#i love to see his miserable exhausted sick sick sick animal eyes

[compressednerve]

Decided to make Suicide King my home screen again... it's been roughly a year since I last had him as my phone bg 😭 I missed him

[warmblanketwhump]

flight plan: part 2

no planes in this one - just some good old-fashioned sickfic! But if you want the backstory, check out part 1 here.

“A, can you hand me my glass of water? Pleaaaase?” B sticks out their bottom lip in a pout, and A can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, you. It’s been four days and I know you’re getting better, because you’re getting pesky again.” A straightens the blankets and slides their hand up to feel B’s cheek. “Still a little warm, but I think you’re on your way out of the woods.”

“So I should milk this while I can?” B flutters their eyelashes and gives a pitifully fake cough, which slips into a real one, sharp and rattling. Concern flits across A’s eyes, and they help B take a few sips from the glass.

Despite the joking, A didn’t kid themselves about how sick B had been, or how awful they’d truly felt after getting off the plane. The first two days had been nightmarish - B barely conscious, shivering with chills and sweating through their sheets, alternating between terrifying fever dreams and inconsolable moaning and weeping.

A did their best to hold them through it, but they had been minutes away from hauling B to the hospital. Thankfully B’s fever had spiked just one final time before settling into general low-grade misery.

“As long as you need me, sweetheart, you’ve got me.” B gives a tired smile and pulls the blanket to their chin, huddling around the new stuffed animal A gave them at the airport.

“Did you call C?”

“Ah, not yet. Too busy with you, ya sick little bean.” A gently fluffs B’s hair. “You rest, and I’ll give them a call now.”

But C doesn’t pick up. Nor do they pick up an hour later, leaving A stuck with the unpleasant task of leaving a voicemail.

“Um, hi…this is A. I just wanted to call and let you know that B’s on the mend. They’re still pretty weak, but I think things are looking up. So…yeah. Thanks for everything you did for B - once they were feeling better, they told me all about what you did. And I…well, I care a lot about them. Obviously. So I appreciate it. I guess you can call back if you-”

The message cuts off, and A groans. Hopefully that was enough. Still, they couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of their stomach.

Later, they settle in with B to watch a movie, B’s head cradled in their lap as A combs their fingers soothingly through their hair, reveling in the sheer normalcy of it all. They both end up falling asleep, and when A blinks awake as the credits roll, they notice a missed call from C. B’s still out, so they click to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey, A….sorry I *coughs*…missed you earlier. Wasn’t able to *sniffs* make it to the phone. So glad to hear that B’s *cough cough* doing better. I think they did a little sharing.” C laughs weakly, but A can hear the sheer exhaustion in their voice. “Anyways, glad they had you. And if you’ve got any survival tips, feel free to pass them along…..I’m just kidding. *cough* I’ll be fine. Anyways, I’ll…see you around, I guess.” They pause briefly, like they want to say something more, but a coughing fit steals their breath away, and the message ends with a click cutting off the rough gasps.

The pit in A’s stomach comes back. C sounds sick.

“Who….who was that?” B mumbles from their spot on A’s lap.

“It was C. They called back and they….didn’t sound so good.”

B’s eyes snap to meet A’s, more alert than they have been in days. “Did they sound like me?”

C pauses. They hadn’t thought about not telling B, but in hindsight, maybe they should have. After all, it’d only flood B with guilt, and they needed all the energy they had to get well. But one look at B’s concern, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to lie.

“Yeah. They did.” Immediately B struggles to push themselves up, throwing their blanket off their shoulders and trying to stand.

“Whoa, hold it there. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To C. If they’re sick, it’s from me, and if any hints from the past four days of living with me are any indication, we gotta help them.”

A throws their hands up, pressing B back on the couch. “Hold up. We don’t know them, we don’t know if someone’s already taking care of them, and we don’t know where they live. I’m sure they’re-“

B frantically shakes their head. “You didn’t hear them. On the plane. From what they said…I don’t think they have anyone. I have to go.”

A chews their lip. “Well, let’s get things straight first. You’re in no shape to go help them. Which leaves me. A random stranger they don’t know. And you want me to check on them?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but B nods vigorously and fear fills their eyes with a fevered anxiety. “A, you saw how sick I was. You think anyone’s gonna be able to fight through that alone?”

A sighs wearily. They could blame it on the fact that arguing with a sick B was like arguing with a brick wall. But truthfully, what did their heart in was the thought of B alone on that plane, sick and shivering and miserable, if C hadn’t helped.

Fine. They’d send a text.

You okay? You sounded kinda rough on the phone. B was worried….

A few moments later, C responds.

Eh, I’ve felt better. But thank you for asking. And tell B not to feel bad. They were a better seatmate than most.

A smile tugs at A. At least this C was polite.

Is there anything you need? B said something about you being by yourself.

This pause was longer. The dots appeared and disappeared a few times, before a message came through.

I hate to take advantage, but is there ANY way you could bring over some cough medicine? I ran out a couple days ago. No worries if not - I can figure it out.

C’s heart sank. So they were alone. Sure, they didn’t say it - but any good friend or significant other worth their salt wouldn’t leave someone they loved without medicine for days.

I’ll bring some to you! Want to meet somewhere neutral, or just want me to drop it off?

In moments, C sends a response and an address.

Dropping off is fine. You are an actual lifesaver.

A settles B into bed with blankets, a cup of water, hot tea, and six types of medicine on the side table. “Now if you get worse, call me and I’ll turn around immediately. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?”

B shook their head. “I’ll be fine. They need someone.”

A heaves a sigh. “You’re too good, you.” They give B a quick forehead kiss, and head out into the night.

By the time they get to C’s apartment, their stomach is flip-flopping - C is a stranger. A lonely stranger, but a random stranger nonetheless. They come to C’s door and knock tentatively, gripping the paper bag of cough medicine (plus some cough drops and Tylenol for good measure), and hold their breath.

Nothing. A few minutes go by and A knocks again. They’re ready to break down the door if C doesn’t answer soon, but they realize what took so long right after they hear the click of the deadbolt.

A had seen corpses that looked more alive than C did right now. They lean heavily on the doorframe, sweat beaded on their forehead, a thick grey throw blanket clutched tightly around their shoulders. Their face is hollow and devoid of color, lips dry and cracked, their hair mussed and matted to their head. The cool night air hits their fevered body, triggering a round of chills that make them shudder. Despite their misery, a tiny light of gratitude flits across their eyes, and they stare incredulously at the paper bag in A’s hands.

“C….” A’s jaw drops to the ground.

“A, I seriously owe you one.” C tries to laugh, but it turns into a wheezing chest cough, high pitched and tense as they fight to catch their breath. Their eyes blink slowly, and they start to slide down the doorframe, but A grabs them and they both tumble inside.

Even through the blanket, A can feel C’s every bone. C weakly clings to A as they stumble toward the couch, and A deposits them on the cushions before tearing into the package of meds.

“What have you taken so far today?” A asks, trying to figure out the dosages.

“I….nothing…” C mumbles. A meets their eyes in disbelief before cracking open the blister packet and retrieving a proper dose. Grabbing an empty glass on the side table, they fill it before helping C choke the pills down. C greedily gulps the whole glass, breathing heavily once they’ve drained it.

“Water…water’s good.” C smiles blearily - they’re almost completely out of it. A presses a hand to the side of C’s neck, and C flinches at the cool touch. Their neck feels like a bank of hot coals, slick with sweat, lymph nodes sore and swollen. Their forehead isn’t much cooler either.

“C, when’s the last time you ate or drank anything?”

C cocks their head like A just asked them to recite the entire periodic table. “I….not sure? Days….kinda blurry.”

A’s seen enough. “C, you’ve got to go to the hospital. I haven’t even seen your temp, but you’re burning up even worse than B was.”

C frantically grasps at A’s wrists, sharp panic flooding their eyes. “Please…no…no hospital. I can’t. The meds….I’m fine here. Please.” A shiver wracks their body, and they hunch their shoulders, wrapping themselves back up and pulling the blanket over their nose. “Please. You can go now.”

“C, you need help-“

“I don’t.” Their voice breaks on the last word, cut off by a brief hiccuping sob.

Confusion rises through A - one minute C’s a grateful wreck, and the next moment they’re demanding they leave?

“C, I don’t understand-“

“You don’t get it. You think it feels all nice, having people care about you. Making you feel like you matter. And then they leave you. Get tired of you. Decide you’re not worth it. And it hurts worse than if they were never there at all.” C scrubs their eye with the corner of their blanket and sniffles as tears run down their cheeks. “I can’t let it happen again. I have to be alone. So just go. Please.”

A’s speechless. They kneel down next to the couch, hand tentatively hovering above C.

“C, is it okay if I put my hand on you right now?” C’s still sniffling, but they nod and mumble a weak “yes”, and A gently lets their hand rest on this stranger’s shoulder.

“C, I want to respect what you want right now. But you should know that you’re very sick. And you’ve managed in your own way - how, I have no idea - but you need some help right now. Now I can either call the hospital and let them handle it, or take you home with me. It’s up to you. Otherwise, you need to look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you want to be left alone through this.”

They squeeze C’s shoulder, and it triggers a deep gasping sob from their broken, aching body, sending a fault line straight through A’s heart. The sob turns to weeping, and A can barely make out the words C whimpers: "I don't want to hurt anymore."

God, who broke this poor thing? A bites their lip. C’s losing it. They’re running out of options short of forcing C to come with them, and that’s the last thing they want to do to a delirious, love-starved person who’s known them all of 6 minutes.

“C, I’m not gonna hurt you. I want to help you. Heck, even B wants to help you. I had to practically pin them down to the bed before leaving, they were so hell bent on this rescue.”

C’s red, swollen eyes meet A’s. “You mean….they asked after me?”

“Yes. They did. They could hardly stop talking about you once they came to their senses.” A rubs C’s knee through the blankets. “And they’d never forgive me if I left you here alone - they were very adamant about that. So if you want to save me a lot of arguing with and consoling of a very sad B, you’d actually be doing me a favor coming back with me.”

C seems to be weighing their options, all while struggling to stay awake on the couch. “I mean…if it saves you the trouble….”

A’s the one nodding vigorously now. “Please. It would.” Please. Just come back with me. I can’t leave you here like this. But I don’t know what else to do.

C presses themselves up off the couch with a single shaking arm. “Well, if it’d help you, then I accept.” And then they promptly pass out into A’s waiting arms.

It’s late when A gets back home with a limp C, and B is knocked out in their room, light still on - they’d tried to wait up, but their body still craved rest.

A carries C over the threshold and into the house. They gently lay the bundle on the bed and feel their forehead - still too hot, but the medicine seemed to be working. They manage to wake C up enough to take a few sips of broth from a mug before they pass out again.

For the briefest moment, A lets their hand touch C's shoulder again, making a silent promise they barely know how to keep: I don't know who broke you, but I'm not gonna let you hurt any more. I won't allow it.

A wave of exhaustion floods their body as they feel the effects of several late nights and long days of caretaking. They'd be no good to anyone if they didn't get any rest. A drapes an extra blanket over C’s sleeping form and heads for the couch for the night - they’d check back in an hour or so.

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

B’s awakened by the sound of sniffling. And it’s not theirs. They blink tentatively in the lamplight, sleep clouding their thoughts. Snatching a blanket from the top of their bed, they wrap up, stuffed animal under one arm, and shuffle across the hall to see where the sound is coming from.

It’s C, swathed in two blankets, holding a wad of tissues and trembling like a leaf. B flicks on the bedside table lamp, and C winces at the light. B can see the tear stains on their cheeks.

“Cold,” C whimpers, coughing weakly. Pity floods B - it’s like looking at a picture of themselves just a few days ago. They reach out and put their hand on C’s head, and C leans into the touch.

“Yeah, this part sucks,” B says softly, guilt flooding their core. Sure, they didn’t mean to make C sick. But they did. And they felt a certain responsibility to make sure they made it through okay - just like C had cared for them on the plane.

“Can I get you anything? Another blanket, tea, medicine?”

“Throat hurts…water…please?” B nods and places the stuffed animal next to C before beginning the long, slow shuffle to the kitchen. A’s asleep on the couch, and they can’t bear to wake them up for something this small. But by the time they get to the kitchen, their legs are trembling with exertion. Easy there. You’re still sick, too.

They brace themselves against the sink as the glass fills, and will themselves to make the final journey back to C. By the time they’ve returned, the glass feels like a lead weight in their hand, and their entire body is chilled and shivery all over. They do their best to help C take a few sips, holding the glass with trembling hands, bracing themselves on the bed so they don’t tip over.

“Thank….thank you,” C’s grateful eyes meet theirs, and in a split second B knows the effort was worth it. But the validation is replaced with a bout of lightheadedness that nearly topples them onto C.

“Sorry,” B gasps. “Still not up to marathons yet. Just...need a minute.” They tug their blanket tighter, closing their eyes. “And this body forgot how to stay warm when I do stuff.” C’s eyes flood with concern - even in their fevered haze, they can see B struggling.

"Want to sit for a minute?" C asks softly, patting the open spot next to them on the bed. “I’m still cold, too.”

B wriggles into the spot, propping themselves up on pillows and pulling blankets over them both. "Just a minute - you need your sleep."

C's already dozing. "S'okay. I'll sleep just fine. 'Sides, you're warm." C's nestled themselves into B's side, head resting on their chest, and B wraps an arm around C's shoulder and holds them close. They’re warm, too. Just a minute....

Many minutes later, A pokes their head in to check in on C - and finds two sick peas in a pod curled up together, C's head still on B's chest, B's arm curled protectively around C, stuffed animal squished between them, both tangled in blankets and Kleenexes.

In spite of their own exhaustion, A smiles. After everything that had happened, they had a feeling C wouldn't ever be alone again.

[sevendeadlymorons]

When your requests are open again could you possibly do a scenario on how the brothers would react to an mc who cuts themself... if not I understand, thank you either way, love your content!

I saw this come up and I just had to do this one straight away as it hits close to home for me. Thank you for the request, I hope you’re doing ok

Brothers Reaction to MC Who Harms Themself

WARNING: NSFW // Mentions of self harm, blood and sharp objects !

—————————————————

Lucifer

Was about to knock on your door to deliver your missed RAD work, when he heard a silent gasp and cry come from inside. He listens in as the sound continues. He opens the door to ask if you were alright, but when he saw you pressing a blade to your wrist, he drops everything he was holding onto the floor, and all that was on his mind in that moment of time was taking the blade away from you. He runs full charge at you, taking the blade away from you as you collapse in his arms, sobbing. Hearing the pain in your voice as you scream out to him, begging him to give you the blade back was the most traumatising thing he’s ever heard, and it will live on with him forever.

Shushes you and strokes your hair, trying to comprehend what just happened, completely forgetting about your mutilated wrist until he feels fresh blood trickle down onto his skin from your fresh wound. He panics and runs out the room, taking the blade with him, throwing it in the bin in disgust, before grabbing some disinfectant and bandages, rushing back over to you to wipe your wounds, telling you that you’re doing great when you suck air through your teeth in pain. He carefully wraps up your wrist, making sure to not hurt you or tie it too tight.

After he’d wrapped you up and disinfected your wounds, he’d held your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb and staring into your dull eyes, giving you a small smile as you fake one back, his heart dropping to his stomach at your state. He holds you in a tight hug and promised you he’d never let you be hurt again, because it kills him to see you in pain.

Mammon

He doesn’t knock, but for once, he wished he did as he stared you in the eye, watching blood trickle down your arm in horror as you held scissors in your other hand. He stood there for a few seconds, in shock, before reality kicked in and he was running to your side, snatching the scissors from your grip and catching you as your knees buckle. He’s never seen you look so lifeless. Your eyes were dull and there wasn’t even the faintest sign of a smile on your lips, the one he can’t wait to see every morning. That smile was gone. He held you so tight as you cried into his shirt, screaming his name into his chest and shaking. He feels physically sick seeing you like this. This isn’t the MC he knows...

He felt something wet drip onto his arm and when he looked down to find your arm slit, oozing blood, he panicked and pulled you to the bathroom, unthinkingly running your arm under warm water but regretting it when he saw your face wince in pain. He didn’t know what to do for you. He just wanted to make you feel better. He looked around in the cabinets and grabbed some loose bandages he luckily found, messily wrapping your arm up in the fabrics, not tying it too tight so that it doesn’t hurt you.

Sat you down on the bed, and held your hand, tears forming in his eyes as he stares into yours, and watches you try your best at flashing him a sweet, small smile. He hugs you tightly, rubbing your back and rocking you, telling himself he won’t ever let that happen again for as long as he lives.

Leviathan

Anime night, Levi had been looking forward to it all week, but when he flung the door open and caught eyes with a blade pressed to your thigh, he stopped. He dropped everything he had and just stared at it. Horror in his eyes as his mouth trembled. He was in shock, he had no idea what to do as he stared at that sharp object between your fingers. So he did all he knew to do; rushed straight towards you, snatching the blade and throwing it across the room, his arms wrapped around you as he cries silently into your stomach, feeling you sob onto his head as well. He felt you shake in his arms so he rubbed your back, and went to hug you, putting his head in the crook of your neck.

So much had happened in the space of only a few minutes that he didn’t even realise the blood that was staining his clothes from your wounds. He looked all around the room for something to stop the bleeding, searching in your bathroom for bandages, where he luckily found a strip laying in the cabinet. He rushes back in and start to desperately wrap up your leg, his cheeks flushing red as he realised he was touching your thigh, but that wasn’t important right now. Right now, all he cared about was you

After he’d finished, he apologised for barging in and messily wrapping up your cuts, but you didn’t say anything. You was staring at your leg and Levi felt his heart break as the thought that he didn’t notice something was wrong wracked his brain. He held your head to his chest and squeezed you tightly. He will never let you go through this alone again, he refuses to let you suffer alone.

Satan

He occasionally just walks into your room and sits down next to you, whipping out a book and just enjoying your company. Today was one of those days, but when he walked in and didn’t see you, he decided to just come back later. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a pained gasp coming from the bathroom though. He walked towards the room and the door was slightly ajar. He pressed his ear to the door and heard you sobbing. He rushed in but the sight he saw, left him in complete shock. He couldn’t move as he stared down at you, a single blade clutched in your fingers, blood surrounding you on the bathroom floor as it was spilling out of your cuts. He felt himself trembling as he could practically feel his heart spilt in two at the sight of your face, so visibly broken. He dashed towards you, cradling you in his arms and asking you to give him the blade until you finally placed it in his palm and he threw it in the bin in anger. How couldn’t he have noticed, he was so annoyed with himself as he could feel your pain while you quivered in his embrace.

He composed himself and grabbed your face to look at you, wiping away your stray tears with his thumb as he then proceeded to examine your mutilated forearms. He couldn’t help but tear up as he felt your arm shake, looking you in your eyes and desperately asking why, over and over again. He shook his head, realising it wasn’t the time, and stood up to grab the bandages and disinfectant from in the cabinet, coming back to your level to clean the wound and wrap up your arm, giving it several kisses after he’d done.

He apologises for his abrupt entrance but reminds you that you should have told him you felt this way and he would have helped. When your face remained blank he wrapped you into a hug so tight, he could feel your pounding heartbeat. His heart hurt, the image of you on the floor still stuck in his head. He never wants to see you in that state again. He will protect you with his life from now on.

Asmodeus

Ran into your room to ask you what colour he should paint his nails for the party he’s going to soon, but when he got there and you were sat with your knees to your chest on the floor, your entire thigh covered in drastically bleeding cuts right next to a large box cutter, he choked on his words, in disbelief as blood ran down your leg. He almost screamed and scurried to your side, throwing the blood stained knife to the side and stroking the back of your hand as he watched you break down. He pulls your head slowly into his shoulder and let you cry, his hand running up and down your back as he felt himself shaking when he stared at your soon to be scarred thigh. He pulls you close to him as he felt tears threatening to escape too, his eyes quickly tearing up at the thought of you being so miserable and he never noticed before. He thought he knew you so well.

Quickly got to his feet and brought back disinfectant and a bandage from your cabinet, taking a quick glance at your dull face, your eyes puffy from crying. He knelt down and straightened out your leg, wiping your wounds with disinfectant, making sure to be gentle. He hated to hear you in so much pain as you gasped and winced from the disinfectant entering your open cuts. He shushed you and apologises quickly, then went to litter your entire leg in kisses, giving a reason why he loves you for each cut you made that day.

He didn’t care how messy he got when he wrapped up your thigh, his hands now stained in your dry blood. All he cared about was you and your well being. If he knew, he would have stopped you and prevented all this pain from happening, but he didn’t know, and that obviously fake smile you’ve been forcing since he met you was becoming clearly obvious to him now as he eyed your exhausted eyes and pale skin, a constant frown plastered on your lips. He promises to you, he will keep you safe. Nothing will hurt you when he’s around, not even yourself. He doesn’t want to see any more scars on your pretty skin.

Beelzebub

Went downstairs for a midnight snack, like he usually does, but when he went past the knives, he noticed one of them were missing. Didn’t take any notice and went back upstairs to eat in his room. When he went past your door though, he heard a stifled sob and heavily breathing. He walked in to ask you what’s wrong and give you a hug but when he saw you on the floor with your head against the bed, your arms visible with several deep cuts, seeping blood, he froze and couldn’t take his eyes off your arms. He dragged his eyes away to see the missing knife next to you drenched in your blood. His breathing hitched and he shook, all he could do in that moment was mouth your name. But suddenly, his legs moved on their own and before he knew it, he was at your side, kicking the mnife away with his foot and hugging you to his chest, your tears staining his shirt as he pulled you closer into him.

His eyes never once left your arms, watching the blood trickle out and he felt so so scared of losing you. He grabbed your wrist and got up and rushed you to your bathroom, grabbing some bandages and running your arms under the tap, feeling bad when you wince in pain. He dried your arms off as gently as he could and wrapped the bandage around your arms slowly, keeping his eyes drawn to your face to see if he was hurting you. He held your wrapped arm in his hands for a while, peering down at it, still visible shook up.

He wrapped you in a blanket and rocked you in his arms for the rest of the night, listening to you cry silently and letting you use his shoulder to cry onto. He reminded you that you’ll be alright and he thought to him how he will never let this happen again, he will make sure you feel happy in his company and embrace. He’s never leaving you alone.

Belphegor

Noticed you were no longer by his side in bed anymore and sleepily went around the room to look for you, his eyes half open and drooping. He saw the bathroom light was on though the crack in the door, so he pushed open the door and half unconsciously reached around for your arm to pull you back in to bed. When he grabbed your arm, he heard you cry out in pain and his eyes shot open, scared he’d hurt you again. His hands felt sticky and when he looked down at them, they were covered in blood. His heart beat was racing as he thought he’d hurt you, but when he panicked and looked down to apologise, he saw you holding a pocket knife in your other hand and the blood that was stained onto his hands was from your arm, littered in long deep bloody cuts. His breathing became unsteady as he thought back to the last time he saw you bleeding, it was because of him. He dropped to his knees and crawled over to you, blood from the floor covering his clothes and palms, but he didn’t care as he reached out to touch your face, distress in both your eyes. He looked at the knife in disgust and hatred, kicking it across the room and hearing it hit the wall. He felt your arm and examined it, desperate to fix this.

He scrambled up to his feet to wet a damp rag and place it over your arm, gently wiping away the blood, stopping and asking you if it hurts when you made a pained face. He grabbed the bandages and quickly wrapped you up, making sure you aren’t in pain again. Then he grabbed at you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing you urgently. Listening to your loud muffled sobs as you cried into his skin. His heart hurt remembering the sight and he no longer felt tired anymore. He felt sick and worried.

He sat there for a good couple hours, on the bathroom floor, holding you in his embrace and shushing you, your tears dried onto his clothes and leaving a musky smell. How didn’t he notice. He spends every night with you. Have you been doing this right next door every night when he was asleep? He hates the thought and swears to protect you every second he can. He doesn’t care how much sleep he loses, as long as you’re ok, that’s all that matters to him.

DM’s are always open if anyone ever needs someone to talk or vent to. I know the feeling of thinking you have to harm yourself to feel better, but it’s not the only solution. Whoever you are, I love you and stay safe x

[disgruntledspacedad]

Jayyy!! Sweet, slutty in the AM.

Without giving BL spoilers, or maybe you won't? Idk 👀👀 not *cough* fishing or anything *cough*

Can I please have 💖 for Javier??? I'm curious...

Angel out-

Javiears pregnancy headcanons? You got it, babe!

Quick and obvious disclaimer to treat all of these as if they are a Better Love AU, at least until I tell you otherwise. 😘

Any baby that these two have would be a total surprise. Ears never wanted kids, and Javi has never thought long enough about it to decide how he feels about a family. He’s always assumed that was never in the cards for him.

Once the initial shock wears off - and that’s gonna take quite a while for both of them - Javi and Ears both jump feet first into the parenting thing. They each harbor some intense opinions about what a kid should and shouldn’t have to put up with, and there are lots of deep conversations that Last into the early morning hours. They nail down the important stuff pretty early, decide that they’ll figure out the rest with time, and discover a whole lot more about one another in the process.

