung at the realization that you'd be leaving this comfortable environment soon. It may seemed childish for someone else, but you considered this place a second home- everything was familiar, every routine saved into the memory of your bones, it was your comfort to work here. "I uhm.. I really enjoyed working here." You finished, as Jungkook took a closer look at you.

He seemed to think about something, before he carefully stood up, slowly walking over towards you. For the first time he didn't look detached or as if he needed to do something; his gaze was soft and gentle, and it made it so much harder not to be a crybaby in this situation. You'd always thought that he merely saw you as a secretary, but this situation, as normal as it seemed, felt so intimate. "I'm glad." He simply said, slightly opening his arms to give you the option to take or not to take his invitation for a hug.

You would've been a fool not to. After all, Jungkook wasn't a physically affectionate person- he hated the act of merely shaking hands with a passion, he'd once told you.

"Will you tell me what exactly it is?" He asked, voice so much richer and deeper now that the side of your face was leaning against his chest, head growing dizzy from his presence. You could smell his faint cologne and a fabric softener similar to the one you used- again showing you that he preferred to wash his clothes himself rather than letting others do it for him. "You don't have to, but you have me worried." He simply said, now detaching himself from you hesitantly as he saw some coworkers outside the office staring. He didn't want to make you the talk of town now, only weeks before leaving. Rumors could be aggressive, after all.

"I uhm.." You started, sniffling a bit as you sat down in front of his workdesk. "I'll have a surgery on my knee, since I take a lot of medication for the pain now, and I kinda don't want that anymore so.." You explained to him, as his brows furrowed.

"Why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have let you work so hard if I'd known you were in pain." He said, almost with a whine, which made you smile a bit in return. You waved him off, however.

"No no, it's fine really. I keep stuff like that to myself anyways." You admitted, and he thought for a moment, before he decided, no.

He wouldn't keep you working just so he could benefit from seeing you. That would be selfish- and he didn't want to be like that. Not with you, at least. He screwed up his chance, and that was okay; he'd had all the time to ask you out, to get closer with you, after all. Maybe it was simply karma. "Take those two weeks off. Don't worry, it won't affect your payment in any form- you'll need to take your vacation time anyways, or I'll get a slap on my hands for not letting you have freetime." He simply said, as you nodded. "Dismissed." He said, in his usual tone.

This time, it made you smile, as you nodded, stood up and walked towards the door. "Y/N." He said from his desk, not looking up. "I really enjoyed having you here." He mumbled, and you grinned, nodding, before leaving the office- and the building alltogether.

"Still can't believe you haven't hired anyone else yet." Jimin accused,as he drank his soju across from Jungkook, who'd simply shrugged. It's been two months by now, and he still refused to let any secretary work as closely with him as you did before. He rather got up a bit earlier and got his morning coffee himself instead of telling anyone to do so; it was as if that was reserved to you. It wasn't the act of having you bring him his coffee like a personal assistand; it was more the fact that he got to see you first thing in the morning. In a weird way, he didn't want to see anyone so early apart form you- he was simply too grumpy for that. "What about Hannah?" He asked, and Jungkook shook his head. Hannah was a promising candidate for the role of a future girlfriend- he really liked her. But there was no romantic spark between the two, and when she'd looked at him almost as if he'd ate her dog when he'd told the waiter to split the bill of their shared dinner, he knew that it wouldn't work out. She'd been so sure that he would simply pay for everything that he had to pay the entire thing- because she didn't even carry her purse with her. "Another piranha, I see."

Namjoon came into the room, several take out boxes in hand. "What're you talking about?" He asked, and Jimin chuckled.

"Jungkookies nonexistent sex-life." He said, before getting hit with a spoon from the younger one.

"Oh, interesting actually-" He began, putting down the food before sitting down himself. "Just saw Y/N-" He started, but Jungkook, almost chomically, cut him off.

"Did she look okay? Was she alright?" He asked, and Namjoon laughed for a second before taking some chopsticks for himself, breaking them apart and making Jimin laugh when they broke the wrong way.

"She seemed okay. Walked without help, but seemed a bit wobbly still." He explained, and Jungkook nodded. "My dad said she's gonna be alright, but it's gonna take a while since she waited so long to get it done-" Suddenly, Jungkook coughed.

"Your DAD did the surgery on her?!" He yelled out, making his dog bark as if alerted, as Namjoon became wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I mean, didn't I tell you.?" He began, but Jungkook shook his head, still heavily irritated.

"No, you did not!" He began, before letting himself fall into the couch defeatedly, whining. "I could've sent her flowers or some other shit, now I fucked it up!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, his dog jumping onto his lap.

"And they say chivalry is dead." Jimin said, playfully wiggling his eyebrows as Namjoon shot him a look to shut him up.

"You can still do that though?" He asked, and Jungkook furrowed his brows.

"No, that's just.. weird. Like, imagine getting flowers from your boss MONTHS after you quit." He said, before huffing like a child. "I screwed it up, its fine." He mumbled, before Namjoon continued.

"I mean, she asked about you though.." He hummed, taking a bite of his food.

"She did what?!" Both Jimin and Jungkook asked in disbelief.

"She asked about you. How you were doing, you know, that stuff." He explained, before continuing. "Told her you fuck around, she left after that." He said, shrugging his shoulders as Jungkook yelled furiously.

"You did what?! Namjoon, what the fuck-" He started, almost tearing up before the elder one laughed. "Not funny." Jungkook commented, clearly unamused by the humor in Namjoons face.

"Sorry." He said, putting down his chopsticks. "No, but for real, she actually told me to tell you she didn't change her number or anything so.."

Jungkook looked at him quesitoningly. "So?" He asked, and Jimin groaned.

"What the fuck, is she supposed to lay on your doorstep with her legs spread out while telling you 'Oh hey come inside and make yourself at home' for you to get the message?" A grumpy Yoongi groaned out as he walked into the living room, greeting the dog. "She basically told Namjoon to tell you she wants to sit on your dick." He said, stealing a dumpling from Jimin as he took off his jacket.

"She did not-" Namjoon started, before turning to the youngest again. "But she basically did say you should message her."

"To make up a date to fuck each other!" Yoongi yelled from the kitchen. Jungkook groaned.

"I mean I do have her number.." He mumbled, and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder as the eldest came back, a glass of water in his hands.

"Then go get pussy." He said, and everyone laughed.

Everyone but the young man in question.

"You uh.. sorry its nothing special but you said you wanted something not fancy so.." He said, as he pulled out the chair as you sat down.

"No no, its fine. I like this." You answered, now a bit shy with him sitting in front of you- all casual and not at all in the regular environment you both met in. He wore a simple black button up, ripped jeans- clothes that were so.. regular, yet he made them look so expensive. Maybe it was how his body was proportioned, with long legs and a broad chest, or maybe it was simply the way he carried himself.

"You look really nice." He casually complimented, as you blushed a bit, unfamiliar with such compliments as he smiled at your reaction, licking his lips almost impishly.

He would've been a bit more shy if it wasn't for the several conversations over the phone you both have had in the past couple of days; your answers and innuendos making it clear that you were genuinely interested in him, on a higher level than just 'hit and run'. No, you'd asked about his dog when he'd sent you a picture of him, you'd wanted to know about his family, or what he did in his freetime- you both even played several rounds of overwatch together when you'd revealed to him that you play the game as well.

It made him feel confident.

Another reason he was so adamant on making sure his impression on you was the best was that you'd openly talked about your, admittedly shitty ex partners, giving him even more reason to treat you the best he could think of.

You felt a bit weird.

Not a bad weird, but a.. tingling weird. This kind of weird where you don't know where to put your hands because wherever you began to rest them your mind thought about if it looked weird. It made you feel like a kid waiting to finally be let loose on a playground. You felt so comfortable with him, that it was important for you to make a good impression on him. So when the waitress came back after you both ate a bite, you began to search for your wallet, as he smiled at you, his larger hand covering yours in a manner that told you he'd pay. "All on me." He simply said, as he payed, making you pout a bit.

Walking outside, he made sure that you were comfortable with him walking you home before walking side by side with you, never too close to not pressure you. After a moment, you began to speak. "I could've payed, you know-" You started, but he cut you off with a question.

"Why won't you call me by my name?" He asked, and you began to chew on your lip. There was no specific reason you could think of that would make sense to him. It just felt like you'd let him in if you were to say his name out loud. It was a taboo thing to call your superior by his first name, but that had been the past. Now it would mean that you were considering him your friend. Or maybe even.. more. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" He asked, and you shook your head immediately.

"No, its just.." You started, trying to think of something.

"Don't make something up now just for me. I promise I won't be offended; just be honest." He said, and you nodded.

"I'm not someone who, you know, lets people get close to me, normally." You explained, before you continued after he'd nodded, telling you wordlessly that he was following your words. "It just seems.. so intimate, if that makes sense?" Against what you'd expected however, he simply continued his gentle smile.

