#i maybe understand it if it’s about a procedural but damn this made me so angry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lostfracturess · 7 months ago

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symptoms and causes | ch. 11

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem.

I don't know how.

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now?

I knew this was right.

Right for her.

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first.

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how.

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him.

Sorry.

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense.

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered.

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word.

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care.

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled.

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill.

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied.

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen.

This was my punishment.

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want.

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her.

How could I not?

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it?

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her.

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age.

No, she didn't know I'd set it up.

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me.

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies.

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating.

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall.

My blood roared in my ears.

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open.

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now.

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna.

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right.

In his twisted way, he was.

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard.

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain.

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right? You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair. It had taken everything in me to push her away.

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me.

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you." Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?"

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course.

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel.

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything.

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything.

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair.

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat.

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five?

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder.

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood.

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak.

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time?

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table.

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many.

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision. Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet.

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall.

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course.

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity.

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg.

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut.

I reached for the syringe and read the label.

Adrenaline.

Smart girl.

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers.

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror.

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse.

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it?

How much power this woman had over me.

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't.

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within.

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this.

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish.

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated.

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off. "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full.

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life.

Not until her.

Not until she changed me completely.

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me?

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her.

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before?

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little.

Nothing.

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves?

Because she does.

She deserves everything.

She is everything.

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life?

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me.

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips.

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for.

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized.

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better."

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything.

"Say something, Satoru."

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!"

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me. Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger.

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this.

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her. Gods, how I love her.

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore.

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that.

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse.

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next.

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment.

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half.

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in. Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting.

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right?

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was.

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Second-year lecture.

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her.

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her.

But I knew it was wrong.

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her.

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence.

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face.

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—"

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know.

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat.

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment.

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out.

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out.

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me.

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep.

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency.

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself.

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks.

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it.

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open.

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder.

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence.

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out." I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages. "You want me to do it? Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows. "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk.

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag. "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest.

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares.

Another night of that shit.

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault.

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her.

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself.

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good.

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it?

It was over.

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin.

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch.

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill.

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank.

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination.

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but — manageable.

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed.

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side.

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it.

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it?

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable.

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched.

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips.

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun.

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me.

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion.

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it."

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh?

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything.

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh?

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned.

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head.

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter?

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me.

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut.

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin. I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line.

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips.

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second.

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward.

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole.

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her.

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin.

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body.

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—"

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips.

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle.

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release.

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips.

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm.

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm.

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit.

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance.

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release.

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me.

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight.

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious. "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are.

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future!)

#symptoms and causes #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #gojo angst #jjk smut #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

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aidenlydia · 5 months ago

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I have seen that you are very open about supporting trans people and that your pronouns are they/them. How were you able to understand that you were trans? (If you are.) I've honestly felt so confused lately and don't have anyone I can ask about this. I love your ftm ghost art. I think it is amazing. I just don't know what to do or how I'll ever be able to figure out myself. Totally not your job but was curious if you had advice.

Not sure how helpful this will be, because my trans experience is deeply interlinked with my Dissociative Identity Disorder and Autism, so I'm sorry if this is a bit confusing.

What is Dissociative Identity Disorder

Dissociative Identity Disorder - Terms and Definitions

Autism and Gender

The reason why I go by they/them is because we're literally multiple people. Our two Hosts Aiden and Lydia (aka the alters interacting most with the world outside of our own head) are a man and a woman. We spend all our time together, sharing a body and the control over it.

We used to go by he/she, but people would only view us as a girl because of our body, so we switched to they/them. It makes more sense and feels better to be acknowledged together instead of Aiden being left out all the damn time.

Now bear with me here.

Though Lydia is a cis women, she grew up never belonging anywhere because we're autistic, so she feels like an imposter and a fraud when trying to connect to her feminity. Most days we barely feel human at all because we've been othered all our life. But she still views herself as a woman - motherhood in particular is a big important part of her.

Aiden is a trans man, but he doesn't mind our feminine body and doesn't plan on getting surgery ever. Testosterone maybe, but even that isn't super important to him at the moment. To him knowing he's a man is enough, passing isn't a priority at all. And because all of our Littles are girls he's rather protective of their body - any kind of medical procedure would cause a lot of fear in them.

He realized he's trans because he preferred a male name for himself, short hair and male clothing. It happened very quickly because exploring gender has never been an issue for us, it's fun and simply felt comfortable.

We do have two Agender Alters, but they don't come out in our regular daily life. They don't feel like anything really, they're deeply connected to nature and just want to exist as genderless beings, so they prefer not taking control of our body. It feels peaceful not being put into a box or defined by gender expectations and whatever other bullshit the world comes up with.

In the past we used to have another trans male Host, but he was suffering deeply from gender dysphoria. He couldn't stand the sight of our body or existing in it and became very self destructive about it. Until one day he just stopped coming out and hasn't been back since.

Before I even realized I had DID, gender wasn't really a concept to me. Same with names, it just didn't make sense to me why someone couldn't just change their name if they didn't like the one their parents gave them for whatever reason. I think of people as people, not boys and girls. Sure there are physical differences, but the meanings/genderroles we attributed to them are completely made up.

Folks love nagging me about how I draw my Ghost, but the truth is he can walk around looking like a cis girl and still be a man, I truly dgaf. So what if he's smaller and more delicate looking next to that big bear of a captain, that doesn't make him any less of a man.

The best advice I can give is you don't need to label yourself if you don't want to. You can experiment and just see what feels good. Maybe you'll find a label or make a plan along the way, but don't feel pressured to.

Common things people do is try out a different name, change their pronouns, create and play as video game characters of the opposite gender/sex (or gender non-conforming in general), listen to trans playlists/musicians, shop clothes/stuff in the other section (including underwear or things like jewelry ect), read books or watch movies about different kinds of trans characters, watch video essays about trans topics, create OCs or sonas, look at trans art and watch/read about other people's trans journeys.

Of course there are "what's my gender identity" tests you can take too, idk how helpful those are but I guess they can give you a bit more insight and maybe make you ask questions that you haven't asked yourself before.

Lastly here's a list of gender identities and definitions that might be beneficial to have a look at, as well as my trans resource list I put together last month about what can be done to change your gender in various ways

#trans resources

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lingering-nomad · 2 years ago

Text

Vent post

Went through a traumatic experience online in November. I've seen friends endure it, but I honestly didn't fully understand how much damage online bigotry could cause until I was the subject of it. I was targeted in an organized smear campaign, orchestrated by a popular member and former mod of a video game discord. Why? For befriending a gay man and shipping our ocs.

That's. It.

That was enough to get me (and him) singled out for surveillance and hate campaigns across multiple platforms.

Yes. I have receipts, but no one wants to read all that. And this is just a vent post anyway.

It got to the point of open, unprovoked hostility, which we reported. The mods would assure us they would act, but they're busy, they have lives, they can't get a call scheduled. Turns out, the delay was to allow them time to investigate the victims, because if they could find a reason, any reason, to shut up the whiny [insert slurs] their job would be so much easier.

Of course bigotry thrives in clusters, so you can't have h0mophobia without white supr3macy. I made the mistake of supporting a Native lesbian for calling out a damn egregious example of the white saviour trope seasoned with forced assimilation. Aaand that was all the mod team needed. They told them if they disclosed the DM, if they showed them what I said, they'd address the issue, they'd use it to better understand and deal with the racism.

I got the ban notice a week later.

But LN, why do you care if this place was such a shithole?

Because it turns out, I was not the only person banned that day. Turns out the mods posted a whole group chat where their bff was making UTTERLY FLASE accusations of criminality and planning a full-on mass reporting campaign against me and my friend. Why? For shipping our "evil ocs" with their "pixel vampire bf" and talking about being gay in the server's LGBTQ+ channel.

They posted the GC in the server for all to see, full of homophobia and bigotry and frothing, senseless hate, but they didn't post my message offering support to someone enduring racism in public. They did post my name, though. Along with the names of vocal bullies and bigots, but only after I was banned and couldn't voice my side. They didn't even do me the courtesy of giving me a heads-up that I was the target of a smear campaign they planned to publish. They didn't warn me they'd be posting my name to be judged for the words of racists and homophobes -- words aimed at me.

When this master plan was discovered, they allowed their good (white) friends a chance to respond. They were given chance after chance -- until they grew bold enough to include the mod team in their ridicule and that was the last straw. "We can excuse white supr3macy and h0mophobia, but we draw the line mocking the mods."

So I was ostracized and silenced and humiliated by so-called "allies" in retaliation for being the victim of harassment, which is nothing new. But what drove me to make this post, is one of them coming into my inbox 2 days before Christmas to "wish me well" and express their hope that I "don't feel resentful that they did what they had to."

I don't know which part they thought was necessary.

Deliberately failing to disclose why I was banned, so they can carry on ignoring their white supr3macy issue with impunity?

Breaking their own rules on ban procedure without so much as a parting flip of the bird?

Allowing their friend to have a final say, to defend the indefensible without showing me the same regard?

I don't know.

I never will, and I know these people will go on patting themselves on the back for their "allyship" while addressing prejudice by silencing the victims.

All I can say is, with allies like this we don't need enemies. And if you've read this far, maybe watch this video

https://youtu.be/w1vuhrFfEkE

#ln vents #plz don't reblog

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anachronistic-falsehood · 2 years ago

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🗣️❔📝 for the wip ask game!! :0

🗣️Talk about your favourite WIP

OHHHHH. DREAMSTUCK. Dreamstuck is my favourite wip, no question. It is a thriving crop and I am its loving and caring farmer. It's so cringe (affectionate) and I am so badly invested in it. It's a love letter to both source materials, Homestuck and DSMP. I love both of them, and while the original creators (Dream and Hussie) turned out to be assholes, everyone else who was involved in them poured their entire souls into these two stories and I love just. Showing that. Taking apart the best bits from the Homestuck story which is so nuanced and complicated and took great care and time to make, and placing it on these silly little Minecraft roleplay characters that have so much heart poured into their acting and storylines. I'm just. Yeah. Dreamstuck. <3

❔Choose a random WIP and talk about it.

hmmmmm. u know what. I'm taking this opportunity to rant about my Escape from Furnace wip because the fandom consists of like maybe 4 people so there's no one to talk about it to. Pull up a chair bro

ok ok. ur not gonna understand this unless you've read the books but w/e SO THERE'S THIS GUY NAMED GARY OWENS, RIGHT. He's a 17 year old and he dies in like the third book and he's an asshole who beats the shit out of people with no remorse. The only hint of a real character under all that is when he makes an offhand casual comment about his dad beating him, and later when he see him crying after the wheezers started their procedures on him, and lemme tell u. I ran with that. He survives in this AU which I have dubbed the Almost Everyone Lives AU because I also wanted to save two other characters who died. Because I love them. and I'm going to give this troubled teenager who committed patricide a good healing arc ok. He's the oldest kid who was put in Furnace Penitentiary in the time frame of the series and i think he'll definitely have a crisis about turning 18 while Alex and Zee are still like 14-15. my guy's got issues <3 my little scrimble scorblo

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context

FUCK IT. FURNACE FIC CHAPTER 7. because i haven't made any headway on my next trigun fic so i have nothing 2 post at all for that, and my humanstuck fic would make no sense out of context. SO HERE'S GARY OWENS IF U DON'T CHEER AND CLAP FOR HIM RIGHT NOW I'M BLOWING THIS WHOLE WEBSITE UP

***

“Get to the point,” Gary snaps.

Bodie just smirks. “But you’re okay. You may not have made a good leader, but you’d still make a damn good Skull.”

He sets down the crisps. Another Skull immediately snatches up the bag and digs in as Bodie rummages around in his pocket. He pulls out a black scrap of cloth, a crudely painted skull on the front. Kevin’s old bandanna, the one Gary took from him on his first day.

“It’s not like we’ll be doing much for crime from here on out anyway,” Bodie says. “Ain’t much point to it, now that the world’s gone to shit. And yous ain’t takin’ back the leadership position, that’s mine. But this is still yours if you want it. You earned it. Once a Skull, always a Skull.”

Gary stares at it in disbelief. First he finds out Bodie is still alive after their escape, and then he wants to offer Gary a spot in the Skulls again?

“You’re really just dropping bomb after bomb on me today, aren’t you?”

Bodie snorts. “Guess so. It’s alright if you don’t want it. I wouldn’t blame yous.”

Gary carefully takes the bandanna like it’s something special—which it sort of is, if he thinks about it. How many Skulls have worn this bandanna? How many members has this been passed down through, stolen from, claimed as a prize after a brawl?

He can’t think of anything to say, so he just says “Thanks.”

Bodie smiles. He slings an arm over Gary’s shoulder. “Welcome back, Owens.”

#wish i had any trigun snippets for u but alas. all i have at the moment r gay teenagers with trauma #gary is a piece of shit bastard btw i love him very much :)#diversity win! the token white boy who committed patricide is gay for one of his fellow gang members!!!!#sry this just turned into me ranting about furnace. it happens the brainworms get u sometimes #friend tag :3 #escape from furnace #eff this

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barbex · 2 years ago

Note

Happy DADWC! Excited to see you taking prompts !! Can I get “The way I feel when I’m with you…” for Fenders? (OT3s with Fenris and Anders are cool too :D)

This is such a good prompt, thank you! For @dadrunkwriting a little fenders fill once again.

---

It happened again.

Anders' breath comes in huffs, trying to catch up to his pounding heart, still wrapped in the tingling sensation of the aftershocks of an amazing orgasm. The table he's bend over isn't the most comfortable, but with Fenris lying over his back, his weight like a phantom memory of the fucking he just received, he isn't willing to change anything about the position.

This is the third time they've had sex.

It makes absolutely no sense.

Three times. And the procedure has been the same each time.

They had been on some adventure with Hawke. They were, once again, covered in blood and other things, and Fenris offered him the use of the mansion's bathtub. The first time he offered, at the stairs that would have taken Anders down to Darktown, he was sure the elf had made a joke. But he had been sincere. That was the first impossible miracle, after that, it only got more unbelievable. Stepping out of the bathroom, in a borrowed shirt that didn't quite cover his ass, Anders found himself trapped in Fenris' gaze, then pinned against the wall, and kissed harshly, until they both ran out of breath. And then Fenris bent him over the table and fucked him thoroughly. Amazingly thorough.

After the first time, Anders convinced himself that it had been a fluke, horniness caused by hormones and battle lust, or something like that.

But then it happened again. And again today.

Anders won't deny that he always found Fenris attractive, he isn't blind, after all. But the elf is also arrogant and hates mages and doesn't trust neither Anders nor Justice, and that should be enough to not want to fuck each other. And there is absolutely no reason they should look at each other like... like this.

Like right now. Anders twists his back to look over his shoulder and there they are, the greenest and deepest eyes he has ever seen. And they look at him... like that. Like this isn't just lust made from blood and adrenaline after fighting and surviving once again. Like this means something.

Fenris' expression worries Anders, he looks confused, maybe even fearful. They never talk, it's not part of their ritual it seems, but... "Are you alright?" he can't help asking.

Fenris blinks, as if the question brings him back from very far away. His eyes narrow and he falls into his general broodiness again. "What do you mean?"

"You looked..." Anders shakes his head and pushes himself up on his elbows. "Could we, maybe, talk? Like, looking at each other, your cock not in my arse, just talk? Or is this a thing for you, no speaking before and after sex?" Fenris doesn't answer, doesn't move, and Anders rolls his eyes. "Alright, I know you find me annoying at the best of times, so if you don't want to talk, fine, I can deal with that, I just want to know, okay? The sex is great and if you just want a silent hole to fill, that's —"

"I don't want just that." Fenris still presses against Anders' back, holding himself terribly still.

Anders doesn't dare to move either. Something is happening, there is a strange tension between them, and he'd be damned if he ruins what could be a turning point for both of them. "Talk to me, Fenris. Just say what you want to say."

Fenris shudders, his fingers pressing into Anders' hips. "The way I feel when I'm with you... I don't understand it."

Anders hesitates, searching for something to say or ask that could coax more honesty from Fenris. "Does it scare you?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Fenris moves, thrusting once against Anders' arse, despite his cock having softened in the meantime. "This is all I know. This is how it's done. But with you... it feels differently."

"Oh." With sudden clarity, Anders understands. "Sex was always just this, just using someone. And now you don't know how to — hang on, let me get up."

Fenris pushes himself away, slipping out of Anders' by now rather sensitive hole. He hands him a piece of cloth to clean himself and steps away, giving him lots of space. Anders wipes the result of their coupling away and walks over to Fenris' bed to sit down.

He eyes him carefully, he may overstep his boundaries, but Fenris looks more confused than angry. "Come here, it's time for a lesson."

A frown tries to settle on Fenris' forehead, but Anders gives him his brightest smile, and that seems to amuse Fenris enough that he almost grins himself. "A lesson?"

Anders pats the mattress next to him. "Yes. This will be lesson number one in 'how to show and give affection'. Come here, sit down."

Fenris slowly sits down next to him, their legs not quite touching. He clenches his fists, rhythmically, watching Anders from the corner of his eye.

"Slaves can't fall in love, can they?" Anders asks bluntly. At Fenris' frown, he hurries to continue. "I mean, of course they can fall in love romantically, but it probably isn't encouraged? Or allowed?"

Fenris clenches his fists again, and his voice is dark. "Some masters allowed their slaves to... to be intimate. But some punished..." He sighs, turning away from Anders. "I know little about these things, I was isolated. Danarius... he was everything —"

"Fuck, no, we don't want to think about that crusty bag of shit." Anders shakes himself, feeling like he needs to wash himself again. "Listen, you're not a slave anymore, you can fall in love with whoever you like. One day you're going to fall in love and nobody can stop you."

Fenris turns to him, his eyes once again deep enough to drown in. Anders breathes in and takes his face in his hands.

"First — kissing." He leans forward and gently brushes his lips over Fenris'. It's nothing compared to the angry bites Fenris gave him before, which had their own kind of allure, but Anders loves gentle kisses. "Keep it gentle," he says when Fenris starts pressing against his lips. "Now kiss down my neck, just as gently."

Anders moans as Fenris brushes over his neck, featherlight. "Mm, yes, that feels so good."

Fenris looks up, and then, still looking at Anders, kisses his nipple, and sucks carefully.

Anders gasps. "Oh, fuck yes." He surges forward to do the same to Fenris. As the elf gasps just like him, he smiles at him. "One day, you'll fall in love with someone and this is how you'll seduce them."

"One day?"

"Yes." Anders brushes white hair out of Fenris' face. "You'll fall in love and it will make you feel even more free."

"That sounds... impossible."

Fenris looks at him, and Anders can't hold his gaze. He can't allow himself this dream.

#fenders #fenders fic #Fenris x Anders #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #my writing #Fenris #Anders #dadrunkwriting #lemon

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jessikahathaway · 3 years ago

Text

Baby Talk - Part I

Hellooooo!

I've had this in my WIPs for a while and I wanted to get some of it out so that you all could enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if you want more??? Tag lists are open for all of my ongoing fics so if you want to be added just let me know!

Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Medical Procedures, Assault (not descriptive), Profanity. If I forgot anything please let me know!

Words: 11.3k (Phew chill Jess~)

This wasn’t a big deal, you thought to yourself as you signed the paperwork in the clinic.

Just, you know, getting artificially inseminated for money. Nothing weird about that right?

Becoming a surrogate wasn’t something you’d planned on in your life, mainly sticking to your job and working towards a better tomorrow or whatever they say.

You were young, healthy and full of life.

The only thing you lacked, was a full bank account.

The realization hit a little harder than you thought it would. Being a receptionist wasn’t exactly what you’d had planned for your life but, it was simple work and it made you happy.

Going to college wasn’t really ever an option for you anyways. Your parents had died in an accident when you were little, forcing you to go live with your Great Aunt until you turned eighteen. She hadn’t forced you out, but you did leave. Wanting the adventures that life had to offer.

However, you quickly realized that it wasn’t easy pickings out in the world. That’s when the notice came to the door of your apartment that you either paid your late rent in full by the date or you could get your ass out.

Fear trickled down your spine at the thought of being homeless. You briefly thought of going back to your Aunts but, she lived out in the country and the city is where you’d made your home. As much as you cared about her, it just wasn’t going to happen.

That’s when your friend Namjoon and his husband Jim invited you over for dinner.

You were beyond excited, because these two had just had their baby girl Annie.

They had used the local fertility clinic to get a surrogate and had their baby just a month prior. You had been dying to meet the little bundle ever since you heard the news they were having a baby.

God, that kid was going to be spoiled rotten.

Quickly, you had gone over and enjoyed a nice meal with the three of them. Annie still partaking in formula.

You had tried to make conversation, but your eyes kept wandering to Annie and her little hands and feet. You felt a slight clench in your chest at the sight of her round face and sweet eyes.

“Earth to Y/N? You doing alright?” Namjoon’s voice echoed through their lovely, luxe apartment.

“Y-Yeah! Fine, I’m fine,” you smiled.

“You sure?” Jin asked, getting up to take his and Namjoon’s plates to the kitchen.

“Mhmm,” you said, eyes glancing back over at the baby.

“You’re so whipped, Annie has claimed yet another victim,” Namjoon snickered, looking at the blissful gaze your eyes had taken.

“You ever want kids, Y/N?” Jin asked, coming back in with dessert for each of you.

“I guess so, I mean. Just gotta find someone to make the baby with,” you joked half heartedly.

It was no secret among your friends that you were the black sheep. Not dating, not even entertaining the notion of having a significant other. The idea was, honestly, draining.

“Don’t feel like you have to be married to have a kid, Y/N. Single parenthood is just as valid as a couple,” Jin reminded.

“I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to pop out a kid right now,” you sighed.

“No? I thought the job at the hotel was treating you well,” Namjoon said.

“Yes and no, they treat me well. But pay me next to shit... I-I gotta make some quick cash, or I’m gonna be homeless,” you whispered.

“What?!?” The two men shouted, looking at you with heartbreak in their eyes.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling! We could’ve done something!” Jin says, rubbing his face with frustration.

“No-No! It’s fine, I’ll figure it out! I always do,” you encouraged, trying to keep the fear out of your eyes.

“How far behind on rent are you?” Namjoon asked.

“A little under six grand,” you sighed.

“Y/N!” Your two friends looked distraught.

“I don’t understand how a society can function like this, I hate it,” Namjoon said, looking down at his dessert he no longer wanted.

Annie started fussing, kicking her feet and wanting attention.

Jin sighed and got up, taking his beautiful daughter with him. You and Namjoon sat in cold silence for a while. Neither of you willing to talk to the other.

You were too proud for your own good. Even if it meant crashing and burning, you’d do that before you took anyone’s pity.

“How can we help?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with so much worry.

“I really don’t know Joon, there’s no where that’ll give me that kinda money with my credit and... even if they did I couldn’t pay it back anyways,” you sighed.

“Have you thought about going to school for something? Maybe you can get a degree and, I don’t know I’m pulling at straws here,” he said.

“I can’t go to school Joon, with what money? And even worse, I wouldn’t know what to go into,” you said, swallowing down some more wine.

“I wish we could’ve had you surrogate for us. We paid that woman a small fortune. Had I known you were struggling I would, maybe you could’ve done it instead,” he said quietly.

“How much did you pay her?” You asked.

“Around $80,000,” he said, shrugging.

You choked.

“Damn you filthy rich kids,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s it!” Namjoon said.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at him in confusion and despair.

“You can’t be our surrogate, but you could be someone else’s!”

Your body ran cold at the thought.

“I-I don’t know if I could do that Joon,” you said.

“Doesn’t your family have a high chance of twins?” He said, looking at you with a smile.

“I mean, yes but-”

“Say no more. I know a couple that’s been dreaming of a baby. They actually were supposed to meet the woman who wound up being our surrogate. But she decided to go with us. Jimin and Jungkook, they’re really good people Y/N,” Namjoon said, smiling.

“Namjoon, I don’t know if I can have a stranger’s baby!”

“I mean I won’t force you to sign up or anything. But Jungkook and Jimin are really good guys who have been waiting forever to have a baby. They said they wanted twins but, most importantly they wanted a healthy child. How sweet is that!”

You worried your lower lip with your teeth. This was just ridiculous. There’s no way you’d be able to do it. No way.

“Let me show you a picture of them!” Namjoon said, pulling out his phone.

“Joon really-”

Although, before you could argue anymore, you saw their faces.

A smaller, blond man. Whose smile was brighter than any star. And a taller, lean brunette who looked at the camera with a goofy grin.

“Jimin is the blond, Jungkook is the brunette,” Namjoon explained.

“Okay?” You said, trying to calm your racing heart.

They were both handsome. Deathly so, it made your stomach clench in a weird way to look at them. You wondered what kind of babies they would make. If they had that smile Jimin was packing, no one would be safe. That child would get whatever it wanted.

“I’m just saying, it doesn't have to be them but they’ve wanted a baby for so long and... you could help them with that and get a lump sum of cash on the side. Bad a bing bad a boom! No worries!”

It wasn’t such a hard decision in the end.

You needed the money.

So walking into the clinic had this weird sense of finality to it.

The receptionist looked at you with a smile.

“Hello dear, how can I help you?” She said.

“I-uh, wanted to sign up to be a potential surrogate?” You said, wringing your hands together.

“Of course! Did you bring your medical records and things of the like?”