Ears’ body hates being pregnant. She doesn’t realize it, but she’s got her Ashkenazi ancestry to thank for this. Ears is sick as dog snot clear through her first trimester and well into her second, exhausted and achy and throwing the fuck up. She gets awful migraines, too. There are days when Javi is convinced that carrying this baby is going to kill her, and he worries a lot.

Ears handles all of this as stoically as she can. She’s miserable, but she’s not about to complain and make Javi feel even worse.

Speaking of Javi, that protective streak he’s got goes into overdrive the instant Ears tells him about the baby. Ears has got to constantly remind him that she’s pregnant, not dying, and Javi good god, please just let me do things, okay??

That being said, it takes Javi a little while to connect the idea of Ears being pregnant to Ears carrying his baby. It’s all very abstract to him, to the point that on Ears’ worst days, Javi almost feels a little resentful.

That all changes at Ears’ sixteen week appointment. She’s just starting to feel like a human again, and this time, Javi is allowed to go back with her.

Oh my god, you guys, when Javier Peña sees that blurry, black and white, tiny little baby on the ultrasound screen... yall, his entire world shifts.

Ears notices instantly. It’s kind of hard not to, given how tightly Javi is suddenly gripping her hand. He glances over at him to find his eyes glued to the screen, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. It takes her aback a little. “You okay?” she asks quietly, and Javi nods, drags his eyes away from the ultrasound screen and gives her a soft, wet smile, and something slots into place for Ears, too.

Javi quits smoking cold turkey that day. Seeing his tiny little daughter for the first time put a lot of things into perspective, and Javi decides then and there that he wants to be there for her as long as possible.

The first three weeks are miserable. Javi does his best to get out of the house when he’s feeling tetchy (which is always), and Ears does her best to be understanding, but they get into more than a few little spats.

The makeup sex is 🔥🔥🔥, though.

Ears is not a big girl. When she starts to show, she shows fast, and Javi swears he can see her body change every day. Ears is pretty indifferent. She’s not self conscious - Ears finds pregnancy to be inconvenient, more than anything.

Javier Peña has never seen anything as beautiful as Hannah Aarons carrying his child.

Javi fucking loves it. There’s something primal about running his hand over the gentle swell of Ears’ belly and knowing that it’s his daughter that’s growing there. He’s not one to talk to the bump, but Javi can hardly stop himself from touching it. All the fucking time. Ears will sometimes playfully shoo him away. “Hands to yourself, you animal. I’m trying to nap!”

Seriously, their sex life doesn’t suffer at all. It doesn’t help that Ears refuses to buy maternity clothes. She’d much rather lounge around in Javi’s t-shirts and his old sweats, something that makes Javi’s cave man brain damn near implode every single time he sees it.

Ugh, and he’s sweet to her. Observant and affectionate and accommodating of absolutely everything. Cravings? Tell me what you want, babe, I’ll get three. Foot massage? Come here, mi reina, let me make it better. Yawning through dinner? Go get in bed, Ears, I’ve got dishes tonight.

Javi starts noticing Ears’ puffy feet somewhere around the 28th week or so. Ears swears they don’t hurt, exactly, so they both write it off as one of those weird pregnancy things.

It’s not. Ears has severe pre-eclampsia. Javi only finds this out after Ears gets a migraine so bad that she can’t see straight. Javi carries her to the car and forces her to go to the hospital. They’re there for all of five minutes when the doctor on call deems Ears’ blood pressure to be high enough to constitute a medical emergency, and Javi’s world is turned upside down again when he hears the word “c-section.”

Ears is only 33 weeks pregnant.

Less than an hour later, Javi is holding his baby girl. She’s tiny, the tiniest little human that Javi has ever seen, but she’s got a hell of a set of lungs on her, and Javi has never been so relieved, so stunned, so riveted, or so enraptured by anything in his entire life.

Oh, shit, he’s crying again.

She’s absolutely perfect. Off her oxygen within two days, taking feedings like a champ, and obliterating every goal her pediatrician sets for her.

Javi is so fucking proud when his girl is discharged a full week earlier than the doctors anticipated. She’s still a little small, but growing like a weed, and Javi just knows that between her and her mom, he’s gonna have his hands full.

Ears is fine, just a little sore. There are no long term complications from pre-eclampsia, so as soon as she’s up and sort of moving, Ears in full mom mode.

Ears loves being a mom, but she and Javi are in full agreement on this - one and done.

[heli0s-writes]

It Is Knowing*

HI THANKS FOR EVERYTHING. It’s been a wonderful ride. Here’s the last part of Bag of Tricks. It’s tender and smutty and stupid. All mistakes are my own.

Please stop reading if you are not over 18!

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

He’s terrified.

Suddenly he’s looking at you one way, and then in a flash, the same dumb grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of an ill joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like star fire and during a storm inside a standard-issued cabin hideout, Bucky thinks he must be losing his mind.

And maybe he’s been losing it for a few weeks now, but he’s done a great job dodging the reality of your confession so far. Doesn’t matter what you mumbled—cracked out on exhaustion and sleep-talking—because in the end, you’re his friend and you love him the same way you love everyone else: annoyingly. Nothing’s changed about that.

He hazards another glimpse.

“Help?” You ask from the table, angrily scratching out blocks of an attempted crossword puzzle.

Do it in pencil, he tried to warn earlier, but you only called him chickenshit because you’re—yep—annoying.  

“Foudre,” Bucky says carefully and you perk up at the sound of his voice. “It’s a… six-letter French word for thunder.” He clears his throat, gesturing toward the window splattered with rain.

“Oh-ho-ho,” you snort, “Smart boy, aren’t ya? FOO-DRUH.” An incredible bastardization of the term, and you sing around a chewed-up pen cap between your teeth. “My name’s Smart-Boy-Bucky and I know French, Russian, and Updog.”

“What the hell is Updog?”

Your face steels.

“Nothing much, how ‘bout you?”

And instead of going over there to kick your ass, all he can do is stare wordlessly as you break into a laugh—his entire body electric like a live wire.

-

He keeps telling himself there are only a few days before someone drops in to collect. He just needs a little bit of distance, some time alone to clear his head and get over this—thing.

But his brain feels like it’s melting while he waits, his stomach is probably developing an ulcer, and his heart is so fast and fierce that he can almost see the pulse in his sternum throbbing errantly.

Too many things are wrong. You’re his friend— and Bucky wants to throttle himself a little bit for ever letting you be his friend. You’re an unfiltered, oblivious dumbass and he doesn’t like that at all. You cry over animals and when he gets hurt because you’re an insufferable drama queen, too. He hates that. He does.

The sound of something enormous slamming on the ground makes him dash into the shared bedroom and—oh god, Bucky thinks he’s going to throw up.

First, the mattresses are on the floor.

Second, you’re. wearing. that. stupid. shirt.

The blue one. The one he used to love, hated for a bit, came back around to wearing, and now—yep, he officially hates it again.

“I think you’re too tall for the bunk.” You’re pushing the beds together, unaware of his clenched fists. “So if we sleep diagonally your feet won’t hang off—and can you believe it—” you point to the hem of cerulean brushing against your skin, “I packed three raincoats and no pajamas.”

At the sight of your creeping smile, Bucky loses it.

“Why are you going through my stuff?!” He shouts, gripping the doorframe with enough force to take the molding clear off. “Why are you touching my shit!?” And he probably sounds insane, flying off the handle like this, but he’s got a million grievances against you and this is just the tip of the iceberg.

“Mind your own fucking business!” He’s still unloading, unreasonably frantic at the sight of that terrible color hanging from your shoulders.

Bewildered, you plop down clumsily on your knees, gawking like a deer in the headlights.

Your bare legs, your fingertips on your thighs, the thin sleeves oversized and loose on your forearms, that smear of toothpaste on the collar, the hollow of your throat taut from holding your breath—it makes him want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you dizzy.

It makes him want to touch you. It makes him want you.

He’s sick. He’s dying. He’s so, so fucked.

“What…” Bucky quietly trails off, gasping helplessly as realization sinks in, “…what the hell is wrong with you...”

“Me?!” You shriek back, “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m over here worried about your crusty feet hanging off at night and you just swing in and take a dump on me?”

Bucky groans, miserable and guilty. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “Shit. I’m—I don’t know.”

“Eat my ass, dude!” you sneer, already tucked under the blankets. “I’m going to sleep. Turn off the fucking light you’re going to stand there looking like a dumbass.”

A feeble sigh as Bucky pushes his hands into his face, gripping his hair, pulling his own head back until he’s glaring at the ceiling, listening to the patter on the roof.

“You’re the dumbass,” he whispers.

You’re the dumbass with the emotional regulation problem. The idiot with the temper. The head full of sawdust. But, if it only took three careless words from your blundering mouth to make Bucky fall entirely apart, you must be right after all. He is the dumbass.

He feels split open like the sky—torn up completely, unable to make out anything in his own turbulence.

Fuck.

The sheets shift until he hears them slide off. Then, a pattern of bare feet across hardwood. He must look disastrous in the doorway, bent out of shape in uncharacteristic disarray.

“What is going on with you?” You find his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrists, tugging until they peel off his wretched face. “Why are you so upset? I wear your clothes all the time; I’m always in your stuff.”

He chuckles defeatedly because you really are always in his space. Throwing yourself into in his room. Eating chips in his bed. Squirreling away in his brain. Everywhere. Always.

Bucky presses his lips into a thin line, grimacing as he looks at you. Wordless and vulnerable, he can feel his brow sinking lower, throat narrowing around a swallow as he attempts to fix himself. A stutter falls out, then another, crackling syllables like surfacing thunder but never quite forming a sentence.

The earth groans, shaking the cabin and his precarious soul.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like—”

And then, under a streak of lightning, recognition splits across your face.

“Don’t,” he pleads to the silence, “Don’t say it.”

The seconds stretch into horrible eons of slow passing time. You tilt your head this way and that, eyes going from his face to his hands, limp at his side with your own fingers still grasping on.

“Jesus, Bucky,” you say gently, “You’re—my best friend.”

Bucky shuts his eyes. “I know. I’m not trying—"

“Bucky,” you interrupt, faster now. “Bucky,” suddenly elated and laughing. “Bucky—shut up.”

And then the entire room bursts into flames. Your lips are searing hot against his— plump and eager, leaving scorching trails everywhere they touch, and Bucky burns up like a solar flare trying to catch his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh, kissing him again. His cheeks, his jaw, his chin. “A real idiot.”

He’s terrified and dizzy, fumbling with a million possible outcomes and failing painfully each time. Relationships never quite work out for him; he’s dated a few girls and liked them a lot, too, but they’ve never turned out how he wanted them to. And this one—this one, he really can’t fuck up.

He’s got a bad track record, and with you, never knowing is much better than losing.

“Hey, you’re going crazy in there. I can hear it.” A sweet smile as your lips hover over his. The sweetest your face as ever looked. “Stop thinking, Bucky. Kiss me.”

Your lashes are so long and pretty. The dip of your cupid’s bow, a shape he adores. Even the tiny scar on your neck and the way your hair moves— wispy strands framing your face. Sounds of happiness tumbling out, hand firmly inside of his.

“It’s just me.” Joyful. Comfortable. “You know me.”

Your eyes glimmer—a familiar color calling him home.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, “Yeah, I do.”

Steve was the more competent linguist in their old days. Rolling French r’s, dropping ending consonants, silky smooth in pronunciation. Bucky’s tongue had always been more supplant to the Eastern European languages but, he knows enough of French—remembers enough from the war to recognize this:

Coup de foudre.

It’s the thing romantics exalt, the thing that half-strikes him now. The thunderbolt.

Love at first sight, even though it’s not quite first sight at all.

It’s not infatuated or starry-eyed. Not blind. Not feeling.

It is knowing.

And yeah, Bucky watches the way you pull him to the floor, euphoric and aglow, Jesus H. Christ, he knows.

This is it for him: your chaos, your entropy, your impulse. Your lack of personal space and foresight and good fucking sense. But—your kindness, too. Your care. Your heart.

Calm and patient as you settle down into his lap, the warm weight of you seems to be the only thing keeping him on earth.

“Can I touch you?” You ask shyly.

His voice is barely audible, hands unsure of where to rest, heart swollen in his throat.

Bucky flushes, and in the split second of your tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, he tells himself do it, you coward, just fucking do it—and god help him, he does.

He presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collar and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs and instinctively pulling everything off.

You’re both surprised and excited, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too.

His shirt gets flung behind your back. Both pants disappear somewhere else. One hand goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

Bucky stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

He feels perfect in your hands. A silly grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and glide yourself over his length, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Bucky begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s unquestionably powerless.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Buck.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Bucky holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second--"

Using the position you’re already in, he lifts you up and brings you back down, a bit at a time until you’re landing on his hand with a gasp. He uses his fist as a stopper, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Thor?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a hook up. One time—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Bucky wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking on top, tipping him backward into the cushions, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Bucky, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Bucky could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

-

It’s rougher in the morning. In the shower, soaking together. Faster.

On the couch, next. With him asking you to put your hand here, move your leg there.

He wants to learn everything you like, too.

You eagerly change positions, giggling when your knee slips and you pitch forward onto his chest. The two of you take a moment to compose yourselves, pinching each other, kissing in-between. He commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you. The way everything moves easy and wonderful, sometimes lazy, sometimes harried, but always fun.

Yelping when you bite too hard. Biting you back even harder. Positions neither of you have surprisingly tried before, but why not start?

Cursing. So much cursing. A lot of it good—fuck me, yes, more, don’t stop—but truthfully, most of it stays about the same.

Barnes, you got a juicy ass.

Will you shut up!

And he never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or if maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Bucky’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the front door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Sam swings it open and Bucky is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” Sam hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Sam!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a sweater, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Bucky is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispers again, “Oh… my god.” He sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” he hisses, before screaming, “Oh hell no! I’m here picking y’all asses up. Landed the damn jet like two miles away, walked my happy ass through the rain— you butt-ass-naked in here—” He stands ram-rod straight, hands on his hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on y’all.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Sam!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m wet! And well— you wet too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

Sam snickers, high-fiving himself before crossing his arms, “Really though, believe me when I say this for everybody who’s ever met you two: finally. Now get y’all freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Barnes’ dick.”

You pat him on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Sam dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Bucky locks the door to a now silent cabin, damp with sweat and the smell of earth. It’s torrential still, two days bucketing and the ground is so wet mud goes up to his ankles. Luckily, and he wants to laugh at that, you packed two extra raincoats.

Thunderclaps shake the very ground he stands on. Bucky turns to look at you, marveling when electricity bounces off your eyes, lighting up your face. He reaches over.

A squeeze to your hand that says I’m yours.

One more, tighter. I love you.

You slot your fingers between his. I know.

You smile at the next streak in the sky. Me too.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

silver, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Who said humans were animals of wisdom? For Yoongi, they’re animals of regret. Does that justify him cheating on his girlfriend with her/you? Absolutely not.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, car sex, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; angst; cheating; don’t do this to your significant other, please; Yoongi’s POV

--

Bad decisions are born from frustration and resentment.

None of it was supposed to happen. His life was fine, perfect in some people’s eyes. He was dating the girl his parents had introduced him to because it made them happy. She was polite, had a good background, and a nice smile. There wasn’t anything wrong with her.

Except he felt miserable.

Min Yoongi felt suffocated, uninterested, and annoyed at their lack of chemistry. His girl was pretty, the conventional kind of prettiness that couldn’t be denied. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he just didn’t understand beauty or something. Maybe he was being selfish for wanting more. At the start, it was alright. It was a fun little game, figuring someone out. But instead of a maze, he was on a seesaw, trying to determine if this up and down was as simple was it seemed. It sucked. And now Yoongi wanted to get off, but it seemed too difficult. Too difficult to disappoint his parents, her parents, and her aspirations of him being a good little husband.

He wanted to throw up thinking about it.

And then, she was there.

Dark lipstick and a playful smile. Black eyeshadow, eyes like a panther. Silver rings that glimmered in the flashing club lights.  Silver chain necklaces tangled in a mess around her neck, framing that slightly rounder face instead of the conformist v-line everyone was starving themselves for. Black oversized hoodie that hung on her smaller frame, paired with that short, short black dress paired with chunky black ankle boots. Thighs that he wanted to sink his teeth into and mold with his hands.

That night, Yoongi had sat there with his beer, fixated on this new presence and wishing for the first time that he was single as fuck. He didn’t know if it was because he was so unhappy in his current relationship or if it was because he liked the way she looked. It didn’t matter. He burned with jealousy as she chatted with the bartender, silver rings flashing as she moved her hands animatedly to her story. At home, Yoongi had a good little girl waiting for him with her vanilla tastes and it made him sick to his stomach.

The worst part was, other than being boring as fuck, his girl was fine.

He watched as she leaned on her hand, grinning as the bartender poured her another shot. The grin of someone who did not give a fuck what anyone thought of her actions. Yoongi wanted to shove his dick into that face.

His phone buzzed and he wanted to throw it across the club. Instead, he pulled it from his pocket with a neutral expression and checked his messages. His girlfriend asking if he was alright or if he needed to be picked up. He responded that he was fine and that he would call a taxi home to be safe. Told her he loved her and realized he didn’t even mean it.

He must be the awful one.

When he looked up, she was gone. Good. Maybe she had finally left to give him and his mind some peace.

Jeon Jungkook was looking around, blinking confusedly. The youngest in their group, Yoongi always thought he looked the cutest when he was bewildered. Yoongi raised his eyebrow.

“Something wrong, bro?”

Jungkook frowned. “Where’s Taehyung?”

Ah, yes. Kim Taehyung. The one Yoongi thought was the most trouble even though he was a year older than Jungkook. Maybe it was because they had different viewpoints and they often clashed in opinion, Yoongi finding him too childish and simple in mentality in comparison to his. But eventually they learned to get along – a different viewpoint is not necessarily a wrong one. Yoongi learned that being childish once in while might actually lighten his outlook on life.

Alright, to be honest he realized he was a bit of a pessimistic jackass.

In any case, it was with that question that shit started to go downhill. Because the next thing Yoongi knew, Taehyung’s boyish, boxy smile came back with a grin and dark lipstick smeared down his chin. Next time he was with his friends, she showed up again, elbow resting on Taehyung’s shoulder, looking cool and comfortable in her black leather jacket and tiny as fuck black T-shirt dress.

Yoongi hated it.

She wore too many silver accessories that flashed in the light and made her stand out. Her makeup was too dark and haunted him in his dreams. She would sit next to Taehyung like his pet panther, complimenting his dark hair and sharp jawline with her wildness. It was torture, because Yoongi knew that he had a pretty little thing with a cute little voice waiting for him at home. It wasn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was this dangerous-looking woman who climbed into Taehyung’s lap and straddled him right in front of them, unashamed and unapologetic. Her fingers tangled in Taehyung’s hair and Taehyung’s large hand planted firmly on her ass as they had a casual conversation with Park Jimin like nothing weird was happening. Jimin had an open mind about it all – for him, as long as his best friend was happy, he didn’t see the problem. Also, she liked to press her tits against Taehyung’s chest and Jimin was a pervert.

Okay, yes, Yoongi knew he was jealous as fuck.

When Taehyung and her parted ways after a few months, he thought he was free. He thought he could forget about it all. He and his girlfriend were happy. They didn’t have sex anymore, but that happened sometimes. It was normal to settle down a bit after the honeymoon phase – if their few times of starfish sex could be considered a honeymoon phase.

He knew he was being overly mean, but he honestly didn’t give a shit at this point.

It wasn’t until he was having dinner with one of his close friends, Jung Hoseok, that he thought about her again. Hoseok was smiling, handing him some grilled meat, and chatting away. He liked talking to Hoseok. Hoseok made everything more light-hearted and fun. Hoseok was going on about something, but when Yoongi looked up, he saw her. All the way at the front of the restaurant, standing there with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. She was handing an elderly woman in a dirty apron a thick stack of papers and smiling. Tiny white crop top, lips painted dark red and eyes smoked with black. But the elderly owner was smiling, nodding as she pointed to the papers and spoke about them. The silver rings and silver chains flashed in the fluorescent lights.

Hoseok noticed his change in demeanor and turned around.

“Oh, that’s that woman Taehyung was seeing not too long ago,” Hoseok noted, tilting his head. “Taehyungie said she’s some kind of accountant for small businesses, but I didn’t know she did it for this place! Shall we go say hi?”

“No.”

Hoseok turned around, staring at him. “Huh?”

Yoongi looked down, staring at his bowl of rice. “She seems busy. Let her be.”

“Oh... Okay.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He wanted to smash it. Instead, he pulled it out of his pants and stared at it. His girlfriend, asking him to come home and not stay out too late. He frowned at it.

Hoseok prodded him and smiled. “Ah, sorry, have I kept you out too late? You better go home – I’ll pay today.”

Yoongi shook his head, pulling out his wallet. “No, no, I’ll pay. Least I could do,” he said. He pulled out some bills and stood up. “Stay and finish eating. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok called as Yoongi began to walk away. Yoongi turned to look back at him, seeing his friend’s heart-shaped smile and calming brown eyes.

“You should do what makes you happy, okay? Don’t get too caught up in who you think you should be.”

“Ah… right.”

He left the restaurant, out into the night. The cheer of the bustling street, filled with happy couples and laughing friends. The happy noise taunted him. Yoongi zipped his parka, shoving his phone deep in his pocket. He could smell the delicious scent of meat and rice from the restaurant behind him, mixing with the faint scent of cigarettes and car exhaust.

He looked up and she was there. Standing a little to the side, speaking with an older guy who was eyeing her tits. She shook her head, moving deftly away from his outstretched hand. Her fingers curled into a fist, silver rings flashing.

“Hey.”

Her head whipped around, eyes widening as she recognized him.

“I thought we were leaving? Come on.”

Yoongi grabbed her hand and pulled her along, burying them in the crowd. Her silver rings cut into his hand, but he held it tight, as if he was afraid that she would run away. After a few meters, she pulled her hand from his grasp.

“Oi, you didn’t have to do that,” she said sternly, frowning.

Yoongi shrugged. “I was just trying to save you the assault charges.”

She sighed and raised her hands, as if she was admitting her guilt. “Eh… alright then. Thanks, I guess.”

It was awkward. They never really talked when she was dating Taehyung, mostly because he knew he couldn’t control his mind when he was around her. She was polite to him, but there was definite distance between them.

“Hey, uh… can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, running the tip of her tongue over her painted lips. Fuck.

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Me?” She pointed to herself and laughed, shaking her head. “Nah, I don’t want to be in a relationship. Just casual sex for me.” She pointed to him. “But aren’t you with someone? I recall Taehyungie telling me you had a cute little girlfriend.”

“We broke up.”

He said it without thinking. His face was neutral. She pursed her lips, watching him carefully.

“Hmm, I see,” she finally said.

He told himself to do it. He wanted it. He wanted it right now.

“Want to come with me for a bit?”

-

That’s how they ended up in the back of Yoongi’s car, her ring-covered hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers. She smelled like dark cherries, sugary and heavy. He felt her hot breath on his lips, her tongue darting out and licking him like a snake.

“What do you want? Your dick sucked? My pussy on your face? Me bouncing on your dick or on all fours?” she whispered, biting his lower lip and tugging on it lightly.

Fuck. All of it and there wasn’t enough time or space. “Don’t tempt me or I’ll rip your clothes off,” he growled.

She chuckled slyly, crashing her lips to his. Her lips were slippery, lipstick smearing against his lips as he kissed her, sucking on her tongue. She moaned into his mouth, so hot and sweet that his cock strained in his pants. She pulled back, lipstick down to her chin. One look in the rearview mirror and he knew he looked the same.

“Damn, Yoongi, you look sexy as fuck,” she breathed, grinning at him.

He felt his cheeks grow hot at the compliment. He hoped the dim streetlights of the parking lot didn’t give him away. She unzipped his parka, pulling his black shirt up his chest. He raised an eyebrow. She smirked, running her nails over his skin, giving him goosebumps. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey, if you’re going to look, let me look too.”

She raised her hands and grinned. “Sure.”

She shrugged off her leather jacket, letting it fall. Pulled down the straps of her tiny white crop top, letting her breasts spill out from the top. His eyes widened seeing her hard nipples right in front of his face. Tinted windows or not, it was still a semi-public area.

It made him even harder, if that was possible.

He reached up and rubbed his thumb against one, breath hitching at the hardness. She raised an eyebrow.

“Please don’t tell me you’re a vanilla boy,” she taunted, rolling her eyes.

His eyes narrowed and he pinched them roughly, making her squeal.

“What was that?” He let his voice drop several octaves, pinching them again.

She winced, but didn’t back down. “Best you can do?”

He gripped her nipples tightly and pulled up, earning him a pained moan. “Who do you think you’re testing?” he drawled, feeling her grind against his lap, too much fabric between them.

“That’s better,” she growled back, cocking her chin defiantly.

He grabbed her breasts and dug his nails into them, rubbing his palms against her nipples. They were deliciously soft, the skin smooth against his callouses. He could feel the cool metal of her silver necklines against his fingertips.

