#is what I will keep telling myself until the stress headache goes away and the plans are solidified

[edwardian-sea-witch]

Am I tying myself into knots making travel plans just for their own sake? Am I ever going to use these credentials? Will the people I am going out of my way to visit want to see me? Am I spending almost everything I’m making on this job on a truly unhealthy number of Amtrak tickets?

The answers to all these questions and more, after the break(down).

[missmorosis]

sick manager :)

-> feat. sugawara and kuroo

part 1 with bokuto, oikawa, and tsukishima here!

genre: fluff!

synopsis: y/n, the manager of her school’s volleyball team, finds herself sick after days of hard  work, yet she still goes to school to support her team~ 

warnings: the reader is sick, and she passes out in kuroo’s scenario :))

pairings: sugawara x reader, kuroo x reader (separate!!)

total word count: 1.5k

a/n: OKAY SO HAHHSLKDFJ RIGHT WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I GOT SICK W/ A FEVER- I THINK I JINXED MYSELF OMG

i tried to make the scenario KINDA different, but with the same idea hehe

anYWAYS i’m so sorry if this makes like zero sense AHSLDKF- i wrote a lot while i was sick SO ill blame it on fever delusion if it flops 😌

OH AND THIS IS FOR @haikyuuheartsclub ty for reading the first one and asking for a part 2 hehe <33

You getting sick was inevitable.

You knew that you were bound to get sick with all of the work you had been doing and all of the late nights you spent preparing volleyball strategies, planning practice tournaments for your team, or studying until your eyesight blurred.

Being your school's volleyball team manager was not only hard, but it was ridiculously time consuming. Not to mention that you were bombarded with schoolwork, and you had exams coming up. Your stress levels had never been higher, and you were practically living off of caffeine with the amount of sleep you were always lacking.

So when you woke up with a sick feeling and the worst headache, you weren't completely surprised. Annoyed would have been a better word.

You knew that your team was getting ready for an important tournament, so you would have to stay extra long for practice. Groaning as you got ready, you weren't sure you could make it through the day.

You sluggishly pulled on a hoodie and brushed your teeth, taking note of how warm you felt as you washed your face. Grabbing a thermometer, you quickly measured your temperature.

100.4 Fahrenheit. Not too bad... just a low-grade fever. You tried to shrug it off and ignored how disgusting your body felt. You slung a backpack over your shoulder and walked out the door, heading to school.

You waited at the bus stop, shaking your head to try and make the sickness go away. When the bus arrived a while later, you plopped down onto the closest seat and you couldn’t stop your eyes from closing. You were just so... tired...

You drifted off to sleep, the soft sound of the bus driving across the road comforting you.

...

“Uh, Y/N?” Someone was shaking your side, and you immediately lifted your head from the bus window you were leaning on. It seemed like you just closed your eyes a second ago... where were you now?

"Mm?" you hummed sleepily, blinking slowly. You rubbed your eyes as the sunlight filtered through the window, and it made you feel warmer than you already felt.

"Hey, sorry to wake you, but we’re already at school." You looked outside, and he was right; you saw Karasuno in the near distance. 

Your brain processed the fact that Sugawara, a third year from Karasuno’s volleyball team, was sitting next to you. You saw his blurred figure lean next to you, and he brushed some hair out of your face. His fingers grazed against your forehead, but he quickly froze. 

"Y/N- Y/N! Why is your forehead so hot?" He studied your face with concerned eyes, noticing how tired you looked.

"Hm? No, it’s not. It wasn’t that high when I checked... probably the sunlight..." you mumbled, leaning on the back of your bus seat behind you. You put a hand on your forehead, and it confirmed that you were indeed burning up; it was considerably warmer than earlier in the morning. You groaned and got up.

"You don’t look too good, don't you think you should go home-" Sugawara started, but you interrupted him.

"No, you need your manager today, you guys have a game soon," you said, your tone tired but strict. Sugawara eyed you anxiously, but you waved him off. "I'll be fine," you reassured him. Grabbing your backpack, you got up from your seat, heading for the bus’ exit.

Woah.

You knew you were sick, but you didn't think you would be this dizzy. Everything seemed to sway to one side, and you put one arm on the seat of the bus, leaning on it for support. You rested your head on your arm, and you felt Sugawara’s arm wrapping around you for support.

“Alright, now you have no choice. You’re taking a break, whether you like it or not, clearly something’s not okay,” he told you, and you were too lightheaded to argue. You just nodded along and he helped you back into your seat. 

You clutched your head as you tried to make everything go away. Sugawara went to talk to the bus driver in the background, and miraculously, the driver made an exception for you.

“We’re ahead of schedule anyways,” the bus driver reasoned. He turned the bus around, heading back towards your house.

“Okay, now that that’s done, you can sleep if you want to. You could probably use the rest, I can only imagine how tired you are...” Sugawara said softly, and you gave a small nod. You scooted further down into the seats, making enough space for the boy to sit next to you. He gladly obliged, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you drifting off to sleep. Your head subconsciously drifted onto his shoulder, but he didn’t mind.

“Hey, Koushi?” you mumbled, your voice coated with sleepiness.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing... I just wanted to thank you.” Your eyes remained closed, and Sugawara couldn’t tell if the blush on your face was from your fever... or something else? 

“You need to take breaks, you know. You work really hard, it’s a wonder you haven’t dropped dead yet,” he said, half jokingly. “Thank you.” You smiled, and finally fell asleep.

Kuroo found you in the classrooms; your head was down, and your headache was terrible. You were almost asleep; you were trying your best to stay awake, and you weren't sure how long you could keep it up.

He was walking down the halls, casually glancing into your classroom to see if you were finished, and he softly smiled at the sight of you.

"Tired, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, smirking as he tapped your shoulder.

"Hm?" You lifted your head up, surprised at the unexpected touch. "Oh- Kuroo, shut up," you replied, rolling your eyes as you stretched. He laughed and grabbed your backpack for you, slinging it over his own shoulder.

“Ready for practice?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, and the two of you walked to the gym.

Your head was killing you with every step you took, but you had no choice but to ignore it. You looked to the distance, trying to ease your headache. Kuroo’s voice was slowly melting into background noise. 

Suddenly you froze and stopped walking, earning a curious glance from Kuroo. You were forgetting something...

“Wait- where’s my... backpack?” You spotted it on the boy next to you, and you shook your head. “Sorry, forgot that you had it,” you said, with a sheepish laugh.

“Something wrong?” he frowned. “You’re acting distracted... more distracted than usual, anyways.” You shook your head, deciding to keep your sickness to yourself.

“I’m good, just tired,” you assured him. He nodded slowly, and walked into the gym, you following close behind.

Only you, Kuroo, and the coaches were in the gym; you were early. You flashed a quick smile as you waved hello.

"Great, you guys are early. I have a couple strategies to discuss," the coach said, gesturing to a whiteboard in front of him. The two of you nodded, and he began to explain.

"Alright... if we're going to win this next match..." he started, but you couldn't make yourself pay attention. The only thing on your mind was how your head wouldn't stop hurting, everything seemed to echo, and just overall how sick you felt.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction. You snapped out of your sleepy state at the sound of your name.

“Wha-” You blinked, looking around at all of the eyes on you. You tried to remember what the others were talking about... oh. Strategies. Right. "I just think we... we need to..." You looked at thr whiteboard, but you couldn't focus. You swayed to one side, blinking hard. The world really seemed like it was tilting to one side... "Woah, sorry-" you tried to say.

"Y/N?" You saw Kuroo reach out towards you as you slowly lowered down into a fetal position, resting your head on your knees. "Hey, Y/N? You okay?" You swallowed.

"Yea- yeah. Just... give me a second," you breathed. You felt Kuroo kneel down next to you, and you were right; someone's arm wrapped around you for support, and you knew it was Kuroo's. You knew you were safe as you lost consciousness, falling further into his arms.

...

You awoke, and the first thought was how bright the gym lights were... they weren't this bright before...

"Oh- Y/N! You're awake," Kuroo said, rushing over to you. He put the back of his hand on your forehead. "You're still burning..." he said with a frown.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I don't know, I've been sick all day and I guess I couldn’t handle it..."

"Why didn't you tell me you weren’t feeling well?" he asked, concern clear in his voice. You smiled softly.

"It wasn't important... besides I have manager duties to take care of," you said with a sigh.

"Not if I can help it." He picked you up in one swift motion bridal-style, smirking as you struggled to get down. "I'm not letting you down; I'm taking you home and getting you some proper medicine for this fever of yours. Health is more important than volleyball." You huffed and flopped into his arms in defeat.

"Fine." You leaned closer into Kuroo's chest, and he smiled, satisfied with your surrender.

"That's my girl." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile.

A/N: THESE WERE NOT THE BEST- I ADMIT BDHDDJNDJEW

hopefully these weren't too bad though-

haikyuu taglist: (send an ask to get added hehe) @floralkawa <3

MWAHH THANK YOU FOR READING!!

[maijobi]

back to you

dabi x reader

summary: when things don’t go well in your relationship, you find it best to end it... 

a/n: it has a good ending I promise. I did kinda hurt myself writing this I don't even know why. but sad dabi really does make me feel things.

———————————————————————

your hands were in your hair, doing your best to not pull every strand out of your scalp. your eyes were closed and you were doing your best to calm yourself down, counting down from ten.

“dabi, we have had this conversation for over a hundred times. you can’t control me. and why can’t you just trust me for once?”, you said, finally  opening your eyes and looking at dabi.

“fine”, he said clenching his jaw. “go. let all of those people see you. go. you know what, don’t come back tonight will you?”

“stop overreacting”, you said, breathing out heavily. “I'm sick and tired of you constantly telling me what to do. I'm your partner, not your child. I know my limits and I know what to look out for. and who are you to tell me to not come back tonight? this isn’t just your place. we live here with a bunch of losers, what makes you think you’re more special than them? what makes you think you overpower them? what makes you think you have more to say than us?”

he took a few steps closer to you and looked down at you with a wrinkled nose. “I just don’t like my partner going out where there are people that will look at them. I don’t like how you can’t keep your mouth shut around people and let them flirt with you. I can’t stand you going to places and not knowing your limit, when you claim you do.”

“just because I let people talk to me, doesn’t mean I'm letting them flirt with me?”, you confusedly said. “oh I apologize dabi. I apologize that I do not prefer to burn people to the ground when they give you a genuine smile. I apologize that I couldn’t become as great as you”, you sarcastically said while throwing your hands in the air and then dropping them. “do you hear how stupid you sound? we have this discussion almost every day, but I can’t seem to get some senses into you. I'm tired of this, dabi. I'm tired of having to explain myself every day when I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I can’t talk to anyone before I have you breathing against my neck telling me to stay away from that person.”

“sweetheart, dollface, sugar”, he said with gritted teeth, taking steps closer to you and holding on of your hand and placing it over his heart. “don’t make this harder for the both of us and just don’t go outside will you?”

you pulled your arm away from his grip. “not this time dabi. I'm sick of this. sick of you wanting to control everything I do. you wanting to have a dominant role in this relationship. why is that even needed? why can’t you treat me as an equal? can’t you for once just let me live? I'm tired, I'm tired of telling myself that you’ll change when you don’t”, you said, finally showing the frustration on your face. 