You nodded quickly, handing over the required paperwork. She clicked away on her keyboard and got you all signed up and ready to go. Soon, you were getting your preliminary check up to see if you were able to have children.

Although your period had some irregularities in the past, the doctor’s said it was probably due to stress and the balancing out of hormones. But it would all work out, you were healthy and fertile!

You managed to tell Namjoon that you signed up without him having a full blown heart attack.

“How long until you need to be out of the apartment?” He asked, sipping his coffee.

“I need to be out in three weeks,” you said softly.

“Well shit you’re kinda on a time crunch there sweets, but don’t worry, you can do it! I’ll let Jimin and Jungkook know that you signed up, they’ll want to meet you. I know it,” he said.

“Namjoon, it’s okay. I don’t care who I surrogate for, as long as it’s soon,” you said, trying to keep your heart rate under control.

“Okay, but Y/N, I’m telling you. They’d be the perfect fit for you!” He said.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The days to come would be challenging no doubt.

—

You were rather popular at the fertility clinic it seemed, because you’d had three meetings already.

One was a couple that had been trying for years and it just wasn’t happening so they were resorting to a different method. Although for this one they wanted to do an egg implantation. You weren’t sure you wanted to do that.

Another was an older couple who looked like they were just planning on having kids but their own clocks ran out.

But finally, you got one more call from the clinic.

“Miss Y/N, you’ve got another request for a meeting,” the receptionist on the other line said.

“Oh? With whom?” You asked.

“A Mr. Park Jimin and a Mr. Jeon Jungkook, they asked for you personally,” she said, tone light.

You almost spit out your drink.

Th-They had asked for you?

The fertility clinic was big, a huge database of surrogates and people willing to conceive for the right price.

But they had asked to meet you.

Personally.

“Miss Y/N? Still there?” The receptionist asked, sounding far away from you.

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” you said, coughing.

“Wonderful, they said if you were willing they’d like to treat you to a meal, of course I can’t give out your contact information without consent from you but if you’re willing to meet with them we can arrange this.”

You heard yourself agree before even thinking about it.

Soon, you were on your way to the higher end of town. Heading towards a good Korean Barbeque place that was notorious for having the best meat in town.

Walking in you looked around, noticing how luxurious the place was. It made you feel a little out of place to be honest. But, not letting that get to you the host came up and asked for your name.

“Miss Y/N, ah yes. You’re with the Jeon party, lovely. Come right this way,” he said, taking you back into the bowels of the beast it seemed.

Winding through tables and chairs you found yourself in front of a private room. You didn’t want to think about how much this cost, so you simply just let your mind wander to other fun topics.

Such as the fact that you were potentially meeting your surrogate partners.

“Mr. Jeon? Mr. Park? A Miss Y/N is here for you,” the host said, through the door.

“Let her in,” a higher pitched male voice said.

You bit your lip and waited as the door opened. You looked inside and saw a beautiful wooden table, laid out with the finest meats and other various types of noodles and food. Then, there was the other feast, one for your eyes.

Park Jimin was a smaller man, but so incredibly handsome it made your head swirl. His soft blond hair tucked under a beanie as he looked up at you with what could only be called wonder. He looked at you gently, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Jeon Jungkook was a different story. Lean but cut, tiny waist accentuated by his pants. His arms were strong looking and one was covered in tattoos. His hair was pulled away from his face in a precious man bun that made your heart stutter. His eyes were big and glassy, looking at you. As if breathing you in.

“Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m Y/N.”

“We know,” Jimin said with a gentle smile.

“Come, sit down,” Jungkook said, moving a chair out for you to sit.

“Okay,” you agreed, moving to sit down.

“Get whatever you want,” Jimin encouraged, handing you the menu politely.

“Thank you,” you blushed, trying to not faint with his eyes on you like that.

Ordering a few things for yourself the three of you sat there with awkward silence filling the space. Jungkook wouldn’t really look at you and Jimin seemed like he was too nervous to start.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “How long have you two been together?” You asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Five years,” Jungkook said, placing his hand over his glass.

“Oh wow, congratulations,” you said, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed.

“Our friend Namjoon said you were kind of in a tight spot and needed some help financially, is this true?” Jungkook asked, finally glancing your way.

“Y-Yeah, I wish he wouldn’t just tell other people that but, no sense in denying the truth. I’m almost six grand behind on rent,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Both of their faces fell, looking at each other in worry.

“It-It’s okay though! I’ll be okay, I always am,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/N, I would be scared shitless if I were you,” Jungkook said, taking slow drinks from his glass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to avoid the stinging in your eyes.

“What do you do for work?” Jimin asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning to dark.

“I’m a receptionist at the local hotel. It’s not much, but I really like it,” you said, a grin taking place on your face.

“Hey, if you like it then that means something,” Jimin encouraged.

“So, you two want to have a baby?” You said, trying to get down to the topic at hand.

“Yes, more than anything,” Jimin said, a wistful look crossing his face.

“That’s amazing, to love each other that much and want to build a family is... Super important,” you said, meaning every word.

“What does your family do, Y/N? Do they live here in the city?”

You awkwardly rubbed your hands together.

“Um, my Great Aunt lives out in the country. But, my parents and most of my other relatives have passed on,” you said, trying to hide the emotion that came up.

“Oh, so sorry for your loss,” Jungkook said, face pinching.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you whispered.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jimin argued.

“You’re right, but, it’s okay,” you said.

“So, you have a high chance for twins,” Jungkook said, looking at some papers you didn’t notice were on the table.

“Yes, my mother was a twin. It runs way back in my family,” you said.

“Jimin has a good chance of having twins as well,” Jungkook said, gesturing to his loving partner.

“I do I do,” he said with a grin.

“Do you two want a set of twins?” You asked.

“It’s preferred but not necessary. As long as we get a baby, that’s all that matters,” Jungkook said.

Soon, the food was delivered and Jungkook and Jimin insisted on cooking the food for you. Something about not stressing you out too much.

After a full meal, you leaned back and let your head fall comfortably. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance at each other.

‘She’s the one,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook smiled and nodded back.

“Thank you for the meal, I really do appreciate it. I haven’t eaten like that in months,” you said.

“Well, if you want to have our baby, we would gladly provide you with all the food you could want,” Jimin said.

“T-That’s alright, it wouldn’t be necessary-”

“Yes it would, Y/N. If you carry our child that means we’re responsible for you, everything you need or want will be yours. We swear,” Jungkook said.

“Right,” you swallowed thickly.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jimin asked.

“I-I’ve never really been one for dependence on other people. You know? I like to do things myself if I can,” you said.

“Well, we wouldn’t force you to do anything of course but, if you did want or need anything, we would be more than happy to provide you with it,” Jungkook said.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you said.

“You’d be carrying our child,” Jimin said as if it were obvious.

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Hey, if you don’t want to do this then don’t feel pressured. Don’t let money be an object in what you want to do with your life. It’s not healthy,” Jimin said.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“Well, I think it’s time to get going. I know you’ve met with other couples that have no doubt tried to convince you they’re the best option but... I really hope you chose us Y/N. You’d be the perfect surrogate for us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with a softened gaze.

And you knew it too.

You knew they were the couple you wanted to surrogate for, even if it cost you everything. You knew they deserved it. Not that any of the other families you had spoken to didn’t, but, they were the ones for you.

Your fertile window and ovulation were coming up so you had to make a choice and soon.

You’d met with the doctors at the clinic and they said that they were just waiting on you. Whomever you picked would have a meeting with you before the insemination on the rules and what you would have to do in regards to taking care of yourself. And then the money would be yours in full.

Calling the clinic you told them your answer.

“I would like to surrogate for Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park,” you said.

“Alrighty, I will give them a call and set up the appointment for them to get their end of the deal all set up and then we can get you all ready to go!” The receptionist said.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you said before hanging up.

Namjoon and Jin invited you over wanting to hear the news of everything going on with you.

And you couldn’t wait to see Annie again.

“Aw, you’re getting so big!” You said as you were greeted by Annie’s face in Jin’s arms.

“Yes she is!” Jin agreed. The cooing baby leaned forward, moving to capture your hair in her little fist.

You laughed and took her from Jin easily, he didn’t fight you and let you have your time with her. Rocking and bouncing her on your hip while the pair of them talked in the dining room.

Soon, a knocking came to the door.

Confusion swept over you, but regardless, you went to answer the door anyways.

Annie still on your hip, you opened the door to reveal Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, your new surrogate partners.

Frozen in shock the two of them looked at you as if they were equally confused.

You wondered if the clinic had told them you picked them yet. You had just gotten off the phone with them today, so you weren’t. Jungkook’s face went to you to Annie and then back to you.

“H-Hi?” You whispered.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Came to have dinner with Jinnie and Joon, and Annie of course,” you smiled, raising the little one up on your hip more.

“Oh, did you know we were coming?” Jungkook asked.

“No, I had no idea,” you said.

“Ah! Are those the boys?” Jin’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

“Yes!” You yelled back.

“Let them in Y/N! We invited them over too!” Namjoon said.

“Please come in,” you said, moving out of their way as the couple greeted Jin and Namjoon fondly.

It appeared as though there were no hard feelings in regards to them getting a surrogate they wanted. But, you could see Jungkook’s longing on his face when he looked at Annie in your arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Jimin said, looking down at Annie as you rocked her to sleep.

“Mhmm, gorgeous. She’ll be stealing hearts just like her dads,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, keeping his eyes trained on the little one in your arms.

“Did you make your decision yet? It said on your profile that your ovulation window was coming up and I was just curious,” he said quietly.

“I did,” you said.

Jimin’s face fell.

“I see,” he swallowed.

“Jimin-”

“Alright you two, paws off the baby, my turn!” Namjoon said, walking in.

You handed the sleeping baby over without a fuss before you and Jimin both walked out into the living room. Jimin whispered something to Jungkook and his face dropped. But you couldn’t find the words in your mouth. You wanted to tell them you picked them. You moved to talk to them when you felt Jin’s presence behind you.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jin asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was getting later, and you were feeling sleepy from all the food you’d eaten during the night.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at your sleepy form and their hearts broke all over again.

“I can’t believe she didn’t pick us,” Jungkook said, face betraying how he felt.

“Babe, you can’t force her. I-I thought we had a good chance but,” Jimin sighed.

“I don’t want to keep looking for a surrogate if this is going to happen every time,” Jungkook said, pain coming through in his voice.

“Jungkook you know how badly I want this too right? It’s not just you hurting here,” Jimin said.

“We’ve been trying for two years to find a surrogate and when we find one we want, they always pick someone else. Why? Are we that undesirable? I don’t understand,” Jungkook sighed.

“It’s not that,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe it’s just not our turn yet.”

“When is it gonna be our turn, huh?” Jungkook said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“We can’t give up,” Jimin said softly. “I don’t want to give up yet.”

“I know baby,” Jungkook said, kissing Jimin’s cheek softly.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. These poor men were really hurting for a baby. A family to call their own.

Sitting up Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in fear.

“Y/N? Y-You were awake-oh God I’m so sorry you had to hear that-” Jimin said frantically.

“I picked you two,” you said.

Their eyes shot up to meet yours.

Jungkook’s were glossy from unshed tears and Jimin’s were widening by the second.

“You what?”

“I said I picked you two. I want to surrogate for you two,” you explained.

“But-in the nursery you said-” Jimin started.

“I said I had picked someone, I didn’t say who silly,” you smiled.

“Oh thank you Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming over to hold your hand in his.

“You don’t know what this means to us,” Jimin said.

“I know you two want this baby more than anything, I want to give it to you. Honestly, you two have waited long enough,” you said, heart stammering at the look of hope in their eyes.

“You’re perfect Y/N! Seriously!” Jimin cried, holding onto Jungkook for dear life.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m supposed to go in for the, you know, business end of it on Monday. They said they’d call you tomorrow. I just gave my answer today,” you told them.

“Okay, alright sounds good,” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“You gonna be okay?” You asked, looking at the two of them.

“Of course, more than okay.”

—

Monday creeped up on you quickly, faster than you thought.

You went to the clinic and sat down, getting signed in and everything before you saw Jungkook and Jimin waltz in looking like a million bucks.

Dressed head to toe in designer clothing, you realized you didn’t know what they did for a living. You hadn’t really looked at their profiles all that much. But you knew their baby would have everything they could ever want and more.

Smiling at them and waving, the two of them made their way over to you.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down in the chair next to you.

“Just waiting,” you said, looking at the pair of them together.

They looked like the traditional power couple. Strong, dependable and handsome to boot. It was kind of overwhelming.

Jungkook was wringing his hands together, biting his lip as he looked around the room.

“You alright Jungkook?”

“Yeah just-”

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park and Miss Y/N? The legal assistant will see you now,” a voice from the corner called.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and heading towards the back room.

You sat down and the rules of the road were laid out.

If you signed the contract Jimin and Jungkook were the parents of the child. You had no rights unless they said otherwise. You would be given a lump sum of money, transferred into your bank account the day they know you’re pregnant and expecting. If anything happens to the baby such as a miscarriage or something of the like that you had no control over, you would be able to keep the money. But, they would like to try again to see if the next one stuck better.

“So, if you conceive twins, which your likelihood is good, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park have agreed to pay you double,” you almost choked on your drink.

Double?

“What?” You squeaked out.

“It’s written right here,” the legal assistant said, pointing to the document in her hands.

“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable.

“The total of your payment will come to $153,000 dollars,” the legal assistant said. “If you conceive twins.”

Your head swirled.

What would you do with all that money? Jimin and Jungkook looked at you with worry.

“I-Is it not enough? We can give you more if you want-”

“No! No no, that is totally acceptable. More than,” you said.

“Okay, just making sure,” Jimin answered.

“If you would please initial here, Miss Y/N. And then a signature here at the bottom and then you two will also need to sign as well,” she said.

After all the paperwork was done your date for insemination was set.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at you as you walked out of the clinic.

“Hey! Y/N! Hold on,” Jungkook said, walking forward.

“Huh? What is it?” You asked turning around.

Jungkook’s bright eyes blinded you as he gazed into your own. But you kept your breathing steady as you could.

“Do you want a ride home? Jimin and I cleared our schedules so we could be here today, and... Well we don’t want you to get hurt or anything,” he said, pointing to the black suburban.

“Oh, it’s alright I was gonna go to the bookstore and get a few things and then head home but I’ll be fine, no worries,” you smiled.

“We insist, Y/N,” Jimin said, walking forward to take his partner’s hand.

“Um, well... It’s really not that far, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” you said.

“Well, if you’re really sure,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you two on Thursday right? That’s when I’m supposed to... Well, you know,” your said, looking down at your feet.

“Of course! If you want us to be there that is,” Jimin said.

“Yes, it’s your baby,” you said.

“Okay, we’ll see you Thursday then,” Jungkook agreed, waving at you before he and Jimin got into the suburban and left.

But you couldn’t help the feeling you had as you watched them drive away.

Sadness.

—

You walked into the clinic Thursday morning, sweat pooling in your palms. You were reaching the end of your wire at your apartment. And you weren’t going to get the money in time. You were worried and didn’t want to bother Namjoon and Jin... So you just kept it to yourself.

You felt the fear and worry eating you up inside as you sat in the waiting room.

The doctor called your name and you headed back towards the room, when someone shouted your name.

Jimin and Jungkook were there, smiling brightly at you.

Your heart eased at seeing the two men, so happy and radiant. Everything you weren’t currently. But, knowing you were giving them something so important really made you feel better. Even if it was just for the time being.

“Oh my gosh, we’re finally getting a baby!” Jimin squeaked.

“Easy, it’s probably not going to happen first try,” you reminded him of what the doctor said.

“Bet I could get you pregnant in one shot,” Jungkook smirked.

“Oh shush Kook. But if you got her pregnant you wouldn’t get those twins you want so badly now would you, butthead,” Jimin said, shoving the younger man around slightly.

You tried to keep yourself from blushing but the redness that twinged your cheeks was there regardless. You were here to get pregnant, that was the end goal of today.

“Alright, Miss Y/N, we’re going to take you back and get you all set and then Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon have said they wanted to take you home after. Is that alright with you?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, that’s fine,” you said.

“Okay, let’s head back then,” Jungkook gave you a gentle smile before Jimin came forward and gave your knuckles a quick kiss.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said.

“Thanks,” you answered before heading back.

The whole process took around a hour and a half, most of it waiting.

The sensation wasn’t too bad, but you were a little uncomfortable. Everything was super sterile and not how you expected you’d get pregnant, but... It wasn’t your baby at the end of the day. You tried not to wiggle as you laid there, letting Jimin’s seed try to impregnate you.

Finally, the timer went off and you were allowed to leave to go home.

Jimin and Jungkook were sat in the waiting room, chatting with each other excitedly. You knew that this was it, that they were more than perfect for this baby. You were beyond happy you could give it to them.

“Y/N!” Jimin said, walking up to greet you.

“Hey,” you said easily, noticing Jungkook come up behind him.

“We’re here to take you home!” Jimin smiled.

“Thanks guys,” you said softly.

“We brought the car around already so you don’t have to walk too much. Don’t wanna spoil all our hard work,” Jimin said, looking at your tummy with affection.

“Like I said Jimin, it probably won’t happen this time. But you never know, you might have some strong swimmers,” you joked.

“You have no idea, Y/N,” he said, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat. He looked like an angel wrapped in sin, as if he were so good yet so bad for you. It made your head spin.

Jungkook held the car door open for you and you got in carefully. Jimin sat in the back with you while Jungkook sat up front.

Of course these two had a driver...

Jimin was looking out the window and noticed that they were getting into the sketchier part of town. His worry was eating him alive. He didn’t want the mother of his child staying here! That simply wouldn’t do.

You got out of the car, heading towards your apartment when the landlord approached you. Jungkook and Jimin were still getting out of the car when he exploded at you.

“There’s the little bitch now!” He growled, grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully.

You yelped, trying not to move so much. It only made it hurt more.

“Let me go!” You said.

“You filthy cunt, you owe me almost six thousand dollars! And you dare to come back here without anything? Huh? Nothing? Where have you been huh? Selling your body to make some cash I bet, that’s what little whore’s like you do right? Fucking pathetic,” he spits at you.

“I-I just need a little more time-” a resounding smack is heard through the parking lot.

Jimin and Jungkook look up to see your head turned sharply to the side and a man gripping your wrist.

Both of the men flew off the handle.

“Let go of her you fucker!” Jungkook yelled, walking forward with purpose.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jimin growled, pulling you away from the man.

“Did you fucking hit her?” Jungkook said, looking at your reddened cheek.

“Bitch owes me money, she knows that-”

“Fucker!” Jungkook snarled, grabbing the man by his shirt and lifting him.

“Y/N? Sweetie can you hear me?” Jimin whispered. Your head was swimming with pain and discomfort. Your cheek was screaming at you. But what hurt worse was the embarrassment. They saw it all, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. How on earth were you going to take care of a baby if you got pregnant for nine months? Huh?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, he hurt you. Jungkook put him down and call the cops,” Jimin said.

“I owe him money, I just-”

“You can’t arrest me! You fuckheads, do you know who I am?” He asked.

“Do you know who we are? Hi I’m Jeon Jungkook, heir to the Jeon Law Firm here in the city. You might have heard of us, and she is the mother of my future child and you won’t be putting your hands on her ever again,” Jungkook said.

“I just wanna leave, I don’t... I don’t wanna be here,” you whimpered.

“But Y/N,” Jimin said.

“Can we leave? Please?” You begged, looking up at him with a swollen cheek and glossy eyes. Jimin’s heart broke five times over, seeing you so upset.

“Jungkook, come on. Let’s go,” Jimin said.

“And leave her with this fucking piece of shit? I think not, no we’re going to-Y/N? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked, coming forward and looking at your face with a tenderness you didn’t know was there.

“We’ll take her home with us,” Jimin said easily.

“Okay, yeah. But we’re calling the cops on that dickbag when we get back. I want him arrested for hurting her,” Jungkook said with finality.

“Of course baby,” Jimin said, soothing the younger male.

“Can we just go?” You asked, looking up at them for a moment.

“Yes, of course we can, let’s get you in the car and go back to our place,” Jungkook said, coming forward and getting into the back seat this time. Jimin encouraged you to get inside, so you did, him following shortly thereafter.

“Take us home please,” Jungkook said, shutting the little window between the front of the car and the back.

You sat between the two men, each of them looking out the window and appearing to be deep in thought. You were as well. You hoped this didn’t affect your chances of getting pregnant. You don’t know what you’d do if you couldn’t get this baby. The prospect of so much money on the line, you very future.

Also, you worried for Jungkook and Jimin. You really wanted this to work for their sake too.

They’d been waiting so long.

You were swallowed into the dreamscape of your thoughts. Nothing really getting in or out of your mind. You were just reeling at everything that had happened in less than four hours. You had your first attempt at insemination, went home and got assaulted and now you were heading to the upper end of the city with the two men who wanted you to have a baby for them.

This was all so much to handle.

Finally, the car stopped moving and Jimin quickly ushered you out of the vehicle. You stood there and looked up at the stunning building with a weird sense of fear. It loomed over you, almost intimidatingly so.

Jimin told the driver to go park the car and take the rest of the day off while Jungkook gathered their things from the back. You looked around and noticed that people were staring at you.

No doubt you looked like a sore pink thumb right now. Tear stained and swollen cheeks making you look even more outlandish in the area. But, Jungkook quickly moved everyone inside.

The door man asked who you were and Jimin and Jungkook simply told the truth.

“She’s our surrogate, we’re having her stay with us for a while. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it!” Jimin said.

“Absolutely Mr. Park,” the doorman said.

“Come on Y/N,” Jungkook said, heading towards the elevator.

You followed behind them quickly, getting in the mirrored elevator. Looking at yourself you felt all the anxiety and fear come back. You didn’t belong here, you were wearing a pair of fucked up jeans, a flannel and t-shirt. They were dressed in beautiful clothing, dipped in the finest silks and satins.

You looked like a charity case no doubt.

It made your stomach churn in discomfort. But you kept your mouth shut. You were providing them with a service. And in turn they were paying you. It was a give and take situation. But you couldn’t help but feel as though you were taking more than you were giving.

Jungkook held the door while you and Jimin entered the house. You looked around and the apartment was massive. Bigger than your Aunt’s tiny house in the country. You wondered just how much money these two had.

Soon, Jimin was sitting you down on the couch and tending to your cheek. His heart crumpled when you flinched at his touch. He tried not to take it personally, you were literally just assaulted. But he hoped you weren’t scared of him, or Jungkook.

“Should I call the doctor?” Jungkook asked, coming in and sitting next to Jimin.

“No, she’s just a little swollen, she’ll be alright,” Jimin said, handing you the painkillers and some ice.

“Can she have that?” Jungkook asked, referring to the pain medicine.

“It’s acetaminophen she can have it,” Jimin confirmed.

“Okay,” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, looking at you for any signs of discomfort.

“Not particularly, but I should eat. Especially today,” you said, a weak smile on your face. Jimin nodded, but headed towards the kitchen regardless.

Soon after, a wonderful aroma filled the apartment. But you hadn’t moved from the couch, keeping your eyes trained on the TV Jimin turned on for you. You didn’t particularly want to watch the news, but you weren’t sure on how to work this TV. It made your brain hurt. But, whatever, you kept your eyes on the screen, not looking anywhere in particular.

Jimin soon came out, wearing a smile that must be a signature for him or something. He told you dinner was ready and to follow him. Turning off the TV with a swipe of his finger on the screen you marveled at the technology.

He patted your cheek and brought you into the dining room.

Jungkook was finishing putting the food out when you sat down. He and Jimin were deep in conversation. You picked at your food, eating a few pieces if Jimin put them on your plate. But other than that, you sat unmoving in the corner.

You supposed you were still in shock of what had happened today.

Soon, you felt the distinct cramping in your lower stomach, something you were told is to be expected. Especially if the pregnancy took. Letting out a puff of air, you held your stomach. It wasn’t terrible, but the discomfort had you adjusting in your seat.

Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, carefully observing you.

“Everything alright? Y/N?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in a cute way.

Forcing a smile you nodded.

“Yeah, just cramping a little bit,” you said, keeping your hands together underneath the table.

“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked, leaning towards you.

“No-ah!” You said, clutching your stomach. It didn’t hurt as much as it caught you off guard. But the two men were beside you in seconds.

“Y/N? Do you want us to call the doctor?”

“Is there something we can get for you? Do you want more pain medicine?”

“N-No, honestly, I’m okay,” you said, giving them each a squeeze to their wrist.

Jimin nodded, standing up and moved to start cleaning up the meal. Jungkook placed a couple more pieces of meat on your plate, asking you to eat them. He thought it could help your cramping, but he mainly just wanted to see you eat something.

Soon, the pair of them had cleaned up the meal and had gathered some clothes for you to wear to bed.

“We’ll pick up some stuff for you to wear tomorrow,” Jungkook said smiling.

“N-No that’s alright I can go back and get my stuff,” you said.

“You’re not going anywhere near that building,” Jimin warned, voice low.

“What? I have to get my stuff-”

“We’ll have someone go collect your things and bring them back here,” Jimin said, careful.

“I can go it’s not a big deal-”

“Y/N, please, just let us take care of this,” Jungkook said, quietly coming over to your side.

You were far too tired to argue. But you already felt like a cat in a cage. So you waved off the disagreement and decided to just head to bed.