“Take off your jeans.”

She struggled to get out of them, pulling her jeans and panties off together. His heart skipped a beat as he witnessed the string of her juices snap against her thigh, glistening in the low light. The scent of her sex filled the small car, intoxicating him.

“Already wet for me, huh?”

She smirked. “What can I say? I have a weakness for assertiveness.”

He let go of her tits, tracing his fingers on her thighs. The thighs he dreamt about, the thighs he jacked off to when he was alone in the shower, the thighs he watched enviously clamp around Taehyung’s waist right in front of his face. They practically fucked when they were in public and it made him jealous and angry seeing their obvious lust for one another.

He sunk his fingers into those juicy thighs, sucking in a breath in satisfaction. Fuck, they were so fucking soft, so full and sexy in his hands.

“Spread those lips for me,” he breathed, eyes fixated on her pussy.

She leaned back a little, tongue in cheek. His eyes widened as he realized she had a tattoo on the right side of her inner thigh. A laughing cartoonish skull. God, what lucky fuck had done that? She reached down with her ringed fingers and forced her pussy open with two of them, wet, shiny, and quivering, the pink bud swollen with need. His arousal so strong that he would remember it for nights on end.

He reached out and pulled her to him by the waist, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, nipples brushing against his skin. He squeezed the flesh next to her pussy, feeling her juices drip down the back of his hand. She sucked in a breath in anticipation. He turned his hand, brushing a fingertip against her wetness.

“Such a fucking tease,” she hissed, grabbing the back of his head and tangling her fingers in his hair.

He grinned devilishly. “So needy. Tell me what you want.”

Her lips brushed against his, eyes boring into his, burning with desire.

“Finger me with those delicious hands of yours.”

She kissed him, roughly, and he plunged his fingers into her wetness, almost moaning into her mouth as he felt her walls clench around him. He ground his knuckle against her clit as he worked her, turning her into a ruined mess above him. He was sure her juices were dripping onto his pants, covering him with her scent.

“Fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”

He didn’t care if she came or not, just kept pumping his fingers in and out of her, hard and fast. Her necklaces clattered against each other, clinking in rhythm of his thrusts. Each moan was his adrenaline, fingering her so hard she was bouncing in his lap, probably making his car rock with the motion.

He didn’t even care if someone knew. In fact, he wanted someone to know.

Her rings dug into his skin as she gripped onto his shirt, shuddering as she came all over his hand, so slick and wet that he slipped out by accident. He readjusted, but she grabbed his hand, pulling it up.

“You trying to put us in jail?” she snickered, backing up a little.

“If I can still fuck you in jail, does it matter?” he countered, licking his fingers. Oh, God. Sweet with a hint of sour, so fucking delicious that he wanted to drink it out of her right now.

She pushed him up, unbuttoning his pants as she did so. She yanked them down, his bare ass sticking to the leather of his seats. That kind of thing would really annoy him if it wasn’t for her bending down. The metal of her rings felt cool against his cock. She opened her mouth, tongue out and ass up. The image burned into his mind.

Fuck his girlfriend, he should have taken her home so they could have fucked on his bed.

She took him in her hot mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. Down, down. Lips pressed against the base of his cock. He could feel the lipstick leaving an imprint on his skin. Messy and erotic, exactly what he wanted. He pressed his head against the window, groaning as she began to bob her head up and down, awkwardly positioned in the car. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and he moaned, feeling the muscles grip the head tightly before backing up again. The head scraped against the roof of her mouth, making his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. Was getting head ever this good? Were lips really this soft, mouths really this tight? Her hands were gripping his hips, rings pinching his skin a little, but he didn’t care. The hint of pain heightened his senses, mixing with the pleasure.

He felt her pause and he looked down, seeing her mouth open just a little. He felt her tongue press against the base of his balls, teasing them and coating them in saliva.

“F-fuck me…” he hissed, breath hitching as she started up again, faster, tighter. He gripped the seat, not wanting to grab her head and ruin her pace. Her tongue pressed against the bottom of the head and he groaned, feeling the familiar tension at the base of his stomach.

“S-shit, I’m going to–”

He didn’t get to grit out any more words, because they turned into a dragged-out moan as he shot into her throat. She swallowed, holding to him tightly. He could hear each gulp loud and clear, punctuating his damnation. She licked him slowly, softly. He gasped at the sensitivity, squeezing his eyes shut as she milked out every last drop.

His dick slid out of her mouth with a wet plop, limply falling between his legs. Dark lipstick down to her chin, smokey eyes devilishly looking up at him. At that moment, Yoongi knew.

She was who he wanted.

-

Yoongi sat in the driver’s seat, wiping his mouth with a spare tissue. He was a sticky mess underneath his clothes. He didn’t really want to think about what he had just done. He could still smell her, her taste still coated on his tongue.

He sighed. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, turning it back on. He waited patiently, sitting in the darkness. He had offered to drop her off wherever she liked, but she just laughed and said she would be fine.

“I’m worried about the poor fool who tries to pick you up,” he had said with a smirk.

She was halfway out of his car, turning back and smiling.

“No promises.”

He touched the scrap of paper on the dashboard. He should throw it away. He felt the vibration of his phone, loading up all the messages and missed calls. He didn’t have to look. He knew who it was. After a long moment, Yoongi unlocked his phone and swiped all the notifications away.

And then he saved a new contact.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[nowoyas]

Bunny Eyes

A/N: I JUST WANTED TO WRITE BUNNYZUKU GETTING DISAPPOINTED AND BEING CUTE HOW DID THIS HAPPEN BUT Y’ALL WANTED THE SICKFIC SO HERE’S THE SICKFIC

Summary: Saying 'no' to your boyfriend is hard enough, does he have to make you feel so guilty when you’re already sick? (bunny!Izuku x sick!reader, fluff)

Warnings: uh none, the reader has the flu and has flu symptoms but I didn’t go into like, gross descriptions

Word count: 2600+ (HOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT AND SWEET)

~

Your boyfriend might be just a little bit evil.

Not in the traditional sense, no, Izuku's too pure and kind and good for this world. Reckless, selfless, and all around perfect.

But he's evil and he knows if he just looks at you just right, you won't be able to say no.

Currently, you're bed-bound from a nasty flu that's been making you feel absolutely miserable. When you're not asleep, the farthest you've been able to go is being miserable on your balcony in the fresh air (usually at night, since this damn flu has absolutely slam dunked your sleep schedule) or sneaking on to your computer to game, exhaustion and dizziness and all manner of symptoms making even sitting up for too long a chore. 

You have to thank whatever powers are out there for Izuku's loving hand in your recovery. You don't trust yourself to make it all the way downstairs to the kitchen from your fourth-floor dorm room, and without even asking, he's stopped by every morning and afternoon since you got sick to bring you food, including a few simple pre-packed things to choke down for lunch and extra bottles of water. Not that you've been particularly hungry, but on the rare occasion you feel well enough to choke something down, thanks to him, you've actually been able to.

He's constantly been worried over you, since even before you started dating in your first year, but the flu picking you up and effortlessly slamming you through the floor certainly hasn't helped that. Still, he's so sweet, and by this point (day 5 since you got sick, but who’s counting?) he's basically the only sunshine you're getting. You're sure if your bunny-eared boyfriend didn't have class to go to (and Aizawa was adamant that he still attend class), he'd be at your side every moment, fussing over you and making sure you eat, stay hydrated, and take your medicine. 

Unluckily for you (or perhaps luckily—your medicine tastes utterly vile and isn't helping your stomach settle any more), he's had class every day since you got sick, and he can't afford to fall behind even if he's apparently spending most of his time in class worrying over how you're doing alone in your dorm.

Whether him being at class every day is lucky or unlucky, the opposite is true for today. (Or is it tomorrow? What time is it again?) It's the weekend, meaning he's got no other obligations to deal with, so you can and do expect him to want to spend every moment doting and fussing and using those damn eyes to get you to relent and take your disgusting medicine.

On one hand, score, cute boy acting as your nurse. On the other hand, if he spends all day in your room tending to your sick-people needs, he's gonna get sick, and it'll be an utter nightmare trying to get him to take his medicine and actually rest. God knows he'll be trying to sneak in studying when you're not keeping an eye on him. You'll probably have to confiscate his weights so he doesn't try to work out while he's still sick. (Not that you aren't almost just as bad, but at least you're not a rabbit with godlike ability in terms of sheer power and speed to make it harder to deal with.)

As much as you'd adore having his presence with you to make you go from miserable to "miserable but also very aware of how in love you are and being forced to take gross meds" (which kinda cancels itself out), you don't want him getting sick or wasting his whole day on you. Also, you get the feeling he's probably smart enough to figure out that you haven't been resting as much as you say you have. For now, at least, you're sat on your balcony, leaned up against the railing lightly to get some fresh air. And that's where you fall asleep, exhaustion hitting you like so many trucks.

~

When you wake up, you're being cradled against Izuku's chest and carried to your bed. You shiver, feeling both heat and cold overtake you, and tears prick at your eyes as you realize your fever has almost definitely come back in full force. Izuku pulls back your covers and lays you down, not noticing you're awake until he moves to drape the blanket back over your body. His rabbit ears stand at full attention, his face lighting up just a moment before a playfully chiding look comes on his face.

"You shouldn't be sleeping outside like that, love, you'll get even more sick. And based on how hot you felt when I picked you up, you did." He places his hands on his hips, frowning even as you note the sparkle of affection in his eyes. You're not sure he's even capable of getting actually mad at you.

"Sorry," you mumble, bringing the covers up to hide your face and how utterly awful you look before deciding almost immediately that you're going to overheat under these covers. You writhe about just enough to kick them off, already feeling sweat form on your skin. "The air felt really nice."

You end up throwing a pillow over your face so at least the worst part of you is hidden, hugging it close when Izuku laughs and tries to move it away. "I brought breakfast, please quit hiding so you can eat?"

"But I look like shit," you whine into the pillow. "I don't even have the energy to get downstairs. I had to wash my hair in my bathroom sink."

Warm hands find their way to your wrists, gently prying your hands and the pillow away so you can meet his adoring gaze. If you weren't already flushed from fever, you'd probably have the energy for a blush to find its way to your face. "You're perfect, starshine," he says softly, causing your heart to stutter and your body to instantly melt. His library of pet names never ceases to pull you further into love.

Before you can find some response, he crosses the room to your desk, where he apparently set his Nurse Deku Kit™ so he could carry you back inside. You shift a bit to lean up against your wall, watching in amusement as the giant cotton ball he calls a tail twitches a little bit. You hope, idly, that he doesn't notice that your computer's only in sleep mo—

He bumps the mouse by accident, and the screen lights up immediately, showing your games library with a very obvious "recently played" list. Busted.

He lets out a little sigh as he turns back to you with a thermometer in hand. "Princess..." 

You try hard not to look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and smile innocently at him as he approaches. He sits on the side of your bed, and you tilt your head. "Something wrong?"

He holds out the thermometer, and you obediently let him stick it underneath your tongue, knowing he won't let you out of having your temperature taken. "Have you been resting?" 

You nod. He hums, clearly not believing you. "Are you feeling up to eating anything?"

Your nose scrunches up, your stomach turning at the thought. "Ughf," you force out around the thermometer. 

Izuku frowns, ruffling your hair as the thermometer beeps. He takes it from you, and his nose twitches as he reads the number. You'd fawn over how adorable it is if not for the look of worry that crosses his features. "Your fever's back, starshine. I really need you to rest more for me, okay?"

Not that you're planning on arguing, but it's really hard to have the will to when his ears drop down and he gives you a look like you just kicked a puppy. You nod, and he perks up just a bit, placing a new water bottle on your nightstand and reaching for a box of crackers. "I know you're not feeling up to eating, but can you do me a favor and eat just one cracker?"

You compromise with half a cracker before your body threatens to revolt for your hubris. You pause, forcing yourself to swallow it, and chase it with a bit of water. With Izuku's coaxing words and a minor break, you manage to choke down the rest without getting even sicker, and he gives you a strained smile that still manages to light up the room.

He leans forward, and you sense his intentions, narrowing your eyes and putting a hand up in front of his lips. "No."

Izuku lets out a disgruntled noise that's a mix between a grunt and a whine when his lips meet your fingers. "Baby," he whines out.

"No!" you insist. "You'll get sick, 'Zuku."

"But I miss you," he says as his ears fall all the way back, his eyes reminding you of one of those adoption commercials with all the sad animals that make you cry every time. "Please, starshine?"

Shit. You're already desperately trying to bring your resolve back. You swear he's figured out exactly how to get you to do what he wants, but you won't falter this time! "No kisses. I shouldn't even be letting you stay in the room to take care of me."

As if the bunny eyes and the oh-so-adorably-expressive ears weren't enough, he wiggles closer to you, taking your hand in both of his and running his thumb over it. "I got my flu shot, I'll be fine! I promise!" He pauses, pouting a bit. You can't tell if it's him thinking or another way to express how disappointed he is. "Please baby? Honey? Sweetheart? Starshine? Princess? Rosebud? Light of my life?"

"Nooo," you press with a giggle as he continues running through every possible pet name he can in a playfully pleading tone. "I know you got your flu shot, but so did I, and here I am."

"Still..." He keeps those damn green eyes (that's the official name for that shade, damn green) locked on yours sadly, and the guilt spikes in your stomach. "Just one?"

And like that, your resolve crumbles. "You're evil, you know that?" you mumble, tearing your eyes away. They dart back just in time to see his whole being light up, rabbit ears effortlessly perking up from their previous saddened position. "Using such a dirty trick. You get one."

You'd continue berating him for the crime of using his adorable face to get what he wants, but he immediately takes your face in his hands and begins showering your face with kisses–your cheeks, your nose, your forehead–everywhere except your lips, which he saves for last, a slow, sweet, chaste kiss that leaves you melting.

"Izuku..." you whine as he pulls away. "I said one."

He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. "Sorry, starshine. I couldn't help myself."

Your playful ire melts at the way his eyes flutter shut in contentment, small smiles on both of your lips. He surely knows by now that it's impossible for you to say no, not when he's this damn cute. 

A giggle surges out of you, followed by a coughing fit that you desperately cover in your elbow. When you catch your breath, you smirk at him, eyes sparkling. "If you get sick because of this, I'm confiscating your weights so you can't try to train."

"Alright, alright, I get it. You haven't taken your medicine yet today, right?" You wince, turning your head away preemptively. "'Zu-kun..." you whine.

"[name]..." His tone is gently chiding as he prepares the medicine, unscrewing the cap with one hand and gently placing the other under your cheek and pushing you back to face him. "You're not gonna get better if you keep trying to skip your medicine and sneak onto the computer instead of resting."

"But if I take the medicine, I might throw up the cracker, and it was so hard to eat just the one..." You give him your best puppy eyes, but he only smiles fondly and shakes his head, continuing to measure out your dose.

“You'll get all the cuddles when you're better if you take your medicine like you're supposed to," he promises.

You pout, but when he extends the dose cup filled with liquid distaste, you begrudgingly take it, downing it like the least pleasant shot you've ever had in your life. You gag on the swallow, but you down every drop, pouting at Izuku when it's all down. "Happy?"

"Very. You did a good job, princess." He ruffles your hair, and you really wish you could muster the energy to be flustered at the praise like you normally would, but honestly, you already feel yourself kind of drifting back off. Determined, you shoot him a smile and try to distract yourself from sleepiness.

"I know it's a weekend, but if I stay in bed and promise to get rest, can I get away with asking to see your notes from class?" You plead, giving him your best puppy-eyed look.

"I don't know, you haven't shown me a very good track record of actually resting," he says teasingly, not yet having looked at you as he rifles through his little kit for something else.

"'Zu-kun," you whine, stifling a yawn. "I don't wanna go to sleep yet. Please?"

Izuku disappears into your bathroom for a moment, followed shortly by the sound of running water, and when he emerges to see your pleading look, you can see his own resolve crumble.

Two can play at his little pleading game.

He smooths a hand over your forehead to move your hair out of the way, laying a blue towel over your sweat-slicked forehead that's cold, far too cold—

You let out a whine as you shiver. "How is it even that cold?" You mumble, shifting into your blankets more in an attempt to balance the heat.

"Oh, it's one of those exercise towels," he explains. "They're made so they get really cold when they're wet. I want to try to bring your temperature down, but if it's way too cold, I can get a regular towel instead–"

You shake your head. The cold does feel soothing, underneath all the cold cold cold so cold making you shiver. "Notes?" you remind him.

He leans forward and presses a quick peck to the towel in your forehead before you can stop him. "I love you, [name], but it can wait until you're feeling better."

"So can kisses," you retort, swatting at him lightly. "I don't wanna be useless the whole time I'm sick, so—" You break off into a yawn. "—so please let me study a bit?"

"Try to eat half of one more cracker before you fall asleep and I might consider it when you wake up," he says with a teasing grin. You pout and hold out your hand for him to place the broken cracker in. 

"I hate having crumbs in my bed," you mutter, nibbling away at the cracker. You barely manage to eat the half you were given, your body protesting your attempts to actually eat and keep something down all the while, but you do manage it.

Izuku's fingers entwine with your own, a fond smile on his face as you feel yourself nodding off. "[Name]?"

"Mm?"

"I love you. Get better soon, okay?"

"Love you too," you reply sleepily, another yawn wracking your body. "Sorry. I wanted to stay up and... talk with you... but..."

A hand finds its way into your hair to play with it as your eyes drift shut. "It's okay," he says adoringly, "We'll talk later. Get some rest, princess."

[seasonsofeverlark]

Beautiful Dreams

Author: @ameliaodair​

Prompt:  Katniss and the children are down with a cold. Peeta takes care of them. Brings them Lamb Stew and favourite baked goods. He draws colouring pages for the kids but all are colouring. He puts in a fall realted movie. As all who are sick are snuggled together in the master bedroom. Katniss says shes cold Peeta goes and gets more blankets walks out of the room to get more comes back and looks at his wife and children all cuddling together watching the movie and thinks how did he deserve this. [submitted by @katnissandpeeta125​]

Rating: G

Author’s Notes: Thank you @eiramrelyat​ for betaing :)

Word Count: 1977

___________

“Thanks, dad. Katniss caught the kids’ cold and woke up feeling pretty miserable this morning,”  I tell my father, explaining the care package I am picking up after placing the order at the butt crack of dawn.  It is filled with all of her favorite foods; two pints of lamb stew, a dozen cheese buns, and half a dozen mini rolls of Mallorca sweet bread for the kids.

“The kids are feeling better, though?”

“They’re on the uphill slope,”  I tell my dad as I climb into the driver’s seat of my car.  “I better hurry up and get back before the kids destroy the house. I love you, dad!”  I yell out to him before shutting the door behind me, and wave through the window as I pull out of the parking lot.

“Daddy, Daddy!”  Stella yells excitedly as soon as I open the door. She runs up to me and wraps her tiny arms around my legs⎯ nearly knocking me down in her all too adorable Winnie the Pooh pajamas. 

It utterly blows my mind at how easily children bounce back after being sick.  I remember around a year ago when Stella had the flu. It only took her two days before she was running around, bouncing off the walls and full of energy. Yet, when Katniss and I were run down with fevers, it had been almost a week before we could muster the energy to simply lift our heads from the pillow.  Thank goodness for our wonderful parents who live less than five minutes away, or I do not know what we would have done.

“Hey sweetheart, where is your brother?”  I ask her, making my way into the kitchen to place the care package down on the island.

“In his cwib, daddy,”  she tells me matter-of-factly, giving me a slight roll of her eyes as if I should already be aware of this information.  Scooping Stella up, I raise her in the air and blow a raspberry on her belly.

“Why don’t we go check on him?”  I ask her once her giggles subside, then I carry her into her and her brother’s room and set her down.

Lucas is sitting up in the corner of his crib, hugging one of his favorite stuffed animal teddy bears.  At the sight of me, he erupts into the most adorable toothless grin, seeming to emanate an almost iridescent light in the process.

“Come on big guy, how are you feeling today?”

“Da-da.  Ma-mee!”  He chirps, grabbing onto the rail of his crib to steady himself while holding his stuffed teddy bear out to me.  I reach in the crib to scoop him up, and the three of us make our way into the kitchen.  We stop at mine and Katniss’s bedroom first, and I crack the door open, poking my head in to peek in on her.  But no matter how sick she is, her hunter’s instincts are always as keen as ever, and she lifts her head groggily from her pillow.

“Peeta, are you okay, the kids—” She croaks, her froggy voice sounding no worse for the wear.

“We’re okay, I was just going to heat up some lamb stew.  You want some?”

“That sounds amazing.  Will you guys  keep me company?”  She whines in her sick throaty voice.

“Of course, just give us a few minutes and we’ll be in here.”

“Okay.”  She moans and her head collapses to the pillow, gravity getting the best of her.

Once we are in the kitchen, I strap Lucas into his highchair while I heat the lamb stew.

“Daddy, forgot to get dressed!”  Stella squeals, already trying to peel off her nightgown.

I pour the lamb stew into a pot and set it on the stove to simmer for a few minutes. “Honey, remember, we’re having a sick day, pajama’s only,”  I playfully scold her, twirling around like one of her ballerinas to show off my own pajama pants.

“Do you guys want to watch a movie with me and mommy in our bed?”  I ask Stella, raising my voice an octave near the end to make it sound more enticing than it actually is. 

“Wif lots of bwankets and piwwow’s?”  Stella beams, her eyes lighting up as if it’s Christmas morning.

“No—” I begin, frowning and pretending it’s a bad idea and my heart sinks when I see her eyes sadden a bit, so I quickly brighten my face with a radiant smile, “—with lots and LOTS of pillows and blankets!”  I finish quickly and watch as her eyes return to their previous state of sheer excitement.

“And coworing, daddy?”  she asks, already running into the playroom to collect her crayons.

Lucas is squirming in his seat, already bored of sitting there with nothing to do, so I hand him a wooden spoon to bang against the tray of his highchair.  Stella returns with her container of assorted crayons, and I frown at her, wondering why she didn’t bring her coloring books.

I stir the lamb stew and test it out on my tongue, making sure it’s hot enough, and then give my attention to Stella.

“You forgot your coloring books, sweetie.”  I point out.

“Siwwy daddy, you draw the coworings.” She grins, shaking her head and pointing to me.

“Oh, okay,”  I concede, shrugging my shoulders.  

One rainy day a few months ago, Stella was flipping through a coloring book, and noticing her frustration after the third time, I asked her what was wrong.  With a disappointed face, she informed me that the coloring book didn’t have the specific image she had in mind, so I offered to draw it for her.  Ever since then, Stella refuses to color in the pre-drawn coloring books⎯ preferring  my sketches instead, which I suppose I should be proud of.  My daughter does have exquisite tastes.

“I think it’s done, are you guys ready?”  I ask the kids after scooping the stew into two bowls and placing them on the food tray.  I remove the tray from Lucas’s highchair and pick him up to set him down on the floor.

“I’ll carry our food and drinks. Stella, will you help your brother?  We’ll come back for the rest after we eat.”

I carefully pick up the food tray which contains two bowls of lamb stew, a plateful of cheese buns, and the sweet bread, then motion for Stella to follow me into mine and Katniss’s bedroom.  When I look behind me to make sure they are not far behind, my heart swells with an inordinate amount of pride as I see Stella crawling on the floor next to Lucas.  She’s making a game of having him chase her into our room, and I cannot help the ear-splitting grin that overcomes my face⎯ nor do I want to.

Katniss is already sitting up in our massive bed and has made room for the three of us to climb in with her.  I hand her the soup and she takes it greedily⎯ lamb stew being her favorite.  Stella climbs in first and scoots up to Katniss, then I pick Lucas up from the floor and swing him in the air and plop him onto the bed. He bursts into a contagious round of giggles that Stella catches for a moment.

Once the kids have calmed down, I climb in next to the kids and we all situate ourselves under the covers, getting ready to have breakfast in bed as a family.  Stella grabs her own piece of bread and takes a bite into it.

“Peeta, will you hand Stella a napkin?  I don’t want crumbs—”  Before Katniss is able to finish, I already have a towel wrapped around Stella’s waist, ensuring that it will catch any pieces that do not make it into her mouth. 

Katniss turns her head to meet my eyes and mouths the words ‘I love you.’  I can’t help but lean over the kids and plant a kiss on her forehead.  “I love you too.”  I tell her, meeting her eyes.

“Daddy, you fowgot me!”  Stella mumbles with a mouthful of bread, glaring at me with those beautiful bright blue eyes that resemble my own. 

“One for you—” I tell her, kissing her cheek, and then move to Lucas, “And one for you.”

I begin pinching off pieces of the sweet bread dipped in lamb stew and feed it to Lucas in between bites of my own.

“You guys want to watch a movie?”  Katniss asks after turning her bowl up and slurping the last remnants of her stew.

“I want Winnie-Pooh!”  Stella squeals, scrunching her shoulders up excitedly.

