#intrusive thoughts love running w this shit.

[arcadequeerz]

[fill-me-with-dirt]

Saw some old postal promotion on tiktok and literally started fucking stimming I love that game so much. Need to play it soon

[coryosbaby]

Ok kill me if I’m doing this wrong but like can I make a request for like an Ethan story where like Ethan and the fem reader get close and in the middle of them doing the deed he confesses that he’s ghost face and it turns the reader on even more nd shiii if that’s ok

BRO YES THATS PERFECT

Warning: mentions of violence/killing/gore, slight dubcon 🧐, jealousy, riding, choking (sort of), dom! Ethan, sub! Reader, rough sex, slight sir kink

Ethan with his hand around your throat, his other hand on your hip as you ride him <3 your wetness practically drips down his cock and onto the sheets.

“Mm, yeah, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Such a little slut.” He praises. His cock is hot inside you, and if you know anything you know that when he loses his mind in pleasure his pretty mouth starts running.

“Love filling you up, sweet girl. You’re all mine, aren’t you?” His hands go down to both your hips and he thrusts into you from below. You cry out, hands shaky around his neck, and he moans at the feeling of you clenching around him. You gasp in shock when his hand comes across your face.

“Answer me!”

“Yes! Yes, sir, oh-”

He slaps your ass roughly and then grips it firmly in his palms to help you ride him harder.

“Oh fuck yeah, bitch. You’re mine. Not anyone else’s right? Shit, no wonder I got rid of that sick fuck that used to date you.”

You’re confused then, looking down at him with your eyebrows furrowed as your bouncing slowly stops.

“W-What?”

Although you’d expect the boy’s expression to be one that’s upset, it isn’t. In fact, he’s grinning wildly at you.

“Your ex? That one that’s been trying to talk to you for the past month?”

And then it hits you.

The killings that were happening recently? The sneaking away at random moments when he thought you didn’t notice?

Your boyfriend is ghostface. That’s the conclusion you come to. And he has killed your ex.

“Y-You’re-”

He growls, shoving his fingers into your mouth and making you gag.

“Yeah, baby. And don’t even try to run from me. Because I promise it won’t end well for you.” He begins to fuck you from below with an intense aggression; perhaps the thought of you being possibly scared of him now turns him on. Or maybe it’s the thought of being revealed, of being noticed. You don’t know, really.

And honestly, you don’t fucking care.

Your wetness gushes down Ethan’s cock. You’re so confused, but so close to your orgasm. His fingers rub around on your teeth as you bite down on them from the stimulation of his harsh fucking.

And then the bad thoughts start up. They’re intrusive (or at least, that’s what you try to convince yourself). Images of Ethan in the ghostface costume, images of him with the knife. Him covered in blood, his hands holding you down and fucking you in a pool of the red liquid. His hand leaves your mouth and reaches down to rub your swollen clit.

And as messed up as it is, you cream all over his cock.

[iteh3xael]

Witchcraft Ask Game

What drew you to witchcraft?

Old bestie in HS was into it (we bonded over Charmed) and then had a REALLY weird series of run ins once I graduated college and did some psychedelics. Remembered I used to lucid dream and was fascinated by the Christian Book of Revelation as a CHILD and that kind of all merging into the queer pagan I find myself today.

2. Do you follow a specific witchcraft tradition, or are you eclectic?

I have a whole theory on DND and how witchcraft plays into that and how we basically are imbued with the power of our namesake and then the rest of kind of based on whatever you're exposed to and I'm not saying crystals will straight up give you super powers but like, runes have meaning and maybe don't fuck the stalachtite

3. Do you believe in the Threefold Law or karma in witchcraft?

There's something to be said about consequences to actions and the 2nd Law of Newton (equal and opposite) and 1st Law of Thermo (energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred) that definitely applies. FMA also taught me about fucking with life and death magic and you gotta be REALLY careful with what you ask for because the universe is VERY finicky.

4/5. What advice would you give to someone who feels called to witchcraft but is unsure where to begin?

Gonna self plug a post here about things I wish I knew when I started (everyone actually practices to a degree, it's just become really archaic to exist in a present fashion while also embracing the wonderment of things like dreams.

6. Have you ever had a dream or vision that felt prophetic?

Used to! Don't as much but I think it's a skill. Some people naturally have premonitions through dreams and mine are more like vivid intrusive thoughts that play through my head and I have to figure out which is actually useful.

7. What do you think of Aleister Crowley?

Ngl had to Google who that was because I don't really follow many contemporary people and knew he was a "magician" of sorts but I don't take any stock in orgs like the Free Masons or even Satanism even if I think there's probably ~something~ there. He was clearly smart enough to make it work but idk how much is just really smart social engineering (he was a spy, afterall) and a smattering of esoteric networking that led to him being fairly successful at whatever his craft was

8. Do you think witches can create their own deities?

So... I think witches occupy a kind of weird realm/dimension (on my scale it's on like, the 6th degree akin to the "inverted" dimension where we would think of them being akin to IRL angels) and so our calling is rooted in whatever incarnation pulls from original sources. Our names have power and "create" the source of inspiration (deities, gods, spirits, w/e) hence why we "choose" them when "coming out" as a way of embracing our sense of servitude to a higher being outside of our general sense of self.

9. How do you feel about people worshiping deities from pop culture?

Sure, why not lol.

10. What’s your opinion on the idea that "all magic comes with a cost"?

Ohhh yes yes yes. Hence why I affirm that people need to be serious about their approach to science as magic is just when science and art come together perfectly (think of siren's and their songs, beauty inspiring wars, love SAVING people).

11. What’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you during a spell?

For years, I had never done a spell with another person before and kind of just fucked around and using objects that I figured would have SOME use, I just didn't know what for.

For instance: there was this ridiculous rubber ducky I got from some rando woman at a hotel from a work thing I was at in bumfuck Pennsylvania where she basically FORCED it upon me after I literally said no and tried to give it back but they were SO insistent despite being a complete stranger. I HATE having useless shit and usually just throw it away immediately but I didn't want to be rude so I threw it into my bag and kind of forgot about it.

Anyway, fast forward to me visiting my old bestie (mentioned prior) talking about The Craft while I'm unpacking my bag and how I never could seem to figure out spells while at the SAME time, being like "Oh hey! Do you want this rubber ducky?"

They flipped their shit because, there is a VERY particular spell about rubber duckies and not just finding one, a portion of the spell reads:

"...presented by hand, in a way that's select

a peculiar find, to earn the craft's respect"

and since then we did a spell about keys that still kind of haunts me to this day so uh... be careful y'all lol

12. If you could cast one spell right now, what would it be and why?

A relationship healing spell. Any help would be greatly appreciated. <8

13. What’s your belief on the afterlife, and how does it affect your spiritual practices?

I definitely think there's another realm out there and I try to just be present with what comes my way since this reality is already full of surprises. I really don't do any major spirit work because I kind of have a deep seated respect where the sense of awe is a bit terrifying so I just kinda see where it takes me and ask mindful questions.

14. What’s your opinion on the importance of connecting with the land in witchcraft?

Plz touch more grass lol If the elements of the Earth (AT LEAST FOUR of them aren't present when approaching a situation, you might need to recenter.

15. How do you feel about using magic to influence others?

Whether we like it or not, magic will ALWAYS be used to influence (literally just think of money or words as a concept). We have a duty to be responsible wielders for we are practitioners in a Dark Art that has a reputation for being misconstrued as evil. Embrace all the shades and don't be shy from the glimmers from the light :3

16. What’s your opinion on hexing or cursing?

I would advise against it though my namesake literally deals with them so uh, just be wise.

17. Do you believe in spiritual psychosis?

I want to say yet but honestly unsure of the full scope of the question so... TBD?

[autistic-fandom-trash]

rating tma entities based on how likely i would be to willingly become an avatar of them

The Buried: 1/10 i hate the idea of being trapped/suffocated and i also hate capitalism. 1 point for excellent taste in ambient music tho

The Corruption: 3/10 it would be absolute hell for my sensory issues and i want it far away from me at all times. 3 points for emotional appeal... like damn maybe i do want to be entirely consumed by what needs my protection and therefore will always have it

The Dark: 6/10 its kinda basic but being able to hide in the shadows and representing the fear of the unknown is an absolute vibe

The Desolation: 10/10 chaotic lesbians lets go!! also i am forever indebted to agnes montigue bc she killed the web avatar who brought up my school trauma

The End: 4/10 im pretty existential sometimes but like not in a depressing way. ive been suicidal in the past (not anymore dw) and i feel like im pretty comfortable w/ the idea of death all things considered. there is also a person from my past i have dreamed about killing but we dont have time to unpack all of that

The Eye: 5/10 i love learning new things and im not scared of being judged. however i dont rly like the idea of anyone knowing abt my intrusive thoughts bc its just uncomfortable

The Flesh: 3/10 its all pretty yikes but ig shapeshifting could be fun

The Hunt: 4/10 tbh im kinda torn on this one. on one hand, it has to do with law enforcement (ew). on the other hand, the wilderness creature aspect is an absolute vibe. maybe id consider it if it let me be a feral catgirl instead of a werewolf

The Lonely: 3/10 its depressing as shitfuck and also a lying bitch. 3 points for the share amount of writing i would get done. just nonstop fic updates

The Slaughter: 7/10 to quote the jurgen leitner rant im just mad bc i am angy

The Spiral: 3/10 i hate it when ppl dont take me seriously abt my mental health issues but itd be kinda fun to mess w/ ppl ig

The Stranger: 8/10 again!! the unknown!! and being unapologetically weird!! an absolute vibe!!