The cramping was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been when you were at the table. Laying down helped, but you felt something in your underwear.

Quickly, you went to the bathroom and noticed some blood in your underwear. Biting your lip, you tried to keep yourself from panicking. Putting them back on you went to living room and found Jimin sitting on the couch, looking tired.

“J-Jimin,” you said quietly.

His head snapped up and he gave you a little smile.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, coming towards you. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.

“I-I was bleeding,” you said, voice straining slightly.

“You were? Where?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“M-My, uh, I found it in my underwear,” you said, breathing in deeply.

“Was it a lot?” He asked, keeping a cool exterior.

“N-No, not a lot but it worried me,” you said, trying to keep yourself from freaking out on him.

“It’s normal to spot a little after the IUI, don’t worry. But tell me if anymore happens. They did just shove a tube up your business,” he said, laughing lightly.

Immediately you were put at ease. Sensing your relief, Jimin patted your shoulder.

“It’s okay to be nervous, we are,” Jimin said, nodding towards the closed door you assumed was to their bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m-I just really want this to work,” you confessed, feeling yourself relax a bit.

“We do too, more than anything,” Jimin answered, giving you a genuine grin.

“I’m glad that the baby will have you two as parents, makes me feel good knowing that they’ll be taken care of,” you smiled back.

Jimin’s face seemed to morph into a look of joy and agony at the same time.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Jungkook and I are beyond excited,” he explained.

“Have you always wanted to be a father?” You asked him, out of the blue. Jimin blushed and looked down at his feet.

“Y-Yeah, ever since I was little I always wanted a family to call my own. And when I met Jungkook I knew it was just meant to be you know? Like, everything just made sense,” he said, a sheepish look taking over his features.

“That’s so sweet,” you gushed.

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged.

“I want someone to look at me the way you look at Jungkook, like I’m their whole world and more. I’ve never been one for dating though,” you said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

“No? How many boyfriends or girlfriends have you had?” Jimin asked, not thinking. When the shocked look took over your face he back peddled. “I-I shouldn’t have asked, that doesn’t deem your worth or anything like that-”

“None,” you said, blushing bright red.

Jimin’s face changed.

“Tell me if I’m out of line here, but have you ever, uh... You know, um,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh? Sex? Yeah, I’ve done it before, but it wasn’t really anything special. I don’t even think I-um... Nevermind,” you said, biting your lip hard.

“You don’t think you what? You didn’t cum?” Jimin said, as if he were shocked.

“No! Now keep your voice down!” You yelped.

Jimin frowned.

“That’s horrible, you deserve better,” Jimin said matter of factly.

“It happens, but, this conversation has gotten away from us,” you said, trying to steer it away from your pathetic sex life and more towards the fact that you both need to go to bed. “I’m tired, had a long day.” You said, rubbing your arms.

“Of course, absolutely! If you need anything or something happens, our room is right here just come get us,” Jimin said.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning, but not before you wished him a good night.

Jimin gave you a small smile. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

—

Soon your stuff was all moved into the boys apartment. You questioned when you would be leaving, but the boys said that you didn’t have to worry about departing for the foreseeable future.

They had originally wanted you to live with them if and when they found out you were pregnant, that way they could be there through it all. But, these stages after the insemination could be hard on you and they decided to keep you with them.

You felt like a little kid half the time, but you had to call in to work often because of these appointments. And quickly, they tired of it.

“Y/N, we love you and we want you to pick here to work, but honestly your attendance is a severe issue right now,” your supervisor said over the phone. You called in that day because you just were feeling super exhausted.

You hadn’t told them you’d signed up for a surrogacy. You weren’t sure how that would go over, but, maybe you had to if you wanted to save your job.

“I-I’m calling in all the time because I’m trying to get pregnant,” you said softly.

Laughter came from the other side of the phone.

You were being laughed at.

“Oh my God, Y/N, that’s hilarious! But seriously, I have to put you on a two week suspension without pay because-”

“Dawn, I'm serious. I signed up with the fertility clinic and I’m currently trying to become a surrogate for a lovely couple,” you said, honestly.

“Y/N, why did you sign up for that? As far as any of us knew, you weren’t that into kids,” Dawn said over the phone.

“I-I like kids, but the baby won’t be mine to keep. The couple gets to keep them once they are born. I lose all rights as a parent,” you explained.

“That’s kinda cruel... Let you carry the baby for nine months then force you to leave them. I don’t know if I could do that,” she said.

“I-It’s the way it is,” you said. “But I need to have the day off, I have an appointment at the clinic.”

“Y/N, would it be easier if we just let you quit?” Dawn said.

“What?!” You shrieked into the phone.

“Well, it’s a delicate time and we'd have you working on your feet for long hours. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby,” she said, sounding sad.

“But I don’t wanna leave you guys,” you whimpered.

“Well, once the little tike is born come back. We’ll hire you back, I promise. If you want to come back,” she offered.

“Y-You’ll really let me come back?” You said, biting your lip.

It would be nice to just focus on the pregnancy and helping Jungkook and Jimin. If you had the option, maybe it would be better to take her advice and go back when you were ready. Hopefully they don’t screw you over.

“Of course we will! We love you! But, right now isn’t the best time for you to be working. Focus on you and your little bundle okay? We’ll be waiting,” she said.

“Oh thank you Dawn! I love you guys too!”

After a little tears ‘see you later’, you hung up.

Soon, a soft knock came to your door. Looking up you saw Jungkook there, dressed to the nines looking at you. Raising a brow you assessed the situation.

“What’s up?” You said, setting your phone down to give him your undivided attention.

“I was wondering if you needed a ride to work, you’re already an hour late,” he said, pointing to the clock on your wall.

“Oh, about that,” you said, rubbing your hands together.

“Did something happen? Did they fire you for being our surrogate? Oh just let me make one phone call, that’s illegal! I’m a lawyer, let me talk some sense into them!” Jungkook said, turning to walk out.

“No, Jungkook! It’s fine, they told me to take the time off. To spend time focusing on myself and to take care of the baby,” you explained. “My job will be there when I’m ready to return.”

Jungkook stopped and looked at you. His features softened before nodding.

“Okay, but if they try to tell you you can’t go back when you’re ready, you just tell me. I won’t let anyone disrespect or lie to you,” he said, a stern look on his face.

“Thanks Jungkook, that means a lot,” you said, giving a smile.

“There’s food in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. You have the house to yourself so, do whatever you want,” Jungkook said, waving before walking out of your room.

You sat there for a minute, really mulling over what you wanted to do. Honestly, you were so sore and tired you just wanted to fall back asleep. But you decided that it was better to get up and do some activity. Hopefully that would be okay.

It had been about ten days since your IUI appointment and you were mainly just tired. Although fatigue was a symptom of an attachment. But that was the only symptom you were having, you were meant to test in a couple days to see if you were pregnant, but something had you worried.

If you weren’t pregnant, you’d have to wait a whole other month. They did tell you that sometimes it took multiple tries to successfully impregnate someone. But you really wanted this to work, you just wanted to get this going.

That way Jimin and Jungkook could have their baby already.

You knew they’d be amazing fathers, already with their dutiful actions towards you. So willing to do whatever you asked, but you tried your best not to pester them too much. You tried to make it as though you weren’t even there. But they insisted you join them for dinner so they could make sure you were eating well.

For your day you mainly just puttered around the house, picking up and doing little things that wouldn’t aggravate you. So, you settled down with a book in your hands and soft music playing in the background.

That’s how Jimin and Jungkook found you when they came home. Curled up on the couch with a novel between your fingers. Jimin smiled softly, looking at the picturesque scene.

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jungkook asked, looking at his boyfriend with apprehension.

“I hope so,” Jimin answered.

“She’s really tired lately, sleeping late and going to bed early. That’s a sign, right?” Jungkook said.

“It is, but that’s also a sign of a woman’s period coming up,” Jimin warned.

“Damn...” Jungkook said, rubbing his face.

“But I don’t know, she’s due to test soon so, we might have our baby,” Jimin soothed.

You looked up from your book, noticing the pair in the entryway. Giving them a shy smile, you waved, nose getting buried back in the book. Jimin laughed lightly, heading towards the kitchen.

The two cooked dinner, making something easy to digest. Your stomach was on the fritz yesterday so they want to make sure they don’t upset your sensitive tummy. But, as Jimin looked out at you reading on the couch, a blanket draped along your lap. He couldn’t help but love the domesticity of it all. You looked at peace, in your element and comfortable.

Jimin hoped it would stay that way. With you, comfy and cared for.

Jungkook rushed past with the boiling soup in his hands, moving quick like a little kid to set the table for you all. Jimin just laughed, smacking his butt when he came back.

“Hey! Paws off,” Jungkook pouted.

“Hmm? That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Jimin laughed at the scandalized look on Jungkook’s face. “I’m kidding, come on go get Y/N so we can eat.”

Jungkook went to gather you from the living room and was met with an unusual sight. You passed out, wrapped in the blanket with your book on the floor.

He smiled, moving towards you slowly. He placed a soft hand on your head, patting your hair gently. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Jungkook helped you up, leading you to the dining room.

The meal was quiet, Jungkook and Jimin making small talk with you, but mostly you were just eating peacefully.

You ate well and leaned back, as you tended to do when you were full and let out a huff. Jimin repressed the smile on his face with the back of his hand. Jungkook smiled openly, looking at your sleepy form.

Sitting back up you took a few more swallows of water before you stood up and thanked them for the meal and headed towards your room.

Jungkook and Jimin watched you go, each having a weird tightening in their chest at the sight of your swaying hips.

—

You had finally reached the two week mark.

Time to test.

Jimin and Jungkook went with you, driving you to the clinic for your appointment at the ass crack of dawn it felt like.

Jimin was chatting excitedly in the front seat with Jungkook. You could see the looks of love on their faces as they talked about their future with their child. It made butterflies rise in your stomach.

Quickly smacking your cheeks, you tried to forget the sensation of hope building in your belly.

Soon you were all at the clinic, Jimin helping you out of the car. The two men walked on either side of you, making sure everyone knew who you were here with. It made you feel protected, watched over.

Important.

After all the paperwork was done for the visit, Jungkook and Jimin sat down next to you. They interlocked their hands, smiling brightly at each other. You locked your hands together and looked down at them.

“Miss Y/N? Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon? Are you all ready?” A nurse called and you all headed back to a secluded room, a few chairs and the like ready. You saw the needles and everything set up and you swallowed hard.

You hated needles, with a passion.

But you’d done it before, so you’d do it again.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jungkook asked, looking at your paling face.

“Y-yeah, nervous around needles,” you confessed.

“Oh, do you want some water or something?”

“No I’m okay,” you encouraged.

“If you’re sure,” Jungkook said, looking like he wanted to do more...

“Alright! We’re gonna take some blood and a urine sample, so if you two would just wait outside for a moment while we get her changed, then you can come back in if you want,” the nurse explained.

You got changed and hopped up on the table.

They asked a bunch of questions, all fairly standard. Then they brought out the needles. Jimin saw you flinch when the packaging came off and you saw the syringe come closer.

“Hang on,” Jimin said, standing up.

The nurse stopped and looked up in confusion, that’s when Jimin took your hand in his and squeezed.

“You can hold my hand while they take your blood okay? Just squeeze if you need to,” he said, looking at your face for any signs of resistance.

You bit your lip and nodded.

The nurse took your blood quickly, getting a few vials full. Jungkook watched as his boyfriend held your hand the whole time, keeping you calm and at ease.

He hoped with everything he was that this had worked.

God, he wanted it to work so bad.

Soon, the two men were being ushered out of the room so you could do your urine sample.

After everything was done and over with, you got dressed and went to the waiting room. Jimin and Jungkook stood up when they saw you, waving you over to sit with them.

All three of you waited with baited breath as they ran the tests. They kept asking if you wanted anything, water, juice or something to eat. But you politely declined. Knowing if you put anything in your body right now you’d puke it up immediately with how nervous you were for the results.

They said it shouldn’t take too long.

It had been about an hour when a nurse popped her head out, signaling for all three of you to come back.

“Dr. Heinz will see you now,” she said, giving you all a small smile before leading you down the hallway towards the offices.

Shortly, you were sat on a comfortable sofa with Jungkook and Jimin in front of you. Jungkook and Jimin were holding onto each other so tight you feared for their circulation. But, Dr. Heinz was quick to get to the point.

“Well, I want to say, congratulations, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park... Y/N is pregnant,” he said, talking like you weren’t in the room.

“Oh my God!” Jungkook shouted, standing up and hugging Jimin to him tightly. They kissed several times, tears falling freely down the new father’s faces. Dr. Heinz let them have their moment, smiling at the happy couple. You looked down at your stomach and bit your lip.

So this was really happening...

“Jungkook, I love you,” Jimin said, holding onto his boyfriend tightly.

“I love you too babe, I love you too,” Jungkook affirmed.

“Okay we do have to discuss her health however,” Dr. Heinz said, having the men sit down quickly.

“Is she alright?” Jimin said, looking at you with worry written all over his features.

“She’s at a very fragile point in the pregnancy. IUI can be tricky so we need to be very careful with what happens next. I don’t want her doing anything strenuous. Especially with the lower body until we can get her in for an ultrasound. Her uterus looked good on her preliminary but getting pregnant can really affect a woman’s body, so we need to take all the precautions,” Dr. Heinz explained.

“But is she going to be okay?” Jungkook asked, placing a gentle hand on yours.

You looked at his big hand covering yours, blinking slowly.

“I’m worried about her low white blood cell count. That makes her more susceptible to colds and infections, so you need to be very careful. Her red blood cell count was also low, showing early signs of anemia. So lots of red meat and protein to help keep her levels up. Although the anemia will be aggravated by the pregnancy, so make sure she doesn’t stand up too fast or tax herself too much,” he said.

“I am right here,” you said, glaring at the doctor.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, they’re the parents in this situation. I want them to be informed of your situation,” Dr. Heinz said bluntly.

“There are four of us in this room, I’ll remind you of that. Don’t talk like I’m not here please,” you said, folding your hands and crossing your legs.

Jimin almost burst out laughing.

Damn you were feisty!

He really liked that...

“I-I apologize, Miss Y/N,” he said, swallowing quickly before continuing on. “Also, you’re going to start having more symptoms than the fatigue you mentioned. Morning sickness is extremely common and expected, although every woman is different. Headaches, dizziness and blurred vision are also to be noted. Even some spotting can happen, but please do tell us if you’re spotting or bleeding. Now, do any of you have questions?” The doctor asked, looking at the boys and you.

“Is there any way to know if we are expecting, more than one?” Jimin asked, looking down at your stomach with pure adoration on his face.

“We won’t really know until she’s further along. Quite a bit further actually. But for now, enjoy this. Enjoy the early stages, it’ll be tough but you can pull through. I wish you all the best of luck,” Dr. Heinz said, handing some paperwork over to Jungkook before the three of you stood up and headed out.

Jimin and Jungkook were so excited, chatting with each other about if they were having twins. If the baby was a boy or girl. You were in the car, hands folded in your lap while you looked out the window.

Honestly, you were scared out of your mind.

The doctor had mentioned this was a really fragile part of the pregnancy. That you’d have to be careful, not to mention it was important for your own health as well. If something happened to the baby, something could happen to you and vice versa.

Jungkook insisted on taking everyone out for dinner.

This was a big occasion after all.

Sitting down in the very resturant you all had your first meal in, felt kinda surreal.

Now, you were pregnant with their baby. It felt kinda full circle.

Jimin and Jungkook insisted on getting whatever you wanted. But you weren’t terribly hungry yet, maybe it was the nerves of the whole day catching up. But you ordered a few things, making sure to eat. You knew it made them happy when you did, because it showed you cared about your body and the life growing inside of you.

Jungkook was drinking, a lot if you were being honest. Jimin just watched him as his cheeks flushed red as he continued to talk animatedly at the two of you. Smiling, you filled up Jungkook’s water before urging him to drink some.

“Thanks youuu,” he said, beaming at you.

“You’re welcome, but drink up okay?” You said, gesturing towards the glass.

He did as you asked, drinking all the water. You sighed in relief, knowing at least he’d be hydrated when he went to bed.

“Well, guess you aren’t driving you big lug,” Jimin laughed as he hauled Jungkook out of the restaurant a while later.

“Mmm, we’re having a baby baby!” Jungkook cooed at Jimin, holding his cheeks in between his hands.

“Mhmm, yes we are. Now get in the back with Y/N, okay?” Jimin said, opening the back and helping his very tipsy boyfriend inside. You were about to climb in when Jimin placed his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt so hard you smacked your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you said, holding your head tightly.

“Y/N!” Jimin yelped. Jungkook’s head popped up.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at you with bleary eyes.

“I just smacked my head, I’m alright,” you said, rubbing your head gingerly.

“Can I take a look?” Jimin asked, biting his plump lips harshly.

“Y-yeah,” you said, leaning towards him.

Jimin’s gentle hands on your scalp proved to be dangerous. Because now, you wanted him to touch you here all the time. Combing his fingers through your hair. Massaging the tender flesh there.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding, but you’ll have a massive bump for a few days no doubt,” he reasoned.

“She’s gonna have a massive bump here soon too!” Jungkook cheered happily, pointing at your stomach.

“Jungkook, enough,” Jimin warned.

Grumbling to himself, Jungkook backed off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jimin asked. You nodded, already feeling the throbbing in the base of your skull starting.

“I’ll take a few pain killers when we get back,” you said.

“Okay,” Jimin said, running his hand from your head down to cradle your cheek in his palm. You’re cheeks heated up at the feeling of his skin on yours, but shortly he was retreating to the front of the car.

Soon, you were underway.

Jimin turned on the radio quietly, driving carefully around town.

Jungkook had managed to fall asleep against the window. When suddenly, the car was jerking to the side. Jimin laid on the horn, yelling a couple explicit words out the window. But, Jungkook’s body had already fallen into your lap.

His head rested comfortably against your thighs, arms draping across your legs. Jungkook continued to sleep peacefully while you inspected him. He had a beautiful nose, button like and slotting perfectly along with his already perfect features. His plush lips pouting as he slept. Your eyes widened at him, heart hammering in your chest as you gazed down at him.

He was incredibly handsome.

But, you knew his personality too. He was kind, but strong and sure of himself. He had an air of confidence that was almost infectious. But he also had a childish nature about him. Not immature, but there was something about the wonder in his eyes when he tried something new. Or the nostalgia that ran through him when he ate his favorite food or, just the sparkle in his eyes when Jimin came home.

You, as if possessed, took your hand and ran your fingers through his soft black hair. He groaned in his sleep, gripping your legs tighter. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

Jimin looked in the rearview mirror and saw you stroking Jungkook’s head with a gentle hand. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest. You were so caring and tender, everything you did had purpose behind it.

Jimin felt relief flood him at the idea of you being the mother of he and Jungkook’s child. Technically just Jimin’s but Jungkook was also the father but he didn’t get any genetics in this one.

This one...

Did Jimin want to have more children?

You just got the announcement today and he was already giddy at the prospect of you growing large with his child. But confusion swept through him. Was this just because he was grateful to you? Or was it something more?

Looking at you and Jungkook in the back, he thinks he might already know the answer.

#ficswithluv #ksmutclub #BTS #BTS smut #Jikook x reader #Jikook #Bangtan #BTS fanfic #Jikook smut #Jikook x reader smut #Pregnancy au #Jimin x jungkook x reader #Surrogacy Au

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unohanadaydreams · 3 years ago

Note

As the name suggests, I'm always thirsty for the Big Guy 😉 I wonder how Kenpachi would react if Ikkaku found a piece of your lingerie in the barracks, but no one knew about your relationship?

The idea of Kenpachi being viewed as sus for fucking a 4th member fuels me so ofc. This got out of hand but I fully blame the energy IkkaYumi brings to anything ever and not myself. Thank you for understanding.

Features: smut (18+) at the mid-point, IkkaYumi being real <3 for the majority of it, and sub!Kenpachi (☆ω☆), also idk maybe some minor angst but like made Seggsy.

Kenpachi Zaraki x f!reader (and IkkaYumi...mostly them tbh.)

Ikkaku slapped the door open with loudest ‘OI’ he could muster. The paper of the door ripped somewhere along the way as it slid open, the wooden frame wobbling as he stepped into the room.

Despite the noise, Yumichika’s hand stayed steadfast as he finished smudging eye shadow on his outer lid. Another ‘OI’ sounded, but no hand shook him or foot kicked at him while Yumichika held a brush to his eye.

Glacial, he finished blending the color until he was satisfied--rinsed the brush--set it to dry. Through the mirror in front of him, Yumichika looked to Ikkaku’s reflection only after admiring his own.

The lacy scrap of undies in Ikkaku’s hand lifted Yumichika’s brow.

“I thought you hated when I wore those,” he said with a sniff, turning to get a better look.

Ikkaku rubbed at his bald head, “yah think that because I do.”

Yumichika gestured for the undies and Ikkaku threw them. “And yet?”

“Yet, I found ‘em anyway!” Ikkaku fell into a wide squat, his hands fisting into the fabric of his uniform over his knees. “In the captain’s office.”

They stared at one another, both settling deeper into their feelings.

“Ikkaku, you must be joking,” Yumichika said, holding the undies against his arm. “This color makes me look positively jaundiced.”

“You think captain gives a shit about color theory?”

Yumichika threw the lacy bit of bullshit at Ikkaku’s face. Smiling when they landed on his dumb, shiny head. “He won’t even let me do his hair, Ikkaku. Your delusion is exhausting me.”

“Then--”

“Yes, Ikkaku. Then, they’re not mine. And they’re someone else’s.”

Ikkaku pulled the undies from his head, squinting at them. “Huh.”

Rising with a flourish, Yumichika let the sleeves of his robe billow behind him as he went for the cabinet to rummage for sake. Possibly a new boyfriend.

He came back after a few gulps, offering Ikkaku the bottle only after giving him a sound kick to the head that sent the man flopping to the side.

“Hey!” Ikkaku steadied himself with one hand and rubbed where he’d been kicked with the other...undies still in hand. “Ya can’t blame me. No one else around here would wear that shit.”

Yumichika gave a flat look. Took another gulp of sake. Sighed heavily as he sank to Ikkaku’s level.

“Which means they belong to someone who would,” Yumichika offered along with the sake. “Someone from a different division.”

“Must be serious,” Ikkaku said, sake dribbling down his chin. “Never found anything in his office...ever.”

Yumichika kissed at the trail of sake and took the bottle back once he’d settled into Ikkaku’s lap. “That means whoever it is will be back. And now we know what to look for.”

Ikkaku grunted, shoving his tongue in Yumichika’s mouth before the man in his lap could swallow his sake, not pulling away until he’d swiped as much alcohol with his tongue as he could.

“That shit ain’t good enough for you, anyway.”

“I know,” Yumichika said softly, tone at odds with him rising to stand, heading for the door.

“O--” A raised hand stalled Ikkaku from pointing to his tightened hamaka.

“Fix my door first, dumbass.”

Ikkaku lowered from his tip-toes, a man afflicted. “No way.”

“I told you,” Yumichika said in a hiss. “Not just from 4th division, but a pencil pusher.”

You looked like the kind who’d scramble to bring an 11th division soldier any impossible request they bullied you for. The quintessential mouse every self-respecting soldier was inclined to paw at.

“Don’t look so fucking smug, Yumi,” Ikkaku grumbled, peeling off the wall and pulling Yumichika back towards the training grounds by the back of the puffed-up peacock’s uniform, right at the lower back. Yumichika had just gotten his fifth pay-back punch in when they hit the gate that separated captain’s estate from training ground.

Theirs might have been the only captain so enamored with battle that he’d moved his quarters as close as the captain general would allow. If it weren’t for the bullshit ‘housing codes and regulations’, Ikkaku was sure the house would’ve been on top of the large rectangle of packed dirt that served as the largest training ground in the entire division.

Once they’d hopped the low wall, more meant to keep Zaraki’s house away from the grounds than to keep his underlings on the grounds away from him, Yumichika fell on the nearest bench to fix his uniform.

“Well now what?” Ikkaku rubbed at his side, knowing he was going to need to stretch soon or the tight knot Yumichika had punched into his side or even a night drowned in sake wouldn’t numb it when he collapsed in his futon.

Yumichika didn’t look up from retying his stiff, decorative obi but his face softened, “Now that we’ve been successfully nosy? I was thinking that new, chic sushi bar near the 1st. The one where all the wait-staff look just as yummy.”

“No I, mean--yeah, we’re definitely going,” Ikkaku said, his previous thought tripping over the vision of pretty smiles from androgynous beauties. “But, what do we do about the captain?”

“Well, I’m not going to say anything, but I also have tact. And grace,” Yumichika shrugged, fluffing the bow of obi.

Ikkaku kicked dirt and tensed forward at the shoulders, like he planned to lunge and attack. “I ain’t no fucking snitch and you know it. Don’tcha?”

Sliding forward, Yumichika massaged at Ikkaku’s tense shoulders, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t saying you would. Just that you’re tactless. And might on accident--which makes you an idiot, not a snitch.”