"That's okay. You don't have to love me right away." He offered, looking down at you with a smile. "Say it when you feel like it. We'll do whatever is comfortable with you." He offered, and you smiled.

"So you both did not, in fact, fuck each other." Jenny said, as she ate another spoonful of icecream.

"No, we did not." You said, and smiled a bit at the memory. Jenny had just gotten back from her business trip; a week full of torture as she'd called it. "We simply talked and he brought me home every day." You explained, and your friend fake-gagged playfully at that.

"Oh god, someone get me a grater for all that cheese!" She laughed, as she suddenly smiled a bit more seriously. "No but really, I'm happy. He seems nice." She said, and you nodded.

"He does."

"Do you treat everyone like me?" You'd asked one night as you shared takeout with Jungkook in his living room, having agreed to meet up at his place.

He shook his head. "Not to that extend, no. But I learned from my dad was common chivalry is- it's not that deep to be honest." He explained, as he continued eating. He looked so young like this; merely wearing a sweater and sweatpants combo, hair a bit unruled and piercings on full display. With all that business on his shoulders, one could easily forget that he was just a young man, even if he did turn 26 recently.

"Its not common, though." You commented, and he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back against the couch as he finished his meal.

"Do you want to take my bed or the couch?" He asked after a moment, after you'd finished your meal as well. You shrugged. "Then we'll sleep together." He playfully said, but got a bit shy after you'd simply nodded, not having noticed that he didn't truly mean his statement. No taking it back now though.

"Are you tired?" You asked, wondering if that was why he'd brought up the question. Jungkook was an honest guy, so he affirmed.

"A bit, honestly. Sorry." He said, but you shook your head, already picking up the empty containers and plastic bags to throw them away.

"It's fine." You simply said, as he nodded, his gaze following you for a moment before he opened the door to his backyard, ushering his dog to go out to finish his business before bedtime.

You knew you should feel at least a bit nervous, after all you'd be sharing a bed with him. But for some reason you weren't- even if something was to happen, you felt comfortable with him- enough to trust you at your most vulnerable state. At this point he'd already sneaked his way around your made up walls, way too close now to be let go off without pulling on your skin painfully at the same time. Hurting him would hurt you now- so you had simply accepted the fact that he was going to stay at your side for as long as he saw fit.

"Alright, bedtime mister." He said, leading the dog to its bed by the front door- a place his pet had chosen willingly, he once told you. "Goodnight." He mumbled, gently petting his companions head before he made his way inside his bedroom, where you followed. He closed the door quietly, turning on a small lamp on his bedside desk, before opening a window. "I like to sleep with the window open, hope you don't mind." He said, as you shook your head. You simply got into the bed after him, your way of trying to find out which side he preferred as you slipped under the covers, the smell of his by now familiar fabric softener, and distinctively his smell flooding your senses. His mattress was soft, way softer than yours at home- but it was probably worth several months worth of rent as well.

"I uh.." he suddenly said, low voice cutting through the silence after he'd turned off the lights, darkness swallowing the room fully. "I have a habit of, uhm.. undressing myself during the night so. Just to warn you." He said, before groaning a bit. "Oh god that came of kind of creepy, sorry-" But you simply laughed.

"It's okay. I hug things when I sleep, so I'll probably latch onto you during the night." You admitted, and he chuckled.

"Oh I don't mind that at all." He hummed, as you felt him turn over, probably to face you as your suspicions were confirmed when a finger almost shyly brushed over your bare arm. He was silently testing the waters, trying to find out if you were comfortable enough with him to let him go that far. To his surprise you reacted by scooting closer towards him, until your nose was close to his. He couldn't quite see you, only able to make out rough outlines as the moon wasn't shining at all outside his apartment. "Is that okay?" He asked, in a whisper, careful as if he didn't want to scare you away. He felt you nod as his hand went to lay down on your cheek, thumb finding your lower lip as he guided his onto yours, slow, as if he was only testing the waters yet.

Always so considerate.

You slowly deepened the kiss, a bit hesitant since it has been a while you'd ever kissed someone; but he took the lead after noticing you accepting his gesture, his tongue gently asking for entrance as you granted his wish, making him close his eyes as he lazily continued kissing you, his desire taking over.

Everything was slow, comfortable, and warm- the way he slowly moved to lean over you, the way his hands roamed over your body underneath your clothes. It was as if you both knew eachother already, as if you didn't need to hurry anything at all. And it was true.

He slowly undressed himself, before directing his attention towards you, helping you out of your clothes as well, careful to leave the covers over his body, as if to shield you from the chilly air coming inside from the opened window. He truly enjoyed every second, every inch of skin he laid bare of you, as his head dipped downwards, placing open mouthed kisses against your neck and collarbone as his hand gently ran over your chest, squeezing the soft flesh or a moment before his thumb grazed over the hardened nipple, making you squirm underneath him. You felt torn between a feeling of being worshipped almost, and the frustration of him going so slow. Every past sexual encounter had always been straight to the point- this was entirely new territory.

"We got time darling." He hummed suddenly amused as you began to squirm more underneath his touch. You felt his hard on against your inner thigh clear as day, yet he seemed to absolutely not notice it; his attention more so on you, as he suddenly moved underneath the covers, shaking his head a bit to get his long hair out of his eyes, piercings jingling brightly at his sudden movement before he dipped downwards, making you gasp as you felt his tongue on your center. He chuckled again as his hands held down your lower belly, keeping your hips down and legs open for him as he sucked and swallowed, making you whine at the feeling. This was the first time someone had ever gone down on you, and it made you feel absolutely incredible.

Jungkook moved again as you became close to your orgasm, hands fumbling around for a moment until he found in his drawer what he'd searched for; the crinkling sound of the foil package filling the room as you still breathed heavily. He rolled the condom over his length before he moved over you again, cooing at the cold feel of your damp skin, sweat making your body cool down rapidly. "Are you cold?" He asked, and you nodded, but held out your arms, desperate to have him close to you again. "Let me warm you up." He hummed lowly, pulling the covers over his back again before he led his cock into your core with the help of his hand, groaning at the feel of your warm walls welcoming him inside. He moved after a moment, kissing you again as if he needed to confirm that this was truly happening. "You feel like home darling." He whispered out of breath as he slowly moved a bit faster, your hands searching for his as he helped you find them, fingers intertwining as he felt his soul grow fond. He loved you, he truly did, and in that moment he realized it to the full extend. It was the same for you as he kissed your neck, hot breath against your skin making you feel protected and adored as he picked up his pace, thrusts becoming more erratic as he suddenly pushed himself inside you in one swift move, hand leaving yours to desperately move over your pearl, making your back arch off the mattress as you whined in pleasure, throwing him off the edge as well as he spilled inside the condom.

His forehead rested against your shoulder as he chuckled, slowly slipping out of you as you laughed along with him.

"I swear that was not my intention when I said we'd sleep together." He said, and you laughed a bit harder at that, kissing the side of his jaw affectionately as he kissed your neck. "I love you. I really do."

"That's okay." you said still a bit out of breath, and he wished you could've seen the bright smile he sported at your next words.

"I love you too, Jungkook."

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter 11

The big one! This literally took weeks to complete. I wanted it to be done.

We are inching ever closer to the end of this arc. Two more chapters I think.

This one is much longer than the recent ones, but don’t worry. That theme most likely won’t continue.

Warnings: // non-explicit blood, violence, and injury, Major Character Death(s) \\

Scar called upon all of his allies on an exceptionally cold evening, a wicked blizzard was blowing through the server as Scott walked hand in hand with Jimmy through the white-out. Even the desert wasn’t spared from the stirring storm.

A broken line of lights were ascending up Monopoly Mountain, all headed to the same meeting.

When everyone had arrived, warm drinks were passed around. Cleo, Bdubs, Tango, Scott, Jimmy, Grian, and the resident Enderman were huddled in the living area.

Scott was biting his nails, so to speak. He was pretty sure he knew what they were there for; and he was not excited. He sat next to Jimmy and begged that the Red Desert wasn’t going to start a war with Dogwarts. It was going to happen sooner or later, everyone knew that, but Scott felt an ounce of selfishness.

Things were going so well.

He was starting to feel like he was on the wrong side of history. Sitting in that room, Scott had been to Dogwarts after Grain and Scar had tried to burn Skiz’s banner. He was in the room when they started talking about war; and here he was again. In a room talking about war.

He was there for quiet conversations about nonstop threats from Scar and Grian, how they were going to protect themselves, and questioning why it had to be them.

Pizza was dead. The air was unstable, everyone could feel it.

Scar began talking about a plan to trap the Sand Castle. Grian was confident that their new bunker would protect them well enough and had even started moving their things out. Dogwarts was to be baited into the castle where Scar would be waiting for them, to pull the trigger and blow the entire building to smithereens with the Red Army inside.

The thought of it made Scott’s insides turn. He’d already jeopardized his entire mission by falling for Dogwarts, becoming their friend when he was supposed to hate them, he kicked up the dirt when he suggested that Etho’s house was flammable, another slip up and the house of cards he’d built could be pulled down around him.