“and you think I'm having fun?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “you think I enjoy seeing you having fun with someone else? it hurts you just as much as it does me doll”, he said, raising his voice. “it’s also hard for me to see you flirting back with other people! know your fucking limits”, he said placing his hand on your chin and pulling it up slightly.

“don’t act like you are right here”, you sat, pulling your chin away from his grip and taking a step back. “for once. for fucking once accept that you can’t control everything I do and that you can’t overpower me. respect goes both ways, but I'm not seeing any on your accord.”

“now you’re just talking bullshit”, he said in a loud voice, laughing to shake off his frustration. “what does this even mean?! what is it that you’re trying to accomplish here? what is it that you so desperately want, huh? attention from someone else? if you’re not even gonna listen to my feelings, how am I supposed to take yours in account? you only do as you please and where does that bring us, huh?! where the fuck-!”

“that maybe perhaps we’re not meant for each other”, you interrupted him. “that maybe we’re just not fit for each other.”

his face dropped and you saw every emotion pass on his face. he was confused. he was confused as to the words you had just dared to speak, something he didn’t even think about once. to him this was normal, to him this was behavior that should be present in a relationship. to him, fighting everyday seemed normal. but his motives for this relationship seemed to be totally different from yours.

“you must be kidding no”, you said with a distressed smile. “h-how can you just easily say something like that?”

“because you made sure I did. if you just for once tried to understand me, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”

he walked closer to you and held your shouders. “you’re kidding right?”

“i’m not, dabi. I'm being very much serious right now. how can I continue this when my feelings are being invalidated on a daily basis? how am I supposed to respect you further when you literally treat me like your pet?”, you said a brushing off his grip on your shoulder. “I can’t do this when all of this only brings me anxiety and constant stress?”

he looked at you, lost in another world progressing what you had just said. it surely couldn’t have been true, you were joking right? but the expression on your face made him his eyes go larger and his mouth almost hung open. “y-you can’t be serious”, he said with a smile, but that soon dropped when he shook your head.

“i’m not”, you said turning around and walking to the door.

you didn’t turn around to look back at him, and he made no attempt to stop you. perhaps he hadn’t even believe that you actually left. or maybe he was just waiting for you to finally leave him. maybe this was for the better you thought, but for dabi this was a whole different experience. 

he was convinced you were coming back that night, he convinced himself that you would. so when you didn’t he totally lost it. the person that barely texted you had spammed you with messages and missed calls, leaving behind various emotions. he didn't know what he was feeling. this was all new to him.

dollface, you’re not serious right?

you’re coming back tonight right?

I'm sure you are...

you didn’t take me seriously, did you?

please come back.

please look at your messages.

it’s past midnight, please come back.

don’t scare me like this. just come back already. 

please...

you looked at your phone, tapping the corners or your phone. you decided to not answer, but that left you in a weird state of mind. you didn’t know what you were feeling. were you happy? sad? relieved? more stressed? you didn’t even know. you felt numb. 

you found your way to an old friend, asking if you could stay over until you figured out what you would do to survive. you locked your phone and threw it next to you on the bed. you allowed yourself to fall with your back on the mattress. you’d feel better in the morning, is what you tried to convince yourself. but would you really?

you woke up with a heavy headache. it was hard to even sit upright. but when you opened your eyes it was still dark. there was heavy rain outside and falling back asleep seemed like an impossible thing right now. 

you tapped on your phone letting it light up. 

3 a.m.

you sighed. what were you gonna do now? you felt too stressed to even close an eye. you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. you loved him and he probably loved you too, but this couldn’t go on forever.

you looked at your screen again, not missing all the messages he had left behind.

please I know I fucked up, but please just come back.

you can’t be doing this.

and many more messages like that had filled your phone. you frustratingly brushed your hand through your hair and sighed loudly. it felt wrong. it felt wrong to have left like that in the middle of an argument. but at the same time this had happened so many times that you couldn’t just do nothing. 

you rose from your bed, still not answering any of his messages. your phone rung every five minutes, but you just didn’t pick it up. you walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water only to leave it on the counter after seeing his new messages.

I really need you.

I don’t need anybody else.

just you. so please, please come back.

you blinked once, then twice and then many more times. dabi had really said he needed you. the independent guy, who would refuse help from anyone had said he needed you. you weren’t sure what to do. you paced around the kitchen, biting down on your nail. your phone made a sound again.

I just really... can’t live without you.

you sighed loudly and with a quick steps you walked to the door. you put on your shoes and ran out the door taking the keys with you. the rain splashed on your skin, clothes and hair, making you soaked in an instant as you ran down the street. but you didn’t care. the only thing that ran through your head was wanting to see dabi. wanting to see him share his feelings and wanting to see him need you. 

even the bad memories had a good ending for you. every time you fought, you’d fix it together. so why couldn’t that be done now? why did you have to act so selfishly again? you knew you were partially right, but at the same time you knew this wasn’t right. all your memories with him flooded in your mind and it made you run faster.

your feet dragged you to the place you had thought he was, because you knew he wouldn’t be at the residence. he would be at the place that caused his trauma, but at the same time was his most visited place. 

the forest were he had supposedly died. the forest where his dad had refused to come to. the forest with his last memories of home.

you stopped in track when you saw his figure. his back facing you and his head looking up. he was wearing a front zip hoodie with the cap over his head. allowing the droplets to hit his face. he had heard something so he turned around.

when he saw you standing there in the rain he took one step and reached out his hand, but stopped when you only stared at him. you were out of breath, breathing in and out heavily as your chest heaved. 

you looked at him, seeing the sad expression on his face. you shook your head and started walking, but before you knew it you were running to him. you ran and when you reached him, you threw yourself on him, holding him like you never did before.

he was in shock, not being able to do anything, just allowing you to slowly pull him down for the hug. when you pulled away you held his face and searched it, but before he could say anything you crashed your lips against his, tasting the rain on them. it was still pouring and this might have been the closest thing to an actual romantic scene the two of you had. 

your lips danced together and you melt in each others touch. he finally allowed himself to be embraced and snaked his arms around your back to deepen the kiss. he pushed you against him and moved his hands to your neck to pull you closer. your hands slid down and rested on his chest.

when he pulled away he looked you in your eyes. water droplets were falling on your face and he made an attempt to wipe them away though the rain hadn't stopped. you wanted to say something, but he shut you up by pulling you in once more and giving you a small, but soft kiss.

“i’m sorry”, he said, pulling you flush against him to hug you. “I'm sorry for always wanting to control you. I was just scared.”

you slid your arm around his waist and hugged him back. “scared of what?”

“of you leaving”, he whispered just loud enough to hear above the splashing raindrops. “I haven’t been open about my feelings. I just didn’t know how to. but I was raised with the thought of rejection and people leaving me behind. I wasn’t used to all of this. I wasn’t used to having all this affection, so I was scared you’d leave just like the rest.”

you tightened your grip on him. “I don’t have a reason to leave. I just need you to be open with me like just now. so we can work things out together”, you said, looking up so that you were facing him.

he looked down and a soft smile formed on his face. he kissed you again and again and again until completely devouring your lips on his, not giving you a chance to pull away. but that wasn’t needed. you had understood the whole situation and the both of you were able to figure it out together. many ways had opened for the two of you and the both of you have yet to learn so much about each other. but you were both willing to change yourself for each other. because even if things weren't always great, the two of you would find their ways back to each other. 

[lubdubsworld]

Change of Heart ( Taehyungx OC)

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3     Chapter 4     Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Warnings : story gets a little serious from now on out... there's a lot of sexism, misogyny, degradation of women , and well morally untoward actions by people ......the oc gets roped into something exploitative and wrong. She is consenting but she's also pressured. So , please remember that this is just fiction.

Chapter 8

“Rae, calm down... i didn’t mean i want you to  leave right now..” Taehyung gripped both my wrists with his hands , tugging me away from my things . When I didn’t move, he gave me a gentle nudge toward to bed, prompting me to sit down.

“You’re just-” I began angrily but he cut me off. 

“Just sit down for a second and we can talk about this.” He begged, grip gentle as he held my hands . I tried to pull my hands away but he merely linked our fingers together, squeezing gently. 

I glared at him but sat down nonetheless. He stared down at me for a second before carefully, kneeling down in front of me.

My throat went dry at that. I doubted Kim Taehyung had ever kneeled , anywhere, in his entire life. 

“I’m sorry, Rae. “ He whispered, thumb tracing circles on the back of my palm. “ I was out of line talking to you like that. I would like to think, after everything we’ve been through, we’re at least friends.”

 Someone put me out of my misery,  I closed my eyes in dejection. 

“Please don’t give me a , ‘ we’re better off as friends’ speech... Please, I absolutely cannot handle that from you right now.” I whispered. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that I was out of my head when I came here just now, things were going south in the office and I was stressed out.... I swear I didn’t come here intending to talk to you about Eun Woo..... I came here to check up on you.....I just, I saw you with Jungkook and then you told me you were going to leave with him and I panicked and told you about Eun Woo. I’m sorry and I know I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. Not now, when you’re clearly still hurting.” 

I stared at him.

“You know just the right things to say, don’t you?” I shook my head.

Taehyung made a noise of impatience, scooting forward on his knees and his hands dropping to grip my waist through the thick towel wrapped around me. Suddenly aware of being just in my towel, I stopped breathing when he pressed closer, kissing the edge of my jaw. 

“I wasn’t trying to manipulate you into sleeping with me. Trust me...when I was talking to Seokjin about not wanting to mate you... I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you because I wasn’t attracted to you....I meant that I didn’t want to forcefully bring you into a world that is going to be cruel to you.” 

“I don’t know if I can believe anything you tell me anymore.” I said softly and his arms came around me, tugging me closer till he pressed his face into the curve of my breasts. 

“I’m not just anybody, Rae....You know that. Being with me isn’t the same as being anyone on the street. I.. I’m a public figure. Someone who has made his disdain for humans pretty clear.... “ He pulled back to stare at me.  He looked devastated and I felt my heart lurch treacherously again . He pressed another kiss, this time to my lips, before drawing back. 

“I know I hurt you.....but my cause is bigger than me, than anything I could want or desire. There are people out there...my people... people who have spent hundreds of years being punished for something they can’t control. And until , I o my part , until I use my wealth and power to bring some change in their lives, I don’t belong to myself.” He looked haggard , pressing his palms to his face, rubbing the exhaustion out of his eyes and I couldn’t harden my heart against the pang of sympathy that bloomed inside me. 

“I’ve never asked you to give up on your cause. Isn’t that the whole reason i came with you last night?” I reminded him and he nodded.

“Yes...and look how that left you. “ He shook his head, “ I wasn’t even rough , Rae. I felt like a bull in a fucking china shop, touching you. So scared of breaking something, so fucking terrified I was going to hurt you ....It drove me fucking crazy...”