“Damn right,” Ikkaku grunted, anything but Yumichika’s agreement sliding off his bald head like water. “Wouldn’t snitch for anything. But what if someone else finds out? Like a captain or something. We can’t kill one of them and--”

“Oh, stop worrying about it,” Yumichika said, interrupting and pulling at Ikkaku’s arm--he was hungry, both for refined food and beauties. “No one who wants to live will chance Kenpachi asking for a fight. Or that Captain Unohana; she seems vicious in a way more of our men should be. Such grace.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Ikkaku nodded, letting himself be dragged off for sushi, sake, and sublime wait-staff. Still, there was morale to think about. No hardened warrior of the rukongai wanted to hear their fearless leader had a weakness for...the weak.

There had to be something more to it but Ikkaku wasn’t going to dig more into his captain’s business. He was more than happy to put the shovel down and follow Yumichika, even as the truth sat uncomfortably at the base of his skull.

You were weak in all the ways shinigami measured such things--swordsmanship, spiritual pressure, and kido were subjects you studied more than you practiced, let alone pulled off. But you had enough power to pass school and be sorted into the 4th division ranks, where you excelled.

An aptitude for medical procedure, surgery, and technology was what garnered you not just safety, but respect among your peers.

As for the other divisions? Well, you had some friends in 12th who fully understood your position.

Kenpachi Zaraki? Certainly wasn’t someone who could relate to you.

But, that was fine.

You preferred your men muzzled, anyway.

“Too bad, Cap--tain,” you breathed, stretching his title with your tongue playfully. “I was hoping they’d find out everything.”

Pulling yourself up, one fist over the other, by the leather leash tied taunt around Kenpachi’s neck, you delighted in seeing the muscles there strain to accommodate your weight and the need for breath at the same time.

You pressed your lips against his ear after admiring the rough line of his mouth being forcibly split open by a ball gang, pretty, pink, and yours. “Can’t you go faster?”

His answering grunt was followed by his body pressing into yours quick enough turn your teasing into moans. That’s what you liked most about Kenpachi; he was always striving to be better and exceeding expectation.

it would be effortless for him to put his hands on you without permission or rip out the ball gag, but he didn’t. Even when you met in a grimy bar close to the 11th, too drunk to realize who’s thigh you were toying with, his attention to what you wanted was surprising.

You panted, toes curling as he hit that lovely spot only he ever had, “H-hands on hips.”

So eager, he kneaded from the tops of your thighs to your hips like dough, obviously glad to be rewarded. You were eager too--for the angle. Your hips tilted upward gave him more depth and your fingers tightened on his leash.

There was no need to command for more, because he was giving you his all. And he kept going until your scattered breathing paired with the tight heat he was pounding into you snapped all at once, so intense that your eyes watered.

While you basked in the trembling after shocks, catching your breath, Kenpachi went still.

Until you said, “Sit on floor.”

The bed creaked and rose as he left it, leaving you to collect yourself in peace. When you rose to sit, he was kneeling on the floor, his cock hard and bobbing above his thighs.

You walked to him slow, nails scratching through his rough, black hair as you circled behind him. “Such good work,” you praised, “Just like always.”

Trailing down to the buckle, your fingers made quick of his ball gag, parting it from his teeth gently, and tossing it on the bed.

“What do you want me to reward you with, Kenpachi?” You asked him, only once you’d come to face him, your hand urging his jaw up, his eyes on yours.

“To get off,” he said, shameless.

You hummed, “then do it.”

Frowning, Kenpachi leaned his face into your touch. “I want you to.....please.”

The word ‘please’ was said slow, his eyes leaving yours several times before he said it. You wondered how many people Kenpachi Zaraki had ever asked, for anything. Let alone, with manners.

You kissed his nose, finding the almost demure behavior cute, “Then I will. Lay down.”

He did, his arms behind his head, like he napping under a tree instead of waiting for your hands to give his weeping cock relief.

You took your time, teasing him with sensation by spitting into your hand and giving him light rubs, again and again until his hips lifted off the ground.

The lacy bit of pink undies that stretched tight over his thighs, were yours too. And you peeled them off, throwing them toward the ball gag as his breathing grew heavy in the air.

Perhaps you deserved less teasing, but you couldn’t resist dragging out the fun a touch more, one hand fondling his tightening balls while the other scratched lightly at his inner thighs.

His breathing was catching on groans and audible ‘ah’s that had you biting your lip. Thigh’s clenching, you finally began circling the tip of his cock. Soon, you were giving him his first pump, slick hand trailing his length from tip to base in smooth, steady motions.

Straddling his thighs, you took advantage of the position and put both your hands to work, gripping him harder but keeping the same pace.

“Look how hard you are,” you cooed, hands pausing as your thumb circled the slit topping the bulbous head of his cock. “Do you want to cum for me?”

His, “yes,” was immediately pushed from his heaving chest. You hummed, so tempted to climb on top of him fully. But, that would be a kind of weakness you didn’t allow yourself.

Kenpachi’s lone eye struggled to stay open as you lowered your lips to kiss the tip of him. You rose back up and licked them as he watched, his pre-cum salty as it settled on your tongue.

You couldn’t call him unraveling under your firm, fast touch seeing him at his weakest. But, you were certain it was a kind of vulnerable he seldom experienced. Even his arms had come from behind his head, his fingers flexing around air while he struggled to keep them away from you. His hips began bucking with such strength that you were forced to tighten your thighs around his to keep your place.

Desperate, is what he was. For you to give him what he worked for.

And, you did.

His cock pulsed as you wrung his orgasm out, thick ropes of cum falling over his sweaty stomach and dripping down your hands. His moan was loud, deep, and reverberated through out the room like a cry of victory.

You kept stroking him until he was completely spent, until he made a sound almost like a whine.

“I need--”

He sat up, setting you on the floor before padding to the bathroom, and coming back with a damp cloth. “Here.”

“Thank you,” you said, keeping your eyes on your hands as you willed yourself to calm down. His orgasm had made you want him again, badly. But you had things to do. He had things to do.

What you had with Kenpachi was strange and tenuous. And your smug confidence drained a bit as you cleaned yourself and him, until you were almost unsure.

What now? You’d never even seen his house before this. Always in more public places, where you parted almost immediately after playing with him.

“You want these back,” he asked, lifting the ball gag and undies in one hand while pulling back the blankets on the bed with the other. The leash was already on the bedside table, his neck angrily red still.

If you took them, you wondered if it was all over. “No, you should. They’re easy enough to clean.”

“...You sure?”

You nodded, not so attached to a couple cheap props that you’d be wounded if something happened to them. “They’re all yours.”

Shrugging after a moment of silence, he gestured with his head to the bed, “unless you wanna take a shower first.”

“I’m fine for now,” you responded, climbing under the blanket, more confused than obedient. “Are you tired?”

“Enough to sleep.”

The bed dipped from his bulk, forcing you closer. He tossed an arm around you, so you could get comfortable against his side. You lay your head on his chest, eyes still open, listening to him breathe.

At first, you’d thought maybe it was all a joke. That Kenpachi Zaraki was trying to trap you into....something, like those men who feigned nice before using all their muscle to force you to bend as they wanted. To teach you a lesson for trying to dominate him.

You didn’t delude yourself into thinking you had real, tangible power of him or any man you’d toyed with, after all. Just something momentary, like a brief understanding.

But you felt less cautious as your eyes drooped shut and your thoughts circled around his intentions. He always approached you and asked, vague and gruff, ‘here good?’ And you’d find a closet or office or twisty alley that would do.

This time, you asked him. And he took you to his bedroom, compliant as ever, waiting for you to sprinkle nice words in his ear, for you to give him pleasure for being his best.

Drifting off to the rise and fall of his chest, you wondered if things like that meant so much to him.

#this is very lightly edited bc im so short on time lately #but this was fun #kenpachi zaraki smut #kenpachi zaraki x reader #kenpachi zaraki #bleach sm #bleach imagines #bleach scenario #zaraki-oriented #kenpachi: i like being praised and having someone acknowledge me #reader: wait....is this....kind of depressing and not just kinky?#but fr i just think dommed kenpachi is hot and i can not resist sprinkling crumbs of angst

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skylarmoon71 · 2 years ago

Text

Leonardo (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)- Oneshot

The first couple months as an officer were not what you expected. You’d worked so hard just to get to where you were, but it felt useless. As powerful as you are, some things were just unattainable.

Like respect from your supervisor.

“I can literally bend metal with my mind. But when I’m in that precinct, I just feel powerless."

You’d know the boys for so long. When you graduated from high school. Leo supported your choice to apply for the academy. You’d graduated at the top of your class. Now you were on the force as a rookie of course and it feels as though you’re not making much of a difference. You knew it wouldn’t be easy. It would be a long while before anyone took you seriously. That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating.

“I’m sure if you give them time they’ll see what a great cop you are. “ You can always count on Leo to give you insight.

Sitting on the rooftop, you kick your legs back and forth.

“So how is the nightlife? I’ve been kind of occupied. I miss running around with you guys.”

“We miss having you.” He nudges your shoulder, and you smile.

“I think after Shredder, it made us realize just how valuable our family is. After Kraang, well I don’t think we’ll take anything for granted."

“I know it’s never been easy. Especially with Mikey. “ Leo nods.

“Somewhere deep down he’ll always be wishing for acceptance. I just hope he gets that without needing to change who he is.”

You could understand that. Leo was a leader, but above all else, he was a brother. Family was the most important thing to him.

“Have you ever wanted it, to be human I mean?”

Leo looks down at you. It’s clear he’s actually thinking about it.

“Would you prefer it if you were normal? Without your powers.”

His question stops you.

“There…when I was younger I guess I did want to be normal. But now I love my powers. They’re a part of me. They define me.”

“That’s exactly how I feel. Maybe there is a part that has thought about what it would be like. But I don’t envy being human. I love the way I am. “

“I love the way you are too Leo.” He refocuses, and you blush.

“I-I mean like you’re tall and green and strong you know!” You do your best to cover the little slip up.

“Thanks (Y/N).”

“N-No problem.” You do your best to look away from him after that statement.

“I love the way you are too (Y/N). You’re amazing. Both as a cop and a person.” Damn him and his smooth words.

His gaze moves back to the view below.

“As for your problem at work, I think sometimes you just need to look at it from a different perspective. You see all those lights, they belong to someone. Everyday you put on that badge, you take an oath to protect that person. It may be today, or tomorrow. But that person matters and that’s what you fight for. That’s what we all fight for. Your contribution is just as valuable as any other cop on the force. Never forget that (Y/N).” You feel as though you’re going to tear up. Finally you get it.

“Leo, have I told you lately that you’re incredible?”

“I think it’s already implied. “ You laugh and so does Leo.