The whole meeting Scott just sat on the couch feeling sick. Too cowardly to say it was wrong. When he knew it was wrong. Like always, he let someone else steer his life for him. Scott watched as everyone agreed and started leaving. A feeling of distance fell upon him as he walked back home, Jimmy in the lead this time.

Tomorrow. He only had until tomorrow to decide whose side he was on. Scott stared at the ceiling in bed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing a second of sleep when his pager started beeping. Already knowing who it was, Scott quietly left the house once more.

Dogwarts was eerily silent on top, but a quiet conversation emitted from the living quarters. Every member was sat around the room conversing with each other about their plan of attack. Tango shot him a glance when he entered the room, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from his conversation with Joel.

“Scott?” He whispered scoldingly when he was close enough, shoving the other to the most empty side of the room.

“I can’t do this Tango, I’m telling them,” Scott whispered.

“What? No, no, no, you can’t back out now! My god- Scott how could you even come here?” Tango hissed through his teeth.

“This is wrong! You know it’s wrong! I can’t just stand by anymore, I can’t do this to them,” Scott tried to keep his composure. He pleaded.

“And what about the others? What about you? Us?” Tango asked, his face was pale.

Scott closed his eyes, he’d done everything in his power to give as little information as he could about the Red Desert Alliance to Dogwarts. He wanted to protect people, of course, but he knew there was no escaping the war. Even if he didn’t say anything tonight. Something would happen tomorrow.

His friends were wrong, he’d grown enough to see that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drowning out the lump in his throat and turning away from Tango, who yanked his sleeve in a last ditch effort. It was too late.

Scott strode over to Ren, tapping him on the shoulder. The Red King looked down, dismissing Etho and addressing Scott.

“Hey dude,” he greeted.

Scott’s hands shook as he formulated his admission, “The Red Desert is going to war with you tomorrow,” he said. Plain and simple.

The horrific shock on Tango and Impulse’s faces could easily be read as concern for the Red Army.

Scott felt like he shrunk to the size of an atom as everyone took turns looking at each other. Ren brought a steady hand to his chin, resting it on his knuckles in thought. The lights glared pure white off his glasses.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room and gazed upon the map, leaning over it to ponder. Scott fell back against the wall, his heart was pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even paying attention when Ren started firing off about their plan of action.

He wasn’t listening when Tango yelled at him on the way home. All he could think about was what the hell he was going to do now.

The jig was certainly going to be up tomorrow. Someone was going to be accused of spying, and when one of them went down, so would the rest.

What would Jimmy think of him? Should he just come clean? Admit to joining the Red Army on accident and let him figure out how he felt about it?

It didn’t matter. Scott had three hours to rest his eyes, and spend possibly the last peaceful night he would ever have with his husband.

The morning was spent mostly in silence. Scott gathered his weapons and stocked his arsenal with potions. He stared at the wall and went over the situation in his head. Preparing goodbyes, apology speeches, everything he could think of that might go wrong.

“Hey,” Jimmy came up behind him, taking a fire resistant potion out of his hand, “I was scared you were gonna drop it if you floated away any further,” he sat down on the workbench.

“Are you scared?” he asked, taking Scott’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

Scott closed his eyes, leaning his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. He nodded his head, not in the mood to lie.

“So am I,” Jimmy confessed, “just promise me something?” he tucked Scott’s stray hairs behind his ears.

“No goodbyes,” he said. As if he was swearing it into existence.

Scott nodded, doing his best to smile optimistically. He held out his pinkie finger in a gesture of promise. Jimmy hooked his own pinkie around it and shook it a bit, leaning forwards to touch foreheads with the other before leaving to get his armor.

They left at dawn and shivered all the way to the Red Desert. It was exceptionally cold that morning. Like the weather was also fighting in their war. A small group of people was gathered at the bottom of Monopoly Mountain. Most of them were sat sharpening their weapons and counting their arrows. Scott spotted Tango and shot him the most apologetic look he could manage before excusing himself to talk to him.

“Tango,” Scott started.

“You know they’re going to be here any second,” Tango said, “so why don’t you tell us about the plan like you did for them?”

Scott was making his mind up about what he should say when an arrow shot into the sand near his feet. He looked up, scanning the tree line.

It was too late.

Everyone gathered on the sand snapped to attention, drawing their weapons and forming a group opposite to the Red Army. Scar was shaking his head, asking himself how this could happen. Scott walked wearily to the frontlines, his free hand was taken by Jimmy.

Everyone in the Red Desert looked at each other, then Scar raised his bow, and that was it.

Scott was jumped by Impulse. Better him than anyone else, even if his blows were a bit harder due to bitterness. They went back and forth stealing glances at the rest of the battle where a few mounds had been constructed to hide behind.

Impulse kicked Scott onto his back and kneeled on his stomach, taking his air. He leaned in, sparing nervous glances to their surroundings.

“I hope you got your fill of righteousness,” he hissed.

Scott gasped for air, “this was going to happen whether I had a part in it or not,” he said.

“How could you?!” Impulse shouted, but whatever else he was going to say was stolen when Bdubs rushed him from the side, throwing both of them off of Scott and into their own cloud of dust.

Scott breathed in a lung full of dust and rolled over, stumbling to his feet and spinning around to gauge the battle. It was a blur. His mind flew to looking for Jimmy. Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind a shield, where a stray arrow plunged into the wood.

“Where is Grian?” Tango shook Scott’s arm, sweat was rolling down his face through a coat of brown dust.

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since..” Scott froze.

Tango seemed to read the pallid expression on his face and nodded encouragingly.

Scott didn’t finish his sentence. He threw himself to his feet and sprinted across the battlefield, towards the border of the desert. A series of blueprints he’d seen all those weeks ago flashed through his head as he ran. Dodging arrows and slamming into his fellow server mates.

Finally, he rounded a barricade and saw what he was hoping not to see. A few hundred yards away, Scar was taking Ren and Martyn in battle. Inching ever closer to a disarmingly empty plot of land. Scott knew that if you weren’t aware, you’d barely be able to see the tiny windows sticking out of the sand.

“Scar!” he called out.

Nobody heard him.

Even if they did, there was no time.

The ground under his feet rumbled, causing him to drop his weapon before a flash of pure light pierced the air. He heard screams for a moment, but they were quickly drowned out by a wall of fire ejecting itself from the ground. Scott was knocked off his feet and launched through the air.

He hit the ground with a painful thud, but he didn’t come to a stop until he’d bounced head over heels a few feet further.

Scott’s nose was pressed into the ground as he rolled around in pain. He pushed himself to his knees with shaking arms.

In front of him was a gigantic, jagged crater carved into the ground. Smoke and fire billowed from its crude maw. Scott coughed and tried to wave away the suffocating ash to no avail. It permeated his eyes and throat.

Scott realized he had been rendered deaf for the moment, and partially blind for that matter. He struggled to his feet and outstretched his arms for balance, falling over twice before his purchase returned to him.

Someone grabbed his arms from behind and spun him around, touching his face and holding him up steadily.

“I can’t hear!” Scott shouted, pointing to his ears in case whoever it was didn’t understand him.

“Can’t see you,” he pointed at his eyes and then at where he assumed the person was.

The person took his hand and formed it into a fist, then interlocked their pinkie with his own.

“Jimmy?” Scott asked, he rubbed his eyes but his hands were taken away. Jimmy positioned his face gently and he felt water in his eyes, washing away the charred debris.

His vision returned to him as the stinging in his eyes subsided. Not so much the same for his hearing, but that was okay. Jimmy hugged him close and looked him over one more time, before tracing the word “stay” on Scott’s palm.

Scott nodded, watching the other go off into the smoke. Probably to help people.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Through the black smoke came a figure. Scott recognized it as Scar. He was climbing out of the crater. His movements looked painful, he was dragging something behind him.

It became apparent when he hoisted the object over the edge of the crater that Scar was dragging a limp Grian behind him. He laid the other out on the sand, hovering over him with concern etched on his face.

Scott crawled over, shouting to see if Scar could hear him. He pointed at his ears and shook his head. Scott wished he knew human sign language.

Scar turned his attention back to attempting to wake Grian, who wasn’t moving. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sensing that Scar was beginning to get very upset, Scott told him to sit back.

First he tried patting Grian on the chest, tapping his forehead, then observing him for any sign of breathing. His lips weren’t blue yet, he was still alive. Scott took his fist and pressed it deeply into Grian’s sternum, then firmly rubbed up and down.

Grian didn’t move at first, then his eyes flew open under his cracked glasses. His arms shot up to cover his chest and he cursed profusely at how he’d been woken up. He’d probably have a bruise for a while.

Scott motioned for him to calm down and breathe. Count to ten and back, and so on. Grian followed his instructions, wiping the dirt from his face and off his probably useless glasses.

Once he was sure Grian and Scar were fine, he quietly excused himself. The dust has started to clear now and the silhouettes of Dogwarts and the Red Desert alike were milling around, nobody seemed to be fighting anymore. Presumably lost without their respective captains. Scott’s ears has started ringing, and behind the din he could hear the ghosts of people shouting.