I stared at him in disbelief , reaching out and cupping his cheeks, forcing him to stare at me. .

“ Stop that. You did not hurt me. I’m not as fragile as you think... You’re hardly the first alpha wolf I’ve had sex with...” I said sharply and he groaned. 

“I know... Fuck, I know that... It’s just....My instincts get so jumbled with you. I want to make love to you, to make you feel good …But I also want to protect you and keep you safe and it feels like i can’t do both...” 

“You and I...we aren’t that different. What feels good for you feels good for me too...” I protested. 

Taehyung gave me a helpless look. 

“I was raised this way. I haven’t ever seen my friends and family treat humans with anything but wariness and fear. My family ..... My father and mother, they ....” He hesitated. “ They turned a five year old human child, because she was dying. She was dying and her mother begged them to save their daughter. My dad gave her the bite ..... The girl survived and she was a wolf, yes but she lived. Do you know what your kind did? They said what he did was illegal , and they put my dad on trial and sent my parents to prison for it. “

I stared at him, wide eyed. 

“My parents didn’t last a month. They died in a fucking dungeon because humans think its better for a five year old girl to die than be one of us. I lost my parents when I was eight years old because humans cannot fathom the idea of someone being different.....” 

“Taehyung, I am so sorry... i didn’t know..... “ I said quietly.

“I’m not saying that has anything to do with you. I’m not ignorant enough to blame every human I meet for something that happened a whole two decades ago. I know things have changed....that the world today is vastly different from how it was back then... but can you imagine what would happen if I started this thing with you? “ He sighed, shaking his head.

“Taehyung, what are you saying?” I asked , too tired to process what he was saying.   I could feel a headache coming on, strong and almost debilitating in its intensity .                                                                                                             

“ I  like you.... I would love to get to know you better.... Watching you with my daughter...fuck... I’ve never seen her so happy..... I would like nothing more than to give her a family.... but the people I live with. The friends I meet for dinners, the guys I hang out with for drinks....they don’t trust humans. They’re powerful men who have seen first hand how cruel humans can be and they’re not going to give up years of conditioning, just because my wolf chose to imprint on a human.”

I stared at him, not even sure what to say. 

“Taehyung, I haven’t hidden how I feel about you. I’m not ignorant about what its like between your kind and mine. I live in the preserve. You think I don’t know what it’s like to be a human in a community of werwolves? I know how people look at me, how they see humans in general. If we did this....I would never blame  you  for the way others treat me.” I told him, heart breaking because he had clearly  thought  about this. Thought about this enough for him to feel bad about the mere possibility of me being hurt. 

Taehyung shook his head in protest. 

“How do you think I would feel, if I had to watch my friends treat you with anything but respect? It would drive me insane. And if you think the werewolves in the preserve are cruel to humans, you don’t even know how bad the upper class weres are... They don’t see human women as anything but a sick fetish for them to indulge themselves in. I’m not going to bring you into a world like that.....” He gave me look that was steady and unyielding, his tone brooking no argument. 

I sighed.

“Okay. “ I said softly.

He stared at me. 

“Do you hate me?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I think we can safely establish that I am incapable of hating you.” I said tiredly.

He smiled. I hesitated just a bit, before reaching out to touch his shoulders. I curled my fingers a bit, tugging him closer for a hug and he indulged me, palms stroking my back as I breathed in the alluring scent of him. 

“ When this is over.... “ Taehyung said softly, “ I hope you and i could get dinner together. I want you in my life... even if just as a friend.”

 Isn’t that just the perfect recipe for disaster,  I thought miserably. 

“I’m not going to be your friend, Kim Taehyung ssi.... I don’t hate myself that much.” I pressed a kiss to his ear. 

He hesitated. 

“What do you want to be then?” He whispered.

I shrugged, pulling back to stare at him. 

There really was no point talking in circles, was there? 

“The woman you love.” I said , holding his gaze steadily. 

His lips parted, clearly unprepared for my bluntness. 

To spare him the embarrassment of replying, I went on. 

“But i know that’s not in the cards...so i would rather we be passing acquaintances.” I shrugged. 

Taehyung gripped my knees, squeezing. 

“I’ve not been with a woman in years. My wife, “ He grimaced , a flash of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, “ She... I didn’t even like her let alone care for her. I’ve forgotten what It means to love a woman...to worry about how my actions affect her...to act in a way that makes her feel how much I care for her.....”

I bit my lips, not sure what he was implying or  if  he was even implying anything. 

" Well then,   once my dad goes to prison... You can go back to that blissful time in your life when you didn’t know that I existed. .” 

I grabbed my clothes off the bed and made to move to the bathroom 

.“Rae.... wait.” 

I stopped,  staring at him. 

I felt his fingers on my wrist, tugging me gently and I watched the way his fingers looked, so large and warm over mine. 

I could feel him staring at me but .I stayed quiet. 

There really was nothing more for me to say to him. 

“I’ve forgotten how to love a woman but...” He bit his lips.” It doesn’t mean I can’t learn again.”

I choked out a laugh. God, I hated him. 

“Don’t you dare-”

“When this is over.” He continued firmly, “ When your father is in prison, I’m not going to walk away. I don’t understand humans, I don’t relate to your kind....I can’t feel the things you do but I can learn. I can and I will. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least i can do for you. ”

I shook my head. 

“ Do it for yourself. Do it to be a better person. Because sometimes the greater good isn’t enough to justify hurting people who are on your side of the battlefield. “ 

He lowered his head and I pulled away gently, moving away to get dressed, 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is he going to come pick me up? “ I asked casually, swallowing down another couple of pills. I wasn’t even in a lot of pain anymore. More a pleasant soreness all over . 

Taehyung exhaled, nodding.

“He’s ...a good guy but I still want you to tell me if he tries something....”

I turned to stare at him, eyebrows raised. 

“And what will you do? Antagonize the man who’s your only hope to bring my father down? Don’t be absurd Taehyung.. i can handle men like Eun Woo.” I turned back to the mirror. 

 I ran the brush through my hair, carefully examining my face for any stray marks or bruises. It had taken a bit of time an an extra layer of concealer but i looked relatively unmarred. 

“I just want to make sure you’re safe and-” 

“I can take care of myself.... I’m a big girl.” I smiled at him through the reflection in the mirror. . 

Although, just the fact that I was here, having this conversation with him was a fine example of how  bad  I was at taking care of myself. How I had a knack for making the worst possible choices, the kind of choices that ended with me with my heart broken over and over again because of the same damn man.  

God, I wanted to get out of this apartment. Wanted to get away from Kim Taehyung. Never wanted to see his gorgeous face again. 

“Eun Woo knows you’re my mate... He won’t....” 

My eyes snapped up to him.  

Just hearing that word made something leap inside me, something sharp and hurtful. Something that felt unbearable, an emotion that made me pulse with regret and pain and filled me with a need to sob out loud. 

i turned around and his eyes immediately flitted to mine. I knew they were a little damp. 

“Can you just...not call me that?  “ I whispered , my fingers beginning to tremble. 

Taehyung froze, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Rae...”

i closed my eyes , breathing deeply. I’d never felt so frustrated, so desperate to end things with someone and yet so incapable of doing just that  and i hated him, hated him for turning me into something so pathetic.

“Don’t call me your mate. That is not what I am and that is not how you see me. So just don’t. “ 

I tried to calm myself down. 

Taehyung didn’t reply so I went on. 

“I’m going to do this...not just for you , but for the people in that preserve. For Luna because I want her to grow up in a world where she has the chance to experience the same happiness that the rest of us do. “

“Yes, And I’m grateful..” Taehyung began but i held my hand up. 

“I’m going to do this but I’m not going to give you more than what I absolutely have to. I’m not going to let you play the besotted lover when we both know there’s no future for us that way. I need to protect my heart and I can’t do that if you keep confusing me. And that means you talk to me like you would talk to any of your friends.  ”

Taehyung just stared at me for a second before nodding sharply.

“Point taken.” He said gruffly , looking just a little annoyed.. 

 Good, I thought viciously. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re gonna have to get you more clothes like this, if we’re going to be together for real... ... You know the kind of life I lead...” Eun Woo commented mildly, shooting me a glance as he maneuvered the car out into traffic. He was pointing at the teal blue sheath dress I had on.  

It was pretty, spaghetti straps holding up the satiny material and molding to my body like a second skin. Taehyung had rented it out for me, and it had given me some satisfaction, watching him go slack jawed when I put it on. I was half tempted to tell him that I had won a lot of beauty pageants at my dad’s Country Club , back when I had still lived with him as a teenager. 

Over the years, I’d always dressed down, avoided make up and just not bothered too much. not because I didn’t enjoy dressing up but because it served no purpose. . Running up and down the ferry meant a lot of salty air on my hair and face and so, I had probably always looked like a drowned rat to Taehyung. 

“I have a whole closet full of branded clothes at my brother’s apartment. You don’t have to worry about me embarrassing you in public. I grew up as Jae hyun’s daughter .I know how the bougie class dresses, so please, just drive .” I was so tired, my eyes swollen although I hadn’t even cried. My heart felt like it had been wrung out . 

Eun Woo whistled.

“So you’re.... technically rich. Very rich.” There was a hint of interest there, laced with barely concerned excitement and it made my skin crawl.

I rolled my eyes. 

“I’m rich if i do exactly what my father asks me to. Which I won’t.”

Eun Woo chuckled. 

“So...this thing with Taehyung...it’s nothing huh? I mean, he’s clearly okay with you doing stuff with me.....” 

I glared at him.

“The only thing we’re going to be doing is finding out what my father’s upto.” 

He held both his hands up .

“Hey, I’m just wondering if he’ll tear my throat off if I shoot my shot.” 

I sighed, too exhausted to even entertain this conversation. 

“Don’t make this difficult.” I said tiredly and he grunted.

“He did a number on you last night, huh?” the lecherous glance he tossed my way was nauseating. 

I didn’t reply.

“Thought you were used to werewolves though...could smell that wolf on you...in the preserve.,.. Jungkook was it?”

I closed my eyes . 

Eun Woo looked handsome and elegant in his pin striped white suit and perfectly polished shoes but there was no mistaking the sheer unadulterated lust on his face when he looked at me. And the way he talked to me, like I was a hooker he had hired for the night. I suddenly understood what Taehyung had meant, when he said that wolves only looked at human women as a fetish. 

I glanced at my phone. It was a little past five. My father generally spent his evenings in his Yacht club, lounging about with his friends and scantily clad women. Eun Woo was a member too and the idea was to casually run into my father there. 

“I’m just saying...you have a thing for wolves...I’ll be more than willing to scratch that itch for you....” He was leering now and I willed myself not to scream when his fingers reached out, lightly stroking my cheek. I pulled away, bile rising in my throat. 

Feeling cheap and dirty, I dug my fingers into my thighs. 

“Thank you for the kind offer. I’ll let you know if I ever want to take you up on that.” I muttered. 