“Come on officer, you’ve got to be well rested tomorrow to take on this city.” He holds out his hand, and you take it happily.

~~~

“Rookie! Get me two coffees.”

“Yes sir!.” You nod to your sergeant.

“Wait, what are you doing, you have to carry this guy to holding first.”

“Of course sir, I’m sorry.” You make a quick turn to carry the clearly intoxicated man into a cell. You grimace at the scent he gives off.

“Right this way.”

Your advice, leading him down the hall. He grunts, following. After going through the full procedure, and washing your hands profusely, you enter the main office again.

“Rookie, where is that coffee?”

“I’m on it sir.”

You do a frantic walk towards the door, heading to get the coffee. As you’re exiting, a boy runs into your shoulder. He apologizes, and you smile, shaking your head.

“It’s my fault. I should be more careful.” He nods at you, but he’s looking a bit nervous.

“Are you alright?” He’s a teenager, probably fifteen.

“I-I’m okay.”

He excuses himself, walking into the precinct. You need to head to get those drinks before your sergeant blows a fuse, but the weary look on that boy's face makes you a bit conflicted. You backtrack, entering the doors. You walk in slowly, looking for the boy. You haven’t caught sight of him. When you’re back at the desks, you see him. He’s at the counter, tapping his fingers nervously.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be getting coffee!” You ignore his yell, walking around. He continues to yell, and when the boy takes notice of you, he pulls out a gun. You reach for your own, and so does half of the precinct.

“STAY BACK!!”

You raise your hands, but by now most of the station has taken notice. He points the gun at his own temple, hands shaking.

“Drop the gun boy!”

“You’re surrounded!”

“Don’t do anything stupid!”

All the yells seem to be coming at him all at once. He looks from left to right.

“I-I’ll shoot I swear!!” He threatens. You swallow. Your steps are slow.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

He narrows his eyes at you, still eyeing the officers that have their guns drawn. You holster your own weapon.

“Don’t look at them, look at me. Tell me your name.” He’s breathing a bit heavy, eyes darting around.

“I-I’m Sean.”

“It’s nice to meet you Sean. “ He looks a bit in awe.

“Why don’t you put down that gun so we can talk.”

“You think I’m stupid!! The second I drop this they’ll shoot me!! I WANT THEM TOO!! JUST SHOOT ME!!”

He looks like he’s about to pull the trigger and close the space between the both of you, hugging him. His hands freeze, and you just hold on.

“Now if they shoot, they’ll take both of us down.” You speak. Sean looks confused.

“Why are you doing this…d-do you want to die!?”

“I don’t. But I don’t want you to die either. Sean I.I’ve been where you are.” It’s a whisper, and you can feel him lower his hand.

“It usually starts off as small things, and you think if you just let it happen, they’ll stop. But it never stops. “

You can feel the slight sobs he lets out, pretty soon the tears start. His head drops low, gun still in his hand.

“It feels as though it’ll be better if you were gone. Because then it’ll finally stop.”

His entire body is shaking, and the cops around don’t look as threatened. A few of them lower their guns.

“No matter what they say or do, you’re amazing Sean. Don’t give them the satisfaction of winning."

The gun drops from his hand, another officer is quick to remove it. When it’s taken away, you hold on, and he hugs back, crying into your shoulder. You stand there, providing the comfort he needs.

The aftermath is a bit messy. You know he won’t be let off scotch free. He would have to pay for his actions. Since no one was actually harmed, thankfully his sentence won’t be as brutal. His parents had raced down to the precinct the moment they heard. Seeing their troubled looks, somehow you knew he would get through this.

He had two hard working parents. It’s possible they’d been so exhausted from constant work shifts that they didn’t even see the signs. As they take him away, he looks at you for a brief moment, and you send him a smile, one that he returns nodding his head in thanks. He disappears around the corner. Someone walks over giving you a pat on your shoulder. When you look up, a thought hits you.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I’ll get that coffee!” Before you can take off he shakes his head.

“Good job Officer Grey.”

You never thought you’d get praise from him of all people.

“Don’t forget the cream.” He says with a grin. A smile grows on your face.

“Yes sir!”

It’s a tiring day to say the least.

Standing on the familiar skyscraper feels a bit different today. All your ramblings with Leo from a few days ago feel almost insignificant. Leo was right. You didn’t need constant verbal recognition that you were helping people. As long as you were able to assist, then that was enough.

“(Y/N).”

Leo’s call makes you turn your head.

“Hey, are you already done with your shift?”

You didn’t expect him to be here tonight. The patrols aren’t always quick rounds of the city.

“I came over to check on you. I saw April’s article."

Of course he was worried. You were more than happy to cooperate with April. She’d not only made known the trauma that Sean received at school that drove him to act out, but also promoted the involvement teachers needed to partake in to prevent the global issue that is bullying.

“I’m okay. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was just scared and hurt. Sean wanted someone to see that he was hurting and help.” When you turn your head, Leo can see the pain in your eyes.

“Leo.. a few years ago that was me. I could have been in his very spot. Sean isn’t like me, he’s normal but I can’t help but think that I could have gone either way. Unlike him, I could have caused actual harm.” Leo takes a seat right next to you.

“You would never hurt anyone. The same faith you have in Sean, that’s how much I have in you. Maybe even more.”

You can’t express how much that means to you.

“If I hadn’t met you guys, who knows where I would be right now. What I would be doing.”

You turn back to Leo, and it hurts him to see that broken look in your eyes. All he wants to do is take it away forever.

Without thinking, he leans in. His palm lands on your cheek, and you just release a soft sound of surprise. He’s so tender. You can’t even tell if this is his first kiss, because he seems so good at it. You don’t even need to think about it. You return the kiss, gripping at the strap over his chest. He complies willingly, reaching over and placing a hand on your hip to pull you closer. Your kisses are getting a bit frantic.

You can’t seem to stop yourself, neither can Leo. No part of you wants this to stop. Unfortunately oxygen is essential for survival. You part to gather your breath, and Leo’s eyes flicker open slowly. It takes you a minute, but you meet his gaze. A few moments pass, and his eyes grow wide. He pulls away in a hurry.

“(Y/N) I-I’m sorry I-”

You shot upright, nearly tripping over your feet.

“N-No it was my fault! I-I should go.”

You don’t have the heart to stay and hear him say he regrets what just happened. Because you didn’t.

You jump off and Leo just looks down as you shoot off into the sky. Times like this he wish he had similar abilities. This is the first time you’d run off like that. Usually you stay just so he can carry you down himself. He likes having you in his arms.

Your taste on his lips.

He closes his eyes to calm his thoughts.

“This is going to be a problem.”

That was the understatement of the century.

23 notes · View notes

kadavernagh · 2 years ago

Text

Sad, Sweaty Man || Regan & Emilio

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Regan’s cabin PARTIES: Emilio and Regan SUMMARY: Emilio’s strength and abilities were sapped out of him as a consequence for breaking his deal with Regan. Now Regan wants to see if she can help. Sometimes it’s all in the wording.

Every battle felt like an empty one now. Like no matter how many fights he won, he’d still wind up losing. Regan released him from the promise he’d made her, but it was too late to stop him from facing the consequences of breaking it. Marina cut him loose from Levi, but it only found another way to hurt him. Now, Regan was offering to help him regain what he’d lost in any way she could… but what else would he lose in the process? What would this victory steal from him?

Emilio told himself it didn’t matter. He’d need his abilities if he was going to protect the people he loved, and he did intend on protecting the people he loved. He was good at doing what needed to be done. He wasn’t much good at anything else.

The trek to the cabin was a familiar one, even with exhaustion weighing heavy on his bones. When was the last time he slept for more than an hour or two? He honestly wasn’t sure. Certainly not since Levi delivered its news. Maybe not since before that. The bags under his eyes and the way his hands trembled as his knuckles rapped against the cabin’s door told a story all their own, and he scrubbed a hand across his face as it swung open. “Don’t really need you to invite me in,” he said, “but I’m not gonna barge inside, either.”

—

Regan hadn’t come back to the cabin since the procedure. The coyotectomy was still fresh in her mind, and her gaze kept drifting toward the spot on the floor where the skull of the coyote had been burned right in front of her. The cabin felt bare. Maybe it was always like this, or maybe it was the empty spaces on the shelves that once held other bones, or the way she could hear her thoughts more clearly since the animal eviction. In any case, she didn’t like it. And neither, it seemed, did Emilio. The sad, sweaty hunter stood outside her door, and it occurred to Regan that maybe she shouldn’t tell him that she came here specifically to meet him – and her preference would have just been her apartment.

“Unusually polite of you. Come in.” Regan eyed him further. He always seemed about one good bar fight away from another bar fight. There were always scratches on his skin and a smell emanating from his clothes, and she was pretty sure he looked worse now than he had during his time bound to her. And yet, she owed him terribly, and guilt sank like a grave within her stomach. “I’m –” She licked her lips, wondering if this would even be appreciated by a man like him, fearful of emotions in a different way she was. “Emilio, I am sorry. I’m sorry this happened, that a deal was made, and for how I treated you. I’m sorry there are consequences even now.” The tension was so thick she needed to clear her throat. “So, um – you said – what is your presenting complaint? I’m familiar with the unusual muscle tone of… people like you. Am I understanding correctly that you feel weaker now?” She figured he would appreciate her being straight to the point now. She motioned to a chair, inviting him to sit, and thought about how to wash it after he left.

—

“Don’t know why people always say that. I’m polite.” His tone was dry, but not quite as empty as he was expecting it to be. Maybe it was because Marina had no expectations. For the last few months, she’d made that pretty clear. It had been annoying then, but… It was almost a comfort now. Like a relaxing break in routine instead of an infuriating irritation. He never thought he’d see the damn day.

He stepped into the cabin with a sigh, doing a quick, instinctive glance around. That was the corner where Metzli broke the damn bones that Regan had been so pressed about. In retrospect, Emilio probably shouldn’t have tried to stop them. Hindsight was always 20/20. He glanced up as Regan spoke, pulled from the memory by the sound of her voice and furrowing his brow as the apology sunk in. “It wasn’t you,” he offered with a small shrug. “That’s what everyone says.” Kaden, Metzli, even Ari. They’d all been adamant that Regan wasn’t herself, and how could Emilio blame her for that? How could he hold it against her? He’d been plenty pissed when it was happening, but he’d meant it when he’d told her she was the least of his problems, for a while there.

She motioned to the chair and, naturally, part of him wanted to deny the offer and remain standing. Exhaustion won out over stubborn pride in the end, though, and he practically collapsed onto it. “Not just the strength,” he replied, slumping a little. “My senses are shot. Usually, I can hear better than a normal person. See in the dark. Feel when something… dangerous is nearby.” He carefully shifted the word undead to one she’d be more comfortable with, considering her strange aversion to supernatural occurrences. “Got less energy, too. Used to be able to go a few days without sleeping and be fine. Now I feel like I’m about to fall over.”

—

It wasn’t you. It was more complicated than that, in Regan’s eyes, but she wasn’t going to argue with Emilio. They had already done so much of that. “Yes, well, either way, I’m– I was me enough that I should have known better than to listen to a neuro-coyote. I should have doubted it more, convincing though it was. I am sorry for what I, or it, put you through.” Her eyes drifted away from Emilio’s and landed on the sweat leaching into the fabric of the chair. Ignore it. He was at least forthcoming with what he was currently experiencing. Regan looked down at him from where she stood, before remembering some of the bedside manner basics. She nodded in confirmation that she was listening, and knelt down on the floor to be more level. “I don’t have a previous baseline for you. Can you describe it for me? Your usual strength and hearing. What you usually feel.” With a soft sigh, she wondered if a physical examination would even be of any help here. Another stab of guilt. “And… you think this is connected to the verbal exchange we made?”

—

A neuro-coyote. Emilio had never understood how Regan explained the things she went through while denying the supernatural nature of them, and this was a good sign that he probably never would. If she couldn’t accept the truth of the supernatural after being possessed by a coyote spirit for months, then… Well, it was probably a good sign that she’d never accept it entirely. And maybe that was all right. Maybe everyone coped with this fucked up shit in the way they coped with it. Emilio didn’t think he was in much of a position to give anyone any kind of advice there. He shifted as he sat down on the chair, stretching his leg out absentmindedly. “Yeah,” he agreed, “all right. Uh… I guess my strength was two or three times what it is now. Used to be able to hear things from a few miles, if I focused it. The feeling was… Like a prickle on the back of the neck. Maybe something like what you feel around dead bodies. Hard to say, since I don’t know your baseline, either.” He swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. I do. You… I said I’d protect you and the bones.” Because he’d been the one to make the promise. He couldn’t blame Regan entirely — he’d made a choice in the graveyard that night he met her. She hadn’t forced him. “And, you know… I didn’t keep it. So now, I lost the thing that lets me protect people. That’s how those… verbal exchanges work, isn’t it? You lose something equal to what you broke.”

—

A strange discomfort filled Regan’s stomach as Emilio described his baseline. It sounded so normal to him. All the quirks of Kaden’s body had become familiar to Regan over time, but thinking there were others that shared them… and she never had found the source of Kaden’s peculiarities, either. There was nothing to probe at, nothing to remove or heal. She hated that her instinct was right – a physical would not be of help. The solution lay in the thing she feared. She stood up and sat in the other chair, which she hoped Emilio wouldn’t take as a sign of resignation. “I doubt I’ll find anything but ordinary injuries if I were to examine you.” she explained with another sigh. She wasn’t going to answer his question that wasn’t a question. Her baseline was not something she knew well enough to share.

Regan’s lips pressed into a thin line as she instead considered the wording of their prior exchange. “Protect me and the bones…” That was it. She remembered that confusing night. “I’m surprised your bones aren’t broken,” Regan said, “if it works the way you say, I mean. Which I am not convinced is the case.” The only person who said as much to her was Lydia, and how could Regan trust that now? “That is to say… I don’t know enough on the topic to answer you with any certainty.” Some help she was. Some use this was. Still, she couldn’t give up. Maybe if she understood more about the circumstances that broke the promise. “At what point did you notice this, um, consequence? When do you think you broke it? The… exchange.”

—

It should have come as a relief, the way she seemed to accept that what was happening wasn’t medical. There was nothing a physical could do, she was right about that; if she conducted one, the only thing she would find would be old injuries that had healed too fast and new ones that weren’t healing fast enough. But there was something hopeless about the confession all the same. Something medical, Regan might be able to fix. Something fae? Emilio wasn’t so sure. He had no doubt in her skills as a doctor, not with how passionate she was about it. But she didn’t seem to know as much about being a banshee. If what Kaden and Regan said was true, she’d barely accepted that she was one at all. It would definitely make any hope of him getting out of this deal a lot slimmer than he’d like.

A surprised laugh escaped from between his lips in a quiet huff of air because Christ, she was blunt. “Yeah, gotta say, I’m glad not to have broken bones on top of all this shit. Those heal slow enough even at my pace.” And they didn’t always heal right, either. His knee twinged as if to provide an unnecessary reminder of that fact. “I’m not going to try to convince you.” It’d be a waste of his time, he knew. Regan was, among many other things, damn stubborn. “But from what I know… That is how it works. And it makes sense, given what I’m experiencing. Punishment matching the crime or… whatever.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. His unkempt curls caught on his fingers, and he made a face as he pulled them away. “Uh… Just after the coyotes disappeared. So when the exor…” He trailed off. What had she called it again? He couldn’t remember. “When the thing in the cabin finished.”

—

“Good,” Regan said simply, “you can’t convince me. I ought to th– I appreciate you not even trying.” But what Emilio said raised more questions than it answered. The coyotectomy? Why– that didn’t make any sense. She might not have known what was going on, not really, and asking more questions might not net any more clarity, but it couldn’t hurt. Something here was off. What did the coyotectomy have to do with protecting or failing to protect her? She met Emilio’s eyes, her own narrowed in scrutiny. “Emilio,” she started, failing to hide her confusion, “This started after the procedure? Why? I mean, do you… is it possible you consider that breaking the terms of our agreement? What happened here?”

—

He raised a brow at the near slip, but didn’t comment on it. He was… reasonably certain he would have released her, though in all honesty, he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t released Marina, after all, was still holding on to that thanks she’d given him in spite of the way it sat uncomfortably in his chest. Glancing up as Regan spoke again, Emilio furrowed his brow at the clear confusion etched into her features. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “I was… trying to get here. To help. But I got caught up in the woods.” Kaden insisted that that was for the best and, though Emilio would never admit to as much aloud, he knew it was probably true. It had been the best solution for everyone but Emilio. That was the part that sucked. “I wasn’t here. And the thing you didn’t want to happen happened. Seems like a broken agreement to me.”

—

To help. Regan opened her mouth to comment on that, but it sat in her head a bit longer. How did these agreements work? Were they open to interpretation from both parties? She held her tongue, not wanting to interrupt Emilio as he provided information he might not share twice. Regan needed to confirm. If it really was as simple as– but it couldn’t be, right? No, there had to be more to it, something Emilio knew but she didn’t. That frequently seemed to be the case. She nodded, piecing together what he said. “You were trying to get here to help?” She asked him, eyes wide in what was shaping into a realization. “You agreed to protect me. What were you planning on doing once you got here to help?” She tilted her head, wondering again if it could be that simple. Did he realize it now, too?

—

What would he have done if he’d gotten to that cabin in time? It was a question Kaden had asked, too. Emilio wasn’t sure of the answer. Fighting Kaden, Metzli, and Jude was one thing, but would he have been able to allow himself to fight Lil? Or Ari? Even with a promise bind driving him, he would have put up resistance. And he’d told both Ari and Lil, at one point or another, how to take him down in a fight if they needed to. He would have ended up in the same situation he was now. Logically, he knew that. But… “I would have done a lot more than I did out in those damn woods, at least. Maybe me being there would have been enough to satisfy the thing.” Probably not, given that he still would have failed. But Emilio was a stubborn ass when he wanted to be… and he always wanted to be. “It probably wouldn’t have meant anything either way.”

—

Okay, so Regan probably should have realized by now that hunters seemed to share a certain… density. As endearing as she found it in Kaden. “That doesn’t answer my question,” Regan said with a frown, “I mean, what would you do? Would you have tried to interrupt the procedure? Would you have helped the procedure along? What were you attempting?” She let the questions hang, having more of them herself. “It may matter. I’m not so sure you broke our agreement at all, Emilio. What does it mean to you to protect someone?” And if Emilio were anything like Kaden – which Regan thought he might be, in spite of their conflicts – that would not be a simple question to answer, but an important one. She looked down, studying the arms of her chair, only because they were easier than looking at Emilio in this moment. “This isn’t a trick, if you’re wondering. We may have different definitions. Or perhaps only perspectives.”

—

“I… would have tried to stop it?” He wasn’t sure where this was going, wasn’t sure if he was answering the question correctly or not. He’d never been particularly good at critical thinking. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been particularly good at any kind of thinking. Regan said this mattered, but Emilio was struggling to understand how. Her next question was just as confusing, largely because it wasn’t one he’d ever put much thought into. “To, uh… Keep them safe. Make sure they’re not hurt. Make sure nothing happens to them. Right?” How could there be a definition other than that one? Though different perspectives… he supposed that made sense. What he didn’t know was whether or not it would change anything.

—

Emilio’s answer was along the lines of what Regan suspected, yet she still couldn’t help but give him a blank stare. He would have tried to stop the procedure. Yet, his aim was to keep her safe and unharmed. See that nothing happened to her. Weren’t those two things irreconcilable? “Emilio,” she said slowly, sighing and meeting his eyes once again. He seemed confused and defeated, like he didn’t see the point of what she was asking. Her proposal was so strange, so not based in medical science, that it moved her to rise from her chair and pace lightly across the room. Perhaps it was some psychosomatic guilt response; that was rational enough. She looked at him again. “If you had managed to stop the procedure, that would not have been keeping me safe.” Regan turned. Paced in the other direction. She just needed to approach this logically and without too much emotion. “Don’t you think I’m better off like this? I don’t blame the coyote. I won’t. But I’ve returned to my senses. So tell me, why do you think you’ve failed?”

—

It was hard for Emilio, who was stubborn on his best day and downright unreasonable on his worst, to admit it, but Regan made a good point. Stopping the… procedure, as she called it, wouldn’t have been protecting her if the thing the exorcism was fixing was making her someone else. She was better off the way she was now — in full control, without the damaged spirit of some abused animal pulling the strings. So why did it feel like he’d ruined something? Why did it feel like he’d managed to fuck up his life a little more for failing to prevent this? Was he so desperate to hate himself that he was looking for excuses to do so, just like everyone said? “If I did what I was supposed to do, then why — Why does it feel like this? Why are my powers shot?”

—-

Regan watched Emilio’s thoughts work their way through the muscles in his face, the way his eyes widened and his jaw twitched. He seemed to almost be straining himself, connecting dots that didn’t occur to him. She stayed silent, letting him come to the conclusion without further prompting. Finally, he did. And Regan stopped pacing. There was a strange, desperate underscore to his voice that made more guilt worm around inside of her. She couldn’t answer him, really. She didn’t know why he seemed to be ill, despite keeping to what he promised. “I don’t know.” She said honestly, her voice softer than usual. “But I also think I’m better off like this. And I think your failure to make it here and disrupt anything was keeping me safe. In, um, an uneventful kind of way.” She considered. “I still think you likely helped in some way, at some point. Surely you were in contact with someone involved, shared some key information at some point. But that may not matter. None of this may matter. I don’t know the etiology behind your syndrome.” She didn’t want to say this. She wasn’t supposed to say this. But if Emilio was currently a patient, and it had the potential to help her patient, well… she had to, right? Regan cleared her throat. “I’m grateful to you, and I think your actions allowed me to be relatively unharmed, and certainly myself. That sounds like protection to me. But what do I know? I’m just a doctor.”

—-

The more she spoke, the more sense she made. She was who she wanted to be now, was back to being herself after months of being someone else. And Emilio had, in a way, helped that to happen. When he hadn’t stopped Metzli from smashing those bones, when he’d stayed back with the intention of fighting the coyotes instead of running to the cabin when he’d had an opening, when he’d tried, in his own subtle way, to get Regan to question what was happening in her head by bringing up Kaden after seeing how she reacted to him when they retrieved the bones he’d taken. It hadn’t always been through his own will, but Emilio had played a part in freeing Regan from her possession. And she’d wanted that. She was telling him she’d wanted that. She was thanking him for it.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, a moment of disorientation as her words sunk in and his mind detangled itself from the ever-present confusion that reared its head when he was forced to think in depth on anything he didn’t understand well. If Regan was okay, if she was better now, then Emilio had done what he’d promised to do. And if he’d done what he’d promised to do…

The dizzy spell passed and, as it faded, everything else eased itself in. The familiar sounds that had been deafened before — Regan’s heartbeat, something scurrying in the woods, the power surging through the lights and the water in the pipes. His vision sharpened, shadows melting from the darkened corners of the room as his night vision came back. He was still tired, of course — not sleeping for as long as he had was the kind of thing that could only be solved with rest he refused to partake in — but the rest of it seemed to slot back into place. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. I don’t — I don’t know what you did. I don’t know how that worked. But I’m… I feel like I should again. Like me.”

—

Would this even work? Regan wasn’t optimistic, but whether Emilio’s symptoms were due to her own words that bound him, or were psychosomatic in nature, it was possible this could only be fixed with more words. So she watched as his face continued to tangle with emotion and cognitive function that he clearly rarely afforded himself. And there it was: a look came over him as though he was stunned. Maybe it was the realization of what she was saying being correct, or maybe something more. “Are you–” she started, but whatever it was seemed to have passed. “I gave you a lot to think about, I know. But I–” Wait. Was he saying… “It worked? What do you mean what I did? All I did was– I mean, I thought your guilt might be–” Did it matter right now? Satisfaction shone on her face. One of the few emotions Deirdre did encourage her to bask in. Satisfaction, pride, superiority. It was nice. But she was glad for Emilio, too. Whatever weight he was carrying had become too much even for his strength, and now it seemed to have lifted.

Perhaps she missed her calling in psychiatry. Al would have found nothing funnier.

Regan took a cautious approach toward him. “Good. That’s good. Are you certain? And do you need– I mean, how do you feel? Physically. How do you feel physically? Do you need help?”

—

The relief was palpable. There were still things hanging heavy over the slayer’s head — when weren’t there? — but, if nothing else, he felt more capable of resolving them now. Solving one problem among many may have been a drop in an ever-growing bucket, but it was a big enough drop to make Emilio feel just a little better about his chances of overcoming all the bullshit. “It worked,” he confirmed, closing his eyes for a moment. The return of his senses was just as overwhelming as the absence of them had been, but in a much more positive sort of way. It was like coming up from air after staying underwater so long his lungs had been close to bursting. It felt good just to breathe.

Glancing up to Regan, he took note of the satisfied look on her face. There was something strangely surprising about the realization that she actually had wanted to help him, even after everything. It hadn’t been her putting on a show or trying to quell any leftover anger he might have in order to save her own skin. She’d cared about the outcome here. It was difficult for Emilio to understand why, given how their relationship had been up to now, but… He supposed Metzli and Kaden were right. He’d never known the real Regan at all. Not until this moment. “I feel fine. Better.” Physically, at least, he felt better than he had since before that day in the woods with the damn scream and the ghost coyotes. “No, I… You’ve done enough for me already. I appreciate it. The help.”

—

Regan’s eyes drifted over Emilio, head to toe, and she determined that he looked more or less physically fine. It was strange, though – the way he looked back at her. She decided it wasn’t worth reading into. “I’m surprised talking worked,” she admitted, “but I’m glad it did. Kaden would have felt strange and incomplete if it were him. I imagine you were similar.” And fine, part of her just wanted to verbally compare him to Kaden to needle at him a tiny bit more before he went. There was a small amount of amusement to be found in it, even though bringing Kaden up still made some part of her ache.

Regan’s arms dropped to her sides, like she could finally rest after a 4 hour autopsy. “It doesn’t sound as though you want another apology from me. And I certainly don’t need one from you.” So… what? She looked at Emilio, then toward the door. Considered saying we have concluded and you may take your leave. But there was an emptiness to that after everything she put him through. The option that felt more appropriate was the one that also felt more alien to her. Regan held out her hand and tilted her head. She wouldn’t say anything and risk this turning into a deal sealed by a handshake. But the gesture, or at least offering it, felt right.

—

Emilio made a face at the comparison, but it was pretty spot on. He had felt strange and incomplete without his abilities. He imagined most hunters would. The majority of them defined themselves by the abilities that came with hunting, tied their value intrinsically with them. And that wasn’t even getting into how much a large number of them — including Emilio himself — came to rely on those abilities. Being without them was dangerous in more ways than one. Having them back was something better than he could ever hope to explain.

“No,” he agreed, “I think we’re both done with apologies.” She wasn’t very subtle; in a way, Emilio appreciated it. He preferred people who were to the point about things. Glancing down at her outstretched hand, he huffed out a quiet laugh and took it, the cold shock of her skin sending a jolt through him. Christ. If nothing else, he figured, it sure as hell woke him up. He gave her hand a stretch and a nod, and he thought it was probably the closest two people could come to saying thank you when the phrase itself was decidedly off limits. “Be seeing you, Regan.”

Oddly enough, he didn’t dread the way it might be true.

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wolveria · 4 years ago

Text

Inside Your Wires - Chapter 1

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Summary: Assigned all cases involving android-related crimes, saddled with a prototype that follows him around like a plastic puppy, Detective Connor Anderson knows this must be karma for all the bad shit he’s ever done.

He thought he'd hit rock bottom, that he didn't have much left to lose, but he's proven wrong by the android sent by CyberLife. And Connor learns just how much further he can fall.

Prompt: For the @dbhau-bigbang 2020 challenge!

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

AO3

(Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet)

November 5th, 2038

Friday 11:21PM

The whiskey was harsh and burned like liquid fire as it slid down his throat. He dropped the shot glass onto the bar top and closed his eyes and savored the bloom of the cheap booze warming his chest. The music from the old jukebox behind him belted out tunes that would have been considered outdated when the place opened.

It was like this most nights. He was alone, exhausted, and well on his way to a pleasant buzz. The one thing Connor had going for him was that he hadn’t started in on his third drink until 11 PM.

That had to be some kind of record. On a Friday night, he was usually shitfaced by 10. Call it the long hours he’d been working, or maybe the fact he felt more self-loathing than usual, he’d somehow managed to hold off on spiraling until nearly midnight.

Definitely a record. And Connor deserved to celebrate.

When he tipped the glass with one finger and caught Jimmy’s eye, he nearly looked away in shame. The bartender had never given him shit before, at least in a verbal sense, but the cool stare he gave Connor now made him want to crawl into a hole and die there.

But Jimmy didn’t say a word, just gave him another dose of poison and turned away, leaving Connor in relative peace to enjoy the game. Denton Carter was kicking ass tonight, so at least there was that.