Scott idly counted the people around him. Some were huddled over a hastily constructed furnace attempting to brew last minute healing potions. As he counted, he kept coming up short. He counted again, and again. Every time there were two people missing.

He turned back to the crater. Whose smoke had started dissipating into the sky. He knew who was missing, and as he stared into the gaping wound of the earth, a hand reached up to the sky. Then came down on the jagged cliff, pulling the rest of the body to the surface.

Ren fell in a heap at the edge of the hole. Breathing hard from his journey to the top. Scott didn’t know whether or not to offer him help. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found, probably crunched beneath the debris of the bunker and the rest of the desert, and he was covered in a layer of collateral grime. It painted his clothes black and made his yellow eyes stand out.

He pushed himself to his knees with a lot of trouble, scanning the destroyed battle field with a mirthful expression until his gaze fell on Scott. The way in which they locked eyes made Scott flinch, he was in big trouble.

His mind told him he needed to diffuse the situation, but he was still without most of his hearing. It would be even harder if Ren had also been deafened. A familiar “why me” rang through his head. The urge to just leave and call everything quits nagged at him.

Ren stood on shaking legs and made his way, as quick as he could manage, into Scott’s personal space, who backed away; but he yanked his arm.

He stared talking very fast. Scott saw his mouth move but barely any noise actually processed in his mind. Scott shouted as clearly as he could that he couldn’t hear. Throwing in a few sorry’s as he went.

Ren dragged his hands from the tips of his ears down his face in frustration, his fingertips left smudges on his cheeks and over his eyes. He began doing sign language, but Scott shook his head.

By now a small congregation of people had started observing the argument from a distance. All of them more privy to what Ren was mad about than Scott was. Heat rose to his face in embarrassment as he tried to talk over Ren, trying to explain himself. Ren had started yelling as if it would help, and the argument was getting visibly heated when Jimmy stepped in.

He pushed Ren back with force so that he stumbled. This seemed to cause a chain reaction. Ren shoved Jimmy back, and they went back and forth until Jimmy threw a punch.

Scott attempt to make them stop, he came between them and ordered them to calm down, but tensions were far too high for any de-escalating. His emotions were verging on a serious breakdown, frantically begging the fight to stop. To let him explain.

Nobody heard him. If they did, they didn’t care.

Ren had taken out his damaged axe and started swinging.

Jimmy kicked Ren in the stomach, the ladder fell on his back and Jimmy kicked him again.

“Jimmy stop it!” Scott shouted, and he could almost hear himself.

Jimmy looked up at him, still standing over the Red King. His eyes were furious.

Something passed quickly in Scott’s periphery, so he turned around.

Behind him, one foot still propping himself out of the crater, was Martyn. A freshly shot bow still aimed in front of him. His eyes were dark and angry as he stared right past Scott.

Scott turned back to Jimmy, whose eyes were fixed and frozen on Martyn. He staggered back, looking down at his chest where a poisoned arrow had pierced his battle-worn chest plate. His hand wrapped around the projectile, and as if he weren’t even thinking, he wrenched it from his flesh.

Jimmy’s expression read as shock. Right before his eyes rolled into his head and he fell like a load of bricks onto his knees, then his back. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around the arrow. Covered in a mixture of blood and sickly green poison.

He fell, and he stayed.

Scott didn’t have a second to process. Not even the thought to scream, reach out, or run came to him. A blanket of nauseating numbness draped itself around him. His mind left him as he stared helplessly. He watched as Jimmy’s lifeless body grew tendrils of thorny vines until it was consumed indefinitely. Only an arrow wrapped in rose vines remained. Light green flowers bloomed and waved in the wind.

And as if he were watching himself on a screen, Scott did something that he didn’t know he could do. That he had forgotten he could do.

A flash of light illuminated the livid grey sky.

Just as fast, Scott had approached Martyn, who didn’t have time to run. He didn’t have time to put his arms in front of his face as Scott’s hand curled into a fist.

He brought his knuckles down on the center of Martyn’s face, an audible crunch sounded out as he was knocked off his feet. A horrified expression painted itself on his face as he held his bleeding nose.

Scott raised his fist again, and as he did a string of dry lighting spread across the sky. He aimed again, and when his fist met Martyn’s face, a bolt of light shot down from the sky. It turned the world into a pure white canvas with an ear piercing roar.

In its wake was a blackened patch of burning sand. Scott and Martyn sat just as they had been before, but Martyn would not get up.

His body lay bruised and burnt, eyes closed tightly in pain. The rose vines claimed his remains quickly, wrapping around a pair of bloodied hands instead of an arrow this time.

Scott stayed bent over where his friend had been. Tears streamed down his face as the static disappeared from his ears. He ripped his arms out of the thorns which tore at his bandages. Blood permeated the wrappings, but he didn’t know how much was his.

He pushed himself away, kneeling in the grave he’d created.

“Major,” someone said, cold and angry.

A hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, spinning him around forcefully. Scott had only a second to see that it was Ren, before he was hoisted up by the front of his shirt and thrown across creation. Landing hard on his ass for the second time that day. His shoulder made a nauseating POP, hanging limply and awkwardly at his side when he pushed himself up.

Ren placed his foot on his chest to keep him down.

Behind Ren, the greater alliance of Dogwarts had gathered. Confusion and betrayal was etched on their faces.

“Not a word, Major,” Ren said. Low and forced, his eyes were blown wide with something like fear.

Then he raised the handle of his broken axe over his head, the hilt made contact with Scott’s skull.

Lights out.

[caxsthetic]

DEMON'S PRAYER — Kita Shinsuke x Reader — Angels&Demons!AU

Episode 1: Last Task

Type: TV Series (Multiple Chapters)

Cast: Kita Shinsuke, Suna Rintarou, Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji

Storyline: You were just another soul to be bound, another task that he needed to complete. That was what inside his head when the king gave him the mission. Yet now as you hummed giddily in the kitchen, with his shirt engulfed your figure — he started to feel unsure.

Genre: Fantasy, Drama, Mature

Darkness. It was the only thing that predominated in this bottomless pit called hell. The freezing temperature biting the skin without mercy, sending shivers down the spine for those who just arrived. There was no intense fire that burned, such a contrast to how humans portrayed this realm.

Everything that unfolded here was just melancholy. Poor soul dragged forcefully by the reaper, some of them wailing — begging to be released. But some of them just had their head hanging low, accepting the twisted fate that they got themself into.

He could only snicker, at how those humans acted as if they didn't just kill their own kind, acting like bullying and stealing someone's virginity was not a sin. They never thought about any consequences that might come at the afterlife. Or maybe, they just never foreseen what waited for them after their heart stops beating.

His brown orbs glowed in the dark, amused as he looked down to where the reaper twins just got back from earth. Both of them always had some entertaining soul to drag. Usually, they even made fun of the once human, spitting some snide comment about wasting their life.

It was no surprise that one of the twins wished to be born as a human. From the longing look inside his greyish orbs, or how he seemed so harsh over all of the ungrateful sinners — the silver-haired reaper didn't enjoy the chance of life that was given for him.

Kita could not really see the reason why one of the twins seemed to seek a mundane life. Either demon or reaper, they were born as something more. They were gifted, all above humans that were just a tiny goldfish compared to them.

Ah, it was rude for him to call humankind like that. But it was the truth, at least from his point of view. Demons, just like angels — were both creatures created by the supreme. Both had artifice that was a lot higher than humankind.

Angels and demons stay in their own realm to do their jobs, worshipping the supreme deity. Or as for the demons, they were lurking under the shadows, doing all the impossible jobs to take care of all the sinners in this universe.

Kita never cared much about how everyone said the supreme just playing favourites by keeping the angels in heaven, and demons in hell. It was not like he did all the tasks for the omnipresent anyway. As long as he knew he could do anything if he had the king's trust, being good in front of the supreme was at the bottom of his list.

Propping his chin with a hand, his legs dangled at the edge of the palace's rooftop. He just got back from a task a few hours ago. Once again, of course, ended up in success. If his counting was right, he only just needed to finish one more assignment from the king.

Just one more before he could be granted the power to bend the rules as much as he liked, to go anywhere as freely without anything tying him down. Just one more, before hell being told to bow for him.

He really couldn't wait to be the king's right-hand man for all eternity.

"Kita-sama~" He gritted his teeth when his eardrum caught the familiar sing-song voice that belonged to his junior. "Don't ignore me like that, Kita-sama. I know you can hear me." It grew closer and closer to his side, wanting his attention so bad.

He didn't have to turn his face around to recognise who it was. The wind that suddenly occurred due to the flap of wings, causing his straight hair to dishevelled a little.

"What is it now, Suna?"

Suna Rintarou, another demon that clung to him ever since birth. All of the other demons always made fun of him, saying he was too pretty, too delicate to be called a demon. Even with the higher-ups, they were all used to calling him an imposter — an angel in disguise.