I watched as he pulled into the Yacht Club.

The Marina Yacht club was my father’s castle. It was where he held court thrice a week, all his rich and powerful bosom buddies flooding the place to get and stay in his good graces. 

Wine, Women, drugs and alcohol all topped with a healthy dose of anonymity and discretion. I stepped out into the lobby, surprised when a man called out my name.

“Mi Rae?? Is that you?” 

I felt my eyes widen when I recognized my dad’s old butler. 

“Mr. Gwan... Oh, I didn’t know you worked here?” I smiled despite myself, happily letting his wrap his hands around me in a warm hug. 

“Your father has been so kind to me.... He misses you.” The old man said softly.

I managed to return the gesture, bowing lightly.

“Is he here?”

“Out on the back terrace. A lot of his friends are here today.... Would you like to meet him?”

I nodded.

“Certainly. Could you tell him I’m here with ... Mr. Cha Eun Woo?” I smiled and looped my arm around Eun Woo’s , the latter pulling out his membership card and handing it over to Mr. Gwan with a winning smile. 

Mr Gwan bowed, leading us into the foyer which was milling with Seoul’s elite, men in polo t shirts and fitted pants and women in short summer dresses or flowery jumpsuits with huge hats. The crème de la crème of society, I thought , rolling my eyes internally. 

“Stop looking like that, doll. “ Eun Woo’s lips brushed my ear and I straightened my features, pasting a small smile as we followed Mr. Gwan, past the milling crowd and to the back, where the club opened into a beautiful terrace with a pool and a dance floor. 

Women in skimpy bikinis' lounged around the pool despite the lateness of the hour  and I saw my father, surrounded by four or five men, relaxing in the lounge chairs near the pool. They were all old and fat, my father standing out because he was always particular about staying fit and looking ten whole years younger. 

He looked surprised when he saw me, surprised but clearly pleased.

“Mirae..... And Eun Woo? What an absolute pleasure.” He stood p quickly, eyes glinting with delight when he took in my attire. 

“Good evening father.” I smiled, letting him pull me into a hug. My father turned to the men around, all of whom made no attempt to hide the way they were ogling me. 

“Gentlemen, my beautiful daughter, Mirae. And the man she’s seeing currently, I believe you’re all familiar with him. One of the finest men in the country. ” 

I tilted my head in acknowledgement, bowing lightly while Eun Woo shook hands with the men. 

“Cha Eun Woo at your service.” He drawled easily, holding a couple of fingers up and signalling a waiter to bring a couple more chairs for us. I smiled as he gave me a soft kiss on my cheeks.

“Why don’t we head over to the bar and you can pick a drink, honey?” He said , smile dazzling in its intensity.

I fluttered my lashes for effect.

“I’d love that.” I said , letting him lead me away with a quick, “ Gentlemen, a moment.” 

“That’s Taehyung’s undersecretary . The rest of them i can’t recognize but they’re all wolves. Your father’s been particularly sneaky, i see....” He whispered thoughtfully , the moment we were out of hearing distance and I blinked.

“What?” 

“That guy in the blue trunks, he’s a part of Taehyung’s cabinet. I’m sure of it.”

The bartender tapped the counter to get our attention and I startled. 

I pointed vaguely at one of the drinks and turned back to Eun Woo.

“Really? Oh my God, do you think he’s been telling my father about Taehyung’s plans?” 

Eun Woo nodded.

“That would explain things.... “

“We should tell Taehyung , he needs to fire that guy...” i said desperately and Eun Woo shook his head.

“No... we need to find out what is it that these wolves wants from your father... They’re obviously feeding him information for a price. We need to know what, although I think i have a pretty good idea.” Eun Woo smirked.

“What?” I said, curious but he shook his head, lightly kissing the tip of my nose. 

“Its a wolf thing... I’m just going to go back and lay some groundwork. You wearing a bikini underneath that dress?”

I frowned.

“Yes? Why?”

“Go to the dressing room and take your dress off. Come back and sit on my lap yeah? “

I stared at him.

“This better have something to do with ...”

“Baby, we’re running low on time. Just do as I tell you and you can be back in your TaeTae oppa’s arms in no time.....” He drawled, squeezing my hips hard and I flinched. 

He was so annoying.

But I did as he said and when I walked back to the rest of them, I saw that he was sitting a little ways off from the rest of them but close to the man in the blue trunks. The crowd had left, the gate leading to the terrace was closed and my father was nowhere to be found. 

it was just Eun Woo and the four men and the four or five women still in the pool.. They all looked at me when I got near and Eun Woo stood up waving before sitting back down. 

“Ah...Rae... Come on over!” He waved and I walked over, feeling ridiculously exposed in the electric blue string tied bikini. 

I smiled at him, casually sitting down on his lap, and letting him wrap an arm around my torso. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, my jaw and then whispered against my ear.

“Let’s give them a show.” 

I blinked, confused and then he pulled me closer, tugging me around till I was straddling him. I gripped his shoulders at the obscene position we were in , but he looked incredibly serious as he gave me a slight nod. Smiling, I lightly rolled my hips , letting the crotch of my bikini trace a small circle against the front of his slacks. He had taken off his jacket and it wasn’t that hard to get into the mood. The idiot was beautiful after all. 

“needy little thing....” Eun Woo chuckled. “ Dated a couple of betas but it wasn’t enough for her...Right baby?” 

I gave him a shy little smile, watching the men out of the corner of eyes. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing but, i followed Eun Woo’s lead and moved when he tugged on my hips, buried my nose in his neck when his palms fluttered against my shoulder.

“Sometimes they need a knot.... can’t settle for anything less....” Eun Woo went on, laughing and i stiffened despite myself. He pinched my thigh lightly, a soft, ‘  focus’  hissed against my ear. 

I swallowed, staying still.

He lightly dipped one finger into the waistline of my bikini and i jumped. 

“There’s something exciting about fucking a human .... so helpless and fragile and yet so thirsty to get dicked down by an animal.” Eun Woo went on and the men chuckled. 

I tamped down on the urge to knee him in the crotch. 

The greater good. 

 the greater fucking good. I reminded myself. 

 i was going to strangle Kim Taehyung. 

 “ Knows when to keep her mouth shut too. It’s a rarity with human women...... Always yip tapping about shit. “ Eun Woo went on. 

“She looks amazing...” The man on the left said...

“She looks even better when I have her wrapped around my knot.” Eun Woo chuckled.

The air seemed to shift around me. 

“Uh...yeah?” One of the men said.

“Of course....gets off on it too... People watching...right baby..? I could make you take my knot, right here on this chair with all these people watching and you’d love it...wouldn’t you baby?” 

“Fuck, that would be so hot...” The man in the blue trunks whined next to me and it made my skin crawl. I couldn’t do this. Not even for Kim fucking Taehyung. 

I dug my nails into Eun Woo’s sides. I’d had enough. 

“I have a resort up the Han River.... Secluded and private. Mr Yoon told me you guys have some sort of deal to finish up? Why not schedule it at my place.... Dinner and a show” Eun Woo squeezed my thighs hard making me yelp, “ My treat.” 

The men whispered excitedly.

“That sounds good. The seventeenth of this month. We have a ... meeting with a few associates. We’d require a lot of privacy . “ 

Eun woo hummed.

“Done. And sweet Rae and I will be there to take care of the entertainment . Now if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I have a few more pressing engagements.”

He spanked my thigh and I sat up, slowly climbing off him. He wrapped his arm around my waist , and I looked anywhere but at the men, bowing awkwardly as I let him lead me away from the terrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ow...Ow... Ow.. What the fuck..stop!” Eun Woo grabbed my wrists stopping me from raining more punches on him. 

“That was so fucking embarrassing you fucking pervert!!” I hissed and he gripped my wrists harder, so hard that I winced.

“I know!!!  just calm the fuck down. At least we know when they’re meeting the damn dealers. And it’ll be on our turf. “ He said angrily. 

I glared at him.

“So what , the cops can just walk in and arrest them...??” I stared at him in disbelief. 

it seemed so easy. 

“If they’re caught with the drug, yeah.” Eun Woo shrugged, “ Taehyung already has plenty of evidence linking your father to the drug,....all he needs is the physical record of your father in contact with the dealers. And if your father’s there on seventeenth its going to be a walk in the park. All we need to do is...well... possibly fuck in front of them.” 

I felt my jaw drop.

“I am not fucking you... not even if the survival of the entire human race depended on it.” I hissed.

“Relax, babe... It doesn’t have to be all the way through... beta werewolves don’t have a knot so these bastards get turned on watching alphas knot a woman... that's all it is... We give them that and they’re gonna play right into our hands.....” Eun Woo shrugged. 

“That is so gross...” I fought the urge to retch. 

“ We also feed some sort of nonsense to that undersecretary of his.. maybe a false raid elsewhere so these idiots have their guard down. it’ll be easy. “ Eun Woo shrugged

I groaned.

But I had to admit that Taehyung was right. Cha Eun Woo was a smart bastard. 

“And that's the best way to do this? I need to... pretend to have sex with you...” I tasted bile in my throat.

Eun woo smiled.

“For the greater good , baby.” 

i groaned. 

I hated werewolves. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Shit’s about to go down in the next chapter !! lemme know what you guys thought :D 

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[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story Pt 19 - Sci Fi

The new part is here. I've struggled with this story a little bit recently, but I wanted to continue this, to share it with you.

Master Post linked here

Enjoy!

_________________________

“Bel…”

“BEL!”

The world around me was pitch black, empty except for voices I didn't recognize, shouting a name I couldn't remember. I blinked, trying to clear my vision without success.

“Hello?” My anxious shout faded into the nothingness around me.

“I have to do it, Bel. It’s how the story goes.” A blurry figure stood in front of me, his facial features unclear behind his blond hair, but his tone contained frustration and regret. “You know what happens to a world when the story is incomplete. Sacrifices have to made.”

“Who are you…?”

“That’s our fate, we just have to accept that.” He faded away into the darkness, leaving me alone again.

“Come back! Explain what you meant!” I screamed at the disappearing figure. “WHAT SACRIFICE? WHAT FATE?!”

"YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE."

“Are you lost?” A new voice spoke up, strange, yet completely and utterly familiar.

I spun around, but there was no one behind me. “I’m… I’m lost.”

“No matter where you go, who you become… I’ll find you, Bel. I promise.” The voice was a whisper in my ear. “Fate can’t tear us apart. I won’t let it. Even if I have to destroy fate itself.”

“But I can’t find you. I don’t remember who you are!” I was crying, my tears disappearing into the surrounding mist.

“I’ll find you.” The words were quieter, as if the owner of the voice was fading away.

“DON’T LEAVE ME!”

“I promise.”

“NOT AGAIN!”

"You must accept your fate."

"Bel..."

"You must.."

“…I promise…”

_________________________

“LIAM!”

I woke up, screaming a name that disappeared from my mind as soon as the sound as faded, tears and sweat staining my cheeks.

I curled up into a ball, my head resting on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

Who am I?