The Vast: 9/10 its just... beautiful. everywhere you look. the bright blue of the sky silver clouds gray storms flashing lightning starry nights infinite shining galaxies the wind in your hair the thrill of a roller-coaster. humans may be small and unimportant in the universe but the universe is lovely and we get to experience it. there is so much to love we will never run out do you get it

The Web: 0/10 it can eat shit and die!! i can handle spiders but keep mind control the FUCK away from me

The Extinction: 3/10 i like computers and i dont rly fear change but the climate crisis is... oof

[maybeigotwithsophie]

The wiz thoughts up to mean old lion 1978

Word connotantes - run, up, down, run, hide, ease, don’t ease, long, road, where, how, which way

Dialectics

All the characters have my new philosophy intro songs

Dorothy is so expressive and dramatic but she also has some deep confidence barriers

The friends get annoying after a whole esp Jackson but it’s the most real portrayal of my friendships I’ve seen thus far

Dorothy doesn’t have to posture.

these dialogues HIT HIT HIT

Charlie smalls was a genius no doubt

Why does no one analyze this?

We all know these characters and the awe and amazement ref lyric is the Anne Shirley effect

The lion is annoying the shit of me because I know SO MANYppl like him my goods even scarecrow is annoyed af

Mills didn’t need to act dumb about Michael like I didn’t want to hear that

OMG TIN MAN LMFAOOOOO

Everyone presents and laughs so hard in this

Ease on down the road put a smile on my face.

You can’t win deserves its own award category. For most meaningful impact communicated through a song scene. Fight me.

The lion omg stfuuuyuy

The courthouse

Does anyone get the numbers symbolism?

It went over mine regretfully

Mills is not singing too well in her falsetto, emotional familiarity doesn’t make it reasonable.

The cab dances where each ease on down the road gets more confident mostly is just THE BOMB

the colorsss f the can b the yellow is so iconic and recognizable

The snow tornado let me inhibitions down

Guys I have to be Dorothy

Toto runs like a tiny Pomeranian

Bubbieeee

Oh no nut the metro

The lions announcer voice

FLEet

took me outtttt LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I swear

IFELAS

I CANT with this the black references guys I get all of them all

Nothing better than getting a cultural reference it’s like a fun little ping pong game full of fuzzy rewards

THE SCAEY TELETUBBIES KILL MEGHYSHELP

I don’t wanna be afraid AHHHHH IM SK SCAEED OMGFO S S THIS JA SCARIER THAN GETTING HARASSED PK THW RESIME STAIRL A AHAHAHAI FELT VISCER TWEELE

This is so actually scary help oh my god

This is so scary

Hell I’m terrified

I’m panicking

What what what

No e lion is oomna doej

What the hell i feel this

Def Stephanie’s better scenes realism wise

So the lion has courage and the crows weren’t and we’re real but that’s not the point because her session with scarecrow demonstrated how I talk to people who are struggling and how I get on with the world like th e light soundtrack encapsulates that I just wish the lyrics and it would mesh better

It’s light and flighty still even

But I still love it more than god

Toto isn’t with me I’m sad :(

Stephanie is so quirky

WHY ARE THE WALLS MOVING I STG

Acid what was wrong with Charlie smalls

Hello if you’re out there qu’ils board guy

I this mind trip is so long

Ok this is psychological horror I once panicked over being In a mirror maze funhouse when I was young because my intrusive thoughts had never seemed so pertinent fucking terrifying I felt like the ear th w was gonna fall under me and every light and mirror I touched wasn’t tangible or real

Oh poppies

[iheartmalewives]

hehhehhashehhshsa its me. again. im back with another idea and uh...GN!mc or M!mc thinking if they should go back into a relationship with malleus because their parents forced them to break up like "malleus should be with a noble" blah blah shit and like on a stroll through the garden they suddenly say "am i crazy? maybe, we could happen...will you still be with me even if the magic is all gone?" based on the song : If only - Dove cameron ILY ZEN POOKIE/p 🌈🌈

XAV IS BACK AGAIN WITH ANOTHER GOOD PLOT!!! I changed it up abit, instead of dating we'll do marriage bc why not. I WAS ABLE TO MAKE THIS SHORT THANK GOD

"If only.." ROYAL AU

Malleus x GN!reader Angst w/ Happy ending!

"We have to break up, Malleus." Malleus turned to you with shock in his eyes, his heart stopped working for a second as he tried to register the words that came out from your mouth.

"Break up? What-why?!" He asked, his hand desperately holding unto yours, not wanting to let you go, "Your parents want you to marry a noble and not.."

He listened to your words whilst thinking about what he should do to save this relationship from its downfall, "and not someone like me." You continued.

His heart shattered into pieces as he heard those words coming out from you, "Someone like you?.." he mumbled out, pulling you towards him softly.

"I dont care about your status, Y/n. I will consider you as the love of my life and thats final. I promise I'll talk to my parents about this, I need too.."

He paused as he felt your hand touch his chest, his breathing becoming shaky as he sees your glossy eyes. "I need you in my life, Y/n." He finally finished, watching you press your body against his, sniffling and sobbing.

"I need you too, Malleus. B-but its better off if we break things and go our separate ways." You softly whispered against his chest, nuzzling closer and closer.

"I love you, Malleus. Dont forget that."

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

It had been months since that incident happened, months since you last talked. It was better off this way, a peasant and a noble marrying is too good to be true.

You knew that and you didnt regret what you did. It was better for both parties but you had to admit, it hurt. Alot.

-

-

You were now walking amongst the paths of a beautiful garden, watching and observing all sorts of flowers and plants as a way to clear your head off.

This very garden was therapeutic for you and you were glad it was near where you live.

But even if you came here in this beautiful garden to clear your head, you cant help but wonder what it would be like if you were born a noble.

You were probably going crazy at this point for thinking such thing, but you cant help but let those thoughts run in your head.

"Am I crazy? Maybe, we could happen... Would you still be with me if the magic is all gone..?" You talked to yourself for some time, "Just what would happen if we're still together, Malleus.. if we got the chance to marry and-"

"We would be happy, Y/n."

You jumped at the sudden intrusion, the familiar voice making you tremble instantly. You knew it was him, you knew it was the lover you were forced to break up with due to how different you were.

"Malleus, what are you doing here?" You sternly said, trying not to waver your voice as you felt a sting in your throat.

"I came to check up on how my love is doing." He smiled, ever so softly, making you clench your fist as you remembered that night.

"But, we're not together anymore.." You muttered out, whilst trying not to cry, voice already betraying you as it started to waver, "Who said we arent? I promised Id talk to my parents, yes?"

He walked closer and closer towards you, his hands gracefully touching yours, intertwining it and kissing it. "It took a while of convincing but.." he paused for a moment before continuing, "They agreed. Im their son after all, the heir of our Castle."

Hearing those words made you sob, almost instantly, arms swinging around his neck as you pulled him into a tight hug.

I guess marrying a noble as a peasant is too good to be true.. but who said it wasnt possible?

Ikaw talaga Xav, ang talino mo talaga sa plots

ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THAT

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,��� Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[anjsvk]

Void

pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung genre: Established relationship, Angst word count: 2.5k words

summary: "Have you ever thought of anyone other than yourself?”

a/n: this is a short fic inspired by Happier Than Ever (ASTN cover) warnings: brief mention of intrusive thoughts / attempt, panic attack, gaslighting, and hint of toxic relationship

“‘Cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city.”

‘Please, please. One reply, so that I know you’re safe.’

Jungkook doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at his phone. All he knows is it’s been weeks since Taehyung left without a trace. It’s his fault why he left. He knows it is. He was an asshole. A manipulative, egocentric asshole who didn’t realize his mistakes until it was too late. Now, the love of his life is nowhere to be found.

He’s been cooped up in his and Taehyung’s room ever since Taehyung disappeared. He can hear his hyungs’ footsteps outside of the room, talking amongst themselves, begging him to come out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He thought he deserved to be at least punished for the shitty things he did.

“Kook? Hey, come on. You wouldn’t find Taehyung this way,” Jin says while leaning against the bedroom door, hoping that Jungkook would listen for once.

Jungkook dryly chuckles, “You can’t find someone who doesn’t want to be found, hyung.”

Jin sighs. He looks at the others behind him and shakes his head. They all drag themselves to the living room, looking dejected.

“Has anyone heard from him yet?” Namjoon asks. The others shake their heads.

“I tried calling and texting, but he doesn’t answer. I don’t even know if he reads them,” Jimin whispers, already on the verge of tears.

“Has anyone tried asking his pa—”

Hoseok was cut off by the sound of a door opening and saw Jungkook standing outside of the room with bags under his eyes, looking like absolute shit.

“Hyungs,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes glistening from unshed tears, “I know one of you knows where he is, please,” he begs.

“Jin hyung? Hobi hyung? Jiminie?” He looks at them one by one, pleading with his eyes. He slid down to the floor when none of them answered.

Jungkook lets out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault he left. Now, he’s not talking to you guys either.”

Yoongi heaves a deep sigh, having enough of seeing Jungkook like that.

“You never heard it from me, all right?”

Everyone snapped their heads toward Yoongi, looking at him in disbelief.

“You… You knew all this time?” Jungkook says, feeling betrayed.

“Yoongi… Why?” Jin asks.

Jungkook grabs Yoongi by the collar and shouts, “You knew all this time, and yet, you let me suffer like this?”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, “Have you ever thought of anyone other than yourself?” He calmly says.

“W-What?” Jungkook lets go of Yoongi and backs away.

“Are you really this selfish?” Yoongi angrily says.

“I’m not—”

“Have you ever thought that maybe this is what he needs? To be away from you?” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with Jungkook’s behavior, “You think he left just to hurt you? To make you suffer? You think he did this out of revenge?”

“No, but I—”

“Taehyung left because you hurt him. He left because you made him suffer. You invalidated his feelings. You tried to manipulate every fucking situation that doesn’t go your way. He got tired of putting up with all the hurtful shit you do and say to him. He got tired of you telling him how to feel. He got tired of waiting for you to come home in the middle of the night, only to be drunk out of your ass and ignore him in every possible way. He got tired of always putting you first. You made him feel worthless that he almost tried killing himself!” Yoongi exclaims.

“That still didn’t give you the right to keep this to yourself! You have no right to meddle in our relationship!” Jungkook shouts.