But when Kita became the only one who stood for him, guiding his path to be a real demon, all the whispers stopped. Suna was a lot more destructive, sadistic, having no mercy to any soul. His pretty face was just a facade, because behind it all, was a demon who never hesitated to decapitate sinners.

Sometimes, even to some innocent creatures.

"Satan's called." The younger demon stated mindlessly. "Saying about giving you one last order or something, Kita-sama."

Kita released a sigh with how careless his companion acted just now. Manners, something that the dark-haired demon always lacked off. Just because they were creatures which didn't really sound like they would care for such courtesy, they really had the utmost respect toward each other.

"You did not just call the king with his real name." His finger went up to his temple, trying to massage the headache that wanted to come. "How many times do I need to tell you that we address Satan as the king?"

Suna could sense the irritation that dripped on each word being spoken, even though the intonation was flat and filled with no emotion. Yet he knew the superior demon long enough to recognise the stern expression that showed disapproval.

"Sorry." It was such a short apology, but with how he landed his feet and closed his wings, Kita knew that the younger demon really meant it. Even though Suna could be so scary at the point everyone didn't dare to be within one-metre range with him, he always had such a different personality when it came to the brown-eyed demon.

“Just remember it next time.” And no matter how many times the younglings made mistakes, Kita always put a blind eye to it. “Where is the king? Throne room?” He stood up, dusting his clothes delicately even though there was nothing that stained the fabric.

“No, Sa— I mean, the king is in the garden right now.”

Kita raised his eyebrows in confusion. Everytime a demon was given a task, the king would be there in the throne room, wearing his almighty crown made of fire. And for three hundred years, he never thought that the king would even invite him to come to the garden — the place where it was exclusive only for the higher-ups.

“Alright.” Suna smirked when he heard the answer, always so straightforward. “I see that smirk, Suna.” But it changed into a flabbergasted one in an instant.

“Sorry. You just always amused me, Kita-sama.” Brown orbs pierced into his soul, as if telling him to continue his words. “The king just called for you, in his garden that all of us lowlife demons never see with our eyes. Yet you didn’t look afraid or nervous at all.”

“Well, when you said it like that.” Kita chuckled lowly from the honest words, flailing his black wings as he was ready to take off. He pondered a little, never thought much about it before since he only focused on his goal. “We all already met the king anyway, right?” His feet stride to the edge of the roof, turning his face towards the younger demon. “So why should I?”

And without even waiting to see Suna’s response, he let his body fall into the open air graciously. His eyes fluttered close, focusing on how the wind grazed his wings. He remembered everything, the different intensity for each metre he already dived in. It felt heavier every time he got lower and lower. Just a little more, a few more seconds.

His colossal black wings spread to the side in an instant as he turned his body to face the ground, smirking as he felt proud with himself. Just like any other day, he could reach the ground even faster with this method. A dangerous one actually, a unique talent of him that there was no other demon willing to try. Ticking another list for the king to like him even more.

Every demon was busy with their own job and tasks. They had to assign all the sinners with the right punishment, making sure that each of them understood well that hell existed and created for them to reflect. All the cried out, all the weeping soul and painful scream — it was just another sight that was common to happen.

He soared through every level of hell, down into the coldest place where he could even see a puff of air slipped from his mouth when he breathed out. It was mysterious as to why the king had his palace right on top of the mountain, but decided to have the lowest level for his oh-so-called garden.

Kita slowed down as he saw the blue fire that burns on the looming gate of the garden. He was hesitant to land, knowing exactly what kind of feelings that he would get by making contact with the lowest ground. But the king demanded his presence, and it was not proper for him to keep his wings spread in front of the devil itself.

He hissed a little when his bare feet touched the black soil. Every time he took one step forward, a trail of blue hue could be visible from where he stood before. It was fire, right underneath the ground was the scorching blue fire that the temperature was controlled by the king.

Finally standing in front of the gate, he looked down to his palm that had a burning scar from where he was still a little demon. It still haunted him sometimes, the searing sensation when his skin made contact with the blue fire. But he needed to believe the king, wishing that the gate temperature was lowered for him.

His hand pushed the gate so easily, and he couldn’t help but smirk in awe as the fire engulfed his finger. It was as if he touched nothing, as if the fire was just a mist. He was still in starstruck when he walked past the gate, following the trail of blue hue that led him deeper into the garden.

This was the first time he landed in this level with a real purpose. Back then when he was just a naive demon, curious about what lay within the deepest level of hell, he just knew that he despised fire — kinda tragic for a demon wasn’t it? But that was exactly what he felt after he burned his feet and palm, one that he felt the second he landed here around two hundred years ago.

Though right now as his orbs caught all the glimmer on the leaves vein, he forgot about the nightmare that once occurred in his life. There were no other colours in this place except black and blue. Even the plants, it had the exact structure like what he usually found on earth, but it was more extraterrestrial than those green seedlings.

Yet it still captivated him as he walked through the forest-like area; tall trees filled his vision, and with all the blue lines around its veins, making him think that each plant was so much alive. Another living creature, trapped as they could do nothing but grow.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

His eyes widened when the familiar smooth voice rang right on his ear. The way his body jerked slightly, resulting in a chuckle to boom through the entire space he was in right now. “Don’t be so uptight now, Shinsuke. You know I will never do my favourite demon no harm.”

Arose in between the gigantic trees, red eyes pierced into his soul. With a sight of the king, he immediately got down on his knees, lowering his gaze to the ground to show respect. Just like any meeting that they had beforehand though, he would get a chuckle from the king, indicating to him that it was enough, that he didn’t have to bow down.

Kita stood up gracefully, standing still on the same spot as he waited for any kind of information about the next assignment that he needed to fulfil. The king circled around the fountain that was installed in the middle of the space. Instead of water cascading down the black surface, it was fire. Overflowing from the top and down to the lowest pond.

“You must know why I call you here, right? That younglings having quite a big mouth, I know he would have no filter when it came to you.” It must be Suna. He thought. After all, there was no other young demon that was dared enough to talk to him.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then come here, Shinsuke. Take a look at the pond.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second, eager to gather as much information as he needed to. The once blue fire that filled the pond twirled into something else, a vision revealed in front of his eyes. There was a glimmer of earth, tall buildings and people passing by. From just seconds looking through the pond, he already knew where he should go next.

Now he just needed to know who. Which poor soul that he needed to bring to hell? What kind of sin that he needed to make sure the next human did?

Laugh, that was the first thing that he focused on. She looked so warm that it was even sickening for him, how could a human smile and laugh so freely to everyone who greeted her after all. He squinted his eyes, wanting to see her even closer. The way she gazed at everyone was nothing that he could see as a sinner.

There was no evil inside her, she just kept giving and giving. Not even one taking anything from the others. He parted his lips, wanting to ask what was exactly his task would be. But before he could emit a word, the vision fast forward to her slamming an apartment door.

Not even a second after that, she slid down into the floor, burying her head as she sobbed uncontrollably. He was frantic by now, deep down he just wanted to ask what happened to her, why she looked so fragile. Most importantly, why did she have to be dragged into hell?

She’s not even a sinner, she was just someone who needs help. He needed an answer, he had to know now why someone who was already broken, became his last mission? What kind of turmoil that the king wanted to see? Kita couldn’t look away from the pond, eyebrows furrowed as his mind wandered.

And as if the king knew what he was thinking right now, four words whispered to his ear — echoing inside his head as the next assignment.

“Make her kill herself.”

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[mallowstep]

okay, i got an ask about an alternative to the misty au where leopardstar helps rescue the mistyfoot and featherpaw, so tigerstar ends up punishing her instead, and here's my answer:

cw: sexual assault, parents/children being involved in sexual assault

I had a horrible no good about the Misty AU where Leopardstar helped them escape and....Tigerstar took one of her lives, then...sexually assaulted her while making Mudfur watch until he was sure she was with kits and then he told Mudfur: "Maybe she'll go the same way as her mother." (If this is too dark I apologize immensely.)

hello, anon. let's talk, shall we?

cursory things out of the way, i generally don't mind what people put into my inbox. that said, if you're unsure, you can always ask first. i try to answer "housekeeping" qs as soon as i can.

now, onto the ask itself.

god DAMN is this an idea. poor mudfur. he doesn't deserve going through this. nor does leopardstar.

but like. here's the THING. we were talking about tigerstar's power a while ago and -- he's actually not maximizing his usage of it.

see, he has a thunderclan pov. in thunderclan, leaders and deputies are supposed to be -- a team. that's why they're so often mentors and apprentices. because they're supposed to fight side by side. it's supposed to be a very close relationship.

if you read mtbnsof,

"They will be slaughtered," he said, and really, she should have learned her lesson, because he lunged again, and this time, it wasn't for her shoulders — it hurt, blinding, and her eyes shut — and opened. Squirrelstar was bleeding, but she was still alive. Rosepetal had tackled Bramblestar, before he could complete the blow.

that's like -- the model thunderclan deputy. you're supposed to pick a deputy who you are that close with.

that's (part of) why tigerclaw's betrayal hurts bluestar so much.

but in riverclan -- the leader represents all of riverclan, and the deputy is, their enforcer, perhaps?

they're still a team, and still one of the very close relationships, but you're more likely to see friends and siblings chosen, with the goal of -- balancing each other out.

a thunderclan leader and deputy should not publicly disagree. but a riverclan leader and deputy might.

so -- when tigerstar has stonefur killed, he's trying to prove that he has such power over leopardstar that she wouldn't even intervene to save her own deputy. which does work, but it's not the most effective way to control riverclan.

the most effective way to control riverclan would be to get both leopardstar and stonefur on his side, and then have leopardstar defer to him.

uh. so uh. what's the best way to do that, then? well.

tigerstar just has to threaten mistyfoot and the apprentices to keep stonefur obedient. "just has to" i mean ig what i'm saying is. if your family's lives are on the line, you're pretty damn willing to go along with things.

but -- how does he. win leopardstar.

he has kits with her.

because -- well First of All if riverclan's leader is riverclan, then the leader's kits are -- the future of riverclan. so if leopardstar has kits with tigerstar, then riverclan's future is tigerclan. yeah?