Finding no answers, I eventually steadied my nerves, getting up, showering and changing. I looked up at the clock on the wall, wincing as I realized that I was running late for class.

Great, now I’m going to miss breakfast, and I'm starving.

I put on my uniform jacket, lamenting silently my lack of time to fill my empty stomach. As I left my dorm, however, my eye caught something sitting on the floor right outside my door. It was a small plate with a peeled apple and a note with Alaira’s name on it.

I thought Alaira was supposed to be loner… This has to be a trap, right?

It had been several weeks since I woke up in this strange world. It couldn’t be more obvious that she didn’t have any true friends or allies. No one who would care enough to send breakfast, definitely.

Maybe it’s from whoever has been following me around?

Since the second day, I had noticed a shadowy presence following me at a distance. Whoever it was, they never attempted to try to speak to me, or interfere with me in ay way. But it was always nearby, always watching.

So now they’ve upgraded to leaving me food?

I picked up the apple, looking around, and scanned it with the personal computer on my wrist, which showed no drugs or other abnormalities.

Well… I am hungry, which outweighs the possible grim outcome of death by poison, I suppose.

Shrugging mentally, I took a bite. The taste was sweet. I sighed with satisfaction and took another bite. As I chewed, a thought occurred to me, confusing me all the more.

How did they know I like peeled apples?

As far as I could remember, Alaira had never liked apples. It was considered an ancient fruit, more of an oddity than a dietary staple. She had tried it once or twice and hadn’t been impressed.

But I liked it…

I liked apples a lot… but only peeled ones. It was something almost instinctive I had felt whenever I thought about the fruit. But… I hadn’t eaten any apples since I woke up as Alaira.

So how do they know? Does this sci fi story come with mind readers?

I took another bite, feeling confused.

_________________________

“Why the hatred for the apple peel?”

The young man seemed genuinely curious from his tone of voice as he handed me a freshly peeled fruit.

I shrugged, taking a bite. “You try living as a princess in a lower fantasy realm. I bit into a poisoned apple once and the inside was glowing green.” I shuddered. “Ever since then I can’t stand to bite into an apple with the peel still on.”

The man had already started peeling another fruit, and paused in his actions. “Did the prince have to kiss you to break the spell?”

“Why, are you jealous?” I grinned.

“N-no… I’m just asking.” His head hung down, as he seemed to stare intently into the apple in his hands.

I patted his head. “I took an antidote ahead of time. Didn’t fall asleep. Instead, I beat the crap out of the witch.”

He laughed at that. “Didn��t you get in trouble for changing things?”

“Of course. But it was so worth it.”

_________________________

I stared down at the partially eaten fruit in my hands, feeling overwhelmed at the memories surging through my mind.

I keep seeing these memories, but I can’t connect them to anything. What are these lower realms? Is that what I’m in right now? Who is this person I keep seeing?

I felt incomplete, a large part of my memories, my emotions, were missing. What was worse, I wasn’t even sure what was gone, what I should be sad about losing.

I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.

“Alaira.” A voice called out, stopping me in my tracks. Turning, I sighed with odd sense of disappointment at the person standing before me.

Who was I expecting?

I forced a grin and made a rude gesture. “Hey Chris, how awful to see you this morning! Terrible of you to stop by.” I checked my personal communicator and shrugged. “Fortunately for me, I’m running late and have no time for your nonsense. So we’ll save your annoying ranting and raving for a later date, okay?”

He ignored my words, stepping closer with an excited look. “Have you heard the news?”

“Even if I say yes, you’re still going to tell me, right?”

“Don’t pretend, it’s not fooling anyone!” He glared at me. “You’ve been hoping to trap me as your Connector since the match results came back!”

I sighed. “At this point, it’s not even funny anymore. What can I say that will possibly convince you that that is NOT the case?”

“You won’t be able to stop my dreams, Alaira! Next time I’m going to win!”

“Yes, you’re the absolute greatest.” I rolled my eyes. “I cry myself to sleep each night over the fact that we aren’t partners, and I will never feel anything in this life but anguish and despair… now can I go to class?”

He looked ever angrier at my sarcasm. “Just wait until the next match. You’ll see that I’m good enough to be a Guardian. Because I’ve got…”

“Okay, buddy. Sounds good.” I interrupted, walking away.

“Wait, you didn’t finish listening…”

“Yep. See you next match.”

I left him behind, ignoring his rage induced sputtering.

Met an idiot first thing... but hey, at least I'm not hungry anymore!

_________________________

A few days later, the next round of mock Mech battles began.

As the winner of the prior fight, I was slated to go first, completing the first four battles with relative ease. As the day wore on, however, the drain on my body from using the Mech was increasing exponentially. Fortunately I was on my last scheduled fight of the day… even if this was the hardest so far.

A light headache was throbbing at my temples as I scanned the field around me. The arena stood as a large stadium, featuring a high-class barrier shield that extended up to twenty stories in the air. Hundreds of seats surrounded the fighting field, all equipped with holo screens that played the footage taken by the referee bots floating around the fight.

The excited screams from the audience were slightly muffled by the protective screen, and the remaining noise was filtered out as I focused on the fight ahead of me.

My opponent this time was a third year A level Guardian, an experienced fighter, who fought along side a D level Connector. Alaira had faced off with them multiple times in the past, and she had always struggled to win despite the difference in strength of abilities.

There was no denying the advantage that a Connector brought to the fight.

I grinned, ignoring the draining sensation of operating my Mech, the headache and weakness that quickly came on each time I made the Connection. The pain was severe, like a knife stabbing through my eye, but I forced myself to ignore it. As I fought, I couldn’t help but feel bitter.

It’s not like I haven’t been looking for a Connector.

Each day I went to the Matching Center. Each day I endured the laughter, the stares, the whispers and pointing. Each day I was faced with the same words: “No match available.”

Do I need to come up with a different plan? But I can’t fight the Hive without a Mech, and I can’t operate a Mech without a Connector… unless I want to slowly destroy my mind like Alaira did.

I sighed, not seeing any easy answers, and focused on the fight ahead of me. Although I had Alaira’s memories, and operating the Mech came as almost second nature with my S level alpha waves, I had run into an unexpected obstacle:

Alaira’s weapon of choice had been dual wielding energy pistols.

What a waste of the cool looking sword on my back. My physical body was suspended in the Connection chamber, a shielded globe filled with suspension gel. Although the Mech was controlled through alpha brain waves and the Connection, the closer I was to the Mech, the easier that control was. Thus the space for the Guardian was always in the center of the Mech.

I wore helmeted mask monitoring my vitals such as oxygen saturation and heart rate, adjusting the air composition and breath volume to accommodate my body’s stress reaction during battle. A skintight silver suit covered me, interacting with the gel to provide me physical feedback that the Mech would feel. My vision was shared with my Mech’s video system; I looked down and saw the pistols resting in the robotic hands. It was strange, I was obviously inside the robot, but the sensation of the ground beneath my feet, the guns in my hands, was all too real.

The physical sensation made it easier to fight, but it had an obvious drawback, which was that I felt any blows that my Mech sustained. During the fight I was the Mech, and it was a part of me. I tightened my grip around the energy weapons, feeling tired.

Something felt off about using these as my weapons.

I still had no memories about my past, but as I had practiced with the Mech these past few weeks, I had noticed a familiarity with fighting and battles, even more than what Alaira had in my memories after a lifetime of training at home with her father and then in the academy.

Am I some kind of warrior or something?

It didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t explain the comfortable sensation of judging my opponent and fighting with them. But that comfort and familiarity did not extend to dual wielding pistols.

I just wasn’t a great shot.

We had already been fighting for ten minutes. My headache had worsened and I felt tired, but I had only managed to score a few hits on non-vital areas. The only benefit was that the opposing Mech had only been able to strike me twice with the energy-enhanced spear he carried.

“You seem a little off today, Alaira, everything all right?” My opponent’s voice came over his speaker, shocking me. It was technically considered bad etiquette to talk during battle, but it was hard to fault him, as he seemed genuinely concerned about my less than ideal fighting state.

I shook my head, raising my pistols once more. “I’m fine, let’s continue.”

I rushed forward, taking advantage of my superior speed and maneuverability to get closer, trying to make it harder to miss my shots. The opposing Mech jumped backwards, but it was too late. Its hand was within my grasp. Turning and using its significant weight to my advantage, I flipped the robot over my own’s shoulder put the barrel of my gun against the metal head.

My final shot through its temple destroyed the key mechanisms within it, rendering it immobile and finishing the fight.

That was too close… I’ve been practicing with the pistols since I’ve woken up in this strange world, and seen no improvement… what am I doing wrong?

As the referee called out my victory, I backed away, letting out a sigh of relief. It had been a harder fight than it should have been, but at least it was over.

I need a nap.

“I WANT TO CHALLENGE ALAIRA!”

An extremely annoying voice spoke up, causing my already bad headache to worsen.

... Why me?

I turned towards the speaker. “Chris. Didn’t we agree that we were going to avoid each other? … Or was that just my wishful thinking?”

His all white Mech landed in front of my own, holding a large, oversized sword. He swung it back and forth, and although I couldn’t see his facial expressions, the smug tone of his voice through the Mech’s speakers were enough to make me wish I could make my Mech roll its eyes.

“Surely the legendary S level Guardian Alaira isn’t SCARED to fight with a mere D level Guardian such as myself, right?”

“Guardian Chris, please retract your challenge. Guardian Alaira has already finished five consecutive mock battles, and needs time to recover.” The instructor’s face was stern on the holographic screens around us, leaving no room for disagreement.

Chris laughed mockingly. “Oh, I thought she said that even with all the advantages and luck she could still beat me? I guess it was just empty arrogance.” His Mech shook its head. “With such a weak personality, no wonder you can’t find a Connector to match you. Who would want to endure such a woman?”

“…”

CLANG!

My Mech’s foot connected with the other’s crotch, and I heard a high-pitched squeal of pain. Ha, shared sensation with the Mech comes in handy sometimes.

“How dare you?!” His pained shout made me grin.

“Less talking, more fighting. I accept your challenge, Chris.” I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of my head splitting apart, as well as the light ringing in my ears. I had reached the limit of how long I could safely operate the Mech.

But the sound of his smug satisfaction infuriated me.

Every night, I was haunted by nightmares. Sometimes it was fragments of memories of unfamiliar worlds and people. Most nights, however, I dreamt of Alaira’s end. Alone, broken, terrified, a horrific death for a lonely girl.

And this idiot had watched it happen.

It might not be smart, but I just really want to beat him up. I took a stance, brandishing the pistols, feeling off kilter once more at the light weight in both of my hands.

In the meantime Chris had recovered from his inconvenience, and had resumed his taunting. “Oh, yeah, you ran away so fast the other day, I never got to share with you the good news:” He paused for what I assumed was dramatic effect. “I matched with a Connector earlier last week.”

He obviously meant this to be a huge blow to me, but Alaira’s memories had already warned me this would happen. A beautiful young woman, one of the many who competed for Chis’s affection. This one is a princess… Ilene, I think?