It was all going beautifully until the door opened and the sound of rain echoed throughout the tiny bar, along with a distinct smell of wet asphalt and dirty concrete. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw two of the other regulars shift in their seats to stare at the newcomer.

Not another regular, then. And by how lengthy the stares were and the sudden shift in atmosphere, Connor guessed the barometric pressure had taken a drop due to a pair of long legs and pretty eyes.

Turning his body only far enough to get a glance for himself, Connor was not disappointed, eyeing the stranger from their black dress shoes, up their shapely legs clad in dark jeans, past curvy hips and—

Oh.

Connor turned back in his seat, hunched over and grimacing in disgust, put there by the sight of a blue triangle on a lapel and a glowing armband around one arm. He hadn’t even needed to look higher for the LED to know what the fuck had just waltzed into the joint like it actually belonged there.

He nursed his whiskey, praying the thing would pass him by and leave him the fuck alone. Or better yet, Jimmy would throw it out.

No such luck, of course.

“Detective Anderson,” spoke a smooth, raspy voice to his right. “I’m the YN800 model sent by CyberLife.”

He elected to ignore it. Maybe if he did so for long enough, it would take the hint and go away.

Again, Connor’s luck was not holding out.

“I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer,” the voice continued, unimpeded. “I then looked for you at the station after checking your home, but you weren’t there either. Your colleagues indicated you tended to frequent the bars in the area, and I was fortunate to find you at the fifth one.”

His eye twitched. This thing had gone to his apartment?

“Well, here I am,” he answered, dry and caustic as he stared straight ahead at the wall of bottles. He calculated how angry Jimmy would be if he took out his service pistol and shot it through the head.

Pretty angry, Connor decided. It would probably leave a stain. Also, he didn’t want to compensate some asshole company for property damage.

“What do you want?” he finally growled, scratching his nail into the bar top already marred with various scuffs and dings.

“You were assigned a case earlier this evening. A homicide.”

Already, a headache was forming between the eyes at the sound of the android’s irritatingly friendly voice.

“Yeah, and?”

“It involved a CyberLife android,” it said in that same smooth inflection. “In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

You have to be shitting me.

Connor grit his teeth and clenched his glass tighter, a flush of heat moving through him that had nothing to do with his blood alcohol content. A fucking android was sent to help cops do their job?

Fuck that, and fuck this hunk of junk.

“Good for them,” he answered as he tipped the glass up to his lips. “I couldn’t give less of a shit. Now get the fuck out of my face. We don’t need any help, especially from a plastic pair of tits like you.”

He should have known that wasn’t the end of it. The android spoke again, adopting a tone of what it had probably been programmed as “sympathetic.”

“I understand you may be experiencing reluctance to having an android’s assistance in this matter, but I am—“

“—ruining a perfectly good evening, butting your nose where it doesn’t belong and sure as fuck isn’t welcome.”

Connor put his glass down harder on the bar top than he meant to, nearly spilling his drink.

“I suggest you leave before I void your warranty.”

Connor thought the machine got the message when it finally went silent. He could even see its mood ring spinning yellow out of the corner of his eye before it settled on that annoying placid blue.

He’d just brought the glass halfway to his lips when it said, “I’m sorry, Detective, but I must insist.”

Connor set the glass back down and started to count to ten. He couldn’t lose it now, he’d promised Jimmy he wouldn’t break anything else after the last brawl he’d gotten into.

But the fucking thing just kept on talking.

“My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you.”

“You know where you can stick your instructions?” Connor growled before downing the glass of whiskey.

It was a good thing he had, because its next words made him choke on spit.

“No. Where?”

Connor set the glass down, and for the first time that evening, fully turned toward the android and stared at it.

The damn thing was staring back, head slightly tilted like a curious puppy. It had large eyes to match the image too, earnest and innocent and entirely too sincere. Its attire at second glance wasn’t the typical android faire. A smooth grey android jacket and a dark, patterned tie marked it as something different. Unique.

And just a little too pretty. Every designed, group-focused imperfection on its face made it that much more appealing. Its hair was neatly coifed, pulled up and pinned behind its head, exposing the smooth curve of its neck.

Hanging down the left side of its face was a strategically-placed lock of hair that Connor immediately want to twirl his finger around. He suspected that was the point.

The further down Connor’s eyes traveled, the more he lost his train of thought. The perfectly sensible tie was lying on the slope of its breasts, something even the jacket couldn’t cover. Why the fuck androids had breasts to begin with, Connor couldn’t begin to fathom, and it seemed even more ludicrous now seeing them on a “specialized model.”

The android hadn’t moved apart from its artificial breathing, another thing about the machines that was uncanny. They weren’t human, and the fact CyberLife kept trying to pass them off as such was a goddamn insult to humanity.

He met the thing’s eye, gave an unimpressed huff, and went back to nursing his drink. If the fucking tin can didn’t understand a dirty innuendo, he certainly wasn’t going to ruin its pristine, virginal programming.

Connor doubted everything that had just gone through his head as those unnecessarily realistic tits were pressed against his elbow, without warning or any sense of decency or a concept of personal space.

“How about this, Detective?”

Connor fumbled, nearly spilling his drink, a massive what the fuck! warning flashing in his head as the machine pressed closer.

“I’ll buy you another drink, on the house. Surely that’s worth a few minutes of your time? And if not, you can send me on my way.”

Connor couldn’t speak with that voice right into his ear like a close confidant, sultry and low and borderline pornographic, so it was a good thing the android didn’t bother waiting for a response.

Instead, it turned to Jimmy and said in a louder, more normal tone, “Bartender, another round for the detective, please.”

Jimmy turned from where he was cleaning glasses on the counter, eyebrows shooting upward as he looked from the machine to Connor. It had backed up a few inches, but there were a lot of reflective bottles on the wall. Connor wondered just how much Jimmy had seen.

Connor gave a little helpless shrug as if to say, Don’t look at me, I don’t know what the fuck it’s doing!

But when the damn thing actually brought out real paper money and set it on the counter, Jimmy got moving. Seemed he wasn’t picky about where his money came from, and Connor almost resented the fact he hadn’t thrown the android out on principle.

Who the hell gave it money in the first place? CyberLife? What, did they hand it a few bucks of allowance before letting it off its leash?

Despite all his reservations, and there were a great many of them, Connor was not about to turn down a free drink. Or two.

“Make it a double,” he grumbled, purposefully avoiding the android’s focused gaze. He could practically feel the thing staring into the side of his head, but at least it remained at a distance and wasn’t pressed against his side like a drunk, horny badge bunny anymore.

“Thanks, Jim.” Connor took the glass and tipped it back, drowning it in one go. The slide of the familiar burn down his throat, spreading throughout his limbs, did quite a lot to help ease the tension in his muscles.

He released a heavy exhale, pushed away from the bar, and got to his feet.

“You want to play plastic cop? Okay, then. Keep up,” he said, tilting his head in its direction without actually looking at it. “Or I’m leaving your ass behind.”

Connor didn’t wait for a response, only raised his hand in parting to Jimmy, and pushed open the door to let the rain-drenched Detroit night swallow him whole. But even through the sound of the rain pinging off the hood of his nearby car he could hear the even footfalls behind him, just a little too close for comfort.

Fucking androids.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #detroit: become human #human!connor #android!reader #dbh au big bang #my writing #my fanfiction #inside your wires #i make connor suffer but he's gonna be hard about it

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acourtofbookishdreams · 4 years ago

Text

Azriel ~ Different

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You have been having nightmares frequently and Azriel always is there to help you. This time, though, you finally open up about your nightmares and the things you experienced Under the Mountain.

Warning: Mentions of r*pe and sex*al assault. Please be wary.

Word Count: 1785

Azriel POV

Her screams had woken me again.

"Azriel! Azriel, no!"

This was becoming a recurrent, nightly tradition. A tradition I wished would would just simply not be anymore.

I did what I always did, bursting into her room, Truthteller at the ready to fend off whatever ailed her but we both knew it was mostly for show. Still, I would never not rush to her side, never leave Truthteller behind for the sake of the fact that the one time I didn't would inevitably be the one time something was truly, physically wrong with her and I would kick myself for treating it as any other night - especially since the fear was certainly not all that unfounded.

But it was just a nightmare. Another nightmare.

'YOUR' POV

My screams had woken him again.

He had done the chivalrous thing of course, bursting into my room with Truthteller, prepared to fight the evil lurking in the shadows he couldn't predict or trust but we both knew nothing was there to fight, it was all in my head.

Another nightmare.

One like all the rest but this time...it was worse.

"Y/N" Azriel breathes, lowering the blade

"I'm okay" I shake my head, offering a weak smile, "Routine procedure at this point, right?"

I bite my lip, trying to hold the tears back and averting my gaze. It was usually at this point that Azriel would ask if I wanted him to stay but for some reason tonight was different. He closed the door, left Truthteller on the bedside table and climbed into bed with me immediately after, no questions, no waiting for an invitation.

Of course, I knew if I told him to leave he would do so. It was always my choice. But tonight it appeared maybe he needed this contact as much as I.

"You're safe" Azriel murmurs, gathering me into his arms.

I choke on a sob, curling into his side and resting my head on his bare chest. Usually, when he was shirtless it was an effort to keep focused but at the moment it was just further proof he was here, alive and free. It was proof he was safe.

"It's not my safety that scares me" I breathe. Once again, we were breaking from normal pattern. Previous nights, it had always been my screaming waking him, he would run in, ask if I wanted him to stay, I would agree and then he'd hold me until I fell asleep.

I never talked about the nightmares I had, never. Not even the first time...

"No!" she screamed, thrashing violently in the bedsheets, almost tearing them apart, "No, don't take-NO!"

"Y/N!" Azriel yells, bursting in through the door at the same time she awakens, clutching the sheets to her chest, sweat slick hair plastered to her forehead, tears streaming down in uncontrolled rivers of fear and pain, "Y/N, what is it?!"

"Nothing, Az, I'm sorry for waking you" she sighed, running a hand through her hair, "It was just a nightmare, I've had them for a while."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel frowned, Truthteller lowering to his side.

"It wasn't necessary. I've been dealing with these since-before I got back."

"Would you..." Azriel trailed off, "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, I..." she began to reject the proposal but suddenly changed her mind, "Actually, yes, please."

Azriel nods, placing Truthteller on the bedside table before moving to open up the covers, having since nervously been put in some semblance of order as they had spoken but he stops mid-way noting that her resolve had shaken - that she was now shaking, violent sobs wracking her body.

"Y/N" Azriel said and the one word was enough to break her.

"Azriel" she sobbed, tears flowing freely again, face screwed up into an expression of unfiltered pain.

"Y/N" Azriel whispers, sitting on the bed and pulling her onto his lap. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, securing herself to him as she sobbed into his neck until the sun rose.

She had fallen asleep that way, her legs and arms secured around him in a tight embrace, tears dried and leaving her skin slightly sticky with the moisture.

He had placed her down in the bed after he had fixed the sheets with one hand, the other supporting her body, becoming limp each second sleep overtook her.

He had intended to leave but she had subconsciously clung to him with a grip so strong it had surprised him and rather than risk waking you or, worse, upsetting you, he had climbed into bed beside her, tucking her into his chest so her face rested right where his heart was.

He had found it a very fitting place for her to rest.

Azriel had done it every night since, every time a nightmare came around unless you wished otherwise, which had never happened as of yet. Even if you didn't scream out, his shadows were so attuned to you, he would sense it and come in anyhow - where you would be sitting cross legged on the bed, hugging yourself or crying or just staring at the ceiling with a dead expression on your face.

Having him with you, holding you in his arms, stroking your hair, legs intertwined and breathing synchronised. It was the best remedy for your fear.

A cure.

"Then what does scare you?" Azriel asks, his voice hesitant to bring up a memory that causes you pain.

"You do" I breathe, "My nightmares are always about you."

Azriel breathes in deeply, "I scare you?"

"No, no!" I rebuke, "No, not you personally! My nightmares always involve you...they..."

"You don't have to tell me" Azriel whispers

"I think I need to" I admit, "These dreams, they're obviously not getting better. Maybe telling someone...maybe telling someone will help."

Azriel waits patiently. Content to listen or to completely disregard everything you said if that was what you wished, the way he'd always been.

"Most nights, A-Amarantha comes back" I explain, stumbling over the name, "And this time she takes you instead of Rhys and other nights...other nights it had always been you that was taken."

"And she took you because she knew he was hiding something" Azriel confirmed, it was the little knowledge he did have of Amarantha and her motives, "So to punish him further, she took you, his only living relative, and..."

"And that's all you know" I nod, "But what you don't know is that...she didn't just punish Rhys. She punished me too."

Azriel stiffens in my arms, his hand momentarily freezing in it's soothing stroking up and down my spine.

"If any of it gets to be too much, I can stop" I say

"No" Azriel shakes his head, "You lived it. I can at least stand to hear about it, especially if it helps you."

"She used to...make me watch." I spat in disgust, "While she...basically raped Rhys I had to watch. Everything she did to him, the malice in her eyes while she did what she did, the enjoyment in knowing he was doing this not for her but to protect what he loved...Worse, we both had to pretend it was normal. That we enjoyed it. If we didn't, our facade as the Court of Nightmares would fall apart and we couldn't let that happen."

Peering up at Azriel, I stopped for a moment to assess his reaction. His eyes were hard as flint, like chips of hazel ice. He nodded softly, encouraging me to continue.

"On the odd occasion she would also...bring me into the scene. It wasn't often, she didn't like it all that much herself it was mainly just to put us on edge. Thankfully, she never made us do anything...to each other. I never touched Rhys once nor he me and I'll always thank the Mother for that but she would still...it was still..."

"You don't need to say what it was" Azriel cuts in, "I know."

Traumatising.

It was traumatising.

"So, when the nightmares come about. It's not Rhys under Am-under her. It's you. I see her with you. Some nights you're faking it like we had to, others you're genuinely enjoying it, and sometimes you're...screaming and-and begging her to stop-" My tears choke off the words and I sob loudly.

He pulls me ever closer in response, hushing me as his hands stroke my hair, "That's not me. It was never me."

"What if it could be?" I cry, "What if another one of her comes around one day and they take you. I couldn't bear it-"

"You could. I had to" Azriel admits. Both comforting and upfront. He would never lie to you and to say it would never happen again could be a lie, "When you were taken, I...Cauldron, I would always try to leave Velaris, damn the consequences. It was always Amren and sometimes Mor and Cass who would pull me off the ledge. I couldn't stand it, thinking about what she could be doing to Rhys but, to you...it was worse. Infinitely worse."

"If it ever does happen, I need you to be strong" Azriel continues, "I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening but if the Mother decides that's how things play out...I will need you to be strong, to protect yourself because the idea of you ever being hurt for the sake of me...it's not right."

"It would be" I sniffle, "To keep you safe, I would do anything. I did. Rhys did."

"You'll never have to again" Azriel resolves, kissing the top of my head, "Never again."

I exhale loudly, making a sudden decision that could change everything.

"Azriel?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too" His response was automatic. I mean, we had said it a dozen times but this...was different.

"I don't mean it like that" I admit, peering up at him sheepishly, "I'm in love with you. I have been for a...a very long time."

Azriel's silence spurs me on to speak more, explain myself.

"I understand if you don't feel the same and I'm sorry I never told you earlier but at first it was a crush and then...then I got taken and I was stuck without you for so long. After that, I knew it was love and not a crush on my part but I couldn't say anything. I just...I couldn't. But then you came in every night to help with my nightmares and that was-"

My words are cut off as Azriel takes my chin in his hand, dipping his head and kisses me. Soft, tentative, comforting. It wasn't the kind of kiss that made your toes curl or butterflies erupt, it was the kind of kiss that admitted everything words could never express.

He pulls back only slightly, leaving you nose to nose.

"I have always loved you" Azriel breathes, "From the moment I saw you barrelling into the Illyrian camps, bright smile and unruly attitude."

"I love you" I smile, tears sliding down my face, - happy tears, "So much"

"And I you."

After that, neither of you slept alone ever again.

Masterlist

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therealvinelle · 3 years ago

Note

Kinda related to the last anon's ask.... How do you think Carlisle reacted a few hundred years ago when they discovered bloodletting is actually bad for you, or things like maybe you shouldn't prescribe a chloroform/cocaine solution for a minor cough.... I mean he was probably like o shit... Whoopsie hehe my bad humans!!!

I think there have definitely been some horrors.

The discovery of hygiene, for instance.

Dr. Semmelweis discovered in the mid-19th century that doctors going from patient to patient without sterilizing themselves were spreading disease from one vulnerable person to another, causing illness and death. Now, Carlisle's nose might have helped him here, as he can likely smell disease, but he can't see germs. It's reasonable to assume that his understanding of hygiene was - for lack of a better word - contemporary. And that in turn would lead to a horrifying moment of realization once it became clear that Dr. Semmelweis was right, and Carlisle had been bringing disease to generations of patients.

To say nothing of the things that were just so normalized that he wouldn't have thought about it at all, like bloodletting or giving babies a spot of liquor to settle them.

Then you have the inverse, a new medical innovation is made, everyone's raving about it, then it turns out that you shouldn't give brandy to babies.

I think these experiences have made Carlisle very guarded when it comes to anything new within the medical field. Oh, they argue for it well, everyone's raving about the results, and all the modern science says that X procedure is a good idea - but they said the same about lobotomies, and that wasn't such a good idea, was it?!

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me - Carlisle is likely a stickler for the tried and true methods he knows work, and reads extensively about new methods and drugs before dipping his toe into new waters, and if he's not convinced then he's not doing it, fads be damned.

Chemotherapy comes to mind as something he'd say "NOPE" to unless the patient had no other treatment option, and even then he'd have an "I'm gonna regret this in a few decades" pout on his face. I imagine he thawed eventually, but chemo isn't really something that someone who's seen two centuries of medical history, hairs and all, is going to be a fan of.

Then there's the things that worked in the past but are not kosher anymore, like giving your patient a drink. Would whipping out a glass of brandy get him fired, yes. Would Carlisle, who's from a culture where alcohol was very normalized, be dying to do just that if he has a hysterical or shocked patient, also yes.

#americans especially are weird about alcohol #he isn't going to internalize those values #carlisle cullen #medical history #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #medical history is NOT my forté so feel free to correct me

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papergirllife · 4 years ago

Text

This is part of the addiction collab hosted by @127-mile.

Pairing : Underground fighter Jaehyun x step sister reader

Warnings : Criminal activity, minor character death, step siblings crossing the line, suggestive content.

Wordcount : 15k+

Pain and the constant flirting with death is a monotony to Jeong Jaehyun, the adrenaline rush he gets from it ignites a flame inside him, the only way he feels alive is by being on the edge of a great death, but he knows that he won’t die in the ring he fights in at the infamous underground fight club in Seoul, as sadist as it sounds, the chances of his opponents dying at his feet is a much larger possibility. Jaehyun isn’t a man of morals, especially not after the incident that made him escape the states after years of living away from his mother and step father in Seoul, he thought he’d be living in Michigan for good after the many years he’d been there.

Things have been like this for the past year or so, until he follows his step sister out the house in the middle of the night one day, thinking he’d get to know what dirty secret she was hiding from her father and his mother, her step mother. In the pair’s eyes, you are nothing but perfect, the family’s treasured filial little girl. What he didn’t know, is that this night, would change him forever. He had never found a cure for his malicious addiction towards pain and danger, but she might just be a close second.

The sweat drips of his face as he takes another blow to his stomach from his opponent, the familiar ache in his abdomen rings from his head to his abdomen, yet he doesn't mind the pain, he just needs to wait for the right time, to let his opponent think that he's going to win, to have his ego swell up his head so that he wouldn't anticipate Jaehyun's next move.

Jaehyun levels his body downwards as if his body was responding to the pain, that to him, is nothing at all, in fact, he's addicted to it, knowing that he'll get the upper hand by just enduring a little bit of pain, and when his opponent doesn't expect it, he punches his opponent under the jaw with all his might, the familiar crunch of bones against his knuckles brings a maniac smile to his face as he watches his opponent fall to the ground after a slight lift off from the strength of the up thrust force from his fist. A loud thump could be heard when his opponent fell on the floor, and soon after, the countdown begins.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1... And you're out!" the referee shouts, blowing his whistle right after, the familiar chime that alerts Jaehyun of his victory.

Manipulation. It's something that's become a monotony in his life. He's the best fighter in Monster, the biggest underground fighting club in Seoul, yet there will always be new people challenging him for the title. Bunch of idiots filling up his bank account in attempt to steal his glory, he's grateful for them, in this regard.

His lips stretch into a cynical smile as he looks at his opponent on the ground, the money presented to him made him let out a piercing laugh, everyone thinks he's mad, but there's still people betting for his victory whenever he turns up for a fight, people would do anything against their principles for a little more money, but yet again, what principles would the people who come here to watch people getting beaten up have, betting on him yet they have disgusted expressions on their face, whispering about his mad aggression only a few feet away. Everyone is feared by him, yet they would do anything for a few extra pennies, let principles be damned. To Jaehyun, only one person is better than those lot, the girl with the platinum blonde hair who's always betting so much money on him, but doesn't collect her earnings. He could only pick up a few details of her before the hordes of people rush to collect their winnings of the night from the handlers Johnny and Lucas. The way she always wore the same black leather jacket and black baseball cap, her hand came up to adjust her cap, her wrist glinting, was it a Rolex or a Jaeger Lecoultre? It had minimal diamonds and a classic face. Classic, that's what he thinks of her as. She likes the fancy things that aren't over the top, yet that's also the way Jaehyun describes his black themed closet. Johnny, one of the handlers, approaches him. He once asked them who she was, but the only info they gave was that she was constantly betting on him with a large sum. Jaehyun had tried to follow her multiple times, but no matter how quick he collects his earnings, she would be gone by the time he’s out.

"Do you want me to convert it to a check for you?" Johnny asked, lifting up the bag to get Jaehyun’s attention.

It was a standard after fight procedure, to have a feel at the notes in your hands, and maybe a whiff of the scent of wealth before changing it to a check, nobody would be dumb enough to walk out of here with a bag full of cash. Jaehyun passes him back the bag of money to Johnny as he heads to shower off, his thoughts filled with that mysterious girl. Hopping onto his bike before taking off for the night, leaving behind his alter persona, Mr. J, his stage name, feared by all and defeated by none.

When he reached home, there she was again, Y/N, his little step sister, sitting in front of her laptop in her oversized sweater, her bedroom door slightly ajar, allowing him a clear view of her. She's always up late working for this small programming firm, diligent and filial as always, the family's little pride of joy, he wasn't jealous, in fact he admires her tolerance towards this perfect family. It might not seem perfect to others, since their parents were both divorcees before, but it was perfect enough for him to feel like a black sheep. He hasn't felt this way towards his family before, until that incident. He pushes his thoughts away as he utters a goodnight to her. Y/N returns one to him, her soft voice calming his nerves, but that is all she says, she never asks about how he's always back so late, or how he's covered in cuts and bruises, a little more than from the time when he left the house earlier. Jaehyun retreats to his room, crashing onto his bed for a well earned night’s sleep.

It's Chuseok dinner tonight, the whole family is having dinner together, something which Jaehyun wouldn't have chose to sit through if it wasn't his mom's nagging outside his bedroom door the whole afternoon. His mom is currently asking about your job again, you didn't like talking about your achievements at work, from the way you looked down whenever she complimented you, you've grown to be so shy after he left for the states. He finds you so endearing, and not in a brotherly manner either. He knew it was wrong, but the pull you had over him clouds the remaining morals he possesses. It was only when his mom shouted at him made his chain of unholy thoughts snap.

“And when are you going to get a job, Jaehyun? Two months you've been back and your still on your 'break'. Look how hardworking Y/N is, and she actually listens to us," his mother said as he glared at him, arms folded as if she’s actually expecting a clear answer from him.

He's only asking for one dinner from his mom to not compare you to him, and here she goes taking a jab at him once again.

"When I'm ready mom, I already told you, the states were a drain for me, I just want to relax and ease back into my life here before I get a job."

His mom was going to scold him from the looks of her open stretched mouth, before she was interrupted by his stepdad, a hand laid on top of her shoulder to stop her from lashing out on her son.

“If you needed time to recover from his dad, he will too. Let him have some time to sort out his feelings. The kid's seen enough for you not to shout at him for reacting normally," Jaehyun’s stepfather said in an assuring tone in hopes to calm his wife down before this dinner turns sour like the ones before.

His mom's gaze instantly softens as she has a memory jog of what she had been through before meeting his stepdad, those were hard times for her, leaving that bastard with young Jaehyun to start a clean slate. Yet the court cruelly allowed his father to have co custody over him, and as per his father's request to have him from the age of 13 to 18, then making him stay for university as well, thinking back, he should've just left even though his ass of a father agreed to pay for everything.

Jaehyun silently goes back to eating his dinner, his interest peeking up as he caught you looking at him silently with an unreadable expression. Was it worry? Curiosity? He had a desire to know, to understand the thoughts swimming through your head at this very moment. He held your gaze for a few seconds before you stopped, and much to Jaehyun’s relief, his stepdad had switched the topic before his mom could pin anything on him further, telling everyone about a class clown in his class he teaches.

It was 2 am and Jaehyun was laying in bed, music playing softly as he scrolled through the news on his phone, but his music session was interrupted by a sound coming from the hallway, he had his earphones on, but the break between songs gave him a chance to focus and catch the shadow of a frilly dress rush by the crack of his door, it could only be one person, Y/N, who owned dresses like this. Soon, the familiar tune of their front door opening rang. He silently follows you out, slipping out of the door before it shuts, he sees you waiting at the lift lobby of their floor, eyes looking around in worry. The lift arrives quickly at this odd hour, he rushes in right after you, his body immediately caging yours against the wall of the lift, making your eyes open as wide as saucers, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Where do you think you're going at such an hour baby sister?" Jaehyun asked in a menacing tone, the familiar one sided smirk gracing his face.

Jaehyun could see the fear in your eyes as you momentarily froze at such a close distance.

“And I thought you were our family's little angel, never involved in anything deemed shameful, yet here you are, caught sneaking out by your brother. What a pity." Jaehyun said before he tutted at you, a coy expression on his face.

Jaehyun leans back to the other side of the lift, his eyes scanning you up and down, taking in your pretty legs and adorable lips that were set in a slight pout.

“Let me come with, I want to see what my baby sister does for real fun. Is it a boy? A girl? Or both?" Jaehyun needs to know what the family’s precious pearl is hiding.

The way you shook your head as your eyes were avoiding his made the beast inside him threatening to break free. He tugs you over into his embrace with the ribbon from the bow of your dress. His chest rumbling in joy as he felt the curves of your body, and the way your eyes looked into his in awe before looking away from his intense gaze. His arms wrap around your waist, head placed on top of yours.

“I came out in a rush and forgot my jacket, you're fine with lending some warmth to your dear brother who's only in his pajama shirt, right? Like the good girl you are?" Jaehyun’s voice laced with a sweetness that could make any lady drop on their knees for him, and he knows it, just like being in the ring, toying with emotions is a game he aces at as well.

Jaehyun didn't receive an answer, just a shy little nod as permission, your eyes avoiding his trained gaze on you. He finds you so, so adorable now, but his thoughts linger somewhere darker, his need to corrupt you evident in his lustful eyes, pupils blown wide and dark, his hand holding onto your waist in a possessive manner.

Jaehyun could see the way you swallowed down your nervousness, fingers playing with the hem of your dress as you stared down onto your baby pink ballet flats. When the doors of the lift open to the ground level of the condominium, Jaehyun slings an arm over your shoulder and guided you out of the building.

"Where are you taking us, my dear baby sister?" Jaehyun asked in a hushed tone by your ear, stopping you in your tracks for a second as he let you lead him.

Jaehyun could see the way you shivered after he spoke into your ear, he adores how responsive you are to him, and he hasn't even touched you yet.

"J-just around the block," you stuttered.

Jaehyun wasn't expecting to see anyone or anything that would surprise him, you're most probably meeting your boyfriend or at most the wildest he would give you is directing him to the night club located a few blocks down the road. What he doesn't expect is to find you crouching down suddenly to feed some stray dogs at the alley in between your condo and the convenience store.

“This is what you do for fun, little sister? Feeding dogs?" Jaehyun deadpanned.

"Dad says I can't have any, and they lost their mother to a car accident a month ago, I just want to help them," you said as you reached into the pockets of your dress for more doggy sticks, looking even tinier than you did before, somewhat childlike to Jaehyun, given how pure of an action this is.

Jaehyun didn't know what came over him, but he crouched down next to you and asked for their names.

"The sister is Bella, the brother is Toto," you said before focusing back on your furry friends.