“Winnie-The-Pooh it is!”  Katniss says excitedly, but I see her rolling her eyes behind Stella’s back.  Stella is obsessed with Winnie the Pooh, and we have probably watched ‘Winnie The Pooh’s Season of Giving’ at least fifty times since the beginning of October.  And since Lucas is too small to voice his opinion yet, Winnie The Pooh it is.

Once everyone has finished eating and are moaning over their full bellies, I clear the food from our bedroom and sit the food tray on the counter in the kitchen. I save the dishes for later, eager to return to my amazing family.  Stella disappears for a moment, returning with her container of crayons and my sketch pad.

“Dwaw Pooh, daddy?”  she asks me, her eyes so wide and blue⎯ how can I say no?  I scoop her into my arms, hugging her tightly, and place another kiss on her cheek.

“Of course, baby girl.”  I release her and she snuggles up to Katniss while I sketch her an image of the famous Pooh Bear.  She accepts the picture and secures it on her clipboard and begins coloring away. 

“No, Lucas, we don’t eat crayons, we color with them,”  I tell Lucas, giving him his own piece of paper and showing him how to utilize the crayons.  Fascinated with the array of colors, he begins fashioning his own masterpiece while we watch Winnie the Pooh.

Stella is exhausted by the time she has colored in every bit of white on her paper, as is Lucas.  Tired baby that he is, he nestles himself onto Katniss’s chest, while her chin rests on the top of his baby-soft hair.  She leans up to kiss the top of his head, inhaling his signature baby scent.

“Are you cold?”  I ask Katniss, but I already know the answer as I feel her shivering next to me.

“I’m okay.”  ‘Liar.’ I think to myself.

“I’ll be right back,”  I tell her, popping out of bed before she has time to object and run into the playroom to search for her favorite blanket.  The kids were making a fort a few nights ago, so it must be in here somewhere.  It takes me a little longer than I expected, but I finally find it.

Scooping it up, I make my way back to our bedroom but stop myself in the doorway⎯ my heart fills with so much joy I think it may explode on sight.

Sitting before me on our bed is my beautiful, amazing wife, fast asleep and lightly snoring, with Lucas curled up on her chest just the way he did as 0a newborn.  Stella is scrunched up on her side with Katniss’ arm securely around her back.  And all three of them are fast asleep.

Standing in the doorway, witnessing this perfect family we have created, I grin from ear to ear, intoxicated with so much love, wondering how I got so lucky for these amazing creatures to be mine.  I slip into bed next to them and kiss each of their heads before spreading the blanket out to cover all of us.  And although reality can’t get much better than this, I fall asleep, awaiting beautiful dreams.

[cialbi]

Boy with Hope: Lavender - Chapter Four

Summary: Severely depressed and addicted to alcohol, you had given up entirely on life. Your passion was gone, your friends had left you and you found yourself completely alone. As you closed your eyes for the last time, the smell of lavender wafted through your nose and a boy with purple wings appeared above you.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fantasy

Pairings: Angel Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: Language, Depression, Alcoholism

⤎Previous

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

The smell of citrus had you blinking your eyes open. It was a familiar smell, comforting. A scent you hadn’t smelled in a long time.

As your vision adjusted and your foggy head cleared, you noticed a display of stick-on stars plastered to the ceiling, glowing faintly against the autumn colored sunlight. You’d put them on almost every inch of your childhood bedroom when you were ten. Living in the city, stars were a rare sight, so you had concluded that this way, every night would be a starry one.

You sat up, knees hugged to your chest. A Disney princess blanket was draped over your lower half and ruffled pink pillows supported you comfortably as you leaned back against the headboard of your childhood bed. Looking around made you feel nostalgic, happy even. Seeing the array of stuffed animals that surrounded you and the zoetrope on your white wooden nightstand left a warm feeling in your gut. But something poked at your brain, telling you something was not right.

‘How did I get here?’ You wondered, though the thought felt distant, unimportant.

Before you could dwell on it, there was a knock at your door. “Y/N, can I come in?” That voice. You knew that voice.

“Yes, come in.” You said, almost automatically.

The door creaked open and the curly brown head of your mom poked in from behind. “Hi there sleepyhead, how are you feeling? I brought you some dinner.”

How were you feeling? “Um.. fine, I think?”

Your mom gave a soft laugh, entering your room with a tray of her special spaghetti and a tall glass of water. She placed the delicious smelling food on your nightstand before taking a seat beside you on the bed and reaching to place a hand on your forehead.

“Hmm… you’re still a little warm.” She confirmed. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Scrunching your brow, you tried to think about how you’re feeling, but all that comes up is a groggy mush and that irking in your tummy. An irking that this is an unusual situation and you’re not supposed to be here.

“Well…” You started. “I don’t feel sick.”

She smiled, her pale pink lipstick looking like a flower petal. “That’s good to hear. You really had us worried.”

Looking at your mom was surreal. It had been so long since you’d seen her face; her beautiful, soothing face that always put your mind at ease. On many occasions she’d been your support, held your hair back as you vomited from the overindulgence of alcohol. She’d scraped you off the steps of your house and helped you bathe away the sweat and barf in your hair. She had held you close as you cried from the pain of intoxication, and nursed you the next day with lots of water, alka seltzer and tums. She’d done so much for you, and in return all you did was fall deeper into the hole you were digging. And as you looked at every line of her face and her softly applied makeup, you couldn’t help but pull her into a hug.

“What’s this?” She giggled, hugging you back.

“Im sorry, mom.” You murmured, your voice muffled by her wool sweater.

“Oh, honey.” Ever so softly, she began to rub your back, something she did whenever you were distressed. It was soothing, familiar, and full of love. You couldn’t help but cry.

“I’m so sorry.” You blubbered, burying your face further into her shoulder.

“You should be.” The tone of her voice suddenly changed.

You blinked. ‘What?’  

That irking feeling began to scream as your mom’s grip tightened. The digging of her nails burned your flesh and had you yelp in pain.

“Mom what are you doing? Stop!” Wriggling, you tried to break free but she was too strong. When did she get that strong?

She laughed. Not the kind hearted laugh like before, but a morbid laugh that sent a chill down your spine. Nuzzling your neck, her lips ghosted your ear. “You’re a disappointment.”

Your eyes widened, tears spilling down your cheeks at the comment. Your mom had always expressed her concerns for you, her doubts and sadnesses, but she had never said anything so cruel before.

There was a tiny tickle on your cheek. With surprise, you used all your strength to pull yourself away from her chest only to see the woman you loved most crawling with cockroaches. Screaming, you scooched back against the wall and away from her. ‘Not this again. Please, not this again.’

Your mom didn’t move, sitting there with a deep frown on her lips. “How were we so unlucky to have a daughter like you?” She scowled.

Whimpering, you cried “Mom! I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry? You’re always sorry, but you never change. You can never change!” She grabbed your shoulders, fingernails piercing your flesh. You shriek in agony. There was a chirping noise as the cockroaches began to flood the room and creep their way up onto your bed. You bit your lip, sobs leaking out of your mouth. Shaking you, your mom growled. “You’ll never change! You’ll never change!”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” You repeated.

The chirping noise grew louder as the roaches overtook your arms, little legs writhing like snakes against your skin. You screamed again, trying to free yourself from her death grip but failing miserably. As you struggled, your mom relinquished one hand, only  to grab your forehead in another strong hold. You gasped as she began to smash your head against the wall.

“Die!” She raged.

“Stop!” You cried. Your scalp became wet as  blood trickled down your neck. “Please stop mom!”

“Die already!” Her eyes flashed red, her flower petal lips pulled back in a horrifying snarl. “Just die! Just die!”

Just.

DIE!

Your eyes shot open, the sight of your ceiling fan welcomed you with gentle blows of cool air. ‘Ugh. Just a dream.’ You groaned aloud and flopped your arms across your face in exhaustion.

“So, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes.”

You sat up abruptly to see the black-haired man from the hallway sitting in your desk chair with his legs apart and hands folded neatly in his lap. There’s a clear smirk on his striking face as he eyed you in amusement.

“You… what the fuck are you--” The throbbing in your head cut you off. You put a hand to your forehead and breathed deeply, sweat soaking through your shirt.

“I take it you didn’t sleep well?” He quipped, the look on his face made you want to smack him.

Ignoring him, you rubbed your temples and swallowed thickly. Your mouth was dry and there was an irrevocable thirst that itched in your throat.“Wh-um--what the hell happened?”

He adjusted himself, leaning back against the chair and crossed his arms over his chest before extending a ringed finger to point at your bedside table. “Water’s over there.”

You looked to where he pointed, and sure enough there was a tall glass of water and two tablets of Advil just beckoning for you to claim them. Your muscles groaned as you reached for them, swallowing the tablets first and then finishing it off with desperate gulps of water. When you finished, you placed the empty glass back on the table and wiped at your lips.

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow at your eagerness. “Better?”

You coughed, choking a little on some spit. “Um.. yeah. Thanks.”

His pretty lips tugged into a sneer, a suitable expression for his intimidating appearance. “Don’t thank me.”

An awkward silence flew between you two. You looked at your hands and pinched at your wrist, not daring to meet the scary angel-man’s boring stare. At least you assumed he was an angel too, since he seemed to be Hoseok’s friend. And he had one of those silver crosses. But you would not at all be surprised if he turned out to be the devil's incarnate.

“So.” His voice broke the silence, startling you to look up at him. His chin was angled so that his lashes cascaded a shadow down his cheekbone, making him look even more beautiful and even more frightening. “What do you remember?”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. Your head was fuzzy, but you could faintly remember running barefoot like a maniac all the way to Martin’s Liquor. “Did I…?

“Drink?” He snorted, leaning forward to rest his chin on top of his folded hands. “No. But you did cause one hell of a shitstorm princess.”

You furrowed your brows quizzically. “What do you mean?”

The dark-haired man cracked a smile. Not a cheerful, warm and fuzzy smile like Hoseoks. The kind that makes you feel like the whole world is in on a joke about you. “Went absolutely bananas. Destroyed half a liquor store. Almost killed a guy. Any of that ring a bell?”

Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were saying, the words started to tumble out. “That wasn’t my fault! I was being attacked. They were everywhere, those… those…” You gasped, finally remembering everything. “Cockroaches.” Shifting your position, you were now completely facing him, eyes almost pleading. “You have to believe me. They were there. It wasn’t a hallucination, I swear.”

“Oh I believe you, sweetheart.” He licked his lips, eyes rolling to look at the ceiling in a bored sort of interest.

“You.. you do?” You leaned forward eagerly.

The angel brought his head back down to level with yours. His expression was unreadable. “I believe you thought they were there.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re sane.” He said matter of factly.

On top of being terrifying, this guy was a colossal jerk. Tears started to well in your eyes. You felt frustrated. You knew what you saw. But none of the other store clerks had seen it. Could you really be crazy? After everything you put yourself through, have you officially snapped? You were obviously seeing things that no one else could see. You trashed a store and, like the angel said, nearly killed a guy. The friendly, freckled face of the store clerk, soaked in blood flashed through your mind. A deep pang of guilt stabbed through your heart.

“That guy… is he ok?” The shame made you stare at the floor as you begged the question.

The dark-haired man sighed. “He’s fine. Hoseok took care of everything.” The dubious look you shot him made him sigh again. “With magic. He took away their memory and healed that guy you shoved. You don’t have to worry about a lawsuit anymore. All they’ll think is that the store was trashed by a crazy robber, or something like that.”

“Oh…” Was all you could say in response.

“That’s it?” He raised a brow. “No questions?”

You shook your head.

You should be asking more questions. This whole thing was utterly perplexing. Magic? Erasing memories? You knew about the healing, but it still caught you off guard. You should be freaking out, or running out the door again. But you had no energy left and you felt like you were going crazy. So you slumped back against the wall and allowed more tears to fall.

“Oh god. I’m completely insane.” You whimpered, lip quivering.

The dark-haired man fished out a pack of cigarettes followed by a silver lighter. He stuck the cancer stick between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag and exhaling deeply. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Ok that’s enough.” A stern voice called.

Hoseok appeared from behind your kitchen door. He was holding a plate of steaming food and a glass of orange juice. His eyes were fixed with a warning stare which he directed towards his stoic friend. With a tut, he made his way over to your bedside and placed the food in your lap and the OJ in your hands. You sniffed, wiping away the tear stains and taking a little sip.

“Yoongi-hyung.” His voice softened but remained firm. “You can’t say things like that to her.” He turned his attention back to you. “Don’t mind him, love. He’s an incurable asshole.” You heard a grunt of disapproval. “Here, eat something. You must be starving.”

It felt like a millennia since you last ate, but as you looked down at the nicely prepared pancakes, you couldn’t find it in yourself to eat. Instead, you avert your eyes to the two men who are now seated side by side, with Hoseok seated criss-crossed on the floor and Yoongi still comfortably reclined in your desk chair.

They both stared at you in intense silence, as if you’d explode if one of them dared to move. You looked once more at the food, then back at them. A new found frustration boiled in your veins. How in the hell did they expect you to eat now? The entire situation was bananas, you felt bananas. And despite your exhaustion, you now had questions and a burning desire for some sort of emotional release.

“I’m sorry.” You started. Biting back the hostility in your voice, you slid the food off your lap and placed the OJ on your nightstand. “You have to forgive me. It’s been--well it’s been quite the day. First, some strange man breaks into my apartment, claiming to be an angell and heals me with his bare hands. And then, would you know it, sprouts enormous purple wings. Ok yeah, that’s weird. But then his moody, outcast-wannabe friend appears out of nowhere, tries to grab me--”

“Moody outcast? Is that me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the strange man with purple wings.”

“--and basically calls me crazy.” You continued, throwing them a ‘shut-up and don’t interrupt me' glare. “I see hundreds--no thousands--of disgusting mother-fucking cockroaches trying to flipping eat me, but no one else seems to see that. Instead I’m just this batshit-bonker balls lady who almost killed a guy and probably backrupted an entire store. Than this brooding asshole--”

“Yoongi.”

“--I don’t care. Tells me you--” You throw your arms up at Hoseok. “--apparently erased their memories, and used your magic-hands to heal that poor guy, which still sounds ridiculous. So please. Forgive me for asking. But just what in God’s fucking name is going on here and should I check myself for a psych-eval now or just wait until I actually kill someone. Because honestly, I still have no fucking idea if this is all in my head, or am I really--am I really standing here, venting my life problems to two of the lords chosen ones who have been the entire center of this loony-tunes day.” You take a deep breath, regaining all the lost oxygen you have just spent on your tirade, and turn to face the dumbfounded expressions of angel-dee and angel-dumb. “So now, I’m going to be quiet, and hope that for heaven’s sake, one of you will explain.”

“Uh…” Yoongi was the first to speak up. Not breaking eye contact with you, the dark-haired angel slapped a hand across Hoseok’s shoulder. “Wow man. Good luck with this one.”

Hoseok blinked in disbelief, like he doesn’t know where to begin. “Uhm… demons.”

Now it’s your turn to blink in disbelief. “Guzuntight?”

Blinking a few more times, Hoseok seemed to regain his composure. “Yes. Those were demons.”

“I’m sorry, demons? I thought you guys were angels.” You narrowed your eyes at Yoongi. “Except maybe this one.”

Yoongi returned your glare with sparks flying between you two. “He means the cockroaches.” He explained, sliding back into his collected demeanor.

“Wait.” You wiggled a finger next to your head as if the motion could somehow translate english to english. “The cockroaches… are… demons? Demons?”

Hoseok cleared his throat, preparing for a long explanation. “Yes. Well… sort of.” The ‘I-do-not-follow’ look on your face urged him to continue. “Let me put it this way.” He stood and held out a hand, palm facing up. A single glowing orb generated from his hand and hovered inches in the air. You gasped, because despite everything you’d seen today, you were still not used to this who magic-thing. “Every human has a soul. Bright, hopeful, full of light.” He said. “But when that soul is shrouded in darkness, it invites demons to come and manipulate that soul until there is no light left.” As he said this, the orb’s glow gradually dimmed until it was completely gone.”Our job as angels is to protect these particular souls and help them to find their light again, so that it doesn't disappear and leave the human empty.”  

You nod. This all sounds completely bonker-balls, and you’re not entirely following, but you decide to probe further. “So… those cockroaches were demons… coming after my… my soul?”

Hoseok grinned, squinty eyes twinkling as you were finally putting it together. “Yes!”

Demons coming after your soul. Not the most illogical thing you’ve heard today. “Ok, but wait. Why haven’t I seen them before?”

There was a pause. Hoseok’s eye-smile dropping, lips dipping into a said frown. “You tried to kill yourself.”  At the same time, all three of you lowered your gazes to the floor. Another moment of silence passed before Hoseok continued. “That’s when the soul is almost completely consumed by the darkness.”

You bit your lip. “So then I’m…”

“No! Don’t worry. Before I could let that happen to you, I brought you back.” The orange-haired angel assured you. “It’s just now… everytime you reach out for that darkness… it’s like a perfume for demons. They’re attracted to that scent of humans giving into their… well… personal demons. They take on your worst fear and use that fear to devour you. Your soul is still so sunk in black that even the slightest relapse will send them on your tail.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Could you say that in a way I can understand?”

“You drink, you’re demon food.” Yoongi chimed in.

Hoseok’s eyes rolled to the ceiling as he breathed through his nose. “As a manner of speaking.”

You laughed bitterly. “Great.” The one thing your body desperately wants and you couldn’t have it. Because if you do, your soul turns completely black and demons get to eat your innards like spaghetti.

“Think of it like a cockblock. Don’t drink and the demons won’t bother you. Simple.” Yoongi affirmed, giving you a solid thumbs up which made you groan. Hoseok was right. Incurable asshole.

“Well no. It’s not that simple.” Hoseok smacked his friend’s leg. “We need to find a way to bring back that light in your life. And until then, I’m here to stay.

You frowned. You almost thought it was better when he was just a psycho on the loose. Because having a legitimate messenger of God all up in your business was way too much pressure. And to be frank, kind of scary. “And for how long?”

Hoseok scuttled over to take a seat next to you. “See this?” He tugged at the cross around his neck and presented it to your line of vision. He tapped softly next to an onyx jewel embedded in the middle. His gorgeous face beamed with excitement. “This is your soul… well a representation of it. When this completely turns white, then I’ve completed my mission and I’m out of your hair. I swear.”

Looking over to Yoongi, you eyed his necklace which also had an onyx jewel in the center of his cross. The dark-haired angel followed your gaze and looked down too. Then suddenly he stood up.

“And with that, I’m outta here.” He said plainly. “Got my own business to attend to.”

“Still haven't found her, hyung?” Hoseok asked his friend.

Yoongi sighed, a ghost of a sad smile on his lips, which surprised you to see any sort of emotion from him. “She’s a tough one to find.”

Before you could ask what they’re talking about, Yoongi made his way to your window, opening the latch and raising the pane all the way up. He perched like a hawk about to take off, the glowing autumn light casting a lovely glow against his porcelain skin.

“Hey!” You yelled, jumping to your feet but not daring to move.

“Don’t worry princess. They may not be purple, but they’re just as big and just as strong.” He said, sending you a little wink.

Your mouth opened and closed, wondering what he meant until two huge black wings burst from his back. They beat a couple of times to adjust themselves, sending a soft current of wind against your face.

“Oh my God.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yoongi chuckled melodically, a beautiful sound you never thought his snarky lips could make. “Not quite.”

“Let me know when you find her, hyung!” Hoseok shouted after the dark-haired man as he leapt from the window and disappeared from sight.

Your head began to spin as yet another unbelievable thing just happened today. As you sat back down on your bed, you turned to look at Hoseok, trying to find any words. But all that could come out was, “Can’t you guys just use the friggin’ door?”

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

A/N 

Again, pretty much unedited. Will go back later to edit. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

Cial

[haloshornsinkstains]

Shiratorizawa Snowball War [Tendou]

ngl, I actually really like this one.  pre-relationship Tendou Satori x GN!reader , fluff and snowy nonsense

“Ushi you can’t spike a- Holy Shit! Did anyone else know you could spike a snowball?”

Shiratorizawa is a prestigious school, the entrance exams are difficult and the students it produces are some of the best in the prefecture (even outside of the volleyball club). It means long study hours and a lot of time spent on extra-curricular activities. All of which sometimes makes it easy to forget that you’re all still teenagers, especially now you’re a third year with college prep and the looming threat of graduation, of potential separation from your closest friends. You want nothing more than to cling to the moments of happiness and childish fun while you still can, to indulge in the wild whimsy your best friend can bring out in you with his infectious grin and spontaneous ways. The best friend you’ve been falling for since you met him. Winter presents an unexpected opportunity for hijinks in the form of a sudden heavy snowfall.

You awake to the sound of your phone buzzing, the world outside your dorm carpeted in white. Groggily you lift the phone to your ear, answering the call. “Hello?” “Y/N, my favourite non-volleyball playing partner in crime, have you seen outside?” You perk up at the sound of your best friend's voice, already picturing the wild hand movements he’s probably making while talking to you. With a hum you peer through the gap in the curtains before nearly dropping the phone in shock. “Woah… white.” Tendou cackles on the other end of the line. “Snow! Y/N-chan, we got snow!” Your lips tug up into a grin. “You thinking what I’m thinking Tori?” “Snowball fight?” “Yes! Round up the team, let’s have a war.” You laughed, already picturing the kinds of mischief you could get up to. “It’s on cutie. Meet you at the gym in thirty minutes.” You flushed at the name but just about managed to choke out a confirmation before hanging up, dashing around your room to layer yourself up in preparation for the cold outside. You’d probably end up cold by the end of it anyway, the wet snow no doubt soaking through your layers, but at least you could start the day warm. Checking in the mirror one last time, fiddling with your hair in an attempt to look maybe a little more attractive for Tendou, you dashed out of the door and towards the gym.

“What are we doing here you menace?” “Aww, Shirabae, don’t be like that!” You laughed, stepping into the gym with a broad smile. “Morning guys.” “Don’t call me that, I hate you.” Shirabu huffed, glaring at you and then Goshiki as the first year bounded across the hall towards you. “L/N-san! Tendou-san didn’t say you were coming!” “He didn’t give us any reason as to why we were here at all.” “Don’t be like that Wakawaka!” Tendou pouted, shaking his head at the captain. “I thought it would be obvious.” “It was not.” Ushijima frowned. “It is good to see you again L/N.” You laughed, untangling yourself from Goshiki and walking over to stand beside your best friend, leaning slightly against his warmth as he automatically brought an arm around your shoulders. “So, why did you drag us out here in the cold?” Semi sighed. You and Tendou exchanged giddy grins before replying in unison “snowball fight.” “No. Absolutely not.” Shirabu huffed. “Will it improve our volleyball skills?” You smiled at Ushijima. “You can practice your aim.” “Then I will agree.” “Y/N is spouting nonsense!” Shirabu huffed. “All that’ll happen is we will get cold and wet and miserable.” “Lighten up Shirabae. You’re allowed to have fun.” Semi huffed, having picked up on the nickname quickly. He shot a glare at you and Tendou cackled.  “Worried your aim isn’t good enough to get the rest of us?” He laughed, breaking into a tune, his hip bumping into yours. “Shirabae is a coward, too scared to hit us with snow…” “Fine! I’ll do it.” You cheered, grinning happily at the boys as they all nodded in agreement. “It’s war!”

War was a pretty good description for the snowball fight that followed. Volleyball players are, unsurprisingly, excellent shots. Although with their size they also made for great targets, especially the tall and broad shapes of Ushijima and Semi. Tendou was a menace, his intuition allowing him to easily dodge most of the snowballs sent his way (once he stopped instinctually trying to block them). Even Kawanishi was wearing a small smile by the time things really got going. You used your smaller stature to your advantage, ducking and diving out of the path of as many snowballs as you could, and using others as sheilds where possible. You spotted Ushijima tensing up as a well packed snowball flew towards him, aimed by Semi. “Ushi you can’t spike a- Holy Shit! Did anyone else know you could spike a snowball?” The momentary distraction created by the shock of watching the captain spike a damn snowball right into Yamagata’s back was your undoing. Tendou barreled his way towards you, tackling you to the ground and rolling through the snow. You shrieked as you tumbled down, the snow working its way down your neck and chilling you to the core. “Tori! That was playing dirty!” He grinned down at you, his body pinning yours against the ground. “All’s fair in love and war sweetcheeks.” With a huff you grabbed a handful of snow, shoving it in his face. Tendou cackled, the two of you scrabbling about in the snow, much to the amusement of the rest of the team who had stopped fighting to watch you. Finally you admit defeat, laying back in the snow, face flushed from exertion and maybe a little a lot from the pressure of Tendou straddling your hips with a wild grin on his face. You hope he’s too caught in the thrill of victory to notice how flustered you are, at least he doesn’t mention it. You just lie there, staring up into his face and maybe, secretly, hoping this is the moment your life becomes a shojo manga and he leans down to kiss you. To tell you that warm glint in his eyes means he feels the same way you do. He is leaning down though, and you’re almost sure you’re dreaming as he does.