Unbidden, my mind was filled with the thought of the serious, quiet Prince William. I hadn’t seen him since that first day in front of the matching center. So he would be her brother?

I felt a moment of concern at his absence, and then confused, I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I had no reason to see him. Why would I worry about a stranger? Shrugging, I waved casually to Chris’s Mech.

“I welcome the princess to the battle. Sorry you’re on the losing team!”

“…”

There was a moment of shocked silence. “You already know?!”

I winced at Chris’s ear piercing shriek. “Know and don’t care.”

“But… I have a Connector.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“So I won’t be YOUR Connector!”

I sighed. “We’ve long established that. Look, buddy, it’s been a long day and I’m really tired, are you gonna keep talking about your boring personal life, or are we gonna try to crush each other with massive robots?”

“... Fine then! Keep pretending you don’t care!” Chris seemed really upset at not eliciting a bigger reaction from me, but fortunately turned his attention to the battle as well.

As the hologram around us signaled the start to the fight, he raised his sword and moved towards me, but I had already moved behind him.

BAM!

A shot hit his shoulder, blowing large metallic pieces into the air. I frowned, frustrated. I was faster and stronger than him, but my shots just weren’t going where I wanted them to.

Chris ‘s Mech turned around to face, me, the oversized sword’s momentum swaying the robot from side to side. His movement accuracy and speed had tripled from our last encounter. Clearly, he and his Connector were well matched, well over the required 50%.

But I was still faster.

I ducked under his blow, aiming upwards at his elbow and firing another couple shots.

BAM! BAM!

I missed. Cursing, I recovered, dodging another blow as I increased the distance between us.

Stupid guns.

_________________________

A young man threw up his hands, clearly frustrated.

“Why are you so stubborn? Every single world you insist on using a sword. We were in a laser battle for goodness sake!”

“Swords are more dependable.”

“Oh come on…”

“Plus I’m a terrible shot.”

He sighed. “Fine. But what if one day you don’t have me watching your back?”

“It will be fine.” I grinned. “Don’t you love saying that everything is according to fate? Maybe a sword is just mine?”

“... It doesn’t work like that.”

_________________________

A brief memory flashed in my mind, confusing me.

During my distraction, Chris’s Mech tried to strike again. With no time to dodge, I raised my gun, blocking the blow with the barrel. The weapon cracked under the edge of the sword. I pushed him back, relying on my superior strength and jumped backwards, throwing away the broken weapon in my hand. Glancing down at the remaining gun I had, I felt a warm liquid drip from my nose. It was bleeding, a sign of the increasing strain of the Connection.

I was breaking down. I wouldn't last the rest of the fight.

I had to surrender.

Screw that!

I holstered my remaining gun, drawing the large sword on my Mech’s back. As I held it in front of me, I suddenly felt at home, completely comfortable, as if I had held a sword many times before. I stared at Chris’s Mech, feeling excited.

Now, this feels like a fight!

I raced forward, swinging my sword in a horizontal strike.

_________________________

I was standing in a group of zombies, my sword cutting through the neck of the closest monster.

_________________________

Chris dodged, stumbling backwards. I used the momentum of my first swing to smoothly transition into a downward slash.

_________________________

I was an elf, dancing in the forest, my blade striking down shadowy creatures in the midst of a large battle.

_________________________

THUD!

A robotic hand fell to the ground as I cut it off at the wrist. Chris let out a moan of pain, cut short as I controlled my Mech to kick him in the face, knocking him on his back.

_________________________

I was a vampire, holding a sword made of darkness, fighting humans with elegance and grace.

_________________________

Chris tried to stand up but my foot on his chest prevented the movement. I rested the tip of my sword at his Mech’s throat.

“Do you surrender?”

_________________________

“Surrender?” I smiled as I spoke, staring down at the man on the ground. I couldn’t see his face clearly except for his dark blue eyes, which stared at me without a hint of embarrassment despite his defeated position.

“I surrender.” His voice was warm. “You’re pretty amazing with a sword.”

“After all the realms I’ve fought through? I would have to be.” I shook my head. “Don’t you use swords when you travel?”

“I’m not permitted to travel anymore.” He grinned. “I keep refusing to play my role.”

_________________________

I blinked, focusing on the partially destroyed Mech in front of me. Not hearing his answer, I dug the tip into his neck slightly, only stopping when he let out a groan.

“Do. You. Surrender?”

“I surrender.” His answer sounded like it was forced through gritted teeth.

I could hear muted cheers from the crowd behind the shield as the holographic screens around us displayed my name as the victor.

“Good.” I moved my sword and turned away. My body felt drained, every muscle screaming in pain. I tasted blood in my mouth, my head hurting worse with each passing second.

“I’LL BEAT YOU ONE DAY!” Chris called out behind me. “I’LL GET STRONGER, AND I’LL SHOW YOU!”

“Tell it to someone who cares.” I didn’t turn around, and left the arena.

At least I won. Now if my head would just stop hurting...

As soon as I reached the docking area, my legs crumpled beneath me, and my world faded into darkness.

_________________________

Where am I?

I woke up in a white room, on a plain, clean bed, wearing a hospital gown.

This isn’t a different world, is it?

I carefully searched my memories, but didn’t feel anything different. I sighed, realizing I must be in the school infirmary. In my memories of her life, Alaira had helped bring her fellow students there in the past, but had never stayed to be examined. Deep down she had known that without a Connector she was breaking down, and was afraid the school would prevent her from fighting.

It might have saved her life if she had.

I sat up, rubbing my forehead tiredly. It was still throbbing.

“Are you okay?” A soft voice spoke up, startling me.

I jumped, looking to the chair beside my bed, where a dark haired young man sat. His dark blue eyes studied me carefully, his face expressionless.

“…Prince William?”

“…” After a long silence, he nodded slowly.

“What are you doing here?”

He stared down at the floor silently, and just when I thought he might not respond, he reached out, handing me a peeled apple.

I took it, feeling dazed. “Umm… thanks.” I took a bite, and after swallowing, asked the question on my mind. “Were you the one leaving food outside my dorm room then?”

“…hmm.” His gaze never left the ground.

What the heck kind of answer is “hmm”?!!

“How did you know I like peeled apples?”

“…” A look of genuine confusion crossed his face, but quickly disappeared as he shrugged silently.

“Okay. Well. Thanks.” I pushed myself up, trying to swing my legs to the side of the bed.

He stood up, his face concerned. “Wait. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, my head hurts, but otherwise I feel great.”

“…You should rest.” He frowned as he looked me over.

“It’s just strain from a prolonged connection.” I sighed. “I’m used to it.”

“You haven’t matched?” He seemed mixed, as if happy and disappointed at the same time.

“Nope. Not for lack of trying though. ” I looked him over. “Are you a Connector? Have you matched yet?”

“I…” A look of agony distorted his features.

“He can’t. He’s broken.”

A young woman stood at the door of the infirmary, a mocking smile on her face.

I studied the newcomer carefully. She had long black curls framing a heart shaped face, and large blue eyes that looked down on me with pride. Given the similarities in features to Prince William next to me, it wasn’t difficult to figure out her identity.

“I’m assuming you’re Princess Ilene?”

She ignored my words, walking closer to her brother, whose face had become expressionless once again.

“He can’t Connect. His mental barrier is too strong.” She stopped a few feet away from him and raised her hand, knocking on what looked to be empty air. It made a solid noise, her hand stopping at the same invisible point. “He can’t put it down even if he wants to.”

I thought back to the first time I met him, remembering people being pushed aside.

“A useless Connector who can’t make the connection. A Guardian who can’t match. Two failures together.” She smiled at me. “Sorry I took away your only possible chance at matching Chris, but you needed to see the reality of the situation. He’s a better Guardian than you.”

“…Remind me again who ended up flat on their back at the end of the last fight?”

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance at my comeback. “At least he will be around a long time to help fight the Hive. You, on the other hand.” Ilene pointed at her head and turned her finger in a circle. “You have no future. But on the bright side, at least my useless brother can keep you company while your mind slowly breaks apart.”

BAM

William stood up, angry, and with the loud sound of an impact, Ilene was pushed by an invisible barrier out of the room. Her face enraged, she slammed her fists against it while her mouth made motions as if she was shouting. I stared at her, confused as to why I couldn’t hear her.

“…I sealed her out of the barrier.” William whispered. “Her voice can't make it through either.”

“Oh.” I nodded with satisfaction, watching her shout silently outside the doorway. “Thanks.”

“I can expand the barrier… but she’s right… I can’t drop it.” His eyes dropped down to the floor again. “I can’t Connect… I can’t help Guardians… useless…” His voice slowly dropped in volume, until it was barely a whisper.

“Well, you’re helping me out right now, and I’m a Guardian. So I’d say you’re a pretty useful guy.” I gave him a thumbs up. “I know that not hearing her is already making my day better.”

He stared at me silently for a few moments. “… Are you hungry?”

“Kind of. Why? Do you have more apples or something?”

William shook his head. “No… cake.”

“Please tell me you are serious.”

He solemnly set a container with a piece of cake on the table next to me, along with a napkin and utensils.

I stared at it in shock, motionless.

“… Do you not like it?” His nervous tone broke me out of my stupor. I quickly reached out and held the container close, grabbing the fork and taking a bite.

“Oh, this is amazing… totally worth passing out after my fight.” I took a few more bites, noting him relaxing visibly as I showed my enjoyment. “…Why are you being so nice to me, anyways?”

“Why?” William blinked, looking shocked as if he hadn’t considered it before.

“Yeah. As far as I can tell, I haven’t met you outside of running into you in the hallway once. Why go out of your way to leave me food and sit by me in the infirmary?”

He finally looked up, his dark blue eyes staring into my own. “…I’m not sure. “ He shrugged. “Whenever I see you, I feel happy. I want to help you.”

I leaned back against the backboard of the infirmary bed. “Well… I guess I could always use a friend.”

“Friends?” A trace of a smile crossed his face, before it disappeared into expressionless once more. “Really?”

“Yeah. So let me introduce myself officially, Prince William.” I started to reach out a hand to shake, but remembering his barrier, I pulled it back. “I’m Alaira. Level S Guardian but unable to match, and your new friend.”

He stared at my hand with a look of regret before looking back up. “I’m a Level S Connector… but can’t connect. I’m your new friend… “ He hesitated. “Can you call me a nickname instead?”

“Sure.”

“Then call me… Liam.”

_________________________

“Are you lost?” I woke up in a strange world to the sound of an unfamiliar voice, laying on my back, confused.

“Seems a good description for my current situation.” I stared into a pair of dark blue eyes, smiling despite the dizziness. “Nice to meet you, Stranger.”

He grinned, reaching out a hand to help me up. “Call me Liam.”

“Nice to meet you, Liam.”

_________________________

I blinked away the memory, smiling at the timid young man in front of me. “Nice to meet you… Liam.”