Second of All leopardstar is known to not want kits and not like toms, right? like -- riverclan leaders are under a fair amount of pressure to have kits because that is the future of riverclan.

and she's not leader for long enough for that all to play out, but she was the deputy for a while, and -- riverclan knows her. they know how she feels.

so. no matter how well tigerstar hides it -- riverclan will know that it's not voluntary.

and -- leopardstar is riverclan.

but like i just -- okay so god. this is. fljksd;lal;f; j. back on topic to the actual ask -- it's a very very interesting story. not something i Personally would write i don't think, because. i'm not sure i would do a very good job of it? i don't think i am -- sufficiently visceral, i suppose.

and this feels like something where. you'd want mudfur's realizations.

i think it'd be a punishment for him too, wouldn't it? he must have helped them escape. he must have known.

i think for me. like when i was writing "after the foxes have known our taste," one of the...one of the sections i was most -- invested in? was these two paragraphs.

"To talk." Leopardstar sits next to him, pulling herself in, like if she makes herself smaller, she will absolve herself of the guilt she carries. (And he knows she carries it. He was barely her deputy for a season, but he has known her his whole life. She will never say it — and because she never will, Mistyfoot will never forgive her — but he sees it in her shoulders.) "We used to be friends."

and then

Leopardstar nods, draws herself together. She looks like herself, again. Regal. Not for the first time, Stonefur thinks that Leopardstar would have made a more striking image on the Bonehill.

i think. leopardstar makes the decisions she makes for the good of her clan

(and oh, tigerstar would use that against her.

"Don't you care about the future, Leopardstar? There are no more kits in the nursery.")

and so in that moment with stonefur, she's...turning to who was supposed to be her counterbalance, and trading all of her pride and strength for vulnerability. and when stonefur -- not rejects her, but tells her he's not ready, she returns to Leopardstar of Riverclan.

but mudfur is her father. the moment of vulnerability with him in denouncement is

"Come with us," she says, pleading. She feels like a kit, begging her father to let her leave camp. "There will always be a space for you in RiverClan." "I thought I taught you better than that," he says, and there is warmth in his voice, like sun on water. "There is no point in keeping spent bones." Leopardstar cracks. She presses her muzzle into him, breathing his scent, past the herbs and illness that clings to him. "Please don't leave me," she says, even though she is the one who is leaving.

and -- while that's not misty au canon, there's a reason that at the end of "the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine," mudfur tells leopardstar she has work to do.

because by the time mistyfoot and featherpaw do escape, leopardstar has already, in mudfur's eyes, transgressed far beyond the forgiveable.

but now -- his daughter is hurt. and she's -- does she want his comfort? or does she try to be leopardstar of riverclan?

yeah. that's. some good emotional stuff to dip into.

i have -- tawnypelt to explore these ideas with. uh. tbisrasacw contains. sufficient implications but -- mistyfoot's treatment is uncomfortably public.

that's gonna come up again later, i think, but in tawnypelt's first fic, which i'm still toying with official titles for, but has the provisional title of "see them starving in the street," but uh there's a few ideas that it tackles.

all of these tackle -- several ideas. "heaven and hell were words to me" is probably the most, singular plot line of the fic. there's a reason i started with featherpaw's fic and not mistyfoot's.

tbisrasacw balances featherpaw and mistyfoot, and atfhkot is sliding between all of these different cats with moments of what stonefur feels peaking through.

i'm still deciding if i'm publishing "i didn't care much how long i lived" (feathertail) or "like this morning reveals to me" (stonefur) tonight, but idcmhlil is about featherpaw's relationships to other cats, so it naturally pulls in a lot of ideas, and ltmrtm is mistyfoot from stonefur's perspective, which means it necessarily pulls in many ideas.

but stsits is -- one character, many threads. tawnypaw's want to be accepted contrasted with her instictive horror contrasted with her belief that there is no going back contrasted with grappling with the fact that her father is -- uh. mistyfoot.

yeah.

and i don't know. i think. if tigerstar were to punish mudfur via leopardstar, that's one thing. but another thing is like -- depending on his precise interpretations, he could -- force mudfur to. be on "his side."

isolate him from leopardstar.

after all, the reason tigerstar fosters mistyfoot and featherpaw together is because it allows him to win mistyfoot's unthinking loyalty. but tigerstar has all of riverclan to threaten.

("You'll have my kits," he says, smirking. "Do you know why, Leopardstar? Because if something happens to this litter -- I'll take your worthless apprentice and kill her.")

he could -- turn mudfur. not actually, but make leopardstar believe he is.

("You deserve this," Mudfur says, and he is going to hell for this.

Tigerstar doesn't respond, and Leopardstar's ears pin back.

"Tell me, Mudfur, was her mother this pathetic?"

I'll take every last life from her, Mudfur, Tigerstar had threatened. Maybe I'll make you take one. Test me. It'll be fun to see her bleed again.

"Yes," he says, and Brightsky won't forgive him. I'm sorry, he thinks, but it's too late for that.)

i think -- in the misty au, tigerstar takes leopardstar's den. but he'd share it with her.

one of my favourite moments in tbirasacw is

She turns her head, meeting his eyes. He leans back, exposing his stomach, and Mistyfoot takes a moment to consider how easy it would be to tear him open. But she won't, and that's the point.

which you know. the forced intimacy and kindness.

(Tigerstar licks Leopardstar's cheek.

"Leopardfur," he purrs, his tail tucking around her.)

and more name shenanigans, because of course he would. if you've learned anything from this, it's that matthew likes contrasting kindness and violence, and matthew likes name shenanigans.

name shenanigans he would definitely pull mudfur in on.

("You'll call her what I tell you to call her," Tigerstar growls. He puts his paw over Mudfur's. "If I tell you to call her Leopardfur, you call her Leopardfur. You should be grateful I'm not telling you to call her a whore.")

i dunno What everyone would do when tigerclan was over. riverclan would have a Hell of a time.

leopardstar would probably appoint mistyfoot deputy and they'd -- grow closer together.

mistyfoot gave everything she had for featherpaw, and leopardstar paid the same price for the both of them. i think that is -- an apology in its own way.

(Mistyfoot sits with her when she gives birth. Mudfur reminds himself Brightsky was sick. That she did not die because of the kitting. Most queens don't.

Stonefur sits outside the den. Mudfur waits in his own, because he thinks he can't bear to know what he has done to his daughter.)

hm. yes. interesting idea to explore. i appreciate this ask.

<3

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.1

Type: One-shot/ch1 of a series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4100

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Neither Steve Rogers nor you consider yourself lucky though. It probably has something to do with the lines written on your skin. Because if the words are anything to go by, you’re not sure you want to meet each other.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF 

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Steve Rogers was born a sickly baby.

Born a sickly boy to a single mother in the time of great depression, money thin, his health even thinner and having a pathetic number of friends; though that never really bothered him. What his friendships lacked in quantity was hundred times compensated by quality. Bucky Barnes’ loyalty was everything Steve could ask for.

And what Steven Grant Rogers himself lacked in height and strength of body was made up for by the strength of will, amount of determination and a great compassionate heart, ready to welcome anyone sans bullies there.

Perhaps God had seen that Steven would grow into a man carrying his heart on his sleeve and decided that this man should be blessed with a love so magnificent they would tell stories about it; people always had. People were always telling tales about soulmates.

Having a soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare, but not everyone was bound to have one. Being one of the lucky ones was an amazing gift; a promise of a connection as unbreakable as the thread of fate, a promise of an unconditional love.

To know person had found the one, their soulmate, those who were blessed with one wore a brand on their skin, a clue to allow them to recognize their destined partner; a set of words.

It was the set of words what was troubling Steve Rogers the most. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, despite his mother’s last words, despite Steve willingness to fight everything else the world would kick into his way, he found moments in his life he cursed the words written on his skin, reminding him how weak he would always seem to people.