“I think we should go inside now.”  The sound of Ushijima’s voice snaps the tension and you bite back a sound of disappointment as Tendou pushes himself off you, extending a hand to haul you to your feet. You brush the snow from your clothes and start to follow the others back, but now you’re no longer running around the chill starts to seep through you, the damp snow soaking your clothes only making it worse. You shiver, rubbing your hands down your arms in a futile attempt to warm up. At least it’s not far to the dorms. “Cold?” You jump at the voice, turning to shake your head at your best friend, even as you teeth chatter and betray you. He rolls his eyes, hands fiddling with the zipper of his own jacket and you shake your head wildly. “You can’t do that Tori! Your noodle arms will freeze off without a jacket.” He pouts a little, though the effect is lost with the affectionate way he smiles at you. “I have a better idea!” You watch in confusion as he unzips the jacket and opens his arms wide, as if asking for a hug. Slowly you step forwards, letting him pull your back against his chest and zip the jacket up around you. It’s ridiculous and awkward but it is warm. The pair of you shuffle along awkwardly behind the rest of the team, Shirabu looks at you like he thinks you’ve both gone completely insane before marching off away from you. Any other day you might think to be offended, but you’re too busy trying to hope Tendou can’t hear your heart racing, or the way the blood rushes in your ears.

They sneak you into their dorms with ease, it’s not the first time and you doubt it’ll be the last, and Tendou finally releases you from the jacket to rifle through his drawers. He throws some clothes your way with a thumbs up. “Change! Or I’m not helping when you get sick.” You flash him a thumbs up in return, ducking out to the bathroom to change before he starts stripping and gives you a nosebleed, or a stroke.  By the time you return the boys have set up camp in the common room, wrapped in warm blankets procured from various rooms, mostly Tendous if the various anime prints are anything to go by. He grins at you from his seat, pulling his blanket up and gesturing for you to sit beside him. Gratefully you settle next to the warmth of his body, letting him pull you into his side and wrap the blanket around you both. The exhaustion of a day spent running around in the cold finally starting to settle over you. Somewhere you could hear someone preparing tea, probably Ushijima and Shirabu, they were the most sensible. With a yawn you let your weight fall against the body beside you, closing your eyes, floating somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

Semi watched carefully from his position across the room, shuffling a bit closer and elbowing his teammate in the side once he decided you were asleep. “Are you ever going to tell them?” He sighed, gesturing towards you. Tendou shook his head. “I can’t. We’re just friends, I can’t lose their friendship, they don’t-” Semi cut him off with a scowl. “For someone who’s usually so good at reading people you’re an idiot. Friends don’t look at friends like that.” Tendou raised an eyebrow.  “They look at you like you hung the moon. And don’t think I missed you nearly kissing them earlier. Just tell them you idiot, watching the pair of you pine after each other like lovestruck idiots is disgusting.” Your breath caught in your throat, you knew you shouldn’t have let them think you were asleep but you had to know. And now you did. Covering it with a yawn and faux return to wakefulness, you blinked slowly at Semi, watching as Ushijima and Shirabu appeared from behind him carrying warm drinks, with instructions that you should return to your own dorm once you were warm in case someone found you. 

You decided you were going to tell him how you felt on the walk back.

[ripspaghet]

bff | 06

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | ongoing

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 5,860

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, cheating, self hate, trauma

Gone. Gone again. Anytime he feels he's gotten closer to unearthing the melody it slips from his fingertips, like water. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have this desire, this want. Every time it's silent he feels there's this void, something gaping within him, and life begins to feel dismal - yet, he still finds himself here, in this dark and desolate place that doesn't belong to him. A single red light aluminates in the darkness and he's left with no choice but to approach, shatter the glass, and enter. It isn't until screeching alarms pull in attention that he truly realizes that this place is not his own. Invaded. Breached. Ransacked. He's an unwelcome guest - although, these simple facts don't stop him. They pull him in, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he takes a seat. Fear and adrenaline suffocate the darkness looming around him, screaming that he is not wanted. He just needs to remember it. His fingers run along with the ivory keys, the smooth melody of the first five notes flowing into each other, only for an eerie pause of silence to follow. He lets his fingers slip from the keys. It's useless.

A soft echo of notes makes his eyes open.

He turns, looking for where the tune originated - but there's nothing, no one as far as the eye can see in this dense cloud of darkness. Nothing but the alarm filters through.

It's been exactly a day since it happened. The way your nerves are making your heart quake has, if nothing else, increased with time. You've been utterly restless - pacing around your dorm, spacing out while staring at the chipped paint of your white walls, and picking at hangnails excessively. You know you're going to have to face this. Otherwise, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it. It's safe to say you'd rather be the one pulling the rug, then be the one standing on it, waiting anxiously for your inevitable downfall.

You knock on the door about five times before it finally opens, making way to the threshold beyond it and a pair of pleasantly surprised eyes. Her gaze makes your stomach drop, so you opt for studying the interior details of her apartment. It's spacious and open, natural light pouring in from just about every nook and cranny. It suits her, she's never been one for reciting in the dark - despite her, more often than not, glaring gaze.

"____," She opens the door wider, "I didn't know you were coming, I would've made food if you called. Come in." You oblige, taking off your coat as you enter the apartment, the smell of scented candles, and floral encasing you in a spring time-capsule. You hang your coat on the rack next to the door. "It's been so stressful since the new semester started, we've barely had any time to hang out." You follow her into the kitchen after removing your shoes. "Work has been crazy too, you remember that kid that kept coming in and ripping the flowers off their stems?" She circles the center bar, making her way to the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of what you presume to be tea as she pours it into a glass, "Well, the manager refuses to ban him. He blames me for allowing the kid to destroy our merchandise." She slides the glass to you, "You prefer it cold, right?" She sighs, "That manager, such a prick. I'm really considering quitting if this keeps up." Remaining silent you watch as she fiddles with her own glass as she rambles, "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship or anything. It's just between all this and...Yoongi," Your stomach drops and your ears go fuzzy. You don't hear much of what she says, swearing you're about to barf up the chicken you'd had for lunch not all that long ago. Her voice lowers as if she's afraid someone might be listening in, "He's being so strange, showed up h-"

"Mina, I need to talk to you about something." You don't dare meet her eyes, you keep them downcast on the dewdrops of condensation rising on the glass of your untouched drink. She falls silent, the air around you becoming heavy. With a sigh, you take a seat at the bar but still neglect to touch the tea in front of you. Mina moves to take the seat next to you, still silent, observing your exhausted expression. "Listen, about Yoongi - I don't really know how to say this, so, I'll just say it. He k-"

You're startled into a flinch as fumbling footsteps followed by a loud crash of glass and fuck knows what else, cuts you off. As you turn your head, a lanky body stumbles out of the hallway into the kitchen, their back to you and Mina as a harsh swear makes your breath hitch. Dirt and glass is now spread out across the marble floor in a messy display and Mina moves quickly while you remain in your seat, watching as she rushes with worried words, "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?" 

As if you hadn't already realized, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, heart slamming up into your throat as his dark hair falls over his brows and shifts ever so slightly with the tilt of his head, "I'm fine, " His dark eyes never leave you as Mina scans him for injuries, "your plant, not so much."

"I'll get the broom." Mina saunters off, leaving you alone with the source of your guilty conscience - you're dripping with it, a metaphorical layer of sweat against your skin that's almost suffocating.

"____-"

"Don't."

"Got it! Yoongi, hold this for me."

His mouth is quick to clamp shut as he takes the dustpan that's shoved into his chest, his eyes darting away from you, "Yeah, sure."

Mina works quickly as always, swiping the dark potting soil up into the yellow pan that Yoongi holds steady. Nervously, you shift your gaze away from the two and pick up your tea to take a large gulp.

This is going up in flames. How are you supposed to tell her with him here? You don't want to be- No, you shouldn't be caught up in this. You should have never let it happen…

"There," Mina's voice pulls your attention back up, "I'll-"

"No, I've got it." His hand lightly brushes her wrist before he turns to dispose of the dirt. The gesture is small enough to convince you that neither of them really noticed it - just a natural loving touch, nothing unusual - though, it's enough to make you look away again.

"____? Are you alright?"

Your breath hitches and you have to force the hard expression on your face to loosen, "I'm f-fine." They are together, happy, maybe even in love. He hasn't said a word to her about any of it, yet, he wasn't alone in the act. You could've stopped him. You could've pushed him away, should've told him no. She's your best friend and you let him-

"What was it you were saying? Something about Yoon-"

"Nothing," You force a big smile, "I think I was just a bit worried about you. As you said, we haven't made time for each other lately."

"Oh, " Her lips purse, "we should make time for each other soon then."

How selfish are you? Never in your life have you thought of yourself as a horrible person. But now? Your skin is crawling with self-loathe. Every time you meet Mina's gaze your stomach drops - not because of what happened, but because of how it made you feel. The images that run rampant in your head shouldn't be there. It's all the worse that there was no lust driving your actions - there was a deep-rooted desire, an intoxicating burning beneath your skin that makes you dizzy just thinking about it. A passionate fire had dwindled to life beneath your ribcage. It should make you sick. You should be repulsed at the mere thought. "I should get going now. I don't want to intrude on your couple time. I'll see you in class."

"You don't-"

"Call or text if you need me."

The hallway is clustered with people, bumping shoulders with you as you drag yourself along. Maybe it's best you act like it never happened, that Mina remains happy and not miserable knowing the man she is in love with kissed her best friend...and that her best friend allowed it - kissed him back even. And maybe you deserve this dreadful feeling that's swelling inside, growing larger day by lousy day.

You stop abruptly, a student behind you swearing at you for making them walk around. You don't know why you've stopped, don't know what urges you to turn your head but, never the less, you do. You blink at the letters next to the door. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you peek through the small door window. It's tantalizing, filling you with more anger than any remorse. You let this thing, this object, control you. Your every move and action revolves around running from it and for what?

Before you can convince yourself otherwise you're yanking the door open and marching in, heading straight for the ivory keys sat on the opposite side of the music room. How could you be afraid of something so ridiculous? It's pathetic. You plop down on the bench, eyes set to kill as your fingers naturally fall into the correct posture. And with a soft and steady exhale of air, your fingers slowly ignite, brushing along the keys with a fevered nostalgia.

'Prélude no.25 in C sharp minor, Op.45', a piece you once knew like the back of your hand. The memories of it still linger fresh in your mind, so much so that your hands could flow with the smoothness of the lilting notes even in your sleep. Your turmoil seems to whip and lash at your fingertips like a ravenous animal as the song crescendos, the tempo increasing with veracity and then it cuts through you, a sharp pain traveling up your right wrist and you yank your hands away. The room falls silent, nothing but the sounds of birds chirping outside and the wind whistling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you can't help but slam your foot into the floor out of frustration.

"____?"

Your breath catches in your throat, fear falling in the pit of your stomach as you turn your head.

"What are you doing in here?"

The sight of Jimin's blonde hair and worried eyes only calms you a little. You'd worried that maybe someone else had found you here, but it being him wasn't exactly any better. "I just-" You turn to look back down at the piano, your brows knit together, "I don't know."

"Come on," Jimin is quick to make his way over to you, yet you don't turn back to face him - even when he wraps his hand around your wrist and gently pulls it up to inspect, "you shouldn't do this to yourself." You turn slowly, reluctant to face anyone at such a vulnerable moment, but you manage to frown at him as the pad of his thumb traces soothing patterns into your skin. His hair is swept neatly across his forehead, a soft smile plays on his lips that doesn't meet his eyes, "Does it still hurt?"

"It hurts every day, Jimin." You turn away, "You know that."

"You're strong ____."

You flinch, not expecting him to say that, of all things.

"After everything that's happened, I've never known you to give up. So, stop putting yourself down." He pauses, coming to sit beside you but never letting your wrist go, "I know you can't play anymore, but your talent doesn't just exist within a piano. It's a lot more than that." Still refusing to meet his gaze, you begin picking at a hangnail, "Here," He lets your hand go and you briefly glance over to see what he's doing just as he holds a small yellow sucker out to you, "it's lemon flavored."

You glance down at the thing held up to your face, "Why-"

"You like lemonade, right?" He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Hurry and take it, we have to get to class before you're late again."

You snatch the candy from him, sniffling in annoyance, "What am I? A five-year-old?"

"You don't have to be a child to enjoy the sweeter things in life."

You abruptly plop down into your chair between Mina and Jimin, exhaling dramatically as you do. If only it'd all been a dream and you could just forget it. How many times have you thought that now? Were you in the Hundreds now? Thousands?

"Everything alright?"

Like clockwork, you sputter nervously under Mina's gaze, "Ah, yeah, just tired. Must be insomnia or something."

"Insomnia?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to look at you, "Do you have that?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? I'm not a doctor. Where is the professor?" Both of them turn their attention to the front of the class, seemingly not taking notice of your jumpy behavior. Though, you're sure Jimin did. He just knew when it was time to leave you be.

"Oh, that, " Mina nibbles on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, "Professor Lee caught some nasty bug over the weekend."

"I fail to see why that would make you smile like a little school girl that just wet herself."

She scowls at Jimin, "The professor asked a former student of his to teach the class until he returns."

What?

"Oh, wow, so Loverboy is subbing just so he can stare at your toxic face all day? I don't buy it. He must be into guys."

"Excuse me?"

You think you're about to vomit up your breakfast.

"He finds me cute and couldn't get enough."

"He absolutely does not!"

Please, for the love of all that's good in this world.

"Told me himself."

"Stop making shit up, Park!"

"As soon as you stop buzzing in my ear, you fly."

"I am not a fly! You-"

The classroom door slams and you jump in your seat, making both Jimin and Mina turn to you questioningly as you squeeze your eyes shut in denial. Slow footsteps make their way to the front of the lecture hall and the echo of them makes you cringe.

There is absolutely no way the universe hates you enough to-

"Hello, my name is Min Yoongi, a music producer and a former student of Professor Lee's. Unfortunately, the Professor is bedridden and has asked me to substitute for the time being, let's get along well."

Never mind, the universe doesn't hate you - it loathes you. You'd think that after everything you'd have no trouble avoiding him. Hell, you thought that he'd do the same, but you suppose Min Yoongi isn't going to be giving you any breaks anytime soon.

You let your head fall from your hands and slam into the desk beneath you with a concerningly loud thud.

"Woah, are you alright?" Jimin places a hand on your shoulder and you miserably slug away from him.

"Don't touch me."

The class drags on like a snail and you've sat here long enough to, staring at a head of dark hair, try to hex the man it belongs to about a thousand times - give or take. You've yet to see a beehive fall from the ceiling and send him running home though.

When the bell finally does ring you're not even granted the semblance of running out yourself as Mina cuts you off, "I'm having my birthday party early this year."

"Oh, really? When is it?" You keep your head down as the two of you mosey along, closer and closer to the front of the classroom.

"Tomorrow at my place."

You nod, more focused on escape than anything else.

"It was going to be on my birthday week, but Yoongi and I made plans together for the day of my birthday. We're going to-"

"That's great Mina. I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together." You force a smile as if your life depends on it, "Say, what time is the party?"

"Oh," Mina laughs with realization as you inwardly sigh with relief at the welcomed change of subject, "it's at eight."

"Great."

Mina bounces over to the exit with excitement, "You'll be there?"

"Of course." You force another smile as you follow after her.

Almost there, almost home free.

"Great, I'll see you then."

You nod again at the threshold, watching as Mina waves back to you.

"____, I need to speak with you."

You freeze, a deadly chill rushing down your spine. "No, thanks." You wave behind you, not turning back as you continue with your escape.

"It's about your test."

You freeze again, your eye twitching at your lack of luck today, "I'm in a real rush, I can't-"

"Come here, now."

Fuck the universe, that vindictive bitch. 

Reluctantly, you turn and make your way back towards the center of the desk you had passed by with ease not all that long ago, "You failed your last test. Professor Lee informed me that you need to retake it, or you'll fail this class."

You keep your eyes directed on the wall behind him, not once sparing him a proper glance, "Okay, I'll find a tutor and-"

"There's no available tutors, because it's exam season. I told Professor Lee I'd handle this, so I'll be teaching you."

Your eyes are quick to dart to his now, "No!"

His fingers tap against the desk and they draw your attention as his eyes narrow in on you, "This has nothing to do with-" He pauses, letting out a steady breath of air and you lift your gaze back to his. Rather than being irritated or annoyed, as you expect, your surprised to find that he looks super uncomfortable, maybe even anxious, "our relationship outside of this room. And might I remind you that this test is half this semester's grade. You'll only fail again without proper help." You grit your teeth, holding back your protests. You hate to admit this, but he's right - again. "Starting next week come here after you've finished all your classes. I will be in the office grading papers. And-" He slides something across the desk to you, "your laptop, you left it."

You grab your laptop quickly before turning to leave, all the while not uttering another word to Yoongi.

The bathroom mirror is fogged over completely - except for a small spot that you've whipped at in order to dab foundation onto your neck, thoroughly painting over the purple and yellow discoloration on your skin. You juggle with your phone in your other hand, holding it to your ear, "I just- hear me out?"

"Why should I? I don't like her, so the answer is no. End of conversation."

"Please? I don't want to go alone."

"Why not? It's not like it's going to be a fun party. Doubt there will even be alcohol."

"You-"

"Get out of here already!"

"Shit," You begin shoving your makeup back into your bag, fumbling with your phone in the process.

"Listen, I know you've been having a hard time lately but there's no way in hell I'm-"

"Fine! Don't go! It's not like I need you there or anything!" You slam the bathroom door shut behide you, sure to piss off your roommate, who is washing shampoo from her hair.

"Don't be like that, ____. You know she wouldn't even want me-" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. After all the things Jimin has put you through, he can't even do you the smallest of favors. You stomp over to your dorm room door, storming out into the hallway, and down the stairs. You shove the glass door to your complex open, letting the cold wind blow tangles into your freshly brushed hair as you stride toward the Lift driver that's been waiting for you at the curb for the past thirty minutes. Under normal circumstances, you'd apologize to the driver for making them wait, but as you've established, time and time again, these are not normal circumstances. As you buckle your seat belt the driver takes off, drifting at about thirty on the speedometer.

A heavy sigh falls off your lips and you lean your head against the window as the first ticks of rain make contact with the transparent glass. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at it. You half expected it to be a text from Jimin, although the notification is from an unknown number.

Message from Unknown Number-8:32pm: Let me make up for lost time. Please, answer your phone.

You begin typing only to be cut off by another buzz.

Message from Unknown Number-8:33pm: Don't try telling me I've got the wrong number. Jimin gave it to me.

You scowl down at the small screen before abruptly turning off your phone. You curse Jimin as you shove the phone into your bag.

"Thought you said you weren't going to come."

He fiddles with the ends of his hair, all the while avoiding your gaze, "Well, Jungkook agreed to come along so-"

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Sighing, Jimin leans against his younger friend, but Jungkook's attention seems to lie elsewhere as he completely ignores the two of you, "You know how I feel about Mina."

"Yeah," You turn to see what's got Jungkook so preoccupied, "and you know how I feel about parties." Across the room you spot Mina and Yoongi. The two are conversing rather aggressively and you inhale sharply, barely managing to remind yourself that it's normal for Mina to blow things out of proportion and it's probably nothing. You don't need to worry. You force your attention back to Jimin.

"I have no idea how you feel about anything nowadays. You're-"

"I swear I'm never doing anything for that she-devil again."

You turn to see a rather annoyed Seokjin now standing behind Jungkook, with a large birthday cake in hand. 

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head, "What are you doing here?"

He looks away from Jungkook, who is now laughing at his elder's misfortune, "I was conned."

"Ah," You nod and point at the cake, "she made you bake that?"

Jimin shakes his head, "What a shame you let her walk all over you."

"Yeah," Seokjin rolls his eyes before glaring over in Mina's direction, "it's too quiet in here. I'm going to start some music."

You watch Seokjin make his way over to a speaker and then leave for the kitchen. The smell of birthday cake tickles your nose now as the sound of soft pop music lulls the small crowd of people in the apartment space.

"God, this is boring."

"Beyond boring."

Those two seem to be unable to keep their moping to themselves since you arrived, although you haven't paid them all that much attention. You're more concerned with how you're going to avoid eating cake later on. You hate overly sweet things with a passion and Mina's cake is sure to taste like a sugar rush.

"We should liven it up a bit."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"How about it ____?" You drag your gaze away from a frowning Mina to glance over at Jimin, who's holding a plate full of crumbs that were previously covered in chips. Jungkook stands next to him, bordly munching on some handmade snack you couldn't remember the name of. The two of them refused to stay anywhere that wasn't right beside the snack table. You guessed since there wasn't any alcohol, they were making do with what's available.

"Can you two behave until the candles are blown out? I don't wanna hear Mina yelling until I've already told her my excuse to leave."

Jungkook nods, "Understandable,"

"I suppose I'll wait."

You just want to go home and get some more sleep, you couldn't care less what these two goons had up their sleeves. Yes, you want Mina to have a good birthday, but you can only maintain your act for so long while around her. Faking isn't your strong suit.

"Oh, God,"

"Wha-Oh,"

You glance back over at the two of them to see that they're staring across the room. Jimin is frowning, while Jungkook looks as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes. You turn to see what it is, only to find yourself wishing you never did.

"____! There you are! You sly fox, you. I've been looking for you everywhere."

Your stomach drops, "Who told him?"

Jimin scowls as his friend makes his way over to you, "It definitely wasn't me."

"Sorry, ____. He promised me he wouldn't come if I told him." Jungkook scoots away from you out of fear of your wrath.

The guy approaching you is quick to move to your side, placing an arm around your waist. You're sure to send Jungkook the deadliest of glares that has him cowering behind a now, rather aggravated Jimin.

"Tae, what are you doing here?" You almost choke as you force a smile onto your face.

He pulls you closer to him, a smirk playing on his lips, "I heard from a little birdy that you'd be here." 

As a strong urge to knee Jungkook in the crouch starts to settle in, you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to bear it and not cause a scene.

"Yah, Taehyung, who do you think you are, clinging to my best friend like that?" Jimin's brows have shot up in question as he stares Taehyung down with accusing eyes.

His arm doesn't leave you, though you can feel him stiffen under Jimin's intimidating gaze, "I-"

"If you want your dick sucked find some other girl to do it."

Taehyung frowns, "Jimin, I'm not-"

"Taehyung, " You pat his shoulder, gaining the attention of all three boys' in the process, "how about you go get me a drink from the kitchen?"

He looks back and forth between you and Jimin, slightly suspicious before nodding, and heading off.

Jimin scoffs, "The nerve of him."

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Tell him I went to the restroom or something. Also, try to keep from fighting. Like I said earlier-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want to ruin Mina's birthday party. Blah, blah, blah."

"Jimin," You glare, "I'm serious."

"Alright, " He groans, rolling his eyes, "I'll stop. Just go before that horny baboon gets back and tries humping your leg."

You roll your eyes but nod never the less. Jungkook whispers another sorry to you as you walk past them towards the apartment door. You only wave him off, not caring enough to bother with his inability to keep a secret. You're too tired and honestly just wish you could go home. You mean, you could go home with the excuse of, "I started feeling sick." Which wouldn't be a complete lie - thanks to Taehyung. You know Mina wouldn't fall for it though.

Luckily, her apartment is on the bottom floor and it doesn't take you long to make your way outside. The warmth from the building's heater almost seems to melt off your skin in the chilled air. It's only around dinner time, but you suspect the sun has begun to set behind the rain clouds, due to the darkness that has started settling over the city. Your steps are small as you watch your breath puff out into a cold cloud passed your chapped lips. Fiddling with the sucker that still rests in your pocket, you shut your eyes and listen to the downpour that assaults the sidewalk. You hadn't planned on being so weak, so vulnerable. After all these years you'd hoped that maybe you would've grown stronger by now - but you feel weaker than ever.

An exaggerated sigh startles you and your eyes snap open. 

His back is to you as rain showers down onto the awning above, black shoes resting in a puddle on the curb of the street as he stares at cars zipping by. You've never noticed before, but the rainy weather compliments his skin. You find your eyes lingering on the pads of his fingers and the blue veins below red knuckles - a perfect contrast of colors. Really, you know better than to approach him. You know better than to go anywhere near him - but, knowing better doesn't stop you from making your way over to him with a misplaced sense of determination as he reaches into his pocket, nor does it keep you from plopping down next to him as he places the retrieved object between his velvety lips.

He pauses his actions to glance over at you curiously. You frown at him before reaching up and plucking the purple lighter from his left hand, "What are you-"

You shove the lighter into your pocket, exchanging it with your sucker. You know you'll never eat it, might as well put it to good use. You hold it out to him, "You should replace bad habits with healthy habits."

He turns away with a scoff, nibbling on his lower lip - an obvious attempt to keep himself from smiling, "That isn't particularly healthy."

You glance at the sucker, "No, but it's better than what you had before." Nudging the candy into his now empty hand you purse your lips.

Reluctantly, he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and slides it back into its pack, "So, you're talking to me again?"

"No," You stare at him as his long fingers unwrap the yellow sucker and plop it into his mouth.

"Then what do you call this?"

You look away, opting to stare at the wet asphalt and listen to the constant pitter-patter of the rain, "Why were you and Mina fighting?"