“Guys, stop, please,” Namjoon tries to calm them both down.

Yoongi walks closer to Jungkook, glaring at him, “Don’t tell me shit like that. You’re not the one who sees him cry every single night. You’re not the one he calls for help whenever he’s on the verge of giving up. Where were you when he had his panic attacks? Nowhere. Because most of the time, it’s because of you,” he points at Jungkook’s chest. 

“Have you even said sorry at least? Just once, and meant it. Have you? Have you ever asked him how he felt? Have you ever looked at him, like really look at him? Because one simple look will show that he’s not fucking fine. You’re too invested in yourself that you can’t even notice that.”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi with wide eyes, tears slowly streaming down his face, “I…”

“Yoongi, please,” Jin whispers, “this won’t fix anything. Fighting him won’t fix anything.”

“I’m not…” Yoongi sighs, “I’m not fighting him. I’m telling him everything he needs to know, so he can realize how fucked up this whole situation is.”

“I… I know, okay?” Jungkook’s voice cracks, “I know I fucked up. I know that now. Please, hyung. Tell me where he is so I can make this right,” he cries.

“I made a promise, Jungkook. I don’t want him to suffer anymore.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook got down on both knees, pleading with Yoongi, “I just want to talk to him. I want him to know that I regret everything, that I realize my mistakes now and I’m ready to own up to them. I just… want to know if he’s safe.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, “He’s staying at my friend’s house in Daegu.”

Jungkook has never stood up that fast in his entire life. He hugs Yoongi and grabs his keys, “Thank you, hyung. Thank you.”

He was about to leave when he heard Yoongi speak, “Hey. I’ll text you the address. Fix this, all right?”

Jungkook nods and gives them a small smile before he dashed to his car.

‘I’m coming, baby. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’ He kept apologizing in his head, trying to think of everything he should say to Taehyung to make him forgive Jungkook. It was a long shot but he’s ready to do everything in his power to make this right. He can’t lose him like this. He won’t let it happen.

Hours later, Jungkook finds himself in front of a small house in the middle of nowhere. There’s rice fields everywhere and about two or three houses in sight. He’s nervous. Of course, he is. He doesn’t know how Taehyung will react once he sees him. He feels like his heart’s going to beat out of his chest from all the anxiety he’s feeling.

‘Okay, let’s do this.’

He knocks on the door twice. Silence. 

He knocks again.

“Tae?” Jungkook calls out, “baby, I’m here. Please, open up.”

He tries to peek in through the windows, but it seems like no one was home. He’ll just have to wait until—

“How did you find me?”

Jungkook spins around and sees Taehyung standing still, carrying some groceries. He almost cried then and there while observing Taehyung’s appearance. He looks tired. He has bags under his eyes, he looks pale, and he lost a lot of weight. The eyes that once looked at him with so much love and adoration before have now become dull and full of hatred.

‘Have I really been this clueless?’ Jungkook thought.

“Tae.”

“How did you find me, Jungkook?” Taehyung asks, his face void of any emotions.

“It doesn’t matter but hear me out. I just wanna say I’m—”

This is the part where he apologizes. 

One empty word from him, and Taehyung’s world starts spinning around him again.

“You’re what? Sorry? Again? For the nth time?” There was little to no care in Taehyung's voice as the words came out. The usual warmth that wrapped around his words was long gone now – Taehyung is far long gone and part of Jungkook knows this.

Jungkook had already apologized for a lot of things, of course, without sincerity. It would usually be over mundane things like forgetting to get the trash out, washing the dishes, and picking up after himself. Not once did he ever apologize for all the hurt he had caused Taehyung; for all the times he missed the monumental parts in Taehyung’s life, whether it may be his college graduation or his promotion at work, not even when Taehyung found out his estranged father he was once close with died due to the pandemic.

Jungkook wasn’t there with him, and he never apologized for it. Instead, he blamed Taehyung for being so mentally absent and lacking the usual care from him. Out of all the problems Taehyung had to weigh on his own, Jungkook never helped him to lift it off. It also circles back to him. It always has to be about him.

“If this is another apology, I don’t wanna hear it,” Taehyung stands stoically, tiredness very evident in the bags under his eyes. 

Jungkook freezes in his spot, unable to think of anything coherent to say. He wants to open his mouth, but he knows no words would come out. An unsettling feeling sat in the pits of his stomach, forming a black hole of emptiness, knowing that Taehyung is exhausted from all the empty apologies he had said.  

He can only think of one thing to say.

“I love you, Tae,” the words stuck on Jungkook’s throat, choking him. 

“If you ran away to spite me then—”

The next part? He blames Taehyung after the heartfelt apology.

“Spite you?” Taehyung bitterly chuckles. 

Poking his tongue in his cheek, he narrows his gaze on Jungkook, “If you really meant all the things you were sorry for, then you should’ve worked on it proactively instead of putting all the blame on me.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “I told you I’m trying. I am fucking trying.”

“But I never see you try, Jungkook.” 

This doesn’t seem to be the answer Jungkook was hoping to hear with the way his frown deepens.

“I waited for change and I kept forgiving you. All I’ve ever done for the rest of our relationship was wait and make up excuses on your behalf until I…”

“You what?” 

Taehyung remains silent briefly, making Jungkook even more anxious.

“Until you what, Tae?”

“...until one day, I felt nothing. Nothing for you, nothing for us.” 

Normally, Taehyung would be shedding tears by now, but this time he doesn’t. 

“You tell me you love me and how I’m the luckiest person in the world to have you, but why do I feel like it isn’t like that?” Jungkook thought he saw a flash of hurt in Taehyung’s eyes for a brief moment, but Taehyung held his ground.

“You could’ve told me that’s how you felt all along instead of running away from me,” Jungkook’s jaw clenches.

Followed by the part of more blaming until one of them finally caves in.

“You always had an excuse for everything, Jungkook. Whenever I feel bad, it doesn’t matter who owns up for the mistake because it will always be me who’s at fault. Not you,” Jungkook’s gaze flickers as Taehyung’s words draw a pang in his chest.

“I always begged for you. I always sought your validation, for your forgiveness,  hoping that maybe someday – just maybe – you’d see me as an equal. As your actual partner. But no,” Taehyung’s lips form a small, sad smile as he looks down.

“I realized I’d be wasting the rest of my life waiting for you to love me the way I love you; you’ll never do that and that’s okay. Really.” 

‘We can’t end like this.’

Jungkook could lie his way out and win Taehyung back. One excuse on top of another lie, and not once did he admit his narcissism and selfishness. Now that Taehyung is suddenly reminded of everything, he asks himself: Was it so hard for him to break things off with Jungkook to save his sanity? Or was it hard for him because he had grown codependent with him?

He could stay for five more minutes listening to another sob story Jungkook pulls out of his ass, but this time he’ll never believe it. 

Sighing deeply, Jungkook’s doe eyes start to well up with tears he never knew were there, “Is there any way I could fix this? I promise I’ll be better next time.”

Taehyung raises his brow, his eyes boring into Jungkook, “You had all these years to fix every crack in our relationship but you never did. What makes it different this time?”

‘I don’t even fucking know.’ 

Taehyung could see how Jungkook is inevitably failing to think of another affectionate alibi to win him back.

Giving it one last shot, Jungkook lifts his head and looks at Taehyung with sincerity. He comes closer and hugs him but Taehyung never extends his arms nor does he reciprocate the contact. 

“We could try to rekindle our relationship, you know, like going out on dates like we used to and things like that,” Jungkook suggests, convincing Taehyung as hard as he can.

It’s funny how it felt right to be held by him. Like their bodies molded together perfectly. Jungkook’s touch was familiar, and if Taehyung hadn’t known any better by now, he’d probably think he belongs in his tight embrace. 

Taehyung smiles pitifully, “It doesn’t work out that way. Not anymore.”

‘Don’t leave me. Please.’

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I did with you, Taehyung, don’t do this,” Jungkook raises his head, arms still around Taehyung as he looks at him, eyes pleading. If there’s anything people should know about him, it’s that Jeon Jungkook never begs.

Taehyung musters every power left in him to push Jungkook away, “You were in love with the idea of me in your head. The Taehyung who always said yes to everything you said, the Taehyung who tried to be okay because you never cared to listen to anything I had to say, the Taehyung who became your emotional punching bag. I… I can’t keep living that version of myself anymore.”  

‘That’s not true. I love you as you are.’

Jungkook feels smaller by the minute, but he still tries to power through.

“Tae, you can’t be serious. You can’t just throw away the years we spent together.” 

“But I don’t love you anymore, Jungkook.” 

And that shattered him. Hearing Taehyung say the words he dreaded to hear. Seeing how Taehyung is no longer his, how it’s over for the wonderful chapter he thought they both wrote. It turns out it was only Jungkook who was happy because everything was according to his terms of what a happy relationship was like.

“Why can’t you just give us one last try before we call it quits?”

Like always, when he takes him back again, it’ll be another suffocating cycle that Taehyung will choke on. The cycle of solitude will repeat as long as he stays because there’s no way Taehyung could say no to Jungkook.

But this is the last time.

Giving him an empty smile, Taehyung backs farther away from Jungkook, “I’m done begging for love, Jungkook. I’m done begging for you."

[es-kay-zee]

Good Boy | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: bang chan x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: dom!reader, sub!idol, praise, choking, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

requested: yip, by @marwahakim17

word count: 1.4k

tag list:@bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @qtieskz @hwajin

____________________

the sheets are soft against your nude back, your head resting comfortably against your pillow. warm, morning sunlight ignites the room in a golden glow. it could almost be described as peaceful if it weren’t for chan’s head between your legs.

one of your hands lays tangled in his hair while your other toys with your sensitive nipples. chan’s tongue laps at your folds, delicately swirling around your clit, providing you with the perfect amount of pleasure.