Above the visible line of his collarbone, sticking out on his rather skeletal frame, there sat the words of doom:

‘Oh no, there must be a mistake.’

The very first time his soulmate would spoke to him… they would be disappointed and silently praying that whatever force was behind bounding souls together made one hell of a misstep. A mistake.

That was what Steve was going to be to his soulmate; a mistake. A failure. A disappointment.

And why wouldn’t he be? Ninety pounds of rattling bones, list of illnesses longer than his birth certificate…. Every girl Bucky had ever tried to set him up with out of pity (which Bucky would deny until his last breath) had been disappointed.

“Maybe she’ll be more into brunettes. Maybe she won’t believe her soulmate is blond at first,” his friend would say, “or she’ll be from Queens and wouldn’t get over the fact you’re not, but once you’ll show her the true Brooklyn charm, she’ll fall to your feet.”

Then he would always pat Steve’s shoulder, pulling him into a one-arm hug and tried to get him a date once more.

Steve didn’t believe him. He never did, but recognizing his friend felt better if Steve played along, he would smile and poke his ribs in return.

“Whatever you say. Jerk.”

…

Much later, when he said to Peggy Carter that he was waiting for the right partner to dance with, he was starting to admit to himself that he wasn’t thinking about his so-called soulmate as the one. After all, he went against all odds, against rules, against destiny itself when he had been accepted to the army regardless of his fragile body. Maybe, just maybe it meant that not ending up with his soulmate was what would happen one day.

When he crushed the Valkyrie to the ocean, not even having taken a chance on Peggy Carter despite her obvious interest, he must admit he had been lying to himself.

His last realization concerned his soulmate; despite wanting to fight against the whole world, he couldn’t make himself to take a chance on Peggy Carter, a brilliant woman who was not carrying the right set of words.

His last regret was that he would never meet his true love.

His last thought was that maybe, his soulmate never had a set of words spoken by him on her skin – her first words to him might as well be the ones spoken when reading his obituary, somehow knowing he was supposed to belong with her.

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The moment you were old enough to understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’, you were intrigued by the concept; it probably had everything to do with the fact that you too were supposed to have a person meant to be your other half.

Every parent was bound to be delighted when their child was born with that kind of blessing, but the older you were getting, the more you understood what kind of a shock might occur when a kid had rather strange line supposedly spoken to them by their universe-chosen partner for life.

There were people who had words like ‘shit’ on them; literally. Not very delightful. Sometimes there were general lines like ‘Hello, how are you?”. Good luck hunting down the right person. In contrary, some people had a name on them; ‘Hi, I’m Peter Cameron.’ Lucky bastards.

And then… then there were people like you, whose words were just… weird.  

“But I really am 95,” you mumbled under your breath, tracing the handwriting right under your collarbone subconsciously, the first thing you did in the morning if you remembered – which wasn’t every day, not by a long shot.

“This is the stupidest thing ever…”

You shook your head and started to get ready for your day at the office.

Your opinion on your soulmark had been changing during the years. You had had a period of fascination, simply being proud of carrying it. Then you had understood the meaning of your words, and you had been horrified and desperate at the idea of meeting your soulmate at such age or worse, having one that old while you would be thirty or something when encountering them.

Then had come the phase of how could I avoid having a grandpa as my soulmate. Maybe the number meant something different – your soulmate’s weight (you really wouldn’t care for that, you reasoned), his temperature (he might be hypothermic at the moment, no?), his hotel room number, the number of a seat in a theatre perhaps… there were so many possibilities, right?

Now, you just tried not to think about it too hard. You had had boyfriends, never lasting longer than few months sans the one exception of George, who had turned out to be the biggest asshole in the world despite your belief he had might have been the one; until you had caught him in bed with another girl.

Maybe it was that deep inside you had never believed in the relationships you had, because the guy never said the right first words. Or maybe you were full of shit and you couldn’t keep a guy interested, god only knew – hence not thinking about it too hard, going on with your life and taking it as it was.

You might meet him, you might not. It wouldn’t be the first case of never encountering a soulmate. Life was funny that way.

Best not to let it ruin your day. A rather nice day it was, today. If you only didn’t have to spend it in the crowded office with people demanding their licences and taking out their frustrations on you. Well. You were a grown-up; you had to be okay with things not always being okay. Which sucked. But that was life.

…

You had a chance to have a shortest coffee break to exchange ‘hello’s with Ryan – your actual favourite person in the world, your platonic ‘soulmate’ (not in the ominous sense of the word), your boss who never really acted like a boss – and that was it. Apparently, half of Manhattan had gotten their licence this very date years back, so the office was ridiculously crowded. Thank god for the glass between you and the jungle; it shielded you at least partly.

You grabbed the file of request no. 57 that day – you were like a machine, okay, you couldn’t remember the office ever managing to deal with so many in only three hours – pulling out the documents and the licence to make another driver happy.

Your hands were acting on autopilot and you didn’t even glance up when an ID was pushed to you through the small space between the glass and the counter, checking the renewed licence first.

Your first thought was ‘oh wow’. That guy on the photo was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but snap your head up, checking out the real-life thing.

OH WOW.

Scratch the ‘gorgeous’. Replace it with ‘unreal’.

You were tempted to ask if he was made by an ancient sculptor and then brought to life, because his body was as incredible as his face; the broadness of his shoulders begged for a touch. His muscular arms were not so hidden in the sleeves of his dark green shirt. The shoulder-waist ratio was clearly a God’s mistake, a one you were thankful for.

Forget ancient sculptures. His face must have been sculptures by angels and they left him with a halo of blond hair as a reminder. And his eyes. Oh god, such pretty eyes…

He gave you an unsure smile, opening his mouth to probably accuse you of staring and you quickly dropped your gaze, returning to check the licence before you would give it to him.  

Your hand froze hovering above the date of birth. You hesitantly looked up again, biting your lip guiltily despite not being the one who had messed up. You felt kinda sorry for him waiting the line for nothing.

“Oh no, there must be a mistake…” you half apologized, half said only to yourself, meeting his suddenly alarmed gaze.

You put on your most apologetic face, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. How had someone messed it up again? The birth dates were with typos all the time. How?! There were only numbers for God’s sake! It wasn’t like the person inserting the data to the computer had to spell Buchwald or Mxyzptlk or something like that!

Damn you, Sheryl or Kira or you whoever have done this!

The man – Steven Grant Rogers, as you had learned from his sadly valueless driving licence – was staring at you, speechless. You were honestly getting worried, though you weren’t sure if you were more scared for him or for yourself in case of his reaction escalating.

So you went to explain.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry, mister-“ You quickly eyed the name ID he had given you, checking if the office got the name right at least. “-Rogers, but there seems to be a typo in… in your birth date. I apologize for the mistake our institution made, even though I wasn’t the one to-- you don’t need to know that, it doesn’t matter-- I’m so sorry you have to come here again, but I can’t really let you walk around or rather drive around with a licence claiming you were born in 1918, so…”

You had become so flustered, your cheeks burning, talking and talking without being able to stop, not making any sense even, until-

“But I really am 95,” he admitted sheepishly and you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, when something in your brain clicked.

The click was about as loud as an atomic bomb falling on Hiroshima. You were sure everyone had to hear it.

It shut you up immediately. Your whole body froze, your mind buzzing uselessly, not a single thought staying long enough for you to actually understand it. Until two words got stuck, shining in red letters like a neon sign in your brain.

Holy. Shit.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, grabbing his useless licence and mechanically rising from your seat, walking away.

The moment no one could see you as you got into a hallway, you broke into a run. You acted on instinct. You ran and you ended up in front of Ryan’s office, stumbling in without knocking and without an atom of oxygen left in your lungs.

Ryan’s neatly combed hair swayed as he snapped his head to the door, his eyes strict until they took the newcomer – hint: you – in, widening instantly.

He quickly jumped to his feet, pacing to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with worries.

You weren’t able to answer, because—holy shit. Your eyes frantically scanned the room, unable to meet your friend’s gaze. “I-- I-“

A hand landed on your shoulder, your eyes immediately falling on it on instinct. Shit, you couldn’t breathe. Could you?

Ryan’s free hand found you chin, tilting your head so you faced him. “Hey, baby, look at me! What happened? Was someone too much of an asshole to you?”

“I’m not-- he’s-“

Ryan’s face screamed concern, but he had fixed it in a second, soothing smile on his lips. He led you to his sofa, the calming blue cushions enveloping you.

“Sit down on your ass and gimme that,” he maneuverer the document off the steely grip of your fingers, sitting next to you as he looked it over. “Huh, quite a looker this guy. So what did he do?“

“I—the- the licence says he was born in---in 1918,” you stammered, finally able to breathe in properly and speak.

Ryan squinted at the date and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh jeez, again? Why is it so hard to just get it right? I swear I’m gonna have to fire Sheryl, she’s a disaster. What’s wrong with her? It’s not like they would be making a licence for someone that old! There’s a photo goddammit!”