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment before he sighs and rolls the stick of the sucker along his tongue, "She wants me here while I need to be elsewhere."

"It's her birthday party."

"Yeah," He snaps, eye sharpening as they flicker over to you, "I told her a month before she planned it what days I'd have work. She did this on purpose."

"Why would she-"

"Because she thinks I'm cheating on her with my coworker." The words are spat bitterly, the sound of the sucker cracking between the tension of his teeth. Your lips clamp shut and you look away from him. Why are you getting involved? You're only making things messier for yourself. "She's not all that wrong, though. I guess I deserve this."

Your head whips back over, "W-what? Are you cheating with a coworker?"

He turns to look at you, brows furrowed, "What? No, I-" He pauses then shakes his head, deciding against it and laughs, "Why are you here ____?"

You glance around, "I-Uh-Mina said I had to come and I-"

His head tips forward, dark hair falling over his lashes, "No, why are you here, with me."

"Oh," You watch the rain as it begins to slow, "I'm not sure."

"Thought you hated me."

"I should." You grit your teeth in annoyance.

"But you don't." Rather than it being a question, it's more of a statement, as if he already knows exactly how you feel.

You don't say a word, you just blink over at his side profile, heart thudding against your ribcage.

He sighs, turning to look at you, "You and I, I know it isn't good. I know I should stay away from you and you do the same to me...but," His dark eyes trace your features, as if trying to memorize them, "I don't think-"

"Jimin! You asshole! Get out! You were never invited for this exact reason!" 

You both turn to see Jimin stumbling out of the apartment complex, Mina hot on his heels, "It's not my fault your party was boring!"

Shit.

"Shut up!" She lands a solid slap that echoes off the back of Jimin's neck and through the rainy streets.

"Fuck! Jungkook! Do something she's touched me! I'm infected!"

Jungkook isn't far behind the pair, seeing as a second later he's the next person to rush out onto the sidewalk. Mina shoves Jimin's chest and he barks with laughter as he stumbles back, "Are you a child?!"

"Sure, if that's what you want me to be."

"Jimin, come on, stop. ____ said to-"

"____ said what?! Is she the one who brought you?!"

Shit.

"What? No, I-"

Next to burst through the door is Taehyung, who is quick to step in between Mina and Jimin, "Really sorry about all this Mina. I'll escort Jimin home."

"You?!" Jimin laughs dryly, "Why? So you can have another go at ____?"

Taehyung's brows crease as he opens his mouth to speak, but when he glances over to see you sitting on the curb he shifts gears, "____! There you are!"

Fuck.

All of their heads turn to you, Jimin raising an eyebrow, Jungkook looking confused, and Mina narrowing her eyes at you as she assesses the fact that her boyfriend is sitting next to you.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" You can tell that her question is directed at Yoongi, only by the small shift of her eyes. Yoongi simply shakes his head and turns away to watch the cars again. 

Somewhere in all the commotion, Taehyung had made his way over to you, seeing as when he plops down next to you and snakes an arm around your waist you flinch, "Is this where you've been hiding?"

"For the love of God, Taehyung, if you don't-"

Jimin is cut off when Yoongi stands up, pulling you with him by the wrist, and glaring at Taehyung in such a way that he freezes on the curb - hands kept to himself. You fidget at the feeling of Yoongi's cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding your breath.  The group turns dead silent before you eventually pull away from Yoongi, taking your wrist back, "Taehyung, please take Jimin home."

"What?!" Jimin squawks at you, "You said you needed me-"

"And I should've just asked Jungkook instead." You're quick to cut Jimin off, glaring at him as if he'd just stepped on your toe.

"I can't believe this. I literally-"

"Aw, poor Park. First time getting dumped on a sidewalk?"

"Shut up!" The snarl takes all of you by surprise, even Mina takes a step back, mouth clamping shut.

"Jimin,"

Jimin's eyes shift back to you, flickering over to Taehyung, then Yoongi before settling back on you, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

"What's going on with me?" You scoff, "You're joking, right?"

"Well, other than the usual shit show you have going on." His words are harsh and they catch all of you off guard for a second time. Jimin tends to be blunt when he needs to be, yes, but never harsh, "I'm fed up, ____. You won't talk to me. You're just bottling it all up. You can't expect anything the change if you-"

"You're the one who gave Hoseok my number!"

.

.

.

a/n: sorry it took me so long to post and that this is kinda filler🙇‍♀️ but it's the start of some character development and the conflict is raising so it's about get crazy real soon👀😳

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch @jeonchan26  @loveyoongles @ghoularaki @team-wang-puppy

To be tagged send an ask 🍬🚬

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Onsra-Chapter 31: Broken Like Me

banner created by: @envity ♥️

pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader (also tae x ga-in oc & jimin x yuri oc)

genre: romance, drama, horror, angst

warnings for this chapter: language, mentions of blood, mentions of past attempted rape, PTSD, panic attacks, and fluffity fluff cuz I'm a weak ass bITch

trigger warning

word count: 8.8k

Onsra: ML, Previous

idek have anything smart to say so let's just get into it :')

____________________________________

You’re staring at him in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Y-you what?”

“You heard me, I said I love you.”

You blink a few times, trying to process what the heck is going on right now. He must be joking, right? He can’t possibly be serious.

“Seungwook-…I-“

“Please, y/n.” He looks at you desperately. “I’ve been looking for you for so long. Ever since that night they took you, I haven’t stopped.”

You don’t say anything, your mind is in a blur of confusion and anxiety. If what he says is true, you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, but you don’t see him like that. There’s a pit in your stomach as you try to figure out what to do now. Seungwook takes a step closer to you, “I’ll explain everything. Please just give me minute to talk.”

You nod wordlessly and sit down on a rock. Seungwook sighs and starts to speak. “A friend of mine told me about them…the vampires. The day you saw my journal over my shoulder I knew you were in trouble.” You swallow thickly but let him continue. “My friend was teaching me how to hunt them and how to tell them apart as they were hiding among us. I knew there were some in our school and they knew I was a vampire hunter. That’s why I got so scared when I realized you saw my journal.”

It all starts clicking into place as he finishes. “They steered clear of me for the most part, but they must have seen you being curious, so they targeted you next. That night I was trying to get you and Ga-In out, but they got you before I could. All I really remember was you being dragged into the dark and then Ga-In and I were jumped. She was gone in a minute and they left me unconscious on the ground. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me.”

You nod slowly. “I was afraid they’d killed you when I woke up and you weren’t there.” You say, remembering everything. “I don’t recall what happened after being kidnapped and before waking up. But Seungwook, you don’t understand, the vampire I was with saved me from them.”

He scoffs and you sigh in annoyance, “I’m being serious! They saved Ga-In and I and another girl, we found out later that they aren’t even real vampires. They were humans that were bitten and turned, but they didn’t have them long enough to lose themselves completely. They hate vampires as much as you do.” You look at him pleadingly and his eyes narrow.

“That’s a good story. I don’t blame you for believing them.”

“It’s true!”

“Even if it is true, they’re still monsters! They drink human blood, they have to!”

“They don’t though!” You’re panicking now. “They only drink animal blood. Please Seungwook, you have to believe me.”

Seungwook looks away from your face, his jaw clenching. “You care about him, don’t you?” He whispers angrily. You hesitate for a moment, afraid of what he’ll say if you admit it.

“Yeah, I do. He isn’t a monster, Seungw-”

“You love him.”

After he just confessed to you, you would’ve thought there would be some trace of sadness in his voice, but all there is, is anger and disgust.

“I do love him.” You say confidently, hoping Seungwook will at least try and understand. “And I care about you too, you’re my friend. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He chuckles darkly at that, but you continue. “Please, just understand that they aren’t the ones you want to kill, please don’t hurt them.”

Seungwook looks at you, his expression unreadable. “They have plans to turn you, and more. Don’t go while believing I didn’t warn you. And don’t come to me for help when he betrays you.”

With that he turns to walk back into the trees. You stand up, but don’t follow him, “Seungwook, wait-“ He just ignores you and disappears into the shadows. Your stomach is turning with anxiety as you hold your flashlight tightly in your fist.

He doesn’t understand.

You’re so scared that he might tell his other men and now since he knows where you’re all at, he’ll lead them right to the front door. You look back at the house, then turn out your flashlight and mentally curse. You glance back towards the house once more before taking a breath and walking into the woods where Seungwook just went.

After a few minutes, you hear him walking and relief floods through you that you found him again. He’s stomping through the woods angrily, so he isn’t too hard to follow. After a few minutes he stops abruptly, and you hide yourself behind a tree. You peek out and see two more figures walking towards him.

“Had a bad day, Wook?” One of them says, the other stays silent. Seungwook growls and flips his hair with his hand, “Shut up. Did you find it?”

“Yeah, we did. It’s about six miles from here.”

What is?

What’s six miles from here?

You feel your heart pounding as you try to listen to what they’re saying.

“Good, let’s go.”

“Now?”

“I want to check it out before we do anything.”

Your plan was to find out where Seungwook was staying, then you could warn the boys and come up with a safety plan. You don’t think there are any other safe houses to go to, but you’re sure you can all figure something out. Now, it seems like they aren’t going back to their place anyway, but a nagging feeling in your belly tells you to keep following him.

But, six miles?

The three of them start walking away, so you wait until they’re far enough ahead, but you can still see them from the light of the moon before you sneak after them.

This is a terrible idea.

“What were you doing anyway?” One of the others speaks up.

“Nothing, stop asking.” Seungwook grumbles.

You keep following them for another hour. By now you’re exhausted from trying to be quiet and not trip on the rocks and shrubbery while you walk. But they keep going, barely talking, as they walk without even stopping to catch a breath.

Another hour passes and you’re trying your best not to collapse. You know six miles isn’t much for some people, but for you, it has you in stitches. It’s also the middle of the night and you were already tired before deciding to stupidly follow them.

You suddenly remember promising Seokjin not to run out again and you feel a horrible pit in your stomach.

I broke my promise.

You feel tears pricking your eyes from how tired and scared you are, and the guilt of not letting Seokjin know is eating away at you. But by now, you’re already so far from the house you might as well keep following them. I’m sorry, Jin. Suddenly, you hear them come to a stop, so you hide yourself behind a tree.

Finally.

You peek out and see a building through some trees with a few lights on inside.

Seungwook cocks his head to the side, “It isn’t very big.”

“It’s not. But there are a lot of them inside.”

Seungwook sighs, “How many?”

“I’d say at least fifty.”

Fifty?

Fifty??

Suddenly, this whole idea smacks you in the face as by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. You’re guessing there are vampires in there. And apparently, there’s at least fifty of them.

Y/n, you are so stupid.

Then, the door bangs open to the building and the three Hunters quickly hide in the bushes. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you press your back to the tree after hiding yourself again.

A few vampires step out and one chuckles, “I’m so hungry I think I’m smelling things.”

The others laugh darkly, and they take off into the woods, thankfully not close to where you’re hiding. When you look out again, you watch in horror as Seungwook and the other two Hunters run noiselessly into the dark.

Leaving you all alone.

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

You never gave much thought to the fact that you would have to be finding your way back home.

How stupid can you be, y/n? Apparently pretty fucking stupid.

You feel sick to your stomach as you try to rack your brain to remember the way you came. You know it wasn’t just a straight line. You suck at directions, this is bad. This is very bad.

Tears spring to your eyes, you wipe them away and turn to start back the way you feel like you came from, that really being your only choice now.

I’m so stupid, I’m so stupid I hate myself.

You think miserably as you trudge through the woods and fight the temptation to turn your flashlight on. It seemed like a dandy idea to keep everyone safe when you first thought of it, and now you’d pay anyone to beat some sense into your thick skull.

You’ve lost all sense of time and direction about half an hour into the walk back. You’re mentally scolding yourself as you try to keep the tears to a minimal torrent, when you hear something snap. Your body freezes and you breathe so slowly and quietly that it doesn’t feel like you’re breathing at all.

“Oh sweetie, you make this too easy.” A sultry voice comes from your left and you turn your flashlight on to shine it at the disembodied voice, panic surging through you when you see the tall man’s pale skin and red eyes, his black hair tousled.

Please, please, please, no.

Please, no.

You hear something to your right, then another vampire steps into the light, a crazed look in his eyes as he sizes you up, his bleach blonde hair catches the light of your flashlight. A third one comes up from behind you and puts his hand on your waist. You scream and jump, turning to see him smirking. He’s stockier than the others but still at least a good head taller than you. You back up until your flush against a tree, they advance with each of your backward steps, then you’re feeling the rough bark of the tree scratching your exposed skin.

“Fuck, you look tasty. I can’t believe the luck.”

“What should we do? Share her?”

“No.” The first vampire growls. “I don’t like to share what’s mine.”

“How is she yours, you fuck? I found her first.”

“No, I did!”

You watch all three of them bickering over who gets to drink your blood as you try not to cry. The first vampire looks at you and chuckles at your failed attempt to hide your tears.

“Crying, sweetie? Don’t worry, it won’t hurt.”

You’ve done it now. There’s no way you’re getting out of this one.

“Looks like the cat’s got her tongue.” The brown haired stocky one laughs.

“What are you doing out in the woods all alone, and not far from our place, girlie?” The blonde muses as he takes another step. “It’s almost like you’re begging for us to take you.”

The first vampire laughs, “I think she is. Why not have some fun while we’re at it?” He turns to you, “Ever play tag, sweetheart?”

Your blood is rushing in your ears as you clutch your light, willing your hands to stop shaking.

“Here are the rules.” He continues nonchalantly, “Whoever catches her first, gets her.”

The other two’s smirks widen and the stocky one rubs his hands together. “Fuck yeah.” He looks at you like he’d devour you right then and there if the others weren’t there.

“You heard the game, sweetie. Now play it.” The first vampire watches you carefully. “I’ll let you get a twenty second head start.”

He steps forward, then seems to change his mind. “I’ll make you a deal…you escape, then you can live.” The others chuckle darkly. and he looks at you with an amused half smile.

He wants you to run?

He wants you to run so he can have his fun before he drinks your blood?

This is the worst thing that could’ve happened, and you hate yourself more than you ever have before.

“Five…”

Maybe you should just stay still and let them kill you, they will eventually anyway.

“Four…three…”

Fuck.

“Two…one…run, sweetheart.”

Your legs take off before you can even tell them to wait, running faster than they ever have.

One, two, three, four…

Come on, y/n.

Seven, eight, nine, ten…

Your lungs are already starting to burn but you don’t stop. Then you remember the flashlight in your hand, its beam flying around and making you obvious.

You chuck it over your shoulder and pump your legs faster.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…

Your legs are screaming at you to stop, but your mind screams louder for you to go go go.

Maybe you’ll have a chance.

Twenty…

Then Jungkook’s words suddenly cram their way into your frazzled mind.

Hide, if you run, they’ll catch you.

You need to hide. The twenty seconds are up and they’re already coming. You need to hide, now.

You dive into a random bush and grab the branches to make them stop shaking, then you clamp your hand over your mouth. Not a few seconds later, you hear something.

But it isn’t footsteps.

It’s breathing.

Ragged, hoarse, and breathy.

The sound makes chills go down your spine, as it is only a few feet away from you. If you had thought to hide a few seconds later, he’d have caught you for sure.

You close your eyes and pray silently that your luck stays.

You honestly can’t believe you made it this far.

Maybe you’ll make it after all.

“I’m going to find you, and you’re going to be fucking delicious.” The way the last word rolls off the vampire’s tongue makes your stomach turn. You just stay as still as you possibly can, then the breathing fades away and you let yourself breathe quietly.

When you don’t hear anything for a good ten minutes, you lay your head down on the cold dirt and curl your legs up. You’re not going anywhere for a while.

~               ~                 ~

Jungkook walks into the kitchen the next morning, still sour after waking up and not finding you next to him for the second time. His brows furrow when he doesn’t immediately see you sitting at the table, stuffing your face and giggling with Seokjin.

The eldest looks up, “Morning, Kook.”

“Where’s y/n?” Jungkook asks, brushing off the elder’s greeting. Ga-In clears her throat, “She uh, she went to your room last night. Didn’t she stay with you?”

Jungkook ignores the looks of surprise from everyone at the table as the sounds of chewing stop at Ga-In’s words. He shakes his head, worry already seeping into his mind. “She wasn’t there when I woke up, I thought she had gone back in with you.”

“Maybe she’s in the restroom?” Hoseok suggests, but Jungkook immediately shakes his head again, “She isn’t.”

Jin sets his fork down, “Ok, so she isn’t sleeping in and she isn’t in the restroom. No need to panic, maybe she went out for a walk.”

Everyone nods, but Jungkook can tell that Yuri and Ga-In are thinking differently. He just turns and heads out of the kitchen, making his way to the front door and hurrying out.

“Y/n? Y/n!” He shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth to make himself louder. When he hears nothing but the chirping of birds, his stomach drops to his feet. The grass is covered in a thin layer of glistening drops from it having rained last night.

“Fuck.”

“Where would she have gone?” Jungkook turns to see Ga-In and Yuri behind him, worry clear on their faces. “I don’t know.” He mutters. “But I’m going to find her. Tell Seokjin hyung I’m leaving.”

“No need.” Jungkook sees the eldest step out of the door, his brows creased in worry. “I’m coming with you.”

“Me too.” Taehyung speaks up, the others crowding out from behind him. Ga-In looks like she’s about to say she’s coming, but Tae pecks her on the mouth quickly and shakes his head. She frowns, “She’s my best friend.”

Jin puts a hand on her shoulder, “And that’s why you girls need to stay. If she comes back, someone needs to be here. If it’s dangerous, she wouldn’t be too happy about her loved ones joining in.”

Jungkook puts his hood up and walks down the steps, not wanting to waste any time. He heads for the forest, deciding to start at the clearing.

Jin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi all follow him. Jimin and Namjoon agree to stay with the girls just in case anything should happen.

“Should we split up or stay together?” Hoseok speaks up as they reach the clearing and find no sign of you.

“Splitting up makes me nervous, but we’ll cover more ground if we do. We should at least go in pairs, though.” Jin sighs, not happy about splitting but more anxious about your safety. Yoongi nods, “Ok, you, Jungkook, and Tae go one way. Hoseok and I will go another.”

Seokjin nods, then he hurries after Jungkook and Taehyung who have already walked off. He catches up to Tae and whispers, “Why are we going this way?” The boy shrugs in response, “Jungkook just said he had a feeling, and it isn’t like we have a lot of options.”

Jin just stays quiet as they follow Jungkook, keeping their eyes open for any sign that you’re around. Jungkook keeps a straight face, glancing side to side as he walks, he looks completely composed.

But on the inside, he’s panicking. He can’t imagine what could’ve happened to you to make you walk off in the dead of night. It’s taking all of his strength not to break down and have a full-blown panic attack. He keeps repeating comforting thoughts in his head, telling himself you just went for a walk and didn’t hear him call, and you would go home and he’d find you safe and sound when he got back.

But a horrible feeling in his stomach is telling him that he’s very wrong.

“Tae.” He suddenly snaps and the pretty blonde jogs over to walk next to him, “Yeah?” Jungkook clenches his fists, “You haven’t seen any signs of her?”

Tae shakes his head reluctantly, “No, nothing.”

Seokjin catches up to them, “She’ll be alright, Jungkook.”

Jungkook fumes at that at first, but then he feels a little spark of comfort in his chest and he silently thanks his oldest brother for trying his best to keep him calm. But he won’t be calm until he knows you’re safe and you’re in his arms.

After a good hour of walking, Taehyung stops the little group as he walks over to a random spot on the ground. He bends down and gently touches a few broken twigs. “Someone was here, I don’t know if it was her though.”

“How can you tell?” Seokjin asks curiously and Tae stands up, dusting his hands off. “The way the sticks are broken is unnatural. Someone had to have stepped on them and broken them to make them look like that. But I still can’t say who it was or when it happened, it could’ve been days ago.”

Jungkook stares at the little sticks, his chest aching as tears form in his eyes. He wipes them away quickly. “Can you tell which way they went?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

Tae crouches again and moves along the ground slowly. “Yeah, I think I can.” A new lift is in his voice. Then he starts off, the other two boys following close behind.

Another hour passes and Jungkook is restless, the other boys trying to calm him down. “She’s hurt, I know she is.” His breaths come in short puffs as he digs his hands in his hair.

“Kook, just take deep breaths. You need to calm down if we’re going to find her.” Seokjin says firmly but gently. Jungkook nods and swallows thickly, then he squints at something a few feet away. He hurries over to it and grabs it.

“It’s one of our flashlights.” He huffs out a breath of relief as he turns the wet flashlight around and switches it off, wondering why it was on. “We’re going the right way.” Then his mind takes a different turn.

“W-why would it be on? And why would she have dropped it?” Panic settles into his mind again and he’s about to say something when someone comes out from the bushes. All three of them turn and see you stumbling out, your hair is in knots and your face covered in dirt. You’re completely soaked as you wipe at your eyes.

When you look up and see them, you flinch, prepared to turn and run as fast as you can in the other direction. But Jungkook’s voice makes you stop.

“Y/n?” His voice is shaking, and he drops the flashlight on the ground before running over to you. You’re engulfed into his arms as Jungkook holds you so close, you’re wondering if you’ll just mash into one body in a second.

“Fuck, y/n. I thought I’d lost you. Fuck, I was so scared.” Jungkook’s voice breaks as he starts to cry. The other two boys just watch, not sure what to do, the relief from finding you letting them take a breath.

You don’t say anything, just keep letting him hold you. Once he can process the fact that you’re real and in his arms, he pulls away just enough to see your face. “You scared me so bad. Fuck. I really thought you were gone forever.” When you don’t reply, Jungkook frowns and touches your face. You flinch a little and his stomach turns. That’s when he realizes you aren’t hugging him back.

“What’s the matter?”

You don’t say anything.

Jungkook tries to cup your face but you flinch away again. Then you seem to realize that you flinched, and your cheeks turn pink.

Taehyung steps forward cautiously, “Y/n? Are you okay?” You just look at him blankly and he feels his heart drop. You don’t meet any of their eyes.

Seokjin comes over, walking slowly. “Something happened. Don’t touch her, Kook. Maybe you should step back for a second.” Jungkook looks back at the eldest, fear and confusion swarming his thoughts. Jungkook steps away from you a little to give you some space, but his mind screams at him to hold you close and never let you go again.

“Ok, y/n.” Jin speaks slowly and clearly. “You’re alright. Everything is okay now, yeah?” Jungkook watches you slightly fold in on yourself, his chest aching. It looks like Seokjin realizes something and he takes Jungkook’s arm, pulling him away from you and stepping back himself.

“Tae.” He says gently. “Go to her and let her know she’s alright. But don’t touch her.”

Jungkook looks at him in confusion, not understanding why he won’t let him go to you. He’s the one you trust the most…right?

Tae makes his way to you carefully, then he catches your gaze and smiles softly. “Hey y/n, it’s Tae. Everything is okay now, we’re going to take you home.”

“Home?” Your voice comes out so quietly that they can barely hear you.

“Yes, Ga-In and Yuri and everyone else are waiting for you. You’re gonna go home and eat some good food and get some sleep. That sounds good, right?” Tae says gently.

“Ga-In?” You whisper and he nods encouragingly.

“So, come on now. We’re going to head back.”

You glance over at the two vampires watching you and Tae sees you stiffen. “Hey, look at me y/n. Just me.”

Jungkook’s chest is aching so bad he feels like he can’t breathe. You’re acting like you don’t even know who he is. What happened to you?

You look back at Tae warily, and he reaches out a hand. You stare at it for a second, then you take it. “Can you walk, y/n?” Tae asks and you shrug. “Would you like me to give you a piggyback ride?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. Jungkook watches you breathlessly as he sees your bruised and cut up legs through your ripped sweatpants when you walk closer to Taehyung. The boy crouches enough for you to get on his back, then he helps you wrap your legs around his waist.

Seokjin touches Jungkook’s shoulder gently and whispers in his ear, “I don’t know what happened, but she’s scared of us because we’re vampires. It’s a good thing Tae came with us.” Jungkook nods numbly, the worst thoughts popping into his head as he watches Tae start walking home with you on his back, clinging to him.

He tries not to look at you as you all make your way back, but he can’t help it. You look so small and helpless as you stare straight ahead, bouncing slightly on Tae’s back. A memory of him carrying you out of the forest when you hurt your ankle pushes into his mind and he swallows the lump in his throat before looking away.

An hour into the walk, Jungkook sees you glancing over at him. He just smiles at you softly and looks back ahead, willing himself not to cry. “Hold up.” Taehyung suddenly announces as you start trying to get off his back. He helps you down and you walk over to Jungkook, moving yourself closer until you’re practically squished into his side. Jungkook freezes, wanting to wrap his arms around you but not knowing if you’re okay with that. He looks at Seokjin for help, who nods and sends him a small smile.

Jungkook gently puts his arms around you. Feeling you shaking slightly makes his chest tighten and his eyes sting. “Hey, baby.” He whispers, starting to gently rub your back. Seokjin walks over to Taehyung and pats him on the back, “Good job, Tae.” He whispers and the boy smiles.