“fuck, chan. you’re doing so good for me, being such a good boy,” you breathe out. your voice is laced with moans, and your praise for the man between your legs spurs him on.

his mouth detaches from you just long enough for him to bring one of his hands to your pussy, prodding at your entrance with two of his fingers. he drags his eyes from your hole to your own, and he silently pleads for permission.

“what is it, channie? use your words,” you say, despite knowing exactly what he’s asking for.

there’s hesitation before he speaks, chan always getting shy when it comes to asking for what he wants in the bedroom.

“can i?”

you could say yes and have him slide his slender fingers into you, or you could watch as the tips of his ears are dusted with pink as he voices exactly what he wants to do.

“can you what?” he groans quietly, burying his face into your inner thigh in embarrassment. his breath tickles your skin, causing a small shiver to ripple through your body. you scratch gently at his head, coaxing him to answer your question. “c’mon, pretty boy, tell me what you want to do to me.”

“can i finger you?” his voice is muffled against your skin, and a smile graces your face.

once you respond with a yes, he presses two fingers into you, curling them against your sweet spot. his lips return to your clit, sucking against the sensitive bud. his fingers and mouth work your core in tandem, sending sparks of electricity throughout your body. you tremble with the onslaught of pleasure, your impending orgasm growing nearer and nearer with every motion of chan’s fingers and every flick of his tongue.

“shit, baby, i’m so close. you can make me cum, can’t you?” you pant out, on the verge of release.

chan doesn’t respond with words, he replies by pressing down against your pubic mound with his free hand. the added pleasure pushes you over the edge and you cum on chan’s fingers. he pulls away when you come back down from your high, looking up at you expectantly, waiting to be told what to do next.

“lay down for me,” you say, and chan is quick to obey, taking your place with his head against the pillows.

you hover over him, gently raking your nails down his bare chest, pausing to roll his sensitive nipples between your fingertips and then continue tracing down his abdomen. you watch as his breathing picks up at your actions, and you can feel his hardened cock poking at your inner thigh.

you gently trace one finger from the base of his cock to the tip, eliciting a quiet hiss from him. you pause for a moment before making your decision, slowly moving closer to him and taking him into your mouth. his cock is hot and heavy against your tongue, and you can taste the bitterness of his precum.

“holy shit,” he whispers, his eyes connecting with yours.

you watch his eyes drift shut when you take him further into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. you swallow around him, tightening your throat to increase the pleasure you provide him. one of your hands pumps what you cannot fit into your mouth, the other swirling around one of his nipples. the room is filled with a symphony of chan’s whines and moans, alongside the wet sounds of his cock in your mouth. you twirl your tongue around his length, working him ever closer to orgasm.

chan’s hands rest tentatively upon the back of your head, fingers fidgeting with strands of your hair, an attempt to distract himself from his release, not wanting to cum just yet.

his whines increase in pitch, his distraction technique failing him. you can feel him twitch in your mouth, causing you to smirk as much as you can. he tugs softly at your hair, his body screaming at him to get you to stop before he cums sooner than he’d like to.

“wait, wait, wait, wait,” chan pants, out of breath.

you pull your lips from his cock with a soft pop before responding, “what’s wrong, channie?”

“n-nothing’s wrong, just didn’t w-wanna cum yet.”

“aww, you’re adorable,” you coo quietly.

you adjust yourself, moving to straddle his hips. you line him up with your pussy, watching his face as you slowly lower yourself onto him. his face contorts in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing, mouth hanging open, and the moan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic.

you remain still, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the intrusion before swirling your hips experimentally. his hands fly to your waist, an unconscious reaction to the almost overwhelming pleasure. you move your hips again, this time slower, more drawn out, and chan’s eyes squeeze shut at the feeling.

you can feel him deep inside you, pressing into you in such a way that barely borders on uncomfortable. but you love it, you love the way he stretches you open, the way his cock drags along your walls in all the right ways.

grinding down against him, you moan. it’s intoxicating, sex with chan always has been. you look at chan with lust-filled eyes, taking in the way his chest heaves with every panted breath, the way his bottom lip rests between his teeth.

a single thought pops into your mind, and you don’t dwell on it for long before acting. you can chan had discussed choking before, but never before had you acted it out. you have no idea what compels you to do it this time, but carefully, you bring one hand to chan’s throat, slowly wrapping your fingers around it and squeezing lightly.

his breathing stutters and a mumbled curse escapes him. he twitches inside you, and you clench around him as you bounce. you fall into a steady rhythm, keeping your hand firmly around his throat. you steady yourself with your other hand planted against his chest, helping keep you upright as you move above him.

his fingertips dig into the skin on your hips, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they formed bruises later in the day. you can see the sweat running down chan’s body, and you know you look just as fucked out as he does. your hips never stop, even as your second orgasm of the morning looms on the horizon.

“you look so good like this, chan. all fucked out with my hand around your throat, so fucking good.” chan’s ears turn red at your words and you can see him fight the urge to bury his face into the nearest thing. it’s adorable how shy he gets at just a few words, hence why you love saying them.

“’m gonna cum,” he whispers, barely able to get the words out.

you keep your hips’ steady movements, moving your hand from his chest to your clit, rubbing tight circles into the bud. the added sensation triggers the beginning of your orgasms, and as he cums, so do you, walls fluttering around him. he releases white ropes while your legs tremble on either side of his hips.

once you finally come down from your high, it takes you a moment to gather your bearings. you look down at chan, smiling at his utterly fucked-out expression.

“you did so good for me, baby,” you say, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

he smiles lazily up at you, but as you go to get up, he stops you. “can we stay like this? just for a little bit?”

“we’ve gotta get up for the day,” you chuckle, not making any further attempts to move.

“pretty please? just 10 minutes?” he pouts, knowing you can’t resist him when he does, and you let out a sigh.

“fine,” you grin, laying down on him with your head in the crook of his neck. “but only 10 minutes, no longer ‘cause we’ve gotta get up for the day.”

chan hums in agreement, wrapping his arms around your back. the sunlight shining in the room is brighter than it was earlier, cascading beautifully over chan’s face. and it’s here, in his arms that you’re happy, just as he’s happy in yours.

[mizunetzu]

can I request bakugou x male reader where femboyreader is smol, pretty quite and nice, and suprisingly are really ruthless on the battlefield and bakugou is just wondering where he got it from. Until next week bakugou meets his father's and brothers and all of them are tall and very manly men. But civil and nice. Hope you have a nice day,😊

LMAO THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE

——————

Bakugou x reader - My Cute Boyfriend and His Tough-Ass Family

⚠️warnings - femboy reader, if that’s a trigger?

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Bakugou didn’t know where it came from.

One minute he was small and weak, wearing a new, girly hair pin everyday and complimenting one of the girls on their newly painted nails. The next thing he knew, he was just as batshit crazy as him during hero practice.

“Eat shit and die!” Bakugou flung across the air, sending a big blast over to (Y/n’s) location. (Y/n) sped away, dodging it with his quirk. He growled.

“Go to fucking hell!”

“Like hell I would, shit-for-brains! Suck my dick!” Bakugou landed on the ground, softening the impact with a blast pointed towards the floor. He stood there, a few good feet away from (Y/n). They were both breathing heavily, glaring down each other like they wanted to absolutely murder the other.

(Y/n) let out a piercing battle cry, before charging head first towards Bakugou and bringing his arms out to tackle him. Bakugou followed suite, charging towards him like a bull with his arm outstretched to deck him in the face.

They got closer and closer, Bakugou’s flashy explosions igniting in the air while (Y/n’s) quirk began to power up. Closer, closer, until-

“Times up!”

All might yelled over the intercom, and both students skidded awkwardly to a stop. Bakugou tumbled over with an angry shout, and (Y/n) sputtered, tripping over Bakugou’s torso making him fall to the ground as well.

“Get offa’ me, crossdresser!”

“I’m not a crossdresser, spiky bitch!”

“Your hero costume is literally a fucking skirt-!”

“Alright alright, young men! The battle is over, no need to keep fighting!” All Might awkwardly chuckled from the intercom. (Y/n) pouted, and swept himself off of Bakugou. Bakugou scoffed aswell, not even looking at (Y/n) as they both walked towards the observation building.

——

“Aaah! Katsuki! I’m sorry for yelling at you during hero training today!”

(Y/n) jogged up to Bakugou, gently clutching his backpack straps and slowing down to a walk. Bakugou huffed. There he went again, that totally insane side of him that came from absolutely nowhere was gone.

“Like I care, shit-for-brains.”

“A-anyways,” (Y/n) cleared his throat. “Do you wanna study at my house today? Or just...y’know, hangout?”

(Y/n) blushed as he ended his question. Bakugou stared down at him. If he told someone this was the same person yelling insults and profanities on the battlefield while fucking shit up, they’d think he was lying.

“(Y/n’s) house?” Bakugou mumbled to himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there before...”

“Sorry, did you say something? You’re not really the type to mumb-“

“I didn’t say shit, shittyass! Go die!” Bakugou yelled. (Y/n) chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t think you’ve ever been to my house either.” (Y/n) sighed. Bakugou scoffed and shoved his hands further down his pockets. “You better make a good impression on my family, or they probably won’t let me hang out with you anymore.”

His family was probably just as fragile and dainty as him, was what Bakugou thought. He already saw the hugs and kisses and the “Hello, Mrs. and Mr. (L/n)” he’d have to choke out. He rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

——

“I’m home!”

A woman’s voice echoed through the house as (Y/n) and Bakugou both took off their shoes.

“Welcome back!”

“I brought my boyfriend over mom! Bakugou Katsuki-the one I was telling you about!”

He heard his mom gasp and timper into the entrance of the house, wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon. Bakugou was right. Dainty, fragile mother; dainty, fragile (Y/n).

Bakugou cleared his throat, suppressing the gag that was about to come out.

“P-pardon the intrusion.”

“...Ehhhh? (Y/n), don’t tell me you brought one of your little dress-up friends over.” A different voice came from behind both (Y/n) and Bakugou. A young, male voice. Bakugou whipped his head around.