“Ry-Ry… he said he was 95.”

Another eye-roll was his answer. “Yeah, I can count. He would have been if he was born in 1918 instead of 1981.”

“No, you don’t-“ you licked your lips and swallowed against the lump that grew in your throat. Your voice was as shake as your hands. “He just told me that. That he really was 95.”

Your friend observed you silently for a beat, not following. And then realization hit him like a train.

“Oh. OH. No shit?!”

It was your turn to stare silently, your mind loud enough to make noise and fill the space of Ryan office.

“Damn, does he really look like that? Lucky bitch!”

“Ryan!” you yelped in surprise when his fist bumped your shoulder, almost knocking you off balance.

It worked though. It grounded you and threw you back to reality. You tried your best to calm your breathing, but damn. This guy… he was your soulmate. You just met your soulmate. And he wasn’t a grandpa. He didn’t weight 95 pounds either. You weren’t in a hotel, neither in a theatre.

No. The number was only about one tiny mistake— oh, ohhh shit, what was the first thing you had said to him? Oh fuck. Way to go, girl!

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked rubbing the spot he had punched.

“No!” you shot back immediately, your mind racing.

“You know what I mean. You look better now. Though I gotta say, so is he. His face really is quite easy on the eyes. How about the rest of him?”

Ry-Ry, your bi-side is showing.

You chuckled at the easy talk, the tension from your shoulders falling a bit.

“Well… yeah, he’s like a model. So out of my league…” you muttered, remembering your ogling. This guy was your soulmate? Wasn’t it a mistake?

Ryan was suspiciously quiet; normally you would expect him to scold you for selling yourself short. Instead, he was staring at the licence, his lips parted in silent shock.

What now?

“What?” you demanded, following his line of gaze.

Ryan just chuckled, the incredulous sound ringing, echoing in the quiet space. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but I might not fire Sheryl just yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Remember that one time aliens were falling from the sky?”

You blinked in surprise at that question, not following his train of thoughts. “Uhm… yeah? Pretty hard to forget that…?”

You were lucky you hadn’t been smashed under a building that day. Many people in Manhattan were, some sadly not. So yeah, you remembered.

“You remember the waitress from the café talking after the incident?”

“Oh my god, Ry-Ry, just spill it! I’m not following!”

Your friend huffed in exasperation, shoving the licence in your face, his finger on the name.

Steven Grant Rogers. Yeah, you could read too.

“That name should ring a bell, you dumbass! Would you say that this guy is handsome enough to be Captain America?” he hissed, making your heart stop.

Oh. Oh shit.

OH SHIT.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh my god. He really is 95,” you breathed out, your brain somehow choosing the least logical reaction to this whole revelation.

Ryan laughed. “Ding-ding, we have a winner! Holy crap, baby, I think you just got yourself a superhero soulmate!”

And just like that, you started panicking again. You gulped, watching the driving licence as if it could blow up.

“Shit, Ry-Ry! What do I do?” you whispered, desperation soaking through. What were you supposed to do upon that revelation? Captain America was your freaking soulmate!

Ryan smiled at you reassuringly, patting your cheek. “Not coming back to your spot behind the counter today, that’s for sure.”

“But-“

“I’m going in. I think this place won’t blow up if I fill in for once. I sure hope I remember the process, though I’m probably not gonna be as efficient as you are.”

You didn’t know what to say. Hell, you didn’t know what to do! But yeah, not coming back to the jungle sounded good, especially given your frantic escape.

“You really would do that?” you asked hesitantly and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “But… Ryan, what the hell do I do?!”

Your bestie gave you a lopsided smile and a wink, patting your cheek patronizingly once more before heading to take over your workplace.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”

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While you were having your own freak-out, Steve was standing at the counter, dumb-struck.

He couldn’t believe it. You had actually said those words. And judging by your reaction to his own, he must have said yours. Which… yeah, congratulation, Rogers, you had given your Universe-chosen dame an amazing note on her skin. To be fair, so had she.

Incredible.

Impossible.

His soulmate was in this century. In this millennia. That was what he got for ever thinking he could escape fate; a slap right in his face.

Because while for several cherished moments, he basked in the light on his soulmate not considering the pairing with him the infamous mistake the words on his skin claimed… he soon learned that it didn’t mean no heartbreak for him.

You had taken an abrupt leave to the back of the office and never came back.

Few minutes later, a man emerged from the door you had disappeared into, taking your seat and without a second look on Steve’s ID, he explained that Steve would have to come here again.

Steve didn’t care for the process of getting his driving licence renewed in the slightest, barely listening. His gaze was at the door to the hall, opened ajar, the door you didn’t return from after learning he was meant to be your partner.

When he had seen you behind the desk, he had considered you a beautiful dame, certain his heart had skipped a beat when your eyes met his. The sight of you was burned into his brain, now forever as a painful memory.

Clearly, you didn’t want him. Not because he was sickly, 95 pounds or 5’7’’ or all bones. Not because your words to him were about a mistake. Not because he was from Brooklyn. No. Honestly, Steve didn’t know why, what could scare you off so soon. He just knew you had escaped at the mere sight of him.

With his mind fuzzy, he walked out of the building into the bright nearly midday sun, blaming the sharp rays for the sting in his eyes. He sighed, running his hand down his face, suddenly bone tired.

“Mr. Rogers?” a shy female voice addressed him, instantly making him turn around to its source.

His lips parted in awe. There you stood, your airy floral dress reaching your knees, played with by the softest breeze. Hesitant smile on your lips. A tiniest spark in your eyes as he subconsciously took two steps to you, just to prove you would still be there if he came closer. You didn’t disappear.

“Y-yes?” he stuttered, actually feeling like the small man he had used to be before the serum.

You quietly introduced yourself, meeting his eyes once more, effectively stopping his heart again. You offered your hand for him to shake and he, feeling like he was dreaming, something else possessing his body, kissed your knuckles as he would have done if meeting you seventy years ago.

The most adorable heat warmed your cheeks at the gesture and you casted your gaze down; but Steve did catch a glimpse of the earlier spark shining brighter before you hid yourself from him

“I… I believe we have a lot to talk about,” you whispered and he instinctively gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and shifting a half step closer to you. The corners of his lips unwittingly turned up, something warm building up in his chest as you returned the smile with hesitance.

“Yes, I think we do.”

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Nicolas J. Fury was sitting in his office, waiting for the door to finally open. There was something bugging him – and that something was about 5’7’’ tall, had red hair and was doing whatever it wanted, messing with his business. On top of that, she left him waiting; he had requested her ten minutes ago and she still hadn’t arrived.

He couldn’t help but let his sarcasm show when she came eventually.

“Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming. Now, care to explain me why did you insist on Rogers getting his driving license renewed in person when we have done it for him already?” he demanded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk.

The agent just shrugged. “He needs to meet people.”

“Don’t give me this shit, Natasha! What are you not telling me?”

Slow smirk spread Natasha’s lips, perhaps a bit smug, but she didn’t say a word.

“Romanoff-“

“Alright! Jeez, Nick, you have to work on your patience when it comes to Rogers, I swear…” she teased him. However, at least she started talking. “I might have run his… words through the system Stark provided us.”

Realization dawned to Fury. There was only one system she could be talking about. The soulmate matching one. Insert the words of a person and it would search the database for a possible match; everyone’s words were being put into the database at their birth. It made SHIELD’s work easier in case criminals happened to have a soulmate; the connection was so unique it usually offered a weak spot even for the rotten people.

Nicolas Fury raised his eyebrow expectantly, while Natasha just watched him, amused as she had the upper hand. The man rolled his functioning eye and sighed exasperatedly. Why was he keeping her around again? Oh right, she was his best agent.

“Fine. Did you find a match?”

Natasha snorted. “I didn’t even have to look for a match. There aren’t many women with ‘But I really am 95’ written on their skin,” she explained dryly and Fury just wanted to growl, cursing mentally.

How had no one thought about using the database in the first place?! It had cost them a lot of money, okay? They had it for a reason!

“She clean?” he inquired instead or swearing out loud and Natasha scoffed.

“Like a whistle, not even a speed ticket, which is rather ironic. She’s boring, really – she’ll be perfect for him. Can I go now? I have an ass to kick.”

“…Rogers’?”

“Barton’s, actually. Have a good day, Director,” Natasha spun on her heels and headed to the exit gracefully.

“Hey, I want her file!” Fury complained, already knowing he wasn’t going to receive it from her.

“Find it yourself!” she threw over her shoulder cockily, her red hair swirling with the sudden movement of her head.

The director of SHIELD tried to keep his amusement in check, controlled by the irritation, but he lost. The corners of his lips twitched as the door clicked behind his best spy.

Why did he keep her around again?

He started the search for the words Natasha had said, sinking into his chair comfortably.

Alright, no doubt future Mrs. Rogers. Let’s see how boring you really are.

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Part 2 (originally this was only meant a one-shot)

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx​

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Thank you for reading!!