“Can I carry you, love?” he asks gently, and you nod. Seokjin helps you scramble onto Jungkook’s back, chuckling when you look like a baby monkey wrapped around its mother as you cling to him. Then you four set off once again.

You end up running into Yoongi and Hoseok in the clearing as they had just finished circling around. Hoseok smiles brightly and runs up to you four. “Y/n! I’m so glad you’re okay!” He stops jumping up and down though when Tae touches his arm gently. “What is it? Are you okay?” He asks but you just tuck your face back into Jungkook’s shoulder. Yoongi frowns and pulls Seokjin aside.

“What happened?”

Jin sighs, “We don’t know. She wouldn’t even trust anyone but Tae at first, I think it’s because he’s human.” Yoongi’s frown deepens as he watches you tighten your hold on Jungkook, his eyes scanning over your beat-up legs as the wheels turn in his head. Jin looks at him curiously as Yoongi speaks quietly. “Has she spoken?”

“Only like two words. What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Yoongi keeps watching you, a sad look flitting across his face. “I’ll have to wait and see.”

The group makes their way back and you see Ga-In sitting on the porch steps, her chin in her hands. When she sees you all coming out of the woods, her face brightens and she runs as fast as she can towards you.

“Y/n! Thank goodness you’re alive!” She has tears in her eyes as she looks at your legs, “What happened? Why are you hurt?” When you don’t say anything, her heart sinks and she nods for Jungkook to take you back inside.

He carries you on his back up the stairs, walking as carefully as he can to your room. Yuri opens the door for him, and he brings you straight to your bed. He sits on the side of the bed and lets you slide off his back. When he turns to look at you, you’ve already hidden yourself in the covers, nothing but a little bit of the top of your head showing. Jungkook frowns and kisses your head that is sticking out before he stands and walks over to Ga-In who was watching from the doorway. She walks in and ushers Jungkook out before moving to you and ever so gently taking your wet clothes off. She puts your dry giant t-shirt on you and lets you hide under the covers again as she leaves the room.

“What happened?” She whispers, and Jungkook motions for her to follow him. It physically pains him to leave you, but he doesn’t want you to be overwhelmed. Ga-In closes the door softly and they make their way downstairs to discuss everything that took place.

~                     ~                        ~

You stare blankly at the wall, the covers up to your chin. You blink a few times, numbness overriding your senses. You’re so exhausted that you just want to sleep. Sleep it all away. But when you close your eyes, all the images crowd into your mind and make you open your eyes again only if to make them disappear.

You start to shake uncontrollably, but no tears come. Just a white blank panic clouding your vision as the images start to appear in front of your face even with your eyes open. You can feel yourself wanting to cry but it won’t come.

Nothing will come.

No one will come.

You’re alone.

You’re alone and it’s going to happen again.

You’re silently screaming for help, but no one can hear you.

~                     ~                      ~

“We need to know what happened.” Yuri says desperately, wanting more than anything to figure out how to help you.

“Yes, but we can’t ask her right now.” Jin has his head in his hands as he sighs.

“Then what do we do?”

That question is met with silence. Jungkook is sitting on one side of the couch, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tries to breathe steadily and control his urge to go back to you.

“We need to wait for her to tell us herself.” Yoongi speaks up. Ever since he saw you, it seems like he’s been thinking about something, but he won’t say what it is when the others ask.

“What if we-“

Jimin’s suggestion gets cut off abruptly when a piercing scream from upstairs rings in all their ears. Jungkook is on his feet and racing towards the stairs in a split second, Ga-In hot on his heels. He runs up the stairs two at a time and down the hallway. You keep screaming and screaming, making it sound like someone is torturing you. Jungkook opens your door and runs over to where you’re curled up in a ball on the giant bed. Your eyes are pinched shut and tears are streaming down your face as you cover your ears and scream bloody murder.

Jungkook doesn’t try to say anything, he just climbs on the bed and wraps his arms around you. At first you flail around and try to get out of his grasp as you sob, but when you open your eyes and see who’s hugging you, you clutch onto him and sob louder.

“Jungkook, make it stop!” You scream and bury your face in his chest.

Jungkook feels the tears streaming down his face but he pays them no mind, he just holds you and rocks you back and forth, “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He keeps repeating it even though you’re plugging your ears and can’t hear him.

Ga-In watches helplessly from the door, wringing her hands and not knowing what to do. Jungkook turns and looks at her, then motions for her to come to you. She hurries over and climbs onto the bed, scooting close to you and wrapping her arms around you so you’re encased in the arms of the two people you love most in the world.

The others are crowded around the door, not making a move to go inside, but having come up to make sure you were okay. Seokjin sees Yoongi’s expression and touches his shoulder. “What is it?” Yoongi sees you starting to calm down as Jungkook and Ga-In both whisper softly to you.

“I don’t know what caused it, but it’s what I was thinking. She’s having PTSD.”

Jin looks back at you, wondering what the hell happened last night to trigger this.

~                  ~                  ~

The others have made their way downstairs again, knowing there really isn’t anything that they can do.

Only Ga-In and Jungkook stay in your room, stroking your back as Jungkook holds you and taking turns whispering calming things to you. When you’ve calmed down enough, now just sniffling every once in a while, Ga-In says she’s going to go and get some food for you to eat so you’ll feel better.

Once she leaves, Jungkook pulls back enough to kiss your sweaty forehead, then he puts his chin on your head and keeps rocking you gently.

“You’re okay, little flower. I’ve got you. Nothing is going to happen to you anymore baby.” His soft voice soothes your nerves and he smiles when he hears you yawning.

“Sleepy, love?” He asks as he pulls back again, moving your sticky hair out of your face. You nod, your eyes half closed. “Do you want to get some sleep?”

You immediately shake your head and put your face back into his chest. Jungkook smiles sadly, “I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry, y/n.” You nod and he continues to rock you gently.

Ga-In comes in with a sandwich and they manage to get you to eat almost half of it. Then Jungkook lays you down and lies next to you, letting you wrap yourself around him sleepily.

You don’t want to fall asleep.

You know the nightmares will come back the second you do, and you can’t handle it. Not another second of it.

But eventually, you’re so tired that you feel yourself slipping out of consciousness. You grip Jungkook’s hand anxiously and he kisses your forehead, murmuring softly. “You can sleep, love. I’m right here. I won’t leave you, I promise.”

When you’re finally sleeping soundly, Jungkook lets his tears fall. He holds you close to his chest and wishes with all his might that he could just take away all your fear and pain.

~                  ~                  ~

A few hours later, you peel your eyes open and see Jungkook sleeping next to you, his arms still encircling you protectively. You cuddle closer to him and he sleepily opens his eyes when he feels you moving.

“Bad dreams?” He whispers with his hoarse voice.

You shake your head and he smiles, “Good.”

You two lay there in silence for a minute, then Jungkook speaks up slowly. “I know you’re not feeling well, but is there anything you want to say so I can make it better?”

You look at him for a moment before nodding. “Do you want to tell me?” He asks, but he gets a head shake. “How about Jin hyung?” Another head shake, “Ga-In?” You nod and he sighs with relief. He lets you cuddle him for another few minutes before he calls your best friend. He agrees not to leave you until someone else comes in.

Ga-In opens the door so fast he has a feeling she’s been waiting out there for a while. She walks over and climbs onto the bed as Jungkook gets out of it. She lays next to you and hugs you tightly. Jungkook smiles at the pair of you before making his way out.

“What do you think happened?” Tae asks quietly as they both sit on Jungkook’s bed, waiting to be informed about everything. “I don’t know.” Jungkook says simply, making Tae sigh.

After a good hour, Ga-In opens your door and motions for Jungkook to come to her. When he gets close enough, he sees her eyes are rimmed with red, meaning she cried. She sniffles and clears her throat.

“She’s asleep again, but I don’t think we should leave her alone for long.”

Jungkook nods and invites her to come to his room so they will still be close to where you’re sleeping just in case.

Ga-In sits on his bed and wipes her eyes, Taehyung and Jungkook watching her anxiously. When she finally starts to speak, their horror grows.

“She ran into vampires last night. She said she followed Seungwook somewhere, I couldn’t hear a lot of why she went because she was mumbling. But they ended up at a vampire camp. She said they caught her when she was trying to find the way home. They decided to make the whole thing into a game and made her run so they could chase her and whoever got her could claim her.”

Taehyung releases a very angry but controlled breath through his nose, but Jungkook stays silent as Ga-In continues. “She ended up hiding in a bush and they never found her. But a little later in the night she overheard them saying the things they wanted to do to her. I’m not going to go into any details.” She swallows and pushes on. “She tried to sleep under the bush to wait for morning, that’s when it rained. She was freezing and her body must have gone into shock from the cold and fear. She said that’s when all her memories came back.”

Jungkook looks at her in confusion, “What memories? What do you mean?”

Your best friend wipes her eyes. “The night we were taken. I was separated from her, but I made it out quickly, with a bunch of other girls that ran to hide. Y/n could never remember what happened before she woke up next to Yuri. Last night, it all came back.” She closes her eyes and Tae takes her hand, squeezing it gently.

“They gathered them all into a room, then they started beating them and biting people. She said she remembers pain from someone hitting her and seeing people bleeding and hearing screams. She thought she had been bitten but they only barely scraped her wrist as they were rushing through them all. She didn’t understand anything that was happening.”

Jungkook feels his throat close up, remembering how he had found you right after you’d been through all that, and how he’d treated you. It makes him sick to think about. But Ga-In isn’t even done yet.

“The last thing that came back to her was the night those Hunters kidnapped her. They tied her up and they had her in a chair. When she didn’t give them the answers about everyone else that they wanted, they slapped her.”

Jungkook’s stomach lurches.

“Then they tried to rape her.” Ga-In’s voice shakes and the tears she was trying so hard to control, slip down her cheeks.

Jungkook’s blood boils as he remembers seeing the man kneeling in front of you. He hadn’t known what he was trying to do at the time, he just knew he hurt you. And you never told anyone. You kept it to yourself all this time.

Jungkook stalks out of the room and down the stairs, throwing the front door open and pounding down the porch steps. He doesn’t even flinch at the painful burning sensation when the sun touches his skin. He just marches over to a tree and throws a punch at it, screaming and splintering the bark as his fist makes contact. He punches it again, and again, and again. Until both of his knuckles are shredded and bleeding. Before the skin can start to heal itself, he punches the tree once more. His irises darken and he screams angrily before grabbing his hair and yanking on it.

He wasn’t there to protect you.

He hasn’t done enough to protect you.

And now you’re hurting, because he failed.

“Jungkook, Jungkook hey calm down.” Hoseok comes over to the youngest, having seen him run out of the house. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but he can tell it isn’t good.

“G-get away from me, hyung.”

“Look, Jungkook. I know you’re angry, but why don’t you help me figure out how to help you?” Hoseok tries again, gently.

“You can’t help me! No one can. Not unless you can turn back time so I can stop it all.” Jungkook’s eyes water and he throws another punch at the tree, hating how fast the pain disappears from his hand when the pain inside of him is so much worse.

“Jungkook, tell me what hap-“

“Just get away from me before I do something I’ll regret!!” Jungkook screams angrily and stalks into the woods before Hoseok can even process what just happened.

Jungkook ends up in the clearing under the willow tree. He sits there numbly with the tree against his back after sobbing for at least half an hour straight.

“Kook?” He looks up to see Jimin standing there.

Jungkook just ignores him and looks straight ahead again, his face unreadable.

“Y/n’s awake.”

Jungkook twitches a little at that, but his face remains impassive. Jimin walks over and plops down on the ground next to him, then he leans against the tree.

“It isn’t your fault, Kook.” He says quietly, “You hadn’t even met her when she was first kidnapped by vampires, and you had no idea she left last night.”

So, someone had told him what you said.

“Yeah? And what about when the Hunters took her? What about that?” Jungkook snaps. Jimin sighs and looks at the youngest, seeing his face set in anger but his eyes glistening with tears. “We all went after her that time, and you saved her.”

“I didn’t save her.”

“What?” Jimin looks at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t get there in time for her not to be hurt, to be scarred. Now her own mind is what’s torturing her, because I couldn’t stop it in time.” Jungkook’s voice wavers.

Jimin shakes his head, “You saved her, Jungkook. If you hadn’t been there at that moment, things would’ve been a lot worse. She’s opened up about it now, so it’s off her chest. She doesn’t have to keep it hidden anymore.”

Jungkook listens quietly, the words sinking into his head as Jimin continues. “And she’s asking for you. She loves you Kook, more than I think you believe…so are you going to go to her?” He watches the young vampire closely.

Jungkook nods and wipes his eyes, then he stands up and Jimin smiles. Jungkook starts running back to the house as Jimin stands up, still smiling. “That’s my boy.”

~                 ~                  ~

You’re sitting on your bed trying to stomach some toast that Seokjin brought you, insisting that you needed to eat. All you can do is nibble on it, but Jin nods encouragingly no matter how small the bite.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You whisper quietly, chewing on a little bit of the toast. Jin is about to answer you when Jungkook steps into the room.

“I’m right here, love.” He says as he walks over to the big bed and sits on the side of it, close to you. “Hi.” He says sweetly and you nod at him, feeling comforted when he rubs your legs absentmindedly.

Jin smiles softly and announces that he’s leaving. You quietly thank him for the food, and he winks at you, “Jungkook is going to make sure you finish that. Right, Kook?” The vampire nods, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

Seokjin chuckles and leaves the room to talk to Yoongi about something that’s been bothering him.

Your cheeks turn pink as Jungkook watches you eat. “Why are you staring at me?” Your voice is so quiet he almost doesn’t hear you. He smiles and pats your knee, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. How are you feeling?”

“Better…it kind of feels like I just had a very bad dream.” You say before focusing on your toast. He nods and brings his hand up to pet your head sweetly. “Is this okay?” You nod and he smiles sadly. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up.”

“It’s okay, you’re here now.” He’s about to respond when you speak up again. “I’m sorry that I’m so stupid.” Jungkook’s chest clenches at your words.

“You’re not stupid.”

“I am though.”

“You’re not.”

“I am-“

“Y/n.” His serious tone makes you stop fighting back. “You are not stupid, ok?”

You don’t say anything, you just keep eating your toast slowly. He feels a pang of guilt for raising his voice at you, so he reaches over and runs his thumb along your cheek gently. “I’m sorry, I just don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that. You’re constantly bringing yourself down, and I hate it. I just wish you could see what I see.”

You feel your eyes water and the toast feels stuck in your throat. When you finally swallow, you clear your throat. “There’s nothing good to see. All I do is break my promises to Jinnie, and make you think I don’t love you, and make everyone worry and come look for me when I was stupid and decided to leave without telling anyone. Everything that has happened to me was my fault, and I deserved it.” Jungkook feels his blood boil at your words.

“I don’t even blame the ones who hurt me. I practically set myself up to be hurt, it’s all my fault. I’m always causing problems and making others fix it. I’m just useless and I hate myself.” Your voice breaks and you set your almost finished piece of toast on the bed so you can bury your face in your hands.

If his heart was beating, it would have stopped at the words coming from your mouth. It would have shattered into a million pieces at the way you fully believe the words you’re speaking.

But all he can feel is a dull ache in the middle of his chest, making it hard to breathe as his hands shake and his throat closes.

Jungkook moves forward, taking your hands from your face and pushing you to lay down as he hovers over you.

Your eyes are flitting between his, trying to figure out what he’s doing. He just leans closer and touches his forehead to yours, his breath tickling your mouth. Then he nudges your nose with his before pecking it.

“I-”

He kisses your chin.

“-love-”

Kisses to your cheeks.

“-all of you-“

One on your forehead.

“-more than you will ever know.”

Lastly, he kisses your lips, deepening it as his hand comes up to caress your face. You close your eyes and just let him kiss you, feeling a warmth spread through your body down to the tips of your toes.

Jungkook pulls away after a moment, “I could say every little thing I love about you, but I don’t want you to just hear me…I want you to listen.” He catches your gaze and stares into your eyes deeply. Looking at his deep red eyes makes you think about when you first met him, and how those unnatural irises terrified you. Now, you can feel yourself getting lost in them and never wanting to come out.

“I’ll prove it to you, that I care about you and I’m not lying. I’ll show you, y/n.” You feel a small smile creeping up on you when he repeats your own words back to you with a cute smile. Jungkook takes your hand and folds it into his, “Nobody else’s hand could fit in mine perfectly the way yours does, and nobody else can make me smile like you do. You’re kind to everyone, and it always makes me happy to see you laugh, the way your nose scrunches up.”

You sniffle as he continues. “No one can hug me the way you do or kiss me like you do.” With those words, he kisses you again. “Nobody could ever make me feel the way you do, y/n. No one deserves to be treated the way you’ve been, and I want you to believe that. You’ve only ever made decisions to do things when you had other’s interests at heart, and I love you for that. Seeing you hurting because of them kills me, and I’ll do whatever I can to take it all away.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to you, running your fingers through his hair to ground yourself. “I’ve got you, little one.” Jungkook whispers into your hair. You feel your eyes burn with tears as your emotions go into overdrive. Your heart aches with how much you love him, and the fact that he loves you just as much is so foreign to you, you don’t know what to do.

You wish everything would just be okay. You’re sick of being afraid all the time, and never being sure if you all are safe. It seems like all the horrors lurking in the shadows will never be gone.

~                           ~                            ~

A few days pass, and Jungkook diligently makes sure that you eat and get enough rest. You’re speaking normally soon enough, your brain having started to blur and block out all the images once again. It seems like your brain’s way of dealing with trauma is to pretend it didn’t happen.

A  few days after you got back from the vampire incident, Seokjin sees you come down to the table at breakfast time.

“Hey! There’s my girl! How are you feeling, y/n?” He asks you brightly, to which you give him your old bright smile as you sit at the table. “I’m feeling okay, thanks Jinnie.” He chuckles and sets a plate of pancakes in front of you.

“I hope you’re hungry, I made a lot today.”

You stare at the pancakes, wide-eyed and starving. “I am! Thank you.” Jin giggles and goes back to the stove.

Suddenly, a pounding on the stairs is heard and someone bursts into the kitchen, making you and Jin flinch as you turn to see who it is.

Jungkook does a double take when he sees you sitting there, then he sighs in relief. “You scared me, I didn’t see you in your room.” You laugh and cover your mouth that has a bite of pancake in it. “Sorry, Kookie. I was starving.”

Seokjin bites back a smile and turns back to the pancakes he’s flipping.

Once everyone is gathered at the table and eating happily, Yoongi speaks up. “I hate being the bearer of bad news. But we have a problem that we still haven’t discussed.” Everyone turns to him, setting their forks down and chewing while they give him their full attention.

“What is it?” Seokjin is the first to ask.

“Y/n, you said there was a vampire camp.” Yoongi looks at you sympathetically, like he hates to bring it up again. Jungkook takes your hand under the table. “You said there were a lot of them in a small building. I hate to ask you for details, but when I heard you say they were about six and a half miles away from us…” His voice fades but everyone knows what he’s thinking.

They’re too close.

You clear your throat, “It’s okay. I’m sorry I haven’t told you the details yet.” Everyone shakes their heads and a chorus of protests saying that you did nothing wrong floats around the table. You swallow and dive right into it. “My old friend Seungwook is a Hunter. I went to talk with him because I had seen him hanging around close to the house. I wanted to explain everything to him so that he wouldn’t hurt you guys.” Jungkook squeezes your hand encouragingly.

“He didn’t listen, and when he walked away, I figured I could follow him back to where he was staying so I could tell you guys and we could make a plan. When I found out he was going somewhere else, I decided to go anyway and see what was up. There was a small building, but I heard one of his Hunter friends say that there were at least fifty vampires in there.”

The silence around the table after you say that makes your tummy clench in anxiety. Jungkook keeps a grip on your hand as Yoongi nods. “So, what do we do?” He asks Jin.

It’s almost like something has snapped in the eldest vampire. His eyes are hard with anger as he slams his fork down and pushes his chair back roughly, making it skid on the hard floor. He grabs his plate and all but throws it into the sink. His gaze is almost distant as he glares at the dishes.

“We’re going to fucking end this.”

____________________________________

a/n: damn. seokjin fecking snAPped 👀

tag list: @jjungkook99 @ditttiii @rubinora @mygukandonly @elliegrace1999tvd @karissassirak @krystle1990 @your-best-behaviour @lettersforjoon @hopeworld-baseline @squidyelmosquidbutt @howbizarre @nikikookie @adelina1299 @jeonjungkookismyfuture @fekitza @xxxanimangxxx

[starkerforlife6969]

The Upper Hand - Starker

TW: violence, dark tony, overly protective tony, kidnapping

It’s not often that people get the upper hand on him.

In fact, it never happens. Tony wouldn’t allow it to happen. He plans everything. And it’s not that he’s a control freak and needs things just so, it’s that he expects a certain level from life. Whether that’s silk bedsheets or high-quality drains in the basement, he wants the best. 

Peter Parker is the best. The best thing that ever happened to Tony. 

He’s another reason, an important reason, the most important reason why Tony can’t afford to let people get the upper hand on him. 

The safest thing to do would be to stop. To get a handle on it. To hire a storage unit and move the cage there. And he had plans to do that, really he did, but then Peter had batted his pretty eyelashes and said in that honey-sweet tone, shy and petal-perfect: 

“Wouldn’t it be nice, if um…if you wanted, maybe we could…we could live together?” And he’d looked bare and vulnerable and hopeful, and Tony had kissed him hard on the mouth, rewarding his bravery. 

“My home is your home, sweetheart,” he’d vowed. And that had always been true. Been true the moment he’d first laid eyes on the boy. 

But it had meant, with Peter moving into the manor, that Tony hadn’t quite had the time to arrange for a storage unit. For clean up. For safety precautions. 

“You sick- you sick fuck!” Beck screams, waving the keys victoriously. Tony eyes him, going for bored. Beck is dripping with blood, cocky and stupid with his luck (and it’s luck, luck and absolutely no skill at all. He caught Tony off guard, and like he said, it’s not often that anyone- especially not pieces of shit like Beck- gets the upper hand on him). “You sick fuck!” He yells again, staggering until he’s leaning against the desk. He rummages through the drawers, presumably looking for something to staunch the bleeding. 

“Quin,” Tony murmurs, voice gentle, even as he tries the door. It won’t budge, he knows that. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Or what?” Beck laughs hysterically, “you don’t have any power from where I’m standing. Look who has all the power now, bitch!”

“I have all the power.” Tony hisses, tone dark, “I always have the power.”

Beck spits at them, and then races for the stairs. 

Tony waits, listening.

The door of the basement rattles. Beck’s cries of despair grow louder. 

“Thank goodness for the sound proofing, am I right?” Tony drawls loudly, resting his forehead against the glass door of the cage he’s trapped in. His own cage. It might even serve him right if Quentin escaped. He’s been so stupid.

Beck reappears, shaking with ire. “Where are the keys to the door?” 

“Now why,” Tony wets his lips, arching an eyebrow, “would I tell you that?” 

“Because you’re down here too.” Beck whispers, “you’ll starve to death.”

Tony grins. 

Beck starts searching the drawers. More frantic this time. 

Tony really needs to think. He needs a plan now. The key for the basement door is in his pocket. If he could get Beck to open the door to the cage, take him out- maybe. He can’t get out of the cage without Beck, and Beck can’t get out of the basement without him. It looks like a stalemate then, at least for the time being. 

“Fuck!” Beck yells, kicking at the upturned desk in frustration. He’s wobbly on his legs. 

Tony offers him a sympathetic smile.

—

This, Tony thinks, watching as Beck starts to doze off from a mixture of exhaustion, dehydration and blood loss, could be a problem. He does’t want Beck to die down here, because then he’d be stuck. 

“Hey!” Tony snaps, knocking on the glass, “get over here, you piece of shit, I’ll give you the key. Just open the door.”

“Key…” Beck slurs, head dropping down onto his chest. 

Tony’s about to start jangling the key like he’s luring a dog with a treat when his heart goes cold.

The basement door unlocks and creaks open. Golden light spills down the stairs. 

Beck doesn’t even seem to notice. 

Tony can hardly breathe. 

“Hey, T?” Comes Peter’s gentle, sleep ruffled voice. It’s drowsy and around a yawn and utterly adorable. 

“Fuck,” Tony whispers to himself. 

“Are you down here? I don’t wanna disturb you, I’m just…” Peter’s voice is sweet and shy, “It’s three am and you should get some sleep.” 

“Baby…” Tony whispers. It’s all crashing. It’s crashing around him. He tries to be silent.

Beck lets out a loud, gurgling cough. 

There’s a beat. 

“Tony?” Peter calls, more worried now. And then his footsteps, as he pads barefoot down the steps. Each one a descent closer to the truth, to the depravity, there’s no way out of this. This is a new cage. A worse cage. There’s no plan for this. 

He turns, he can’t help it, he has to see- and there he is. His boy. Peter, frozen on the step. 

He’s in the satin robe Tony bought him, and an oversized tee, and his hair is ruffled and mussed from where he likes to smoosh into all the pillows. His honey eyes are wide with horror. 