[imaginationmess]

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract  ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

[fandom-blackhole]

Sinful Sunday

AN: Oh boy....guys, I just want to say that this month has left me very frustrated, and I apologize for the first THOT, but at the same time, I am not sorry because at least to me it is VERY hot. Anyway, I hope this week treats you all well, and I hope this week goes smoothly for me, but if you all hear screaming and dull thuds, it's just me bashing my head in trying not to kill someone :). Love you all, and!!!! We hit 666 followers last night so this week we will be doing supernatural asks starting today until Friday!!! Thank you all!!

Pairings: Modern!Boba Fett x Reader, Commander Fox x Reader

Sinful Sunday Masterlist

Boba Fett x Reader

This is ENTIRELY self-indulgent, and completely revolves around how my work is gonna go, and how I wish a certain bounty hunter would come and give me some stress relief…

This job was going to be the death of you. Wait no, a select few high school students and your asshole supervisor were going to be the death of you. When you signed up to supervise this summer program you had not expected it to go so far south. Hell, you'd been in the program when you were in high school and it was never this bad, so why was it your luck that it was when you were on the adult side of things that everything just went by the wayside. 

When you were in the program all of the adults got along, the head never accused the others of being rude, targeting the students, or being power-hungry like yours was now. When you were in the program, sure there was drama, I mean its high school students what did you expect, but never this bad, and never in multiple different groups, it was usually one, but now it seemed like all but five of the students were at each other's throats for one thing or another. And honestly, if it were up to you at this point, you'd be getting paid more for doing your supervisor's job for him, and you wouldn't be going on the end of the month trip, but you had to go on the trip to get paid and there was no way you were going to be getting more money at this point.

It was fine though, you only had to work with that asshole prick and with the students for 5 more days… 24/5…. before you were home free….to start prepping for university. You know what, this adult ingredient thing is not your cup of tea and you wanted out, fuck.

The first day of the trip went relatively ok, you only had to yell at the boys a couple of hundred times, and pop several headache pills while your supervisor continued to avoid his job, but you know, it could be worse. When you got to the hotel, you were all but dead on your feet, and the thought of having to be up at an ungodly hour the next morning had you groaning, but collecting your room key from your head boss with a smile anyway.

What you hadn't expected was one of the girls' meltdown, nor when you were tiredly trying to calm her and keep your temper at bay for her to shove you hard, and while on already unsteady feet to stumble backward and trip over a foot and start to fall. You gasped and reached out to catch yourself, as well as the foot's owner grabbing you, resulting in a very awkward position of you grabbing the man's suit jacket, while he held you in what looked to be a very low dip, almost like the two of you had been dancing.

You immediately felt heat rise in your face as your eyes widened in shock and you started apologizing all over yourself as you righted yourself and bent over to grab your bag. The stranger just laughed and steadied you, before pushing your chin to look at him saying, "It’s fine, little one, no harm done. Don't worry about it, you seem to have your hands full already."

As he finished speaking, he motioned his head over to where two of the three of your head bosses were talking to the girl that shoved you, and the third was walking over to check on you. They said your name and asked frantically, "Are you alright? We are taking care of the situation, feel free to sit down if you need to."

"I'm fine, I promise. Mr….."

"Fett, Boba Fett," the stranger supplied and reached over to shake your boss' hand, and much to your shame you couldn't help but gulp at how Mr. Fett's hand dwarfed your bosses. Clearing your throat you smiled at your boss as they nodded and left, and continued, "Mr. Fett so graciously, saved me from the fall I would have had onto these stone floors," then turning to Mr. Fett, you smiled at him, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes made contact with his swirling eyes that reminded you of the enticing smoky quartz you had at home, "Thank you very much, Mr. Fett, I am more thankful for your quick reflexes than I can express."

"Please, Mr. Fett was my father, Boba is quite alright, and you don't need to thank me, I would have felt guilty if I had not been able to catch you in time."

“Well still, Mr,” as you started Mr. Fett narrowed his eyes at you with a glint in his eyes, that made you smile and look down, “Boba, thank you.”

With that, you looked up and met his eyes one last time, before nodding and walking away, flushing from head to toe as you walked into the elevator and turned to find him still watching you with a smile. Once the doors finally shut you let out a shuddering breath and wrapped your arms around yourself as you waited for your floor. You weren’t sure if it was the stress you had been under this past month, or if it was a good-looking man saving you from getting injured, but you couldn’t get Boba Fett’s face or voice out of your mind. You should really blame being so touch starved for the way you replayed the way he had looked at you, his eyes aglow with something that was more than just friendly, from the way your mind rolled over the way his lips had spoken each rumbling word, and as you walked into your room and collapsed back onto the bed your groaned knowing that tonight it was going to be hard not to touch yourself to the thought of the man who had been nothing but kind to you.

It wasn’t until later, as you were saying good night to your colleagues and your bosses after taping the students’ doors for the night that you saw him again. You had been headed to your room, listening to each of the rooms as you passed making sure none of the kids were being loud or making too much noise. You were so caught up in listening, that you again ran into Boba, and as you apologized and looked up you felt the flush from earlier returning to your face. 

“Mr. Fett I am so sorry! I should have been paying attention to where I was walking!”

“Little one, what did I tell you, you only have to call me Boba,” he waited until you nodded, before tilting your chin up with his finger again and continued, “Good, now tell me. Are you done working for the night?”

His gaze was engulfing and made your mouth go dry, stealing all the words from your mouth so you only nodded, and melted when Boba’s lips turned up into a smile. Then, surprising you, even more, he leaned down and sealed your lips together in a consuming kiss that stole your breath and pulled a whimper out of you. When Boba pulled back from the kiss, he didn’t move far, staying close enough, that his lips brushed yours as he spoke.

“Little one, I have to say that I have been thinking about you since I saw you, even before you literally fell for me,” he chuckled as he pressed another kiss to your lips, before saying, “and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t ask. Little one, I would love to treat you right tonight, if you would let me?”

The second the words left his lips, your eyes shot open, not having realized they had fallen closed in the soft moment. Only when they were open, you found Boba’s eye burning with desire and a promise that had you shuddering out a yes, before your brain could even process what was happening. You, in a daze, lead him to your room and keyed in, as he crowded you against the door, as Boba’s lips graced along your neck and he ground his hardening cock against your ass.

 The second the door opened, Boba had you pushed against the floor-length mirror hung on the wall not far from the door. It didn’t take long at all for him to have you a panting mess as he alternated between nipping at your jaw, whispering about how good you looked in his arms earlier, and kissing you senseless. You moaned his name softly as one of his hands pushed underneath your shirt and squeezed your nipple through the thin fabric of your sports bra, before pulling the shirt off altogether and shedding his suit jacket and sharp green tie. 

The two of you were all hands, groping at each other and tearing fabric away as quickly as possible while sharing moans and groans through kisses. Boba had consumed your thoughts, to the point where you couldn’t even worry about your volume and the fact that your coworker may hear you through the wall. No, the only thing you were worried about, was the fact that you were so worked up that your hands couldn’t even undo Boba’s belt as you continued to fumble with it as Boba had you already stripped to your panties and was leaving red marks all along your shoulders. 

Finally, when you gave of a pitiful needy whine, Boba pulled back, and with almost completely black eyes from lust ordered you to turn around. The second you did as you were told, you flushed at the sight that greeted you. In the mirror, you saw the way your lips were red and shiny from all the kisses you had shared and from how Boba had nipped at your bottom lip. You saw how hungry your eyes looked and how wet you felt looking at the tiny bruises Boba had put on your shoulders where only you would see. Then, you looked over your shoulder and found Boba watching you in your needy state, making direct eye contact with you as you heard him fisting his cock and rubbing it while just watching you in the mirror. 

“Bend over, princess. Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.”

Moaning you did as you were told, even wiggling your ass a little in an attempt to get him to move quicker, which only resulted in Boba grabbing a handful of your ass before growling out quietly, “Patience, princess, be patient.”

Then he was pulling your panties to the side with a drawn-out groan as he took the middle finger of his other hand, and swiped it through your wet folds, and shoved it into your hungry walls. He growled out a few obscenities as he started to earnestly fuck his finger up into you, watching as your mouth dropped open into an O and you gave out tiny moans and pushed back onto his finger. Then he was pressing a second finger inside of you and you felt your eyes roll upwards as you moaned out, “Yes yes yes yes, please, don’t stop, of fuck, yesssssss.”

Boba grinned in the mirror and kept fucking up into you, making sure to scissor out his fingers to open your tight walls up to fit his cock. He watched as you climbed higher and higher, gushing around his fingers and sucking them back in with each thrust. He loved watching your face in the mirror, watching each twitch and facial expression of pleasure he was bringing you. And he more than enjoyed knowing, from the look on your face alone just how close you were to peeking. It was when you tightened impossibly around his fingers that he knew you were right on the precipice of cumming, and he quickly yanked his fingers out, nearly cumming himself from the downright needy and torn moan you gave him when he robbed you of your orgasm. 

“Don’t worry, little one, you’ll get to cum, but only when this pussy is wrapped around my cock.”

Then you heard him tear open a wrapper, looking up to see the condom wrapper in between his teeth as he rolled it over his cock, before spitting the wrapper away and making eye contact with you as he rubbed himself along your entrance, “Are you ready, princess? I’ll warn you, I am much bigger than my fingers.”

You just whimpered and nodded, only being able to think about how much you needed him inside you, how much you wanted him to stretch your walls. Boba smirked and wrapped one hand along your waist while he guided his cock inside of you, sinking in about halfway, before pulling out and thrusting back in. And he was right, he was MUCH larger than his fingers, you swore he was spreading you to your limit, but it still felt so good. By the time he was fully seated inside of you, and you could feel his open zipper and open belt along your ass and thighs, you just needed him to move, desperate for the friction and pleasure that his cock could bring you, so you ground back into him. Boba responded by pulling out until his cock head was the only thing still inside of you, before slamming back in and setting a brutal pace. 

Your hands splayed out on the mirror, needing them there to help you keep your balance as Boba’s powerful thrusts slammed into you, pushing you so that your head almost hit the mirror and your breath fogged up the mirror with every moan of his name. It was all almost too much, and your eyes slipped closed trying to focus on the rocking thrusts that were inching you closer and closer to that familiar edge but Boba was having none of that. He grabbed the back of your neck, never halting his pace, and pull you up against his stomach saying, “Open those eyes, little one. I want you to watch yourself as I wreck this perfect body of yours. I want you to see what you look like when I give you an orgasm no one else can, while I give you pleasure nobody else ever will.”

Moaning you cracked your eyes open and made eye contact with Boba, watching as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and groped at your chest, pulling one of your breasts free as he impaled you on his cock over and over. In this new position, Boba was angled just right to brush against that devastating spot inside of you the one that had you throwing your head back and clawing at Boba’s thighs as you balanced on the edge of cumming. Only falling over that edge, when Boba’s free hand moved down and he circled your clit with two fingers a few times and growled, “Cum for me princess.”

And you did. You came hard, and with a breathless scream of Boba’s name. You clenched down tightly around him, your walls pulsating as he continued thrusting deep inside of you and playing with your clit dragging out your high before you felt Boba’s cock twitch a few times and he gave a few shallow thrusts with a curse.