“Haaah?!”

“Ooooh! Feisty!”

The boy, who couldn’t be older than a middle schooler, cracked his knuckles. There was something so familiar about the way he talked.

“What’d you say to me, you extra?!”

“K-katsuki...” (Y/n) whisper-yelled, wrapping his arms around Bakugou in attempts to hold him back. The boy laughed in his face.

Just as the boy was about to say something, an older boy chopped him in the back of the neck, effectively subduing the smaller one.

“Shut up! (Y/n) said he was bringing his boyfriend over! Don’t scare him away like we do all of his other friends.”

Bakugou looked up at the older one. He looked about his age, but damn was he tall. And muscular too. The boy from before may have been at least athletic-looking, but this guy just...

“W-who the hell-?!”

“Now, now boys. Don’t need to get so physical.” A deeper, throaty voice came from down the hallway, it’s heavy footsteps growing louder and louder as it came closer. A tall, well built man came through the hall, crossing his arms. You could clearly see his muscles bulge through his office shirt. “Did you all come back from school? Welcome back.”

All three boys chorused out a string of hellos. Bakugou looked from who he assumed was the dad, then the two boys, than (Y/n).

There was no way in hell they were related.

“Are-“ Bakugou croaked. “Are you adopted or something?!”

“Katsuki!”

His mother laughed, covering her mouth with her free hand. (Y/n’s) mother was the only one who Bakugou would assume was, well, his mother. But these...men?

“You’re probably the only person who didn’t go running once they saw these boys in our house, Katsuki. A lot of (Y/n’s) little friends go running because Natsu teases them too much or Kaito and his father scares them off.”

“This one’s different, mom!” (Y/n) intertwined his hands with Bakugou’s. “Sometimes I yell and get all bwaaah during training-but he doesn’t mind!”

“Oh, well that’s good,” (Y/n’s) father ran a hand through his hair. “That explains why he hasn’t ran off the moment we walked in.”

Bakugou blinked. (Y/n) leaned in close. “Trust me, it happened before.”

(Y/n) timpered off to greet his brothers. Bakugou looked between all 3 boys. Despite how built and tall these testosterone-soaked males were, the way they talked and carried themselves gave off the same energy (Y/n) did during hero training. Was that where he got it? From these...men?

(Y/n) was forced into a headlock, his brother laughing scrubbing at his forehead as (Y/n) groaned. He thrashed around, albeit laughing, and tried to pry off his brothers hands.

“Come on-I thought you were training to be a hero! Where’s your muscles, huh?”

“I could easily throw you into the sun, don’t start. You’re just jealous I look better in skirt than you do.”

“Bullshit! I’m sexy as fuck!” His grip was temporarily loosened, giving (Y/n) the opportunity to slip out. “It’s not my fault none of your skirts fit me!”

“...But you know who it would fit?” (Y/n’s) other brother, the middle schooler, turned mischievously towards Bakugou.

“Hell no.”

——

“I’m going to fucking murder you.”

“Hey, now. That’s not very hero-like.”

“Yeah Katsuki! Not very heroic of you.”

“Murder is no good. You’ll get (Y/n)-nii’s dress dirty.”

Bakugou shook with anger as he stood in (Y/n’s) room. He sported a pink, frilly, strawberry-pink dress, that had small strawberries littered around it and stopped below his knees. His muscles peeked through the soft thin material of the dress, and the way he stood with his legs spread apart angrily was hidden under the layers of pink.

“Oh! Oh! Wait!” (Y/n) stepped into his closet with an excited smile. After a few seconds of rustling and shoving away hangers, (Y/n) popped back out with a matching dress on. His dress, however, had a baby blue tint with small blueberries scattered across the fabric.

(Y/n) did a little twirl. “Don’t I look pretty, Katsuki?”

Bakugou, crossed his arms, doing whatever it took to suppress the blush growing on his face. “Sure...whatever.”

(Y/n) happily stood next to Bakugou, smoothing out the crinkles in his blueberry dress and grabbing hold of Bakugou’s hand. “Tada~! We match~”

“You guys look like the strawberry and blueberry milk boxes I buy from vending machines at school.”

“Haah?!” (Y/n) gripped Bakugou’s hand harder. “What’d you say?!”

Bakugou stole a glance at (Y/n’s) angry face. Not gonna lie, he thought it was a bit attractive when he looked like he was gonna beat up his own brother in a frilly blue dress. He pursed his lips.

These guys taught (Y/n) well. If (Y/n) wasn’t as intense as he was during hero work, he didn’t think he’d ever fall in love with him, not the same way he is right now, at least. He felt sorta glad his family wasn’t a soft, fragile family of extras. Bakugou closed his eyes, and smirked.

“Yeah! The fuck’d you say to us, you lil punks?!”

——————

[deepenthevoid]

First running review of watching stranger things for the first time:

Episode 1.

-NO FLASH WARNING????

-typical terrified doctor running away from mysterious force in a darkly lit building. I bet it’s gonna be some supernatural monster. He’s def gonna die. It is gonna pan out to a happy friends/family thing next or a police office? PO might be too much CM to lol…

-NOT THE ELEVATOR YOU DUMMY

-istg if these lights flick off one by one or turn off and turn back on to a monster who runs to him….

-yep. toldja not to use the elevator. Dr is dead. Stupid. It was in fact a monster. Idk what. Is this the demigorgon everyone talks abt? I thought those were tall? It wasn’t shown but on the roof of the elevator? Unless the elevator is absurdly tall why the the doctor completely disappear?

-panned out to a water spigot thingie. What??

-panned out to friends telling each other a scary story. Cute. 🫶🏼 the Curly haired kid. I forgot his name. Devin? Dustin! He’s a cutie I wanna pinch his cheeks and give him a lollipop and pat his head. He would be a cute lil bro. Nerd.

-foreshadowing. It’s a demOgorgon. (The monster attacking the doctor.) (how did a demogoron come to earth??? Manifestation???)

-NANCY IS MIKES OLDER SISTER??? WHAT.

-mikes mom is a milf. Omg. I want in on that.

-Ayo. AYO. THE DEMOGORGON GOT HIM. AYO NOT THE FORESHADOWING. SAVE WILLBYLER. #SAVEWILL WTF????????

-the music is good. I love the cinematic of the bike lights. Nicely done.

-BAHAHA DUSTIN.

-what the fuck is this boy doing?? Doesn’t he know to his friends house?

-THE FUCK IS THAT???? Nah bro this is like Damon on TVD wtf. RUN WHAT IS THAT. EEEEEEK FUCK OUTTA HERE WHAT

-nope. Nope. I don’t fuck w that. RUN LIL BOY.

-I don’t think I can watch this

-COMEDIC RELIEF WOULD BE GOOD RN

-SOMEONE OPEN THE DAMN DOOR AND DONT LET IT BE THE DEMOGORGON

-WHY IS IT HUNTING THIS LIL BOY?? WHY WILL??

-sacrifice the loud dog and run. GOOD BOY.

-idk how but I just KNOW it’ll be behind him. I bet he’ll drop the gun.

-I’m trembling. It’s paused. These directors are gooooood. Or maybe I’m just a sissy.

-I KNEW IT.

-WHERED HE GO TF? QUIT HIDING THIS SHIT WTF

-DONT SMOKE IN THE HOUSE DAD ITLL TURN UR CEILINGS BLACK AND THE WHOLE HOUSE WILL SMELL BAD! BAD!!!!

-acab but damn his butt is huge I wanna bite it

-intrusive thoughts. Goddamn. I don’t even know his name. War criminal demogorgon destroyer prison escapee guy

-don’t get onto your son when he’s trying to help out. Idk who he is but he’s a good kid. You’re pissing me off and it’s the first episode, ms byler.

-no bike locks? Whew. Those r the safe old towns I guess. Old days.

-is that young Tom holland?

-Tom holland wannabe I better not hear a racially motivated statement coming from you…

-at least it wasn’t racially motivated. Sorry Dustin.

-bullying is never okay. Sic the demogorgon on them.

-I just KNOW Nancy acts like hermione. Goody twoshoes but outside of society just a fuckin badass rockstar.

-god I love redheads. Her body is to die for. Gorgeous person. Wow. Idk u yet but I’m just in awe.

-um EXCUSE ME??? NANCYS HANDS?? I FUCKING LOVE WOMEN OH YM GOD.

-Steve move out of the way I’m imagining Nancy is in love with me.

-YES MAAM SET THOSE BOUNDARIES.

-ok Steve looks pretty sharp in those clothes…

-Alexa play djo…

-who the fuck is Lonnie? Good on her to know her sons sexuality. Bad on her to use it as an insult or something to be ashamed of. No wonder will is quiet and reserved. This actor is good. How old is he in this episode? I’m proud of you, Noah schnapp. You’re an amazing actor even at this age. Incredible.

-hopper and miss thang have a history??

-notes from my knowledge of s4: THEYRE NOT TOGETHER?? IM SO FUCKIN CONFUSED???

-LONNIES A MAN???

-ohhhh Lonnie’s probably wills dad. Nothing to do w this huh??… maybe Lonnie is behind the lore of why will is connected to the underworld or the other world or the nether portal idk what it’s fuckin called the uk or whatever

-dr Brenner huh? What is this, the hulk?

-…that’s banner. Shut up, marvel fans.

-IS THAT PAPA???

-send in the mf swat team not a bunch of fuckin doctors wtf??

-ngl the kitty throbbed when he got authoritative talk like that more daddy drunk cop man

-the dad of mike is just fucking clueless 😭 people want bimbo men well there is one 😭

-why is Nancy wearing HEELS in her ROOM? I wear my crocs 😭

-HE IS SUCKING HER FACE. Straight ppl 🙁

-ooo a smooth talker…

-here’s a theory: mike only likes el in a romantic way bc she appeared in a moment of need when they were looking for will and helped get will back. Mike likes el bc she symbolizes wills safety to mike while also fitting into society’s stigma of mlw instead of mike being mlm

ALRIGHT FOLKS THATS ALL OF EPISODE 1. Thanks for joining me.!