They cast over the scene. Quentin, almost out cold, missing teeth and covered in blood, and Tony, pristine, trapped in the cage. 

Peter doesn’t move. He stares: frozen. 

“Peter, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs, and then his voice cracks. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

Peter trembles. His entire body shaking and Tony just wants to wrap him up in a hug. His boy looks at Beck. 

“Is that…” Peter whispers, “is he…is he dead?” There’s terror in his voice. 

“Just passed out, I think.” Tony murmurs, keeping his voice soothing. “He got the upper had on me.”

“Is that…it looks like Beck. He’s been missing for weeks, Tony, has he…oh god…”

“He hurt you, baby, I wasn’t gonna let that stand-“

“Oh my god,” Peter covers his mouth, chocking on a sob. “Tony!”

His crying stirs Beck, who seems to come back to life with a sudden flood of adrenaline. 

“Peter!” Beck yells, staggering to his feet, seeing the open basement door. 

Peter lets out a scream of terror, turning and fleeing up the stairs. Tony can only watch in horror as Beck runs after him. 

He beats at the glass, roars like a trapped animal, but there’s nothing he can do. 

He doesn’t know what’s happening up there. Beck’s probably run out- he’d know better by now, than to try to hurt Peter. He’s called the police. Or Pete’s called the police, and they’re coming. Tony sinks slowly to the ground in quiet contemplation.

He had a good run. He got everything he wanted in life. He knew love. Maybe Peter will visit him in prison. Peter’s beautifully, naively loyal like that. Tony will break out for him- as long as Peter can forgive him, and Peter will eventually.

Right? The thought that he might not makes Tony shut his eyes against the onslaught of pain. What if his boy can never look at him again, what if he’s lost it- his soulmate? 

The thoughts take him to a place of nothing. A tortured infinity. When suddenly-

There’s a horrible clattering and a thumping, and Beck’s, very much dead, body comes careening down the stairs.

Tony jerks up, gets to his feet, and watches as Peter walks down after it. Tony immediately scans him for bruises. There’s blood speckled on his cheek (it’s a very good look) and tears glistening in his eyes. He looks okay, he looks-

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Peter sniffles miserably, finally coming down the stairs and standing before Tony. The glass parts them horribly, Tony wants to reach out and touch. Peter looks small and sad. “He was gonna- he wouldn’t give me the keys. He was gonna turn you in.”

It’s starting to dawn on him. Tony can hardly believe it. “Pete…”

“I begged him,” Peter cries, with his perfect little face. “I just wanted the keys, and if he promised not to tell anyone, it would be- he could leave, but he- I had to-“ and he starts to cry.

Tony presses himself against the glass. “You’ve saved me, baby, shhh, you didn’t do anything wrong. My precious boy, my angel, it’s okay. It’s okay.” 

Peter has to take a few moments to compose himself, before he can stop shaking. And then, miraculously, Tony’s very own guardian angel (and isn’t that funny, he’d thought he was protecting Peter all this time, but he should have known) slides the key into the lock. 

Peter pulls open the door, and stands there, looking at Tony meaningfully. 

Tony gets it. 

He races to his boy, sweeps him into an embrace and peppers him with kisses. Whispers a litany of reassurance and praise. 

He carries Peter upstairs, barely suppressing anger at the state of the living room and kitchen. There’s been a struggle, Peter’s probably more hurt than Tony can see. 

He lowers his boy into a hot bath, full of bubbles and Peter’s favourite fragrance, and the boy’s starting to slump now, his honey eyed angel, adrenaline slipping out of his system. There are bruises forming on his ribs and it’s probably a good thing Beck's dead because Tony would have to make him pay. 

“Sleep, little one,” Tony whispers, kissing Peter’s damp forehead, and letting him nap in the safety of the jacuzzi bath. 

He cleans the mess of the kitchen and the living room. Then he goes to deal with the basement. Beck is dead, and Tony drags his body into the cage. He reorganises his desk and mops up the blood. 

He locks the basement door behind him. 

——

Peter’s still asleep in the bath, so Tony showers quickly, changes into fresh pyjamas, and comes to carry his boy to bed. He wraps him in a towel, dresses him in silk, and tucks him in, sliding in beside him and combing his fingers through that butter-soft hair. 

His Peter, his angel. “What did I do to deserve you?” Tony marvels aloud, “my sunshine, honey, boy. My sweetheart,”

“I love you,” Peter whispers sleepily, eyes still closed. “You should keep a spare key hidden in the cage.” 

Tony blinks. His heart bursts with love. “I adore you, Peter Parker.”

There are problems to deal with, a dead body in the basement, bruises on his boy that Tony will kiss but one more thing is in Tony’s mind. 

The only person to ever really get the upper hand on him, is Peter Parker. And Tony wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 i love you guys!

[captainjimothycarter]

Prompt: Peggy is sick (like, cold... nothing serious) and hates being taken care of, but Steve isn't going to let her suffer alone.

SOFT. This should be 40s AU but I suck at medical from the 40s. So hello modern, no-powers AU.

--

Peggy Carter hated, more than anything in life was to be sick. She was not a good patient, she was miserable when sick. She mostly hated when people doted after her like she was some weak, helpless person.

She wasn’t. She was just sick.

And right now, she was miserable. She couldn’t breathe out her left nostril while her right nostril wheezed every time she attempted. Her throat felt raw and aching and worst of all, she couldn’t get enough to drink. Top it off, her body was trying to decide if she should have a fever on top of all of this or not.

The knocking at her apartment door made her groan, only because dragging herself to her feet and stumbling to the door. She almost fell when it opened by itself, another groan dragging from her lips when she saw who was it.

Steve. Of course her hot, new neighbor, and landlord of the apartments. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve flinched when she almost fell, lowering the plastic bag he had in hand. “When you didn’t answer, I was just going to drop this off inside the door, I promise.”

Peggy wanted to get mad, wanted to throw a fit and demand that Steve at least tell her he was coming by or give her some warning about how he was going to invade her privacy, but then it struck her. He probably had and she’d been non the wiser with her phone currently off to avoid people from work blowing her up about a new patient.

So she couldn’t get mad even if she wanted to. 

“I didn’t think you were that type,” she mumbled, speaking out of her nose and no louder than a whisper given her situation. “To invade other’s privacy, I mean.” She could see just how awkward this 6’0, 240-pound man was, looking impossibly small somehow in her doorway.

“No, no I’m not. I grew up with landlords like that and I fuckin’ hated it.” In fact, Peggy got the impression he hated being a landlord too. His biggest passion seemed to be the pastries and sweets he brought around every Friday. 

It’s why rent was so cheap and everyone was lovely taken care of, every little need met. He normally catered to those struggling, Steve told her once when they were walking from apartment to apartment to see which one she liked. He catered to the elderly who could barely get up somedays or to the single moms and those on hard times, and especially veterans. Why the hell she was picked as a tenant, she had no idea. She was none of those things and quite frankly, she was almost afraid to ask.

“What’s in the bag?” Peggy asked, the question coming out nasally. Even Steve flinched.

“Oh, uh, chicken noodle soup courtesy of my ma. She was the blonde lady you spoke to the other day when you dropped off the rest.” Steve’s face flushed a shade of pink and shrugged his impossibly big shoulders. “She said you sounded sick and made this. Guess she was right.”

Peggy’s tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. The smell of the broth made her stomach grumble, becoming fully aware that she hadn’t eaten in forever. She could remember Steve’s ma, almost a spitting image of her with the hair and eyes, even the same freckled nose.

“Do you want to...come in?” Her head jerked and Peggy regretted that action, nearly stumbling back if it wasn’t for Steve’s arm reaching out to prevent her from making contact with the coat rack. 

“Sure.” He paused, looking her up and down. Her nose was a bright shade of red and her eyes rimmed red like she’s been rubbing at them. She curled in on herself, like trying to huddle in all her warmth. She didn’t wear her normal poised clothes, instead of pajamas and a housecoat. 

“You really are sick,” he breathed. “Jesus. How long have you been in here?”

“Three days. I hated calling out of work, but I can’t even smell, and believe it or not that’s a big part of my job.”

Steve lead her over to the couch and tucked her into the cushions, picking up a thick blanket to wrap around her. He turned the heater off and instead turned to the fireplace to get a roaring fire going. The windows were cracked to let in some fresh air. 

He paused at her description, still kneeling by the fireplace with tender in hand. “Part of your job as a veterinarian is to smell the animals?” 

His laugh made Peggy’s heart flutter. The way he laughed, he looked so carefree and warm. Like she wanted to bury herself in his chest and listen to his heart beating. “It is, if I can’t smell then I might miss a key factor as to how they’re sick. Plus, I can barely see straight.”

Steve’s tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, nodding his head. “You do look terrible.”

“Anyone ever tells you that you suck at talking to women, Rogers?” 

Steve smiled, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Sometimes. You stay there, I’ll get you tea and soup heated up.”

By the time he was back with a tray full of crackers, soup, and tea, Peggy was properly dozing on the couch. Setting the tray down, he knelt down by Peggy’s side and used a cool rag to press to her forehead, glad to see that she wasn’t so hot. Maybe the fever had broken.

When her beautiful eyes opened, Steve’s smile only grew. This close, Peggy could count his lashes. Oh, he had such pretty eyes, flecks of green inside of a chamber of blue.

“Hi,” she breathed, fully aware right now that she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth for two days due to gagging and the mouth wash wasn’t helping her sick breath.

“Hi,” he breathed in return, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her head. “Soups heated up. C’mon, ma’s cure-all.”

It took some maneuvering to get her to sit up, involving having to lean into Steve’s chest because all energy had escaped her. He had to feed her and Peggy wanted to be frustrated at this, but all she could think about was being pressed into his warm body and thinking how nice this was.

The soup was wonderful, even with hints of ginger and pepper burning her throat. It was a pleasant burn and almost washed away the achingness. The chicken was tender and the noodles perfectly cooked, even Peggy, whose not a snob over food, had to admit it was a wonderful meal.

Steve seemed pleased that she finished half the bowl at least before calling it quits, setting the tray aside. He seemed to get ready to get up but she leaned back into him and this close, Steve smelled that sickness that settled when someone was sweating a fever out.

“Have you showered?” He asked, attempting to be nonchalant, but going by Peggy’s snort, it was anything, but.

“Again, terrible at talking to women.” Her head leaned back and she breathed out a long, aching sigh. “And no, I haven’t been able to get myself off of this couch beyond the kitchen and the bathroom. A bath seems like too much.”

“I think it’ll do you good, so will sleep in a proper bed, not the couch. C’mon, I’ll run you a bath.” 

Before Peggy could protest about how her landlord was going to see her naked, Steve was gone. She could hear him upstairs and the sound of water running. When he came back down, his shirt soaked to the point she could see the abs through the white material.

Oh, that was a nice sight.

“Are you going to strip me?” She teased after Steve had slowly helped her up the stairs, a hand on her lower back to keep her steady after she refused to be carried. 

“I-no-but-you.” Steve was fully aware his face was flushing a bright red, feeling how warm he was.

Peggy was rewarded with the sight of his neck turning a shade of red. He was a full-body blusher then. “I was teasing. I can strip. Just...be here to help me out if I fall? I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Steve stayed outside her closed bathroom door, the floorboard creaking under his feet as he teeter tottered, listening to her heavy sigh as she laid back in the warm water. “Are you okay?” He called. 

“Yes, darling.” A pause, a splash of water. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Pegs. I’m going to go clean downstairs. Just call me if you need anything.”

Before he could do something stupid, Steve found himself rushing down the steps, shaking his head. While Peggy bathed, he took her sick blankets and pillows, airing them out after spraying them down with disinfectant. He wasn’t sure if she wanted them washed or not. He sprayed the couch down while he was at it, opening the windows more to let fresh air in.

A sweep through the kitchen and last check of the living room, Steve was satisfied that Peggy’s beautiful home wasn’t too sickly-smelling. When Peggy had called him, he was already up the stairs, a warm towel in hand.

“Here,” he called after knocking on the door, sticking the towel through the opened door. 

“Oh, it’s warm. Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute.”

When the door opened, Steve saw the bath did help some. She looked better and her face wasn’t so flushed. “How do you feel?” He asked, taking the damp towel and leading her to her already warmed bed, thanks to the heater.

“A bit better, still feel like I could sleep a week.”

“I think you should. The soup should help you feel better in no time. Here.” Tucking her in, Steve paused to gently tuck a loose lock of hair behind her head. “Do you need anything?”

Unable to help it, her lips pursed in thought. “You to stay?”

The question posed made Steve stall in mid-step, turning to look back at Peggy. He fully expected to leave and call or text her later, not ask to stay.

“Stay? With you? Sure, I can...can go downstairs?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “No, Steven. With me. In bed. Just to...cuddle, until I fall asleep?”

There was no answer to be had because World Infamous Worst-Talker-To-Women-Ever couldn’t say no, not when Peggy was asking to cuddle her until she slept. He slowly got into bed, on top of the covers. She pulled herself in, close to his chest, and breathed him in with a heavy, exhausted sigh.

This close, fresh from a bath, she no longer smelled like sickness, but instead soft and floral and Peggy.

“Get some rest,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. “I’m right here.”

“You better be,” she grumbled in midst of his pecs. “Or I’ll have a serious complaint to the landlord in the morning.” 

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 53: Cat, Rat, and Dog

There was a short, bumpy slide down his rump before he was left sprawling in a pile of dirt in a dark tunnel as their next destination. Sirius tried to sit up and then grunted in further pain as several more people came tumbling down on top of him.

Maneuvering and cursing helped sort it out, mainly the second, and soon they all found themselves able to hunch over uncomfortably, but they'd been in worse places recently. He didn't even need Evans to light her wand to tell him where they were though, he'd know this secret passage as well as his own dorm room. The sharp windy breeze discernible above his head, the faint, musty odor of blood and dust ahead, the way the path was slightly less well worn than any of the other hidden tunnels they'd ever found, though that was quickly being changed the longer the Marauders knew about it. They were underneath the Whomping Willow.

He didn't need Remus' soft little whimper of worry, James subtly stepping between Moony and everyone, or Peter's awkward shuffling backing away from everyone to know why this put them in such an awkward position. The only conceivable reason to them why Harry would be down here, is that one of the Marauder's had taken him down here for some reason. Neither of the present two seemed to have much of a good reason.

Waiting at the end of the slope was the now dusty purple book, sitting innocently with the pages now smattered and crumpled from so many people kicking and landing on it as they went past. Sirius swallowed a bit of bile as he went to pick it up, but he ignored his hand shaking as he met Remus' eyes and tried to concoct a plan for the worst.

If, and it was still a very big if to him, Harry was somehow down here because he found out about Moony and had some cockamamie idea about seeing it, the three friends in this time would have to do a hell of a lot of covering up for their Remus now to make sure none knew the wiser it wasn't true now. He gazed down at the chapter title for too long, Frank began laughing at what the hold up was. As an experiment, he tried to laugh and summarize the odd chapter title, just telling everyone else it was a bunch of animal names, but no more words appeared until he finally said Cat, Rat, and Dog.

He couldn't fake it. He didn't know a way how to talk them out of this one.

It didn't start out with any good omens, what with Buckbeak being unjustly killed and the poor trio's reaction. Then Scabbers started going nuts, the reason being quickly revealed Crookshanks was still after him. Still he could hardly spare any of it a thought as the tunnel subtly shifted in size around them, though he really couldn't care less now he could stand up straight instead of hunched over the book.

Then the dog arrived.

He startled so hard he scraped his head against the ceiling, causing a slight dust cloud around him and pouring over the book. He took the temporary coughing fit this caused amongst the others to gaze at his friends in pleading silence to tell him he'd read that wrong, but their shadowed eyes gave nothing away.

Sirius had started this worried about how Moony's involvement was going to get dragged into this and what potential secrets was going to come of that, now a whole new scenario was playing out behind his mind's eye. The deranged animal he'd become in Azkaban, sapping away his humanity and leaving him with one animal urge left to kill, somehow being directed on one he'd so love.

A puddle of sick was there at his feet, and he didn't even remember doing it. His throat still burned, his stomach rolled and threatened to continue any moment, but all he felt was the horror his mind had latched onto and wouldn't let go. He'd gifted himself this animal form to save Moony, now it would be the death of James- Harry- James-

"It's alright Padfoot-"

"Let it out mate."

"How hard did he hit his head? Did he give himself a concussion?"

It all swam before him like he was seeing the three from underwater, he was afraid to clear his gaze and find out what was holding him upright, but James was there. His best friend was undeniably keeping him on his feet, not the wall. Remus and Peter were promising in every way but words that no matter what that monster of their future did they weren't going to pin the blame on him now. Even Regulus was bouncing on the heels of his feet and eyeing him in concern rather than criticizing anything for once. He should feel safer than ever, but he didn't know how to shake loose the terror lodged in him, had zero faith he could say the words that he'd killed his godson.

Wormtail finally took pity on him, and after several Evanesco spells to pick the book back up, gave them all a confident smile he could somehow make this easier on everyone if he was the one to say it.

The madness didn't sound much better coming from him, as Ron was somehow grabbed instead and dragged along into this very tunnel. Sirius could swear he could identify the very streaks of blood in the dark lighting. It didn't work the sanity back into his favor any. That wild animal seemed determined to kill and had just grabbed the wrong kid. Did that mean something of him had spared Harry at the last second, or was he so gone he couldn't even be bothered to care anymore.

He tried to fight that off, surely if students had been attacked and killed all year they would have heard of it! Was this the first time then, and he'd been building up to it?

Harry and Hermione went after them, to no one's surprise, but too late the Marauders misunderstood the look of dawning determination the four outsiders had on the Marauders.

Potter didn't make a joke about saving another redhead in distress with a salacious look at Lily, Lupin wasn't hovering in the background with suppressed laughter but was now the one with a supporting hand on his friends shoulder and trying to whisper words of comfort for no one else's ears. Pettigrew was reading like an ancy toddler, his voice stopping to squeak uncomfortably every time he stopped for breath.

Of course they'd be worried about Potter's kid, that wasn't unreasonable as they'd all made it clear from the beginning they'd been invested in this future and Harry. Their distress over Black's fate of being an escaped madman had also been perfectly reasonable, if a little blind to some of them early on. Now with time on their side they'd finally conceded maybe all of Black's actions weren't so black and white, and it wasn't Potter being comforted for the fate of his child they were watching.

The idea, the unbelievable, illegal, but slow forming understanding had hardly taken root before it was slapped in their faces. Sirius Black was an unregistered animagus, and his friends knew it.

"You idiot," Regulus told him with pure sincerity. He would have decked him if his brother didn't look so miserable already.

Sirius was exhausted. He'd spent countless hours now being hurtled through someone else's life with company he wouldn't have asked for, now he'd been living through countless hours believing himself a madman and a murderer which finally seemed irrevocably true. He didn't know what would happen to him if this secret was told, but surely a fine at the worst, which still wasn't as bad as Moony's secret being revealed. He was tired, so he didn't deny it.

"I don't understand," Frank muttered, looking between the four. "You must have a reason for doing this, even you lot know this is more than breaking a school rule for kicks. What possible reason-"

"He doesn't have to explain himself to you even if he did know," James snapped, his every breath trembling with nerves. The nightmarish image of Sirius dragging Ron off, his own self congratulatory words Harry would follow wasn't adding up to him. If he'd wanted to kill Harry than he'd had opportunity enough, something else was going on here, and he was already getting a headache trying to follow along, let alone fending off their prying questions.

It fooled no one. They all knew now, and no one was sure how to go forward with the information.

Sirius couldn't stand there any longer, avoiding their eyes, doing nothing. So he snatched the book back from Wormtail as he took another trembling breath, reading out in his own harsh tongue the tussle between him and Harry, the thirteen year old kid actually winning with the help of his friends and then considering murdering him. He almost wished Harry would, put him out of his misery those dementors had trapped inside him.

Then Remus was there, offering backup Sirius had never asked for but always seemed to find when he least expected it. Sirius wanted to fall into his arms now, sob in gratitude he wasn't alone in this future and Moony was still there for him, something still made sense. The only thing stopping him was the fear of drawing attention back to Moony, the one Marauder who had another illegal secret much more dangerous to have the spotlight on, in a house they were far too close to, with a night ahead they had no absolutes about.

It was all in vain as Hermione ousted him, after he'd finally been able to get his feet under him. Sirius took a deep breath, threw back his shoulders, and dug into every bit of collective knowledge he'd acquired over the past sixteen years of his life as he turned to Remus and said, "and I thought I was the monster in there."

It was there for just a second, the flicker of hurt, the shadow of true fear at those words finally being flung in his face, but he also knew Sirius. He'd seen the true look of disgust on his face directed at other students for whispering about werewolves after they'd come up in a lesson. He'd heard the true tones of unforgivable loathing every time he looked at Snape. This was Padfoot covering Moony's tail and leaving his own hanging. There was every chance it wasn't going to work, but he smiled at him all the same for trying.

James slugged Sirius in the shoulder and called him a jerk, trying his hardest to sound like he didn't mean it. Peter had perfected the art of an awkward laugh and shuffled even farther away, keeping his hands behind his back to now show them trembling with nerves at being caught.

It might have actually worked, had they not spent every other available moment defending one of their own against another equally radical claim. Now, their blasé brushing of this off just gave other moments a chance to make a lot more sense.

Frank recoiled, waiting for his life to flash before his eyes as he realized the danger they'd been in without even realizing it. He went back and counted, almost kicked himself for each clue he'd overlooked. What being an illegal animagus had to do with it, or even if the two were cause and effect he still wasn't sure, but he grabbed Alice's hand and began trying to pull her as far away up the tunnel from the rest of this insanity as he could. They hadn't asked for this.

Alice jerked her hand away with a scowl at her boyfriend, she hadn't grown up with the prejudices she knew most purebloods had gained. Her mum was an auror, she was descended from the first set to have ever gotten the job. She knew from countless stories what it felt like to be victim and hero, and right now she saw Remus Lupin, hovering terrified behind his friends, as an innocent person just like her.

"Frank!" She protested as he hesitated. He didn't continue backing away, but he didn't look much ashamed for his automatic reaction, nor her tone.

"You don't want to hear the stories my mum's told me about werewolves-"

"Your mum sounds like a paranoid git the more I hear about her," Alice crossed her arms in frustration. "I've heard things from my parents too, and they're not just stories. Those poor creatures live in poverty, most of them just kill to survive-"

"Oi! Do you two mind having this conversation like he's in the room," Sirius Black took a dangerous step towards the pair, even in the near darkness they could see the anger coming off of him, as Lupin shuffled even farther away from all present in shame.

Sirius regretted his outburst at once. Five years of ignoring other kids whispered comments about this and he'd caved now, but he couldn't just shoot a hex at them and laugh it off like his usual prank, Remus couldn't just pull him along to the next class muttering to him how much it didn't matter.

Peter, to his credit, still tried as he piped up, "yeah, how would you like it if we started laughing about how your future turns out? Oh wait, we don't even know yet!"

"Oh don't kid yourself Peter," Regulus rolled his eyes. "The man himself hasn't even denied it, and you lot are actually terrible liars." He was slightly paler under his dark hair than usual, his eyes remaining trained untrusting on the outed party, and every terrible lesson he'd ever been through with his father over dark creatures was playing back through his mind, but for once in his life Regulus was trying to drown out every outside voice but his own.

He wasn't sure how much he could trust Sirius over his own parents, he'd thought his brother had never lied to him but now even that was wrong. Now all he had left to feel were the two contradictions of his life, the lies of You-Know-Who's heritage and his own. If he'd been wrong about that all his life, what else was he wrong in assuming straight from his parents?

Lily wondered if she was going to be sick. Her first thought was that it made a horrible kind of sense, the cruel lot of friends had found each other, of course Potter and Black would accept a werewolf as a friend considering they showed no mercy to their own victims of those horrible degrading acts they called pranks.

She looked again though, really looked at them. Remus Lupin was a scared, pale teenager watching those around him take in this news as he hovered behind his friends. No 'monster' could ever look that vulnerable and be a pure killer. Peter Pettigrew was looking between them and his friends, like he was waiting for a signal what was going to happen next. He still trusted his friends to make that decision so he could go along, while those horrible friends of Severus', even Sev of late followed blindly with the first thing they were told by their superiors without thinking twice about it. Sirius Black was being accused of murder, now of his best friends son, and he still stood right beside him as if at any moment he was going to be that killer for his friends. James Potter stood as their center, every bit their good influence as he was the bad.

Silence like none before lay thick in the air, each person waiting for someone else to make the next move. Sirius reacted first, it was his sanity on the line here, and now with Remus involuntarily being thrown into the mix in this future, it was both their lives on the line. He snatched the book away from Peter and read in a blur. He wished his future self would give Professor Lupin a kick for tottering on about Sirius dragging two people into this passage, about focusing on Ron's pet of all things.

He cursed the man having to over explain everything now of all times as none of it was making any sense. How was any of this helping?

The mental tirade came to a halt as Sirius Black, the escaped prisoner of Azkaban, finally answered who had done these true crimes all along. Peter Pettigrew.