When the two of you were done, Jaehyun took your hand in his and dragged you to the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" you asked as you tried to keep up with Jaehyun, not used to walking at such a speed in your ballet flats, trying your best to not let them slip from your feet.

“You successfully snuck out of house and you're not going somewhere at least a mile away? The night is still young, Y/N. Let's go get ourselves a mini adventure," Jaehyun persuaded, his tone was rather cheerful, which would be foreign to you, given that Jaehyun mostly kept to himself at all times.

Jaehyun led you to his bike, his hands helping you up front and securing a helmet on top of your head. Your eyes saw the reflection of Jaehyun without a helmet on the rearview mirror, the one he gave you must've been his.

"What about you then?" you asked after you swiveled your head to check if he had somehow found another helmet.

“There aren't many cars at this time, and I trust my own skills. Don't worry, it's just a quick drive close by," Jaehyun reassured you as he started the engine of his bike.

When Jaehyun pressed on the accelerator, you weren't prepared for the jerk and lurched back, which is why he put you in front of him, other than the fact that he likes the feeling of your body against his of course. Jaehyun loves the feeling of being on the bike, the way the wind pierces his skin and the speed gives him the adrenaline kick just like his fights, but instead of being caged in a ring, he feels free.

The journey came to a halt when the two of you reached someone's house, a large landed property, which was a sign of wealth in a city like Seoul, Jaehyun guided you into the back door that leads to the big pool, all the lights in the house were off.

"Jaehyun, are you sure we're allowed here?" you asked in a worried tone as your eyes scan around for a presence.

"Chill, baby sis. This is my friend's place, he's okay with me coming here all the time," Jaehyun said as he lightly pushed your back, guiding you further into the estate.

Jaehyun started stripping right in front of you when he halted by the pool, which caused you turn around as an immediate response. Jaehyun let out a laugh at how you reacted, knowing that you’d be just like how he expected, shy and innocent.

“I still have clothes on, baby sister. Don't worry," Jaehyun chirped behind you.

Jaehyun was leaning against the rail, waiting for you to turn around, and when you did, albeit slowly, just in case, you immediately turned back.

"You said you had clothes on!" and he did, but only his underwear.

“I said some, and I'm not naked. Why are you making such a big deal?" Jaehyun teased.

Jaehyun saunters over to you, hands on your waist, pulling the bow free from your dress, then he leans down to your ear.

"Why don't we take a swim, little one?" Jaehyun asked in a hushed but persuasive tone.

Jaehyun then steps away to give you space and heads into the pool, your eyes wide like you're under his spell, silently pulling down your dress to reveal a simple pastel pink cotton set. Jaehyun loves how innocent you look, the swell of your curves just nice, your smooth baby like skin makes you look even younger than you are, Jaehyun stopped swimming to admire you from front to back as you joined him in the water, but not before testing the temperature of it with your feet first.

The two of you were genuinely swimming for the first fifteen minutes, until Jaehyun took a break to admire your figure swimming freely, he could see how you've relaxed a bit since the two of you had first gotten here. When you reached the end of the pool to take a breather, Jaehyun used quick strokes to get to you, stopping a mere millimeters away from your face, hands on the either side of you, leaning his weight onto the pool, his head cocked to side in great interest.

"You look beautiful."

Jaehyun has never said that to his flings, but he'll make an exception for his dear little sister, you did tolerate his annoying antics as a child. Jaehyun leans towards your face, his lips dangerously close.

"Jaehyun... We shouldn't, we're siblings," you protested weakly.

“Step siblings. We aren't related by blood, remember that, Y/N. I know you want me as much as I want you. I'm not blind, I've seen the way your eyes lingered when I walked around the house without a shirt after my shower, I've seen the way you reacted for the past hour towards my advances. Let yourself go, Y/N, do what you want for a change," there it was again, Jaehyun and his silver tongue.

Jaehyun suppressed the rumble in his chest when he felt your hesitant lips on his, the peach flavored lip balm igniting his taste buds, craving to taste more of you, his arms tracing your back towards your butt, giving it a light spank, a moan finally slipping out of your lips, breaking the heated session between the two of you.

"You like that, baby? You like how rough I treat you?" Jaehyun questioned, but it sounded more like a statement.

Jaehyun lifts you up from the pool and onto the edge as he opens up your thighs for him, sucking and biting onto the insides of your upper thighs, dangerously close to his destination. You had tangled your fingers into Jaehyun's wet hair, pulling at it when he spanked you again, your whines of his name driving him crazy.

Suddenly, someone who sounded like he was in his late forties, came out and shouted at the two of you for trespassing. Jaehyun quickly lifts himself up from the pool and carries you over his shoulder as he picks up all of your discarded clothes and quickly drives away. He could feel you shuddering from the cold after a while, and stops his bike to allow the two of you to get dressed, grateful that they weren’t any cars on the road at this time.

"Jaehyun! You said it belonged to your friend's!" you nagged as you tried to sound as mad as anyone half dressed and embarrassed could be.

“If I didn't say that, you wouldn't have gone in. Plus, I did it many times before without getting caught. This proves how loud you were, baby," Jaehyun teased, but it clearly was the truth.

Jaehyun made you shut your mouth in an instant after he mentioned how loud you were for him. It egged on his ego to see how shy you are now, just because he mentioned what happened minutes prior. Jaehyun lifted you up his bike once again to head back home, but not before giving your neck a kiss, he could see the way you were more relaxed after his little affection. He was going to have fun corrupting a sweet innocent girl like you, mind games are his favourite pass time.

When the two of you got back, both of you retreated into your respective rooms after saying goodnight. You and Jaehyun acted as if nothing happened the next day, Jaehyun going to the gym for most of the day, and you staying locked in your room.

It was only two nights later, after Jaehyun's next fight when the two of you were alone, Jaehyun got back from the fight with cuts on his arms, his opponent had worn old leather gloves that scratched him up and he wonders if the tears in the gloves were purposely used to hurt people, he could've called a time out, but he wasn't a pussy. He was running the scratches under cold water in the kitchen sink when he accidentally cursed aloud at the pain. That's when he heard footsteps coming out, fearing it to be his mom, he quickly closed the tap and dashed under the kitchen island. The footsteps were getting nearer, but instead of his mom's normal house slippers, ones decorated with bunny ears came into his view, followed by your head.

“The whole house could hear you, thank goodness they're fast asleep. Come out. I'll patch you up," you called out in a hushed tone before reaching a hand out to help him up.

Jaehyun followed you into your room, greeted by the desk lamp illuminating your closed laptop and the book shelf next to the desk, while the fairy lights casted a warm glow over your lilac sheets decorated with many cute plushies. That’s when he realised that he's never been into your room.

"Sit anywhere you like."

Jaehyun took a seat on your bed as you dug through your cabinets, coming out with bandages and ointment of all sorts. You took a seat on your study chair, wheeling to him, taking a closer look at his wounds.

"Did a cat attack you or something?"

Jaehyun sees you wheel back by kicking your legs cutely, hurrying into the bathroom and coming back out with a washcloth. Jaehyun scratches the back of his neck, thinking of how to answer you.

"I...

"I know, I don't go to these places but I know of their existence," you replied in a rather mature tone, which was shocking for Jaehyun, since you constantly acted like a child half the time, but not in a bratty way, just filial.

"Is that why you never asked me why I come home late at night with bruises?"

Jaehyun sees you nod as you started wiping his wounds gently, the blood going onto the clothe that will definitely leave stains.

"How are you going to explain the blood when you wash it?" Jaehyun questioned, worried that someone’s going to find out about his late night rendezvous.

"Menstrual cycle," you answered, as if was the most obvious thing in the world, which made Jaehyun feel like an idiot at that moment.

The way you're patching up his wounds was pulling at Jaehyun's heartstrings the wrong way, Jaehyun doesn't want to fall for anyone, and certainly not for his step sister. Once you were done, you were looking at him with those innocent doe eyes, Jaehyun couldn't really tell what was up with his attraction towards you, was it purely sexual? Was it affection? He pushed those thoughts away when he pulled you by the waist, his lips capturing yours in a frantic matter as his hands make way to under your nightgown to hold onto the flesh of your thighs. The roughness of his palms sending shivers up your spine. Jaehyun took this as a good sign and started toying at the waistband of your panties. He breaks off the kiss to let his lips travel southwards, his teeth nibbling at your mounds, what surprised him was the lack of bra.

“What happened to being my good girl? Why aren't you wearing a bra? Are you tempting me on purpose? Hm?" Jaehyun said after bouncing you on his lap slightly.

“I was going to sleep. Didn't know you'll need help."

The way you answered so breathlessly when he continued his ministrations on you only urged him to act on his desires further. He reached a hand up to pinch at your nipple, but your hand accidentally slipped and held onto his arm instead of his hair, which made him wince due to the fresh wound, and the heated session between the two of you was immediately ceased.

"Jaehyun, are you alright? We can do this another time. You should let your wounds heal first," you said in a worried tone before checking his arm once more.

Jaehyun was cursing at himself, but nodded at your suggestion, not wanting to feel anymore pain after that fight. Jaehyun pecked your lips one last time before bidding you goodnight and carried you off his lap.

"See you tomorrow, baby."

Jaehyun looks at his opponent straight in the eye, he wasn't supposed to fight tonight, but there was an empty spot and he wanted to make up for the off day he took to heal from the scratch wounds, he doesn’t mind though, his hands had been itching to punch someone or something for the past few days now, just like a junkie hooked on drugs, he’s hooked onto the feeling of hurting someone. His opponent tonight was twice his size, but according to Lucas, nowhere near his standards, since the standard earnings for this match is relatively lower from the ones he tends to fight in.

Jaehyun didn't even have to manipulate his opponent into thinking he was on the weaker scale, he took him down like the countless sandbags he broke in the gym, big but definitely does zero damage. Once the match was over, he spotted that girl again, ushering her way out of the crowd. Instead of following the usual procedures of collecting his earnings, Jaehyun made his way out of the club.

"Jae! Your earnings!" Johnny shouted, making a mistake of calling name by his name, thank goodness people can’t differentiate between Jae and J.

Jaehyun couldn't bother about the money now, he had to know who she was. He followed the streak of blonde hair into a car park nearby, which was empty since office workers are long gone by now. She made her way to a sleek black BMW i8, not what he had expected, but certainly unique compared to the Mercedes he keeps seeing at Gangnam District. However, before he could approach her, a hooded figure was behind her, a pocket knife produced from his right pocket. Right when Jaehyun was about to shout a warning at her, a flash of movement happened.

She turned around and kicked him squarely in the chest, he wasn't buff, and from what Jaehyun heard, that was a straight kick to the heart, she must be professionally trained. The figure fell down with his hand clenching his heart, he had a surprised expression, which was quickly replaced by a scowl, he definitely wasn't expecting that. She then kicked the pocket knife far away, her body slid down expertly with her handbag out reached, the huge steel chain of her handbag wrapped around the figure's neck once she kneeled down onto one of his arms, a huge crack resonating from the action.

“What kind of fucking psycho bitch are you?! I just wanted some money!"

She didn't reply, instead she dragged his body to a nearby pillar which had the emergency button for dire situations like this, she lifted him up and hit his head against the button. Immediately, the whole car park's alarm was triggered and soon after some guards rushed to see what happened. Once she saw the guards coming, she released the chains and threw him on the grown, Jaehyun could see the obvious frown on her face, but not any other feature due to the baseball cap she was wearing.

"You messed with the wrong bitch," her voice was as cold as ice.

When she opened her car trunk to retrieve something, Jaehyun approached her with his hands held high, he doesn’t want to trigger her any further, nor wish to fight a lady, especially not her, even if it’s just self defence.

"Miss?" Jaehyun called to her uncertainly.

When she looked back with her head held higher to see who it was, Jaehyun was floored. How could this be?

"Y/N? It was you all along? You're the girl with the blonde hair who always placed bets on me?" Jaehyun questioned, thinking that this must be some sort of big mistake.

You didn't know whether getting your latest Bottega Veneta ruined by some motherfucker was unluckier, or the fact that your step brother just found out about your secret, how could you not figure out it was his voice?

"Jaehyun, I... Let's talk, I'll take us somewhere," you said with uncertainty, but your eyes weren’t avoiding his strong gaze anymore, nothing like the little step sister he thought he once knew.

You didn't know what was Jaehyun thinking, other than the obvious disbelief on his face. The two of you were silent in the car ride, you didn't really know where to take him for a secluded and life altering conversation, other than the cliff which overlooks Seoul's skyline, you hope there aren't any couples here tonight.

"How long have you known about me going to Monster?" Jaehyun asked when he could no longer stand the questioning in his head, piercing the silence.

"Since the first time," you said, which made Jaehyun’s head jerk in surprise, but quickly composed himself to quickly solve this puzzle of mysteries.

"How did you know?"

“There are some things that I can tell just from my observation and just a bit of help from social networking. Like how I know you take a girl home after every match then leave in the middle of the night coming home with a scent of cheap perfume lingering in the air," you didn’t know why you wanted to add the last part, maybe you were a bit tired of playing the cat and mouse game with him when he has so many people lining up for him.

“You're not that clean either, are you? How did the money come about? And what would your dad think about this? Or my mom who thinks you're the most precious daughter in the world? What if I slipped up and accidentally told them about this little roleplay you have going on here?" Jaehyun taunted, a natural reaction to how you had threw around his private matters in such a snide manner.

"You wouldn't, because I know the reason why you came back to America so abruptly," you replied in a calm and cool tone, suppressing your anger.

Jaehyun's face instantly paled at the mention of his past.

"What do you mean?" Jaehyun asked in a rather hollow voice.

“Jeong Jaehyun, birthname Jeong Yoonoh, was born in Seoul, South Korea on 14th of February 1997. Your father is Jeong Eunsan who divorced your mother and moved to Connecticut on his own, he's an alcoholic and drug addict, he filed for a lawsuit to have you in his custody for five years for education reasons after he came clean from alcohol and drugs, the United States High Court approved of his appeal. So you left Seoul in 2010 and moved in with your father. But he got back on alcohol and drugs didn't he? That's why the two of you fought."

"How did you know all this?!"Jaehyun rounded on you from the passenger seat, seemingly wanting to hit something or someone for the frustration he’s feeling, but held himself back when he remembers it’s you, and nonetheless, a girl, he doesn’t hit girls. His eyes were a dark shade of brown, nearly black as his voice dips a lower intonation, the sight dangerous to anyone but you.

"I did some digging of my own," you replied calmly.

"Who are you? Are you even the baby sister I knew when I was a kid? Or the girl I took out for a ride just a few days ago? Who are you and what do you want from me?! And how are you filthy rich?! What do you even do for a living?! I feel like my whole life's a lie!" Jaehyun spats out, feeling like the ground underneath him shifted drastically, on the edge of loosing his footing, just like how he could barely comprehend what’s happening now.

“I don't want anything from you, Jaehyun. Some lies are said because they're easier to accept than the truth," you answered, hoping that this will be a suffice explanation to him, but knowing Jaehyun, you doubt it.

"I can't believe you lied to me, to our family, after all this time?!"

“Like you weren't planning to mess with me, seducing your little step sister, eager to expose my identity to my dad. A kettle calling a pot black, don’t you think? Do you enjoy inflicting pain upon others and yourself so much that you'll hurt anyone in your grasp? Your mom, your dad, the girls you slept with and left alone with broken hearts the next day, aren't those people enough for you? You think you're the only one who knows how to toy with people's hearts here, Jaehyun? What I'm doing to you now, is just a taste of your own medicine. You think I'm still that little naive 7 year old girl you had play dates with? You were gone for so long, things happen, and people change, and so did you Jaehyun."

Jaehyun's heart sank as he heard your piercing words he didn't mean to leave you as a child or become the monster he is today he didn't mean for any of this to happen, yet you lied to him after all this time the money, the fight club, your whole personality or what he thought it was all just a front.

His fingernails dug crescents into his palm as he took in all this information. For the first time, in so long, he was the one who was manipulated. Jeong Jaehyun defeated in his own game.

'Who is Y/N really? The girl with the frilly dresses who has her cute round glasses on whenever she's on her computer? Or the girl who sneaked out late at night in her leather jacket with all the money she wanted in the world?' Jaehyun thought to himself.

“Just tell me, how are you this rich? Where do you get all this money?" Jaehyun asked, not letting you off the hook, if it’s what he wants, you’ll give, it’s his consequent if the answer scarres him for life.

“Do you know how I played you so well, Jae? Because it's my job, I put up fake fronts for other people's real identities to be hidden. And you'd be surprised by how many people require these services from me. You think I'm the cruel one here? Open your eyes, pretty boy, it's a cruel world, and if you're not even half as evil as it is, then you'll naturally be the ones that are being deceived on your little fabricated rainbow bridge. I know what you did Jaehyun, I did some digging before you came back from the states, mom and dad bougt your little front, but I didn't. I was shocked when I made the discovery, just to let you know, he was pronounced dead by impact to his head. You and I both know what that means."

Jaehyun couldn't believe what he was hearing, he thought he had successfully left his past behind him. Only to have you uncover his crimes like popping a lid of a beer bottle, his hands are shaking from the shock of hearing you speak of what went down after he left his father.

“How am I still here then? Why isn't anyone cuffing me back?" Jaehyun questioned aloud, his mind completely mushed after hearing about your true profession and the truth of his sudden return from the states.

“I was there that same day to make amends of your faults, I was curious of how you were doing there. Only to find out that you weren't the same person anymore. They were worried every single day, I just wanted to make sure nothing happened to you, little did I know my skills would be needed there instead," you weren’t holding a grunge for what he’s became today, but till this day, it’s still hard to accept the fact that he was a whole different person entirely now.

"You cleaned up the body?" Jaehyun prodded further, hoping that you weren’t one of those cleaners for crimes.

“Do I look like I'll get my hands dirty? I was living there for two months just to observe, and I found out that there would be loan sharks asking for money everyday, not the most believable lot, carrying huge sticks and sometimes even knives, no? They even had criminal records beforehand. So I hacked into the security system and did some movie magic. The video of you going home and leaving with bloody hands was deleted and replaced with the video of the loan sharks looking for your father from the day before. And so the court was convinced that they were the killers given that they had existing brutality offences. And that's how I got you off the hook," you explained, somewhat proud that you could pull something off without any preparations at that time.

“Why did you help me? In America, the money I earn now, it's all your doing. Why?" Jaehyun questioned.

You didn't really know why either, you helped him escape his crime in America because you took pity on him, after all, he was in your life for a short period of time. But you couldn't really put a finger on why you wanted to help him here, other than the fact you did get money from his fights, albeit not that decent of an amount compared to your other earnings.

“Because my dad loves you, he wouldn't want anything to happen to you. If he knew, it would kill him, and I do appreciate your mom being in my life, this is the most I can do for them. As for the bets, it's just as form of gambling and quick cash, nothing to it."

Jaehyun hummed, his mind in deep thought.

"So is anything going to change between the two of us?" Jaehyun was directing the question to you as much as to himself.

You fingered the tiffany on your wrist, ignoring his line of sight.

"Nothing is going to change, I'll continue to bet on your fights at night, then I'll be your little sister in the morning who stays out of your way," you finally looked up after replying his question, an unreadable smile on your lips that leaves Jaehyun curious.

"Deal," it’s not like there’s any other better way to access the situation.

"I'll drive you back to the club to retrieve your bike."

You decided to crash at Irene and Seulgi's for the night, not knowing how to comprehend what just happened. However, when you got there, a man you didn't recognize was sitting on the couch. You quickly pulled your gun from the back of your pants, pointing at the back of his head.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" You questioned in a cold steely voice that you used only in missions you once particapated in.

When the man turned back, a handsome face greeted you, his brow quirked up in a questioning manner.

"I should be asking you that, little girl."

“I'm no little girl, answer the goddamn question!" you were loosing your cool, scared that something happened to Irene and Seulgi.

"Y/N! Put the gun down, that's Irene's boyfriend!" Seulgi said as she came out of her bedroom, hands flailing, not knowing whether to grab your gun or stand in front of the man.

"Seulgi? You know this man? What do you mean Irene's boyfriend? Why haven't I ever met him? you asked, lowering your gun slightly.

"I go to the toilet for one minute and I see my baby pointing a gun at my boyfriend that she's not supposed to know, just fucking great," Irene said before plopping down the sofa next to her boyfriend, hands reached up to massage her temples.

"So he's not a threat?"

"Not to us, you can say," Seulgi chipped in.

“I'll do the talking Seulgi ah, don't interrupt. Y/N, this is Junmyeon my boyfriend of three years. And Junmyeon, this is Y/N, she's like a sister to me, so don't you dare hurt a single strand of her hair.”

“Wait a minute. Junmyeon, as in Kim Junmyeon, EXO Suho, Kim Enterprise CEO? Head of criminal syndicate EXO Suho?" You spewed out, bewildered that the man of many identities, and many of them dangerous, was sitting on this very couch that you’re too familiar with.

“That's why I didn't want to let you know. I didn't want to rope you into any danger, you're so young Y/N, you shouldn't be involved with anyone who has any relations with a mafia leader," Irene explained in a disappointed tone, her head looking down in shame.

"Irene rejected him a few times because of your safety, and also Yeri's, but since she's at London, she's much safer," Seulgi supplied, hoping that telling you this would decrease the chances of you having an outburst of emotions, you must be facing some difficulties if you’re here at this hour.

You sat down on the couch, trying to take in all the information that's being thrown at you for the past 15 minutes or so, your brain trying to connect the dots and piece a proper response to this.

“Y/N ah, why are you here tonight? And why is your favorite bag in shreds? Did someone attack you?!" Irene quickly takes your face into her hands, checking for any injuries, then checking your hands, gasping at the slight scratch.

"What happened?!"

“Someone wanted to rob me on the way back after I came out from your fight club. In other words he's probably suffering from a rib damage, skull damage, et cetera," you replied in a monotonous way, tired from all the events of late.

"I’ve taught you well," Seulgi said with a proud smile on her face, she was, after all the one who taught you her vast knowledge of martial arts.

"Thanks Seulgi," you said, thinking back to the time when you first joined them, but your thoughts were cut short when your eyes laid back on the man in front of you.

"Anyways, tell me a bit about yourself, Junmyeon, since we're going to be stuck with each other until end of time, unless you deicide to cross Irene, then I'll have to feed your head to the hounds," you added the last part in a threatening tone.

“Feisty just like her mom. I'm Junmyeon of Kim Enterprise, the oldest brother of the four Kim brothers. And I'm also EXO's Suho, Seoul's largest illegal weapons manufacturer," Suho rattled off the facts that everyone in Seoul knows, but this isn’t going to cut if for you.

“I know that already. I did my research when I helped Kim Jongin transfer his dirty funds to the offshore accounts I set up for him. Tell me how your family started EXO," you suggested, always had an interest to how such a large scale syndicate started off.

“My great grandfather was part of a Japanese weapons manufacturing base, he was a spy for the Korean government many decades ago. He left the mission after he had successfully acquired enough knowledge on how to make their weapons, along with establishing connections inside so that he'll always receive updates. When the war was going on, he reported everything to the Korean government, then the war ended and he started his own business since that was the only knowledge he held worthy of putting bread on the table, and so the business has been going on ever since. Since I told you my origins, tell me yours, that is only fair," Junmyeon prompted.

“I met Irene when I was 14. I had no friends then, other than Yeri who was a year older than me. Irene spotted us exchanging a perfume bottle of this bitch who bullied us into a bottle full of onion juice, since she liked spraying it onto her face obnoxiously. Yeri caused a distraction while I hid underneath the stands, exchanging the bottles. She saw everything and offered us a job in her greatest money heist, I stole a key card while Yeri made a fuss about wanting to see her mom who doesn't even work there. After we pulled that off, Irene and Seulgi took us in, Irene teaching me her digital hacking skills and Seulgi teaching me her martial arts skills everyday after school. Then I branched out on my own after acquiring a different set of skills I learned on the dark web."

"Let me guess, the off shore accounts?"

"Bingo. I wanted to be independent too, can't always depend on Irene, and it proved me right, since she's probably going to get married and stuff soon,” you said, eyeing him expectantly.

"Hey, who said I was leaving you?" Irene complained, a hand slapping your head lightly before going back to your wounds.

"You'll have real babies to baby in the future, I'm excited," you said sincerely, knowing that a couple this good looking would have the most beautiful children in the world.

"To be off the hook?" Junmyeon quipped in.

"That as well," you said before bursting into laughter at Irene’s shocked expression.

"I can't believe my boyfriend and my baby is ganging up on me," Irene said in a huff.

"Seulgi's enjoying the show," you said after glancing at her gleeful expression.

"I live with this woman, I can't talk shit about her, so do please continue."

“I'm done patching you up Y/N, Seulgi prepare her room, she's gonna stay here tonight. And as for you mister, you better head home, don't keep your mom worried, I'll see you tomorrow,” Irene said before ushering a reluctant Junmyeon.

All of you said your goodbyes to Junmyeon, grateful that Irene knew you needed some time alone. You quickly washed up and changed into comfy pjs, Irene sitting on your bed waiting for you to talk. You crawled into bed, laying down your head onto her leg.

“I'll say it once, and I'll say it again. I'm really grateful for what you've given me, although illegal for most things, but I can't imagine life any other way. So please don't kill me because he found out."

"Who?! Jaehyun?!" Irene asked, immediately assuming the worst ‘he’ she could possibly think of.

"Yeah. He rushed out from the club, and followed me. He's not telling them anything, but we had a talk about his past and stuff."

"Was he shaken up?"

“He handled it as best as he could you can say, he's a fighter, not a killer. It's different to us compared to him," you guessed.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about the Junmyeon thing as well, I just wanted to keep you safe."

“It's fine. He's nice, for now. And I want you to be happy too," you said genuinely.

"Thank you. What about Jaehyun? What is he to you?" Irene asked, always had a hunch about your feelings.

"A friend."

"That's all?"

“I'm not going to fall for him when all he does is pick up girls after fights. What about the Kim brothers? Are they hot?" you asked, curious to see what else the family holds.

“Jongin's a player, but you already know that. Jongdae's married with a daughter, and Minseok is a mystery. But I don't want you marrying into a mafia family, Y/N. Don't make the mistakes I'm going to make, I want you to be safe," Irene lectured.

"I'm fine, I can protect myself perfectly well."

“I just want what's best for you. It's getting late, I'll make you a cup of tea in Bunny and Rabbit's take away cup tomorrow, okay? In case you get there after they wake up," Irene said, mindful of your parents.

You smiled at how thoughtful Irene is, always leaving her cafe's paper cups in her home as a decoy for you to use when you get back in the morning.

"Yeah. Goodnight mom."

“I'm your sister, Y/N ah, stop making me sound old. And Goodnight to you too."

“Here are two tickets for a cruise trip,” you said, handing the tickets to your dad.

Your dad’s eyes light up at your surprise, along with your step mother’s who stopped watching her latest drama, letting it run on the tv.

“What? How come?” Your dad asks as he reads the details of the tickets.

“My boss gave me a larger bonus this time around, so I decided to get you guys something, since dad would be off for summer holidays in a week’s time, it’s just in time to board the cruise,” you explained.

“Honey, you should spend your hard earned money on yourself.”

“It’s okay dad, I have enough money, don’t worry. I wanted to get you this, since you were so stressed about your students the other day. A change of scenery from the university would be good for you,” you said before taking a seat on the sofa across them.

“Y/N’s right, you deserve a holiday this summer. Thank you so much Y/N, you’ve always been such a good daughter to us,” your stepmom said, grateful that you never once shunned her off like most people she had read about would.

“No problem. It’s getting late, I’ll head to bed. Night dad, night mom,” you said before giving your dad a hug.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You got into your room and shut your door before texting Irene.

‘It worked, I can attend the gala with you.’

‘Great. Can’t wait to see you there.’

It was around 1 a.m., when someone interrupted you from your work by knocking lightly on your door. You got up to open it to reveal Jaehyun’s fluffy mob of hair poking into the small gap of your door.

“This is unexpected.”

“Can’t I come check in my little sister?” Jaehyun replied with a boyish smile.

“Right, very convincing,” you said, sarcasm evident.

You are skeptic of his motive, but nonetheless allowed him into your room before anyone comes into the hallway. Jaehyun laid down on your bed, his large frame taking up most of the space, so you opted sitting on your desk chair.

“What are you really here for?”

Jaehyun sat up from your bed, his dimples obvious because of his cheeky smile.

“My little sister truly knows me best, doesn’t she? I’ve been wondering why are you suddenly sending away your dad and my mom for two months straight?Definitely not because of some bonus you made up.”

“My step brother still knows me best, doesn’t he? There’s this gala hosted by Kim Industries, and my friend’s going, but she doesn’t know anyone there. Since I know some of the attendees, I volunteered to attend it with her,” you supplied, leaving out the part about Junmyeon.

“You’re going to a gala without a date?” Jaehyun asked like it was the most outrageous thing ever.

“I just thought of going alone,” just like back in junior high’s prom.

“Can I come?”

“You like galas?” you were surprised to say the least.

“Just because I fight for a living, doesn’t mean I can’t do elegance,” Jaehyun said in a defensive tone, deeming your shocked expression somewhat offensive.

“Sure, just don’t get bored and beg to go home,” knowing how impatient he is.

“As long as you get me a suit,” Jaehyun said before crashing onto your bed, he had taken a liking to lying down onto your fluffy sheets.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he takes in your dress for tonight’s gala.