[arvinsescape]

Being public

Summary: You and Tom have recently gone public and he gets asked about you in an interview.

W/C: 1.3K

A/N: I hope you enjoy!

You and Tom had been together for almost a year and a half and you couldn’t be happier, although he hadn’t had many relationships throughout his career, he knew he felt different about you. You felt like home to him, he was the most excited to see you whenever he came back from filming or touring for press. He’d asked you to move in with him throughout the quarantine and pandemic, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to cope with not seeing you and so you’d moved in with him and the boys.

You’d recently made the decision to go public, it wasn’t an easy one and he was incredibly nervous, he knew what some of his fanbase could be like and with you not being famous he wanted to wait as long as possible in order to protect you from the onslaught of negative comments. When you had gone public, most of his fans were actually very lovely and supportive, happy to see their favourite actor in a happy and loving relationship. Of course, that didn’t stop some people from being rude and unkind towards you. You did your best to ignore it, only using social media for brief periods of time in order to not get stuck in the wormhole of reading nasty comments.

He was recently set to do an interview over skype in order to promote his new film, this would be the first one he’d done since you’d become public. He was nervous because he knew that he was going to be asked about you and he didn’t want to let too much slip, you’d spent hours calming his nerves before the interview, reassuring him that it would be okay and that if he did let anything slip that you would deal with it together. He’d started the interview almost 20 minutes ago, having left you and Tess cuddled up on the couch together, the interview going well so far as they discussed his newest role. But inevitably the questions about the film had dried out and the interviewer wanted to know more about the woman who had stolen his heart.

“So, Tom, you’ve recently revealed that you are in fact not single?”

“No, I’m in a very happy relationship, we’ve been together around a year and a half now.” He answered, he couldn’t help the grin that spread onto his face as he thought about you.

“What made you decide to go public after all this time?”

“The timing just felt right. We talked about it for weeks before we decided to confirm everything to the world. When everything opens back up it will be nice to go out for meals without having to try and hide, you know?” He answered as he thought back to the lengthy conversations you’d had about the subject.

“Where did you meet her?”

“We actually met in a coffee shop just down the road from my house, I saw her with a few friends. Took me at least half an hour to pluck up the courage to actually speak to her.” He laughed as he replayed the memory.

“She is very beautiful I must say.” Tom couldn’t help but smile at that. “What’s she like? She seems quite private still.”

“She’s amazing, honestly. She’s so kind and intelligent. Much more intelligent than me.” This earned a laugh from both the interviewer and Tom. “She’s incredibly patient and supportive of everything that I do. She’s quite honestly one of the most amazing people I have ever met.”

“She certainly sounds it. What is it she does for a living?” The interviewer asked him. He took a few seconds before he answered. This was something he decided should be kept private. He didn’t want people knowing where you worked in case anything happened, he’d heard enough horror stories of crazy fans ringing into places that their celebrity crushes partner worked, and he didn’t want that stress for you.

“I’m actually not going to answer that. She does have a job, but I think for her safety and privacy it’s best left alone.” He answered in the politest way possible.

“Fair enough, can’t argue with that. How well does she get along with your family? It seems you’re a very family orientated person.”

“My family absolutely love her. She sees them when I’m away filming quite a lot. Goes on coffee dates with my mum and dad. My brothers come round to check on her and spend time with her. They absolutely love her, sometimes I think they prefer her to me.” He laughed.

“That’s amazing to hear Tom! Where is she right now?”

“She’s actually in the other room with Tess. Ever since she moved in, you’d think Tess was her dog, she absolutely adores her. Follows her around everywhere. Mopes around the house when she goes out to run errands. She’s always more excited to see Y/N than she is me.” He smiled; he really did love the relationship you had with his dog.

A few more questions were thrown in before they said their goodbyes. Tom switched his laptop off and stretched, proud of himself for keeping private what you’d wanted to and happy that he had an interviewer that wasn’t to intrusive and pushy, happy to take no for an answer. All the talking about you made his heart flutter and he couldn’t wait to get back into his comfy clothes and snuggle up with you on the couch for the night.

As he made his way back into the living room his heart stopped as he took you in. You were silently crying. Shit, had he said something he wasn’t supposed to? His mind was running a million miles an hour as he tried to think of what he might have said to upset you. He knew you’d been watching the interview.

“Baby? Are you okay?” he asked as he hesitantly made his way towards you. You sniffled and looked up at him with a grin on your face.

“I’m fine. Just a little emotional about what you said about me.” You answered as he sat down next to you. He pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. His heart rate had returned to normal as he realised that he hadn’t upset you.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know, I just love you so much and I’m on my period so I’m feeling super emotional. They’re happy tears I promise.” You answered as you leant up to kiss his cheek. His heart fluttered at that. He really did love you more than he thought possible. He knew you were the woman for him.

“I love you too darling. I meant all of it you know. You really are amazing, and I love you a whole lot.” He grinned as your tears subsided. You spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch, watching films and expressing your love for one and other. You’d fallen asleep leant on his chest a while ago and Tom took the opportunity to scroll through his social media. All his fans were talking about was how happy they were for him and how they wished they could find a man who loved them like Tom loved Y/N. He smiled at the overwhelming amount of love and support being thrown your way and the amount of fans that were defending you from the small amount of hate you had received. He locked his phone content with how much better going public had been for the two of you.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here!

A/N: I apologize for all the profanity in this part ahead of time. I think I’m going to do M/W/Sat updates, as long as my writing permits, and then maybe Wed/Sat updates. I got the day off because it snowed so I thought I would post this since it’s ready haha

* Well you’re royally f*cked

* There’s a big stupid smile curled on your face, and every time you try to hide it, it just comes back wider

* You really shouldn’t be happy right now

* “What has you in such a good mood?” Edward’s got a matching smile of his own.

* Oh shit. It’s fine, you’ll just play dumb.

* “How do you know I’m happy?” How about the dumb grin you’ve got on your face you stupid b*tch.

* You would have smacked your own forehead if you weren’t aware Edward was watching your every move

* You’re lucky Edward’s nice and he doesn’t call you out on it

* “Whenever you’re happy it kind of radiates off of you,” his voice lowers “you know because of your powers”

* Ah, you didn’t know you did that

* “So what do you think about the new girl?” You blurt it out like it’s an intrusive thought

* F*ck. Just-okay just play it cool. Play it cool.

* F********ckkkkk what’s wrong with you.

* Is being happy making you act like a moron?

* He shrugs

* “Just another human, I kind of wish everyone would shut up about it though. Having to hear people talk about her and think about her is getting annoying. It’s like being in a tunnel with one too many echoes.”

* Ah, so he hasn’t noticed yet.

* “I wonder what she’s thinking about.”

* Edward just shrugs again.

* What the f*ck Edward take a hint!

* “Edward?”

* “Yes dear?” He has the nerve to grin after using that pet name. The criminal is teasing you. Some best friend.

* And still it makes you outrageously happy

* You have to force your smile into a straight line

* “What’s the new girl thinking?”

* He looks over to her, Tyler and Mike are fighting for her attention, both of them a moment away from tugging on each arm and shouting “mine!”

* You see him search, you’ve heard enough about his powers to know right now it’s like mall food court level of chatter for him, but in a few seconds he’ll focus on her and realize he can’t hear her thoughts.

* Knowing how prideful he is though, he’ll probably deny it.

* “I don’t know I can’t read her mind” he says bluntly. “Do you think the school music teacher would teach me how to play violin if I asked?”

* “What?!?”

* “I know it’s kind of inconsiderate to ask but-“ you click your tongue

* “No not that!” You gesture towards Bella “you can’t read her mind?!? Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

* His eyebrows thread together

* “I can’t read your mind either”

* Yes but you’re from a completely different world, in a body that radiates despair (and apparently joy now). You’re basically like some type of eldritch being from another dimension. 

* Edward doesn’t see it that though

* “Honestly it’s a relief, one less mind I have to tune out.” He walks ahead of you as you stay motionless in the middle of the hallway

* What the f*ck is happening?

* “Are you coming? We’re going to be late for Biology if you keep lagging behind like that.”

* How could you forget? The whole story starts because Edward is super into Bella’s blood! He fantasizes killing her for like- the entire class period.

* You were worried for nothing, just because they didn’t have the cafeteria moment isn’t that big of a deal

* The thought makes you both relieved and a little sad

* Still it’s for the best, this is the way things are supposed to be

* And who knows, if you have to leave maybe you can poach Rosalie and Emmett to leave with you

* And maybe Jasper, he won’t like having a human around the house all the time

* “Mr. Cullen, Ms. Eleazar” Mr. Banner hands you each a worksheet.

* Oh right the onion cell worksheet. Ah right the mitosis crap. Well hopefully Mike remembers enough that you both can hobble through

* “New year means new seating arrangement!” He tells you both excitedly. The seating arrangements on the projector.

* “Why am I next to Edward isn’t the seating arrangement supposed to be alphabetical?”

* “I decided to go by grade this time, you should be happy! Aren’t you two...friends?” You can tell your teacher is confused by the nature of your relationship, almost as much as you are. 

* “Super happy Teach.” You mumble taking your seat next to Edward who’s grinning like an idiot

* “You can’t say he’s picking favorites when it’s merit based.” He grins and you roll your eyes

* Angela’s sitting next to Ben Cheney, they seem to be discussing the trigonometry homework, and how it’s basically impossible

* Oh right, he’s supposed to be her boyfriend this year. 

* Personally you think Angela could do way better. But love is blind, you’ll ship it if you have to. 

* And right on cue Mike walks in, Bella following close behind. He takes his seat on the table behind you while Bella talks to Mr. Barnes

* “Why didn’t you guys sit with us at lunch today?” Mike is practically leaned over the entire width of the table.