Jaehyun stared at you with awe in his eyes as he does a once over, not the ones that he usually does that make him look like a predator eyeing its prey, but a look filled with slight admiration and wonder that would’ve made your blush obvious if it weren’t for the artificial blush on your cheeks.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Dior suites you.”

“Thank you.”

You were wearing an A line Louis Vuitton skater dress with a belt of the same brand to highlight the curve of your waist. You were wearing your usual red lip gloss that Jaehyun first caught eye of. Heels and bag that matches Jaehyun’s suit, and last but not least, a diamond necklace from Van Cleef and Arpel’s adorning your collar.

“Why are you driving?” Jaehyun complained whilst getting into the passenger seat of your car.

“Because this is my car, and you drive like a reckless mad man on your bike,” you deadpanned as you revved the engine to life.

“Fine, fair enough,” Jaehyun said in a sulking tone.

Jaehyun wanted to give a go at your car, but obviously you cherish it like your own bone and flesh, given its price, making Jaehyun grumble in the passenger seat.

The venue of the gala was the Kim family’s holiday estate up on a cliff, the location, based on your knowledge, costed a fortune that even you’ll have to save up from at least 20 jobs. You parked your car inside the estate’s huge underground parking space, next to cars that costed just as much, at least you don’t look like a fish among sharks here.

A servant guided you up to the center court of the estate, where everything is happening, a waiter immediately passing you and Jaehyun a flute of champagne.

“Do you always attend fancy parties?” Jaehyun asked as he takes in the scene.

“No, this is my first,” you said before taking a sip from the glass.

“Then how are you so calm?”

“I’ve been in enough life threatening situations that these parties don’t have an effect on me anymore,” you said as you scan the crowd for Irene.

“Sounds interesting, where do I sign up?”

“That adrenaline seeker inside you would kill you one day.”

“Can’t help it, I’m addicted to danger.”

“Y/N, you’re here,” Irene said after struggling through a crowd, Junmyeon following close by.

“Irene, Junmyeon. I know who are the best dressed couple tonight,” you said in awe at their matching dress and suit, looking like modern royalty.

“And you must be Jaehyun. I’m Irene, Y/N’s close friend. How nice to finally meet you,” Irene introduced herself before sticking a hand out for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Irene,” Jaehyun said as he shook her hand with a friendly smile.

“This is my boyfriend, Junmyeon,” Irene gestured at her beau.

The two men shook hands and gave each other polite smiles. Irene directed you and Jaehyun to your respective seats for dinner after Junmyeon excused himself to get ready for his speech. The three of you sat down at the table as dinner started. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, other than the applauses given to Junmyeon after his aspiring speech on how he would improve the company came to an end.

There were people at the table who questioned Irene of her background rather rudely but you didn’t take any drastic actions other than throwing back mildly sarcastic remarks because Irene kept a hand on your knee, squeezing your leg whenever you’re on the edge of crossing the line, with Junmyeon resisting to laugh at the such an amusing scene.

“You should’ve let Y/N continue, I love how she roasted Aunt Soohyun about her wig being bigger than her brain,” Junmyeon whispered.

“Junmyeon! Don’t encourage her.”

Jaehyun was mostly silent, until Junmyeon chatted him up about the recent football season. Jaehyun was surprisingly helpful, asking the waiter to refill your cup of water when you finished, reminding you that your lip gloss had faded significantly after you finished your meal. He even helped you hold your hair back as you had dinner.

After dinner, all of the guest started socialising, walking and talking freely. At one point when Jaehyun left your side for the washroom, a handsome man made strides towards your direction.

“Y/N. It’s been a long time,” the blonde male said.

“Kun. How long has it been? Two three years?”

“I suppose so, and you still look at beautiful as ever.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself too,” complimenting him back.

Qian Kun, the CEO of WayV, a communications company in China and Korea, as well as some other hidden companies that not everyone knows about, the reason he contacted you the first place years, and one of the very few customers you slept with.

“What brings you here tonight?”

“I’m friends with Irene.”

“What a small world, isn’t it? Junmyeon and her look so well together, imagine their kids.”

Kun was pointing at Junmyeon and Irene who were dancing flawlessly in the middle of the ballroom.

“They’ll make the Kardashians cower in shame.”

“May I have a dance, Y/N?” Kun asked when the last song came to a stop.

“Lead the way, Kun,” how could you say no to a handsome face like him?

He took you hand in his and guided you to the dance floor. When you placed your hands on his shoulder, you could feel that he had gotten much more fitter these years, muscles flexing at every tiny movement. His eyes never left yours, other than the little flickers down to your lips when he thought you weren’t looking.

“I missed you Y/N.”

Next thing you knew, Kun was kissing you with those plump lips of his. The two of you had danced to the side of the room, Kun broke free from the kiss and led you to an empty hallway where you kissed him back immediately. Kun’s hands wandered freely over your figure, one of his hand going under your skirt, the slight squeeze on your inner thigh making you moan into the kiss. Just when his hand was reaching higher, someone pulled him off you.

“What?”

“Who the fuck are you and why are you touching her?!”

Kun scowled at the sight of Jaehyun, laughing at his angry face.

“When did you get yourself this boy toy Y/N? I would be a much better candidate for you tonight, Y/N.”

“Get away from us!” Jaehyun hollers, his anger getting out of hand.

“My apologies, I didn’t know she was taken.”

Kun walked away, leaving you with a livid Jaehyun.

“What were you thinking Y/N?! Letting a stranger touch you like that!”

“Stop shouting! He’s not a stranger, he’s someone I used to know and it’s none of your business to care!”

You stormed out of the estate, heading to the garden which led to the edge of the cliff, the sight of the beautiful sky calming your nerves immediately. You heard footsteps following you, no doubt it was Jaehyun, wanting to shout in your ear furthermore.

“Y/N!”

“I don’t want to see you, Jae. Go back inside,” you said as you let your legs take you further out into the open.

But Jaehyun and his damned long legs caught up with you in no time, he held onto one of your arms, tugging you back to look at him. When your eyes landed on his apologetic face, your heartstrings tugged lightly against the anger in your mind, but you remained your cold composure, eyes narrowing at him.

“What was that huh, Jaehyun? You think you really are my brother or boyfriend? That you can boss me around as you please? What makes you think you can stop me from touching other men when you sleep with every other girl after each match? Why can’t I do the same thing as you? Say something! You have nothing to offer? What are you? Five? Cat caught your tongue so easily? Fuck you, Jeong Jaehyun, you don’t even have the guts to admit your feelings.”

You tugged your arm out of his grip, walking as quickly as you can to the edge of the cliff, taking off your heels. When you started walking to the end slowly, you were pulled back by Jaehyun, the two of you falling onto the soft grass.

“I admit it! I admit it! I love you, okay? Just don’t fucking jump off the cliff. What were you thinking?”

You sat up from his embrace, the cold of the night grazing your exposed skin immediately, the tears in the corner of his eyes caught you by surprise.

“You mean it?” You questioned, shock that he’d be so honest about his feelings so suddenly.

“Of course I mean it. God, you gave me a heart attack.”

Jaehyun pulled you into his arms once again, his head on your shoulder, his nose rubbing the curve of your neck as his hands hold you tight, not wanting you to leave.

“You’re addicted to the adrenaline rush and inflicting pain, just thought this combination would make you own up to your own feelings.”

“You planned this?! What if I didn’t stop you?!”

“I had faith in you.”

“You’re crazy. What did I do in my previous life to end up with a mad woman like you? And what do you mean I’m addicted to inflicting pain? I mean to some degree for adrenaline rush, but pain?” Jaehyun questioned acting out shockingly, hoping that his denial may be able to mask this issue of his, or more accurately put by you, one out of two of his addictions.

“Just admit it, no one other than you fights with such madness, Mr J, I can see it in your eyes after every one of your victories,” you rounded on him, eyes narrowing at his, purposely using his stage name instead.

“Fine, I might be addicted to the pain I receive as well as inflict on others physically, and maybe the girls I slept with, but that’s more of an after match celebratory thing and I wasn’t considerate of their feelings, but nonetheless, I never wanted to harm you, yes, I might have wanted to manipulate your innocence at first, but that was before I started having feelings for you, I meant it when I said I love you,” Jaehyun explained, pouring his whole heart out to you, his eyes silently pleading for your understanding.

“I guess I love you too, coward, now let’s get back inside, it’s getting too cold for my liking,” you said as you wore your heels.

“What do you mean you guess? Hey, wait up!” Jaehyun stared at your retreating figure, trying to decipher your words before jogging up to pester you further about it,

Although Jaehyun and you hadn’t spent that much time together, but the bond since you had as kids never really faded, things just felt like they fall into place whenever you’re with him, the beauty of the little pieces of emotions clicking together like an intricate puzzle, just like how his aggressiveness balances your cool and calm exterior.

Jaehyun and you have surprisingly got along well, he was more honest with you about his feelings and trauma towards his past. You suggested him to find professional help, but he didn’t want anyone suspecting him of killing his father and said that talking to you already helps a great deal. The two of you would talk about anything and everything on a Thursday night, a time where both of you would sit down and genuinely talk to each other over a bottle of wine as your parents still aren’t back from their trip yet.

“You can say anything you want, especially if there’s things going through your head. I don’t want you to bottle up your feelings anymore okay?”

“Okay,” Jaehyun said as he caressed the curve of your side gently as you leaned your body against his, his warmth seeping through even with the layers of clothing.

It hasn’t been an easy journey, being with Jaehyun, but all couples go through ups and downs together regardless, you didn’t care if it was relatively harder, with his anger management and trust issues, the happiness he has brought into your life has etched inside your heart like an anchor and its ship.

Jaehyun wanted you to stop bidding so much money on him after the two of you got together, but you didn’t want to stop, since this was the reason the two of you had bloom into lovers. You are a rather sentimental person towards particular milestones. The person you were years ago would’ve been in disbelief towards your change of attitude towards a relationship commitment.

Every night, you’d go to bed wishing that these beautiful moments wouldn’t ever cease into nothingness.

Monster is rather crowded tonight, the underground fighting club is getting more and more popular among the young in Seoul, which makes pending background checks on the attendees before matches rather hard for the staff of Monster. The pending invites take around 2 months per person. But the amount of new faces and old faces alike never made Jaehyun nervous, in fact he could spot a few banners with his stage name, Mr J scrawled messily among the club goers.

Jaehyun used to fight with turmoil in his head as he uses fighting as a form of therapy for his past traumas, but ever since you helped him through things, it has cleared his head of anger and finds it easier to focus on his opponents’ movements. Ever since then, he started calling you his lucky charm, if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have made such a large improvement on his skills.

The fight began as usual with you watching him from a nearby balcony on the second floor. His opponent was a man who’s around his strength and height. Jaehyun although changed his way of thinking during a match, hasn’t changed one bit of his favourite tactic, manipulation.

Jaehyun took a painful hit on his stomach from his opponent. Although he told you he won’t take pain as a form of stress relief anymore, he still takes it like a champ in order to take down his opponent. Right when he feigns hurt, hugging his stomach slightly, his opponent chooses to use a wide swing as his grand finale, planning to finish Jaehyun off. But because of Jaehyun’s quick eye and experience, Jaehyun immediately lifts his right arm up to punch the joint of his opponent’s elbow forcefully bending it to an upwards angle that definitely hurts a lot, the crack of the bone being dislocated loud even amongst the crowds’ cheer. What Jaehyun didn’t expect was that his opponent took a swing at him with his other hand even through the midst of all the pain he experienced from his injury Jaehyun inflicted upon, bruising the corner of Jaehyun’s eye.

Jaehyun could feel anger boiling up his chest as he charges at his opponent like a bull, throwing hits all over his opponent’s head as well as stomach. At first his opponent tried to stand up, but gave up when he moved and felt the pain of his injuries digging into his flesh, hitting the floor of the ring five times to admit his defeat.

Jaehyun pulled himself up when he heard the bell rang, waking him up from his haze of anger. He looked up, hoping to see you smile because of his victory, yet you had disappeared.

There was a slight error with the cameras for the live stream of the match for fans online, so Lucas went to get you to fix it before the club loses any earnings just because of a slight malfunction, forcing you to leave Jaehyun’s fight. When you were done fixing them, the walk towards your spot of the ring was rather long, so the match ended before you reached there.

Jaehyun’s left eye started to swollen from the hit he received from his opponent, making everything look blurry if he concentrated his sight on the left. Just as he was about to leave the ring, a girl got up and kissed him. He immediately pushed her away when he realised it wasn’t you, although a similar shade of platinum blonde.

“Jaehyun! Did you miss me? That was such a great match. Wanna hang out at my place after this?” The perky blonde chick suggested in a rather annoying voice, immediately getting on Jaehyun’s nerves, like the throbbing in his eye isn’t giving him a bad headache already.

“Who are you? And why the fuck did you kiss me?” Jaehyun questioned, anger laced in his voice.

“I’m Brittany, we met here, and fucked at a night club downtown, remember? Why don’t we do just that now, you loved it the last time,” she praticcaly purred at him, ridiculous.

“What the fuck?! Fuck off!”

When Jaehyun pushed the girl away, he could see you standing outside the ring, anger and disbelief written across your face. That’s when you took off right in front of him, running towards the exit faster than you’ve ever before.

“Jaehyun, who is she?!”

Jaehyun ignored the girl, and pushed past the masses of people, running into the carpark where you usually parked your car, but when he got there, you were already gone, only a familiar whiff of your perfume in the stale air left.

You were speeding way past the speed limit, but you didn’t care. Nothing matters when your heart feels like its been chewed and spat out like it was dirt. You didn’t cry, even though you want to. You can only hear the voices in your head taunting you for your foolishness.

‘You knew he was a player and still you fell for him.’

‘You should’ve seen it coming, just because you pour your heart out for him, doesn’t mean he’ll cherish it.’

‘You were just like him a few years ago, this is probably karma.’

You pulled into Irene and Seulgi’s place, a miracle that you arrived without a single crash. You were so glad that your parents’ cruise lasted until next month. You leant back into your seat, the stress and fatigue you felt for the past moments finally crashing onto you. That’s when you received a call from Jungwoo, the money launderer you worked with.

“Yo, Y/N. I got a job for you.”

You have to leave for Switzerland, where Jungwoo was based at and where you arrange off shore accounts. You had to meet with a client in Incheon to discuss the details of the deal before boarding your flight hours prior.

The client wasn’t a hard case, so you had time to kill before you need to board for your flight. So you typed out the details to Jungwoo in an encrypted message to speed things up when you got there, right when you’re done, it was time to board the plane. On the flight, you mostly slept and watched movies to pass time, trying to distract yourself from the constant ache in your heart that was starting to numb into emptiness. You remember a conversation you had with Jaehyun about Switzerland once.

“I really like the snow capped mountains and green hills there. It’s beautiful all year round,” Jaehyun said as he watched the tv play out an episode of some show on Discovery.

“I can take you there if you want to, since I’m so familiar of the country from all the jobs,” you offered.

“I’d love that. Spending time with you in a cabin with a beautiful winter scene right outside our window sounds like heaven to me.”

You hate how your mind just instantly clicks everything back to Jaehyun, you scooted lower into your seat of the taxi to avoid the once beautiful scenery now scarred in your memory.

“What brings you here days earlier than you should? Family problems? Not likely. Boy problems?” Jungwoo egged on as he takes in your rather disheleved look.

You only sighed in response, you loved Jungwoo with all your life, but the events from these past days made your patience run on thin ice.

“Nothing, Woo.”

“Come on, tell me. You already talked to the client and I looked through the files, nothing needs to be amended, so we have plenty of time,” Jungwoo said as he pops in a chocolate truffle in his mouth, all ears for the latest take on your personal life.

He was patting the seat next to him on the sofa, you plopped down reluctantly, not expecting an ambush this soon from him as it was already 2 a.m. Switzerland time.

“Remember Jaehyun?”

“The hot step brother that had you chasing his tail and fixing his shit in the states?” Jungwoo asked with a knowing smile.

“Yes, that one.”

“What happened? Not another crime I hope, the only thing illegal he does now is fighting at Irene noona’s club. Unless?”

“No, it has nothing to do with the law.”

“Then?” Jungwoo has his attention trained now, he didn’t even bother to reach for another chocolate.

“We fell in love.”

“Thought so, but something happened recently, I suppose?”

“Yeah, I caught him kissing another girl after his match when I walked away to fix something, you know, like last time, when he would sleep with girls after every match.”

“Honey, Y/N. Not every fuckboy is ‘fixable’ no matter how much care and affection you shove up his ass. That’s just how men work,” he said with a click of his tongue, thinking back to the problems he had with men.

“You’re a man.”

“I’m gay, we think differently, and I’m out of my hoe phase. Doyoung is so adorable, you can meet him after we settle the accounts tomorrow.”

“Sure, Woo. I’m gonna head to bed, night,” you said before leaving to Jungwoo’s guest room, which is more of your third home now.

“Night.”

After you were done with the job and checked to make sure you received the fees, you decided to stay a few more days with Jungwoo, meeting his boyfriend as well as taking road trips to different parts of Switzerland all over again, trying to forget about the ache in your heart. It was a few days later at a resort where Jungwoo cornered you at the pub, since he didn’t want to say anything in front of Doyoung, and that man was rather clingy at times, which was a perfect match for Jungwoo

“You know you’re welcomed to spend time with me, but don’t you think you should talk to him? Instead of spending lonely nights drinking different cocktails in different hotels? Hell, you’re not even looking at those hot dudes that were checking you out, usually you’ll take one back for the night. What happened to the old Y/N?” Jungwoo questioned.

“I’m still me, Woo. I’m just not feeling it I guess,” sleeping around after a heartbreak was one of your known as one of your coping mechanisms to Jungwoo, but this heartbreak feels closer to home than the others, which was a given.

“You know, you didn’t even give a chance the poor boy to explain himself before you hopped on a plane and travelled oceans away. It might be a misunderstanding, you never know. Girls in that club can be really crazy, drugs and alcohol, that chick might have mistook your man for someone else. Go home, Y/N. Talk it out, and if he really did that on purpose, well I know a few assassins in Seoul.”

“I don’t want to kill him, Woo,” you deadpanned before downing another shot.

“Just kidding, but I’m serious, take the next flight home, since we’re this near to the nearest airport.”

“Fine, okay,” you sighed.

“Good, now last one, no more alcohol for you tonight,” Jungwoo holds his own shot high for yours to clink.

Once you landed in Incheon, it was around half past ten at night, the duty free shops were starting to shutter after you checked out. You booked a cab and left the airport. Before reaching home, you received a call from Lucas, which was odd, since you told them not to contact you unless it was an emergency.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, thank god you picked up. Where are you?”

“I just landed and I’m reaching home. Why are you calling me?” you asked, checking the time on your watch to predict what problems they’re facing.

“It’s Jaehyun, he’s drunk and he got himself into a match.”

“Why did you let him?!” you questioned in disbelief, a hand reaching up to ruffle your hair, a habit you had whenever you needed to think up of a solution quickly.

“Well, the people were protesting because we didn’t let him fight for a few days already, since he was drunk as well, but the people demanded for winnings from his matches, and I don’t think I can hold off the people’s demands. They won’t listen to me or Johnny, and Jaehyun is being an ass here, insisting on fighting no matter what,” Lucas said over the line, the voices of the audience in the background, it sounded very pack tonight.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you said before hanging up.

You cursed under your breath, telling the driver to speed up. If you needed to save his ass, you can’t do it with your real identity.

When you reached the fight club, you ran as fast as you could to the front, the people giving you space to move willingly. They weren’t sure who you were, but from the way you ordered Lucas and Johnny around, you must hold power over this club. As you neared the ring, you could hear a gruff voice shouting over the cheers of the audience.

“You’re gonna die, Mr. J! I waited for this day long enough, sweet, sweet revenge!”

Jaehyun was lying on the ground, movements shaky as he tried to scoot away from his opponent as he prepares to strike one last punch on Jaehyun’s head, without thinking twice, you jumped into the ring as fast as your legs could take you, you slid down and tripped Jaehyun’s opponent by sliding a kick as hard as you could on both his legs, making the large burly man fall onto his knees.

“How dare you stop me from my victory?!”

“This match is unfair! Mr J is drunk! Leave at once!” You ordered.

“I don’t care, no matter how much you pay me, I’m going to settle this once and for all! And a little girl like you isn’t going to stop me! I’ll fight you if I have to!” Jaehyun’s opponent threatened.

“Bring it on, motherfucker,” you said before putting on the gloves that Johnny had thrown on your side of the ring, mouthing the word sorry before getting back to the monitors.

Jaehyun’s opponent charged at you, like a bull that was tempted by the colour red, his eyes wild in frenzy after almost defeating Jaehyun. You jumped as high as you could, legs pointing at him like an arrow, striking him down like a target dummy, taking advantage of his crouched position when he charged at you. You started punching his face as you held him down with your legs, constricting his hands, but unfortunately for you, the amount of muscles he had on his abdomen enabled him to sit up and slam you onto the ground.

You hissed in pain as you felt the pressure of the way he threw you down from that height. You quickly rolled over when he wanted to land a punch on you, the only upside about your opponent being large was that he was slow as well. So you jumped onto his back, your thighs choking him as you landed punch after punch on his head. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it up if you didn’t finish him once and for all, so you placed all your weight onto him as well as tipping your figure downwards, forcing him to fall back forwards, you used all your strength by rising up your feet slightly before stomping onto his stomach, making him lose his balance, the fall made the pain in his stomach increase tenfold as you had him sandwiched underneath the force from your feet and the hard floor. The sound of something cracking underneath your feet loud as the audience had silence themselves to take in the extraordinary fight in front of them, it must’ve been his ribs.

The man underneath you coughed out blood along with the words of surrender and medic. Once the coast was clear, you rushed down the ring where Jaehyun was, he was unconcious.

“What’s wrong with him?” you asked the medic attending to him.

“We think he had too many punches on his head, it’s best you send him to the hospital immediately Ms Y/N.”

“Johnny! Take him to my car!”

“Right away.”

You checked your limbs and your eye sight, your legs were a bit shaky, and you were littered with bruises, but you didn’t care as you ran to where your car was parked a few blocks down, Jaehyun in Johnny’s arms. Johnny placed Jaehyun in the backseat once you opened the car doors.

“I’ll take it from here, take care of the situation at the club, don’t let things get out of hand.”

“Okay, you’re sure you can drive?” Johnny asked one last time, he knows you’ve been in worse situations, but he didn’t want to lose his boss.

“Yeah,” you said before closing your door, your limbs going into autopilot to get the car started.

You sped as fast as you could, shifting gears every once in a while to make it to the hospital in record speed. You didn’t stop until you reached the hospital’s emergency drop off.

“Help! He’s heavily injured, someone tried to rape me and he fought the guy, but the guy hurt his head a few times before he gave up,” you said in a frantic tone, making the lie seem even more believable.

The nurse you were talking to quickly flagged down a team of medic, putting Jaehyun onto a stretcher and wheeling him into the hospital.

“Are you fine, miss? You look injured as well,” the nurse inquired when she took in some of your visible injuries.

“I’m fine, I need to park my car then I’ll get checked myself.”

“Very well.”

You quickly parked your car and retrieved your leather jacket from the trunk, not wanting to draw attention on yourself because of the bruises. You dashed to the reception desk, asking for Jaehyun’s whereabouts.

“He’s currently in Room 512 Level 3 receiving surgery, he’ll be out in 2 hours.”

“Thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“There you are! I’ll be tending to your wounds.”

Just your luck, the nurse from before cornered you once you turned back. Directing you to one of the emergency area.

“There are bruises all over your arms as well as behind your head, and these are the only ones I can see,” she said as she pressed gently onto the slight swell behind your head.

“I’m fine, miss, thank you so much,” you said as you sat up from the bed.

“Wait, at least let me check your eye sight. You might have damaged your brain from the injuries behind your head.”

You reluctantly sat back down, frustrated that you couldn’t be with Jaehyun. Once she was done, you rushed to the surgery room just as Jaehyun was being wheeled out.

“How is his condition, doctor?”

“He only had a gnash behind his head, fortunately missing his neck. He was unconscious mostly because of the hits he received on his head and the alcohol in his system. He should wake up tomorrow morning after the anaesthesia passes.”

“Thank you so much, doctor,” you said before bowing to him.

“You’re welcome.”

You followed the nurses who wheeled him in, tucking him in the blankets, since he was always sensitive of the cold.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow. I promise,” you said as you squeezed his hand before leaving his room.

When you got back to Irene’s condo, a collective gasp rang out as you took off your leather jacket.

“When Johnny said it was bad, he wasn’t lying,” Seulgi said as she poured a glass of water for you.

“The guy I took down was second to Jaehyun in the club, I think I did okay. I always got bruises from our jobs anyways,” you said before crashing onto the sofa, the familiar ache ringing out in your senses.

“Maybe you got a bit rusty,” Seulgi said as she passed you the glass.

“No I didn’t.”

Right after you finished your sentence, Seulgi threw a knife at you. You avoided the knife by moving your head at a speed that you were very much used to after the many training sessions as well as missions.

“Not bad.”

“Seulgi! What did I say about impaling knives on our walls?!” Irene complained, eyes widening at your wounds, but let out a sigh of relief when she could smell the medicine on your skin, but continued eyeing your wounds with worried eyes.

“I was just testing her, I’ll fix it tomorrow, promise,” she replied with a cheeky smile, hoping that she wouldn’t get an earful from Irene by looking cute.

“Y/N ah, there’s something Johnny sent me after you left for Switzerland.”

Irene handed you her laptop, a CCTV footage of the club showing up. It was taken from the camera that was right on top of the ring that had 360 degrees angle, just in case anyone played unfairly.

The video showed the night of the match right where you walked out from, you could see yourself run out of the scene. Followed by Jaehyun pushing the girl off him and seemingly shouting at her before rushing out to look for you.

“I think he wasn’t cheating on you, Y/N ah, he didn’t seem too happy about the girl,” Irene suggested.

“I might have jumped to conclusions too soon,” you said solemnly, realising that you have mistaken Jaehyun because of his past.

You had unconciously began twirling at the necklace on your neck, something you did whenever you held much uncertainty, which Irene noticed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, I would’ve freaked out if I were in your shoes as well,” Irene consoled.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head to bed, night,” more like lying on bed thinking about how you’re indirectly the cause of what happened tonight.

“Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

Jaehyun was wincing when he opened his eyes, the white lights and the white ceiling blinding him temporarily. Where is he? When he tried sitting up, he could feel how sore his whole body was, what did he do after he got out of the pub? That’s when he felt it, your familiar touch and soothing voice.

“Hey... Take it easy.”

“Y/N? Y/N? You’re back,” he sat up abruptly to see if he was dreaming, but the pain that came with the rushed action was too painful to be just a gimmick in his head.

“I’m back.”

You were wearing your usual flowy dress again, delicate hands cutting up his favourite fruit, a peach. You had on the lilac scrunchie he had given you a few weeks after you guys were a couple, as well as the Bulgari ring he had gotten you after a month. You poured him a cup of water before feeding him little peach cubes, the necklace dangling on top of him, a familiar sight that comforts him.

“I’m sorry for taking off like that, I thought I wasn’t enough for you anymore and I just assumed the worst,” you said truthfully, knowing that he must’ve felt like shit when you were gone.

“I don’t blame you, I know my reputation isn’t the best, and only time will prove how much you mean to me, and I’m fine with that, I’m willing to wait for your trust, Y/N,” Jaehyun explained in a sincere tone, his way of forgiving you.

Jaehyun took your hand in his, his thumb tracing lines on your palm. His other hand cups your cheek, holding up your face to see you clearly for the first time in a while, that’s when he saw the slight bruise on your jaw.

“Y/N, what happened?” Jaehyun asked as he touched the bruise, wincing under the sudden pressure on your wound.

“You don’t remember what happened last night?”

“No. Did I hit you?!” Jaehyun said as his eyes were frantically scanning your whole body, only to find more bruises around your wrists, if he had done this, he’d hate himself for eternity.

“You joined a match against King Laz, the guy who hates your guts. I just landed from Switzerland last night, then I received a call saying you were drunk but you were in a fight, so I rushed there only to find you lying on the ground. He was going to finish you off, so the only logical thing I could think off was to fight for you, since he didn’t want to leave without defeating someone,” you explained recounting last night’s events.

“You fought against him?! Are you mad?!” Jaehyun questions, eyes going over all your injuries, worried about how painful they look.

“Oh come on, Jae. I’m a trained fighter, that fight was nothing,” you said dismissively.

“He’s a strong opponent, Y/N. No wonder you got so many bruises,” Jaehyun said as he hangs his head down, upset that you had to go through so much to save his sorry ass.

“It’s nothing, Jaehyun. It was just like every other mission I went through, nothing to be alarmed of. And these bruises are nothing, I get bruised easily. Don’t be so hung up over it, it’s already over, I kicked his butt and is now lying in bed with several broken ribs, so be quiet and eat your peach.”

“Several? Impressive. Thanks for the peach, baby, but I would much rather eat yours,” Jaehyun suggested, tongue in cheek with a playful smile gracing his lips.

“Sometimes I don’t know what I see in you,” you said as you popped another peach cube in his mouth.

“Shh... I know you love me, now give me a kiss for quick recovery,” Jaehyun said before his hand reaches for you.

“You’re such a dork, Jeong Jaehyun,” but you kissed him nonetheless, no matter if his lips were bruised or cut, you’ll always be there for him, for you are his cure to the monsters in his head, the poison and its cure.

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