* Before you can say anything Edward snorts

* “Because (Y/N) was getting lectured for staying out all night again”

* Mike looks like his eyes might pop out of his head

* “W-what? Out all night?! Without inviting me!” You roll your eyes.

* “He’s making it more dramatic, I went out for a run early in the morning because I couldn’t sleep and everyone was freaking out because they thought I got kidnapped.”

* Like any vampire or human stood a chance against you and your violent mood swings

* Mike’s so caught up in lecturing you about how you need to be more careful

* “There’s a lot of weirdos out there!” Yeah you live with them

* That he doesn’t even notice Bella’s taken a seat next to him

* Now that you get a better look at her, she is kinda pretty. She’s the kind of person who probably always looks good in photographs, no matter what the angle. Nice cheekbones and big brown eyes. Modest on boobs and butt, but she’s skinny so it works for her.

* “Hey, you’re Bella right?” You give her your friendliest smile, and you don’t miss the light blush that blooms on her face.

* You’re not sure whether it’s from your beauty or because she’s just not used to so much attention. She just nods.

* “Have you already seen the three whole things there are to do in Town on a Friday night?”

* Bella actually laughs at that. She’s got dimples, and little wrinkles that show up at the corner of her eyes. It’s cute.

* “One of those things is going to the library, so really it’s only two things.”

* She giggles again.

* “Is the other one going over to your house to play monopoly?” Mike asks, a grin arching onto his face

* “No my house is out of town, the other thing is to go to the school football game”

* “I’m not really a big fan of football” Bella hesitantly says, and Mike and Edward laugh

* “Yeah no one here does, everyone goes for the half time show, or just to hang out.” 

* You’re pretty sure your entire friend group only goes to the games to see your cheer routine, especially this year since you’re captain now. The first junior captain in a long time apparently. The news actually made the local newspaper.

* Everything is going good, and you’re starting to think maybe you and Bella might be friends.

* “Why don’t we have a board game night at our house again? Last time was-“

* You stop sentence, you were having so much fun you almost forgot why Edward was so obsessed with Bella.

* The slight breeze from the air conditioning brings her scent to you.

* You cover your mouth and nose with your hand

* Her scent is REVOLTING

* “(Y/N), are you okay?” Mike asks

* You vaguely feel Edward’s hand on your shoulder, has he not caught her scent yet?

* It’s pretty hard to miss

* Like gym socks, with a overly sweet base, it’s like-

* Your head snaps up, and your hand clamps over your mouth and nose even harder, but not because the scent is revolting

* She smells like cheese, perfectly aged Gorgonzola cheese, or maybe Brie?

* You smell the sweeter undercurrent stronger now, it’s like warm juicy peaches

* Roasted peach salad tossed with Gorgonzola and olive oil

* How many times have you dreamed about eating that while basking in the warm sunlight

* “I knew you shouldn’t have eaten those leftovers at lunch,” Edward says, but you know it’s performative, thank god he’s still got some sense after smelling her.

* “Mr.Banner, I think (Y/N) ate something bad, is it alright if I help them to the nurses office?”

* “Yes and hurry!” He’s practically shooing you out as Edward pulls you by the arm

* Nooooo, you wanna smell her moreeee

* You have the sense to not wine and keep your mouth covered.

* Edward doesn’t take you to the nurse, you both don’t stop walking until you’re at the parking lot

* “What the hell was that?” He asks, it’s the first time he’s seemed even remotely angry with you

* He seems more confused then angry though, you’re so shocked you actually sit down on the curb.

* And after a moment of hesitance Edward sits beside you, placing his hand over your own

* “She smells good Edward, like really good.”

* Edward laughs

* “Yeah I gathered that” he shakes his head. “I thought you were supposed to be a picky eater”

* “I aaaaamm” you moan, your head is cradled in your left hand. “She’s like one in a million”

* “You’re one in a million” you lift your head to see Edward looking at you with that stupid sh*t eating grin.

* “Really Edward my life is falling apart because I want to eat someone, and you think the appropriate response is to flirt?”

* To be fair, he’s always flirting, it’s basically apart of his personality at this point

* “You’re being melodramatic.” He chuckles and throws an arm over your shoulder. “Worst case scenario you kill her, Carlisle doles out his funeral punishment-don’t ask, and then we have to start over as freshman again somewhere else.”

* You groan, you finally worked your way up to a junior, you were just starting to get used to this crappy town, you don’t wanna start all over again in a new one

* “What’s the best case scenario?”

* Edward thinks hard for a minute.

* “Best case scenario...the music teacher agrees to teach me how to play the violin and I impress you with my magnificent playing.” You smack him on the arm.

* “Not the best case scenario for you!” You know he’s doing it on purpose. He just wants to make you laugh

* It works, you do laugh. How much more absurd could this situation get?

* “Everything’s going to be fine, if Jasper can handle having to smell 300 students he thinks smell good, you can handle 1.” 

* He’s got a point

* “Wait-didn’t she smell good to you?” Wasn’t that like, the whole d*mn point?

* His eyebrows thread together and he shrugs

* “Um, she smelled alright, no better or worse than the others. I’m not sure what you smelled-“

* What you smelled? The rich but refreshing flavor profile is sublime

* The f*cking heathen doesn’t even know what he’s missing

* “But to me she smelled like peaches”

* Well he kinda knows what he’s missing

* “She’s definitely anemic though, there’s a sever lack of iron in her scent” ah that must be that cheesy smell you’re getting

* Well ain’t this ironic. The girl who’s going to steal your best friend is only getting noticed because of you.

* “I don’t know, personally I prefer Henrietta the 3rds blood, but that’s just me” he’s lying, your blood is good and all, but it’s definitely still not on par with a humans blood

* He’s just trying to make you feel better.

* He rubs your shoulder, before patting it and moving to stand up.

* “Now come on, we have to make you eat some human food so you can throw up in front of the nurse and she lets us leave school early”

* You roll your eyes, anything to leave school early huh?

* “Yeah all right, lead the way Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding”

* “Why do you always say that? I don’t brood that much anymore!”

* “You know how some people have resting b*tch face? You have resting brood face.”

* “Says the person who literally radiates despair” you shove him as you both walk towards the vending machine

* You take a deep breath as you watch Edward fumble with the vending machine

* The dork literally sticks a credit card up to the glass and demands the machine give him chips. 

* (Y/N/N) why isn’t this working? Am I supposed to insert my card through this slot?” 

* You laugh. You’re pretty sure he’s not doing this on purpose.

* “You’re supposed to use cash Edward.”

* You watch as he fumbles with his wallet muttering:

* “Do you think it’ll take a twenty dollar bill?”

* You watch in amusement as Edward tries - and fails- to use a twenty dollar bill, and then proceed to use obscure profanities to curse “this vile wretch of human technological advancement” 

* You feel a sigh of relief escape you.

* Yeah, everything is going to be fine. 

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

[giant-sketches]

Happy birthday @gentlegiantdreamer!!!  You are such a wonderful and inspiring person to me and I hold you dear to my heart! So for your birthday I made you this art and wrote you a little story to go along with it. I wish you a day full of fun and love! There is also a speedpaint!

I hope you can feel the effort I put into this and long hours of work too. I hope you and everyone enjoys my interpretations of Lilypadton and enjoy the story. Disclaimer: Almost Drowning/Cussing/Pain/Shouting/Monster Transformations

Word Count: 1746

At the start Patton was very active after his first transformation as Lilypadton. That may have been due to him going about the day believing it was a one time deal, but that wasn’t the case. From time to time the other sides would catch glimpses of his skin turning green around his hands and dark patches appearing on his neck. However, whenever the subject was brought up with the moral side he’d brush it off as a trick of the light or some kind of baking material he missed in his clean up. They all knew better though, especially his boyfriends Janus and Virgil.

“We need to go talk to him….TODAY!” Janus was pacing around Virgil’s room with his arms crossed, expressing his impatience with his partner.

Virgil thought it best to give Patton space, but his changes were becoming more frequent. Now things were even worse as their cutie had locked himself in his room for the past two days.

“I know you wanted to give him space, but now he’s trapped himself in his room. We’re the only ones on this side of the mindscape that can help him through this.” Janus hissed and cursed himself for not doing something sooner.

“Please calm down Jan.” Virgil got up from his bed to hold his boyfriend. “It’s going to be alright. Let’s go see him now and tell him about what’s happening to him.” He paused in thought. “Though, I never thought we’d ever have this kind of discussion with him honestly. To think he was like us this whole time.”

Janus touched his scaled face and looked at Virgil with soft eyes. “Are you going to show him? You know how h-” “Yeah I know...but I have to. It wouldn’t be fair for me to hide it when he’s going through something ten times worse.” Janus kissed Virgil’s cheek to reassure him.

Both left the room and slowly made their way to Patton’s door. Virgil tried the door knob, still locked. “Patton? Sweetpea we’ve come here to see how you are doing. Can you let us in, please?” Silence...no wait there was some kind of groaning sound coming from behind the door. “G-go away…” Was that Patton just now? It sounded like he was gurgling water while trying to speak.

“We can’t do that! We have something important to talk-or show you!” Janus looked to Virgil nervously. The former dark side nodded his head as Jan’s nails grew out to a point and sliced the doorknob off. “Excuse the intrusion.”

Both stepped into a darkened and rather humid room. Thankfully, both of them could see in the dark. In the corner they spotted Patton curled up and shaking, facing the wall. He visibly showed signs of changing with his green tinted skin and dark patches all over his arms and neck. “Pat?”

Startled, Patton sprang to his feet and turned to face them. They gasped at how their little buddy appeared taller now, his eyes now distinctly like a frog’s, and his hair showed faded tips of green. His eyes were filled with tears as he had to look down at his friends. He felt like a monster!

“No, no please….you have to LEAVE!” Patton’s voice croaked and boomed as he shot up another 10 feet and banged his head on the ceiling with a loud thunk. He groaned as he fell to his hands. The tears intensified as water seeped from the cracks in the wall and began flooding the room.

“Shit! Hold on to me!” Virgil clung to Janus for dear life as they quickly rose to the ceiling with the increasing water level. Patton was down below still weeping and expanding. His form pressing up against every nook and cranny of his tiny room. “Patton! Patton please! You need to stop crying or we’re going to- gurrglrrglr”

Time was up. The water had now completely filled the room as Janus and Virgil started sinking. Luckily, their froggy friend heard their pleas and snapped out of his distress. Quickly he expanded the room, changing it’s form as he scooped up the two tenderly in his webbed hands. With a kick of his strong legs Pat breached the surface. The room was now a large pond with only a small island in the center. The sun was warm and there was the sound of life all around them, but this was no time to relax.

“Virgil? Janus? Oh my gosh please, you have to be okay kiddos! Please!” Patton begged for his sweethearts to be okay as he set them on the soft grass. He poked at their stomachs as gently as he could.

*Cough* *Cough*

Oh thank goodness! Both were hacking up small volumes of water as they gasped for air, sweet-sweet air! “Patton?” Their vision was foggy from nearly drowning as they tried to focus on the green blob in front of them. Virgil raised up his arms, “A-are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay?! Are you okay? You two almost drowned b-because of me!” The big softie was on the verge of tears once again as he leaned in to nuzzle his dark darling with his nose.

“Woah...how big are you Patty?” Virgil giggled. He definitely wasn’t expecting to be cuddled by a gentle green snout of all things. “We’re okay Pat. Just a bit out of breath and-” Janus shivered, he had gotten too cold.

Virgil noticed as he escaped from Patton’s schnoz and immediately started cuddling up to his scaly boyfriend to warm him up. Pat climbed up onto the island, but at his current size of 100 feet he covered the majority of it as he scooped them up in his hand to hold them both closer to the sun. Jan was thankful for this as he hissed happily. His cold blood started to run warm again.

“Thank you darling! The numbness is fading now.” He lifted himself up to look at Patton with a warm expression. “Wow, look at you Pat.” “Yeah, Mr. Green right here.” They both joked to cut the tension. Patton laughed along with them as the ground shook, causing ripples in the water. His size really was something to behold. Still, their joy was cut short, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bottled up my emotions like that and hidden away. You two could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“Oh Patty! We understand…w-we have something to tell you.” Virgil looked to Janus hoping he would start. “That’s right Patton, Virgil and I have both gone through what you’re experiencing right now. Okay, maybe not the exact same thing, but something similar.”

Patton was surprised. “W-what do you mean?” Janus smiled flashing his fangs, “I’m sure you’ve already noticed my face, but have you ever wondered why it looks like this?” Pat shook his head, he always thought it’d be taboo to ask about. “It’s because of my monster side.”

Monster side?! What was that? Patton was obviously confused as Virgil spoke up, “Mhm...Janus, Remus, and I...we all have a monster side to us. Janus doesn’t hide his like I do though and Remus is always shifting so it just seems ‘normal’ for him. It was a huge surprise when yours was revealed. Honestly, I never thought you’d be like us Pat.” Virg was feeling anxious as he kept his head down while talking.

“B-but you’ve never looked like Janus at all Stormcloud. What does your monster side look like?” Damn...that was a question he really wanted to avoid. “Guess there’s no use hiding it anymore huh? B-before I show you, you have to promise me you won’t freak out...okay Pat?”

Virgil looked so serious as he stared at Patton. What was he so worried about? “Awe kiddo, you know I’d never be scared of you! I love you too much!” He beamed a smile that put the sun to shame at them as Virgil sighed feeling a bit more relieved. “Alright.”

Concentrating, he closed his eyes as eight pitch black spider legs spread out from his back starting from the spine. He winced in pain, it’d been a long time since he last transformed. A pair of sharp mandibles poked out from the corners of his mouth; four slits opened up underneath his cheeks in pairs, each containing a solid black eye with a hint of purple.

“Aaaahhhh!!!” Suddenly, Virgil screamed lightly in pain as the transformation came to end with his new set of fangs and claws growing to a point. Janus caught him as he slumped over, huffing from exhaustion. Weakly, he looked up to Patton trying his best to smile.

Patton was mortified as he watched Virgil writhe in pain in his hand. When it all finally came to an end he was looking eyes wide at a big black spider...fuck! His heart was racing as he tried to not physically throw his boyfriend into the pond. Wait! That’s right this was his little sweetie, his Stormcloud, Prince of Darkness, etc. There was no need to be so scared...he gulped as he reached down to stroke his loves face.

Oh! He was still so soft and honestly his spider legs kind of tickled. The fear in his heart dissolved instantly. Patton giggled at how nervous he was only moments ago as he pressed them both to his cheek. “So I’m not alone after all.”

God, Virgil was instantly healed by his Sweetpea’s warmth. He hugged into the green flesh happily. “Of course not Patton, we’ll both always be here for you!”

“I’m so happy right now! You two are the best boyfriends in the whole wide world!!!”

Patton slid into the pond once more as he laid on his back. He kissed his cuties to his plush lips and then placed them right on top of his chest as he floated along the water. All the while they laughed and smiled at their giant lovers' touch.

“This new form is scary, but at long as I have you two I think I’ll be okay.”

“We love you Patton and we’ll always love you no matter what you are.”

The couple laid on Pat’s chest as tiny frogs hopped up from the lily pads to play with them as they enjoyed their time together. All content in knowing that each of them had a little cute monster inside of them that made them special.

[whump-mania]

Cod you do a deal leader drabble where Daniel and Hunter almost kill Quinn?

previous / next

(be VERY careful with this one! read all of the warnings!)

(tw: 18+ noncon and kind of explicit discussion of it, brief misgendering, exploration of sadism, knife torture/cutting, blood, unconsciousness, near death experience, multiple whumpers, cursing, brief suicidal thought)

“No no, you have to go slowly, like you’re drawing it out. Yeah, yeah, there you go!”

Hunter clapped Daniel on the back, watching over his leader’s shoulder. Underneath Daniel was a squirming, screaming, sobbing Quinn, shirtless with their back covered in blood at the lines Daniel was making with his knife.

“Don’t patronize me,” Daniel grumbled as he brought the knife back down again. He made a slow line from Quinn’s shoulder to their middle back, watching intently at the blood that flowed out. Quinn’s screaming picked up, filling the room.

Daniel cringed and lifted the knife. “Can’t you gag them with something?” He barked at Hunter, who just chuckled and found Quinn’s shirt to stuff in their mouth. He tied it around their head.

“You’re gonna wanna bite onto that.” Hunter grinned and made his way to sit in front of Quinn’s face instead. He took a fistful of their hair and lifted it to meet each other’s eyes.

The raw desperation in Quinn’s eyes filled him with glee. “Damn, that’s why I love this. That look, right there.” He glanced up at his leader. “Sir, come look at this.” Hunter motioned Daniel over with his hand.

Daniel rolled his eyes and came around begrudgingly, crouching next to Hunter and looking at Quinn’s expression. “You see it now, yeah? You see why I love this shit?” Hunter laughed, tightening his grip on Quinn’s hair.

Daniel stared at Quinn’s expression for a while. He explored every crease, every glimmer in their eyes, every tear that fell. He had to admit it: it scratched an itch he didn’t even know he had.

“…I wanna try something else,” Hunter said, dropping Quinn’s head and breaking the silence. “You know how I’ve uh…borrowed…them some nights?” Hunter smirked at the pained whimper that came from Quinn’s form.

Daniel grimaced. “I’m aware,” he said skeptically, giving Hunter a testing look. “What are you getting at?”

Hunter reached down to rip the gag out of Quinn’s mouth. They coughed on their own saliva as their mouth was filled by Hunter’s fingers almost instantly.

“What do you say? Me in front, you in the back? Come on, I know you’ve at least used their mouth before. Why not go the extra mile? I know you’ve thought about it.” Hunter tried. He had a gleam in his eye that Daniel couldn’t quite read.

Daniel couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it. He just had self control, is all, as opposed to Hunter. But something about Quinn’s powerlessness, about how weak they were compared to him in that moment…it made that self control slip, just a little bit.

Daniel sighed, long and deep. He closed his eyes. “Let’s make this quick.”

Quinn’s stomach dropped to the floor as they realized what was about to happen. “No,” they whispered. “No, no no no, wait—” They choked on Hunter’s fingers as he lodged them back in again.

“You’re gonna wanna be good tonight, pretty boy,” Hunter whispered lowly into Quinn’s ear. “Because I’ve got this fun little thing here…” He picked up the knife again and trailed it threateningly across Quinn’s throat. “…If you even think about misbehaving.”

Quinn gagged and bit down on Hunter’s finger’s reflexively, causing Hunter to yelp and pull his hand away. He took the same hand and backhanded them with it, his expression turning even wilder. “Ohoho, you really want it, don’t you?”

Quinn needed to get the fuck out of there. That was the only thing running through their mind as they squirmed against the all-too strong grip of their abusers, too panicked to form a sentence.

They felt their pants being tugged down and that’s when their mind left them.

Quinn registered bits and pieces. Something filling their mouth and overwhelming their senses. The sensation of being torn open over and over again. The thin, hot slice of the knife across their throat when their teeth bit at the intrusion out of instinct.

The blood slowly dripping to the floor.

Everything was blurry after that. When they came to, Quinn could feel something rough around their throat, keeping something from coming out. Bandages, their mind told them fleetingly.

They could hear voices every now and again.

“You went too far, you dipshit! You almost killed my fucking runner!”

“They bit me! What the hell did you expect me to do?!”

“We’re not doing this again. They’ll be out of commission for two weeks, at most.”

“It’s fine. You have your other runners, right?”

“…Whatever. Whatever. Just get the fuck out.”

Quinn phased in and out of consciousness again and they were alone in the dark. The pain radiated everywhere in their body. It was all too much.

They let themselves sleep again, a tiny part of them hoping they wouldn’t wake up.

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