You both stilled after that, Boba resting his head on the back of your neck and your head resting against your chest as you tried to catch your breath with his slowly softening cock still buried inside of you. When you both finally came back to yourselves, Boba pulled out completely and whispered, “Come on, little one, let’s take a shower and then get you to bed.”

“Mmmm, you’ll stay? Just until I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you princess, anything for you.”

Commander Fox x Reader

I haven't written Fox in a while, so I figured I'd indulge myself with a soft little drabble for him…

Fox was tired, no past tired, he was exhausted. He was past being able to function on caf alone, and to the point that he had actually listened when Thorn had sent him away telling him to rest and eat something. But as much as he had listened to his brother, he had also ignored him, and instead of going to rest or find something nutritional, he had instead made the trek across the city to you. He knew it was late, and you had no doubt been in bed asleep for several hours, but with being away from you for days on end after the newest attack on the senate, he knew that he would not be sleeping unless it was curled against your side.

It was easy to slip past the security of your building, especially since he'd down it on multiple occasions and once while drunk. He reminded himself once again, to send in an anonymous request for better security around the building, ask he climbed into the elevator and made his way to your floor. He wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep on the ride, but he seemed to arrive sooner than usual, and he stumbled out walking right to your door and putting in your code with a smile, having known the four digit code longer than it had been your apartment code, having had the number been assigned to him as a child before you took it and made it your own. 

He only paused at the door for a second to listen and make sure you were asleep, and his sneaking in had not woke you. After confirming you were still asleep, he careful pulled the armor from his body, it having been a weighted burden for days now, and setting it aside on the floor of your living room, before walking towards the bedroom. He knew for a fact, if he wanted, he could walk this apartment in his sleep, not entirely sure that isn't what he was doing right now.

Only, he paused again as he reached the bedroom, taking in your sleeping face that was lit by the soft glow of the bright lights shining through your bedroom curtains. Fox knew he could watch you like this for hours, you looked so soft it made his heart stutter. So carefree and free of the stress you held during the day. Your fave completely relaxed, nose occasionally scrunching up as you dreamed, and letting out soft mumbles that were indecipherable, but never failed to bring a smile to his face. 

Eventually Fox did crawl into bed behind you, and relaxed only when you pressed up against him, and in your sleep, sighed out his name. It was in that moment that he wished more than anything to just pause time and hold you like this until the end of the galaxy.

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[slytherinsnekxvii]

i've been thinking about sirius black and grimmauld place and how much he hates it. so, here have this little fic i wrote about my take on that, just to get myself back into the swing of things now that real life has let up a little bit. warning for awful parenting that might hit a little too close to home before it goes off the rails, walburga and orion saying some really horrible things, and a stinging hex:

By the time Sirius gets his Hogwarts letter, Regulus has mastered the art of performing. He's much better than Sirius was—is—and Sirius wonders how much of that comes from Regulus seeing him make the simplest of mistakes and face the consequences. He wonders when he realised that he's being made an example.

He draws a knee up to his chest, idly twirling a quill between his fingers as his stomach grumbles. He ignores it. He's been sent to bed without supper enough times now that it hardly matters. He scratches two more lines of I will be obedient into the parchment and he thinks about Regulus some more.

He doesn't like the kid, sometimes. Envies him, even. There are things he does that Sirius finds maddening. Regulus has never spoken an original thought his life, follows every instruction given to him, willingly backs himself into corners and he refuses to put up a fight, unless he's the one who started it and knows he can finish it. What makes it worse is that these are lessons that Sirius taught him and couldn't learn himself.

Keep your innermost thoughts close to your chest and if you must speak them, do it aside, address no one but yourself.

Follow orders. Let yourself be manhandled and coerced into position by those who can see the bigger picture.

Never turn your back to your audience.

Turn the other cheek and follow through.

It's bothersome. They have a perfect little heir right there, but they ignore him just to try and force Sirius to be what they want him to be. It's a waste of everyone's time, since they all know that round pegs do not fit into triangular holes. It's suffocating, since they try to do it anyway, shaving away at the bits and pieces that won't fit, hacking at the parts of him that don't mold to fit the shape that they've carved for everyone carrying the Black name. It's unfair, that he's stuck here like this, going to bed without supper, writing lines, of all things, and riding out the effects of a nasty session of "Occlumency training", which he is certain is just an excuse to rifle through his mind and give him a headache.

I will be obedient. I will be obedient. I will be obedient.

His hand moves on its own, the letters appearing on the page ever-so-slightly wobbly as he writes without bothering to look at the words. It's infuriating, the way they echo in his head over and over, and over, again.

He lifts his head when Kreacher appears before him with a crack, his horrid little house-elf face twisted into that familiar, ever-present cross between a grimace and a scowl. "What?" he asks, and somehow, the elf's expression sours even more.

"Mistress wants her lines," Kreacher says. "Mistress says Kreacher is to collect them from Master Sirius."

"I'm not done yet," Sirius snaps, and bites his tongue when the house-elf turns up his mouth in disapproval. He takes his time carving the last few sentences into the parchment, and while his penmanship is probably the greatest it's ever been, he still scowls at the paper even after it's been handed over.

Kreacher scowls back at him and disappears. Sirius rubs his ears and wonders if the elf Apparates that loudly on purpose.

I will be obedient. I will be obedient. I will be obedient. The stupid words spin around in his head, and he scowls harder as he considers that he could probably fill an entire sheaf of parchment in his sleep.

See if I ever turn out like the bloody show dog you want, he thinks, vehemently, and shoves aside the bits of stationery on his desk so he can collapse face-first and not think. There's another crack, and he startles, forcing himself upright as Kreacher stands before him, with his little, twisted house-elf face and little, twig-like house-elf arms crossed.

"What?" he bites, again, and when the elf's expression takes a turn for the worse, he leans back in his chair and doesn't bother shaking off the vindictive satisfaction that crawls up his spine.

"Mistress wants to see Master Sirius in Master Orion's study. Master Sirius is a bad boy," Kreacher tells him, and he fights the urge to slam his fist on the desk, or worse, into Kreacher.

"Why?" Sirius asks, and he knows exactly why, they only ever want him for one reason, they never call on him for anything else, at all, ever, but he still asks. He's not actually expecting anything different, but he does it, just to be difficult.

"Master Sirius has been a bad boy," Kreacher says.

"Right, yeah. Thought as much, really," Sirius tells him, and makes no move to get up from his seat.

"Mistress wants to see Master Sirius in Master Orion's study," Kreacher repeats, and Sirius scoffs at him.

"And what are you going to do about it?" he taunts, and the elf Disapparates. Sirius sneers a bit at the wall, sticks out his tongue as he mocks, "Master Sirius has been a bad boy." He scoffs, idly kicks at the leg of his desk. "Master Sirius has been Sirius. Master Sirius isn't Regulus."

He collapses onto the desk again, lets out a quiet, frustrated scream as his leg picks up the speed and kicks even harder. He takes a deep breath as the woods shudders beneath him and eventually gets his limbs back under control. "Master Sirius doesn't want to be told what to do," he mumbles into the wood. "Master Sirius is a person. Master Sirius doesn't want to be controlled," he continues, quiet, and is glad that his moping is drowned out by the sound of Kreacher Apparating into his bedroom once again.

"Mistress says Master Sirius is being difficult. Maater Sirius must come to the study at once," the elf says, and Sirius doesn't even bother to lift his head. "Master Sirius must come! Mistress insists!"

"Or what?" Sirius asks, tone as bitter and spiteful as his little eleven-year-old tongue can manage.

"Mistress says that Master Sirius must come to the study at once! Master Sirius is being a very bad boy! Horrible boy! Spiteful child!"

Sirius feels his eye twitch as he listens to the elf slowly dissolve into histrionics, wonders if he's listening to Kreacher, or his mother. "Master Sirius is just fine!" he says. "Master Sirius doesn't have to listen to you or be obedient or anything!"

"Master Sirius must go to the study!"

"No!" Sirius exclaims, and he does bang his fist on the desk, noticing far too late that Kreacher has gone silent. The realisation strikes him when his hand leaves the desk and a hand circles his wrist, grip ice-cold. "No..." he says, quiet, and horror takes him as he involuntarily tries to tear away from the hold. If anything, it tightens.

"You would disobey your parents, Sirius Orion?"

"I—" Sirius gasps, and forces himself to be as still as possible, as steady as he can manage even though he still finds himself shaking by the time he finds it in himself to continue. "No, Father, I—"

He won't hit you, Sirius thinks. He would never stoop so low, and he isn't holding his wand. He wouldn't hit you. He wouldn't. He would never. Not with his bare hands. Not without his wand.

His trembling ceases a little, and he starts to speak again. "No, Father, I—"

"Quiet. Your mother is calling for you, you wretched child. Why have you not attended to her?"

"I'm sorry—"

"Apologies mean nothing without action, young man. Do better," Orion stresses, and Sirius bends, head bowing as he prepares to reiterate his apology.

"I—"

"That was not an invitation to speak, Sirius Orion."

"Yes, Father. S—" he bites his tongue and tries not to listen to his heart slowly beating its way out of his chest.

"This is no behaviour to be exhibited by my heir. You will get up, and you will come with me to attend to your mother."

"Yes, Father," Sirius says, and swallows the fire building behind his tongue and under his fear.

The grip around his wrist loosens, and he moves it a little, just to make sure it's still there, still attached, still working and prepares to get up even as he hates himself for listening and his father for making him.

"Quickly, Sirius Orion. Your mother is waiting."

"Yes, Father," he says, and in his mind, he kicks himself for the meekness in his tone.

When he stands up on marginally less shaky legs, Orion moves to clap a hand on his shoulder to steady him and the sheer anticipation of the touch forces Sirius to stand at attention. He straightens his spine until it can go no further without snapping, and when Orion's hand actually lands on his shoulder, he has to concentrate to avoid flinching under the touch.

Orion taps his shoulder once, twice, and then grips it with the same force he'd used on Sirius' wrist. "Go on, then."

Sirius starts to move. Orion does not let up, steel grip still locked in place as it directs Sirius throughout the house. They pass Regulus' door, and Sirius fights the urge to sneer at it, with its stupid, pretentious sign protecting his stupid, pretentious baby brother who's probably asleep with a full belly and not a care in the world with Kreacher at his bedside to bend to his every whim. Stupid, lucky performer sticking to his script... poor little contest crup doing tricks for the judges.

Orion's grip on his shoulder tightens and Sirius hisses as he bends under the pressure. "I said, quickly, Sirius Orion. You would make your mother wait even longer for you than you already have?"

"No, I—" Sirius continues, tripping over his own feet as the his own movement ceases while his father continues to push.

"She's been patient all this time and you would leave her to sit alone and unattended to?"

"Father—"

"Ungrateful child," Orion rebukes and Sirius chokes.

"Yes, Father."

They enter the study quietly, Sirius standing at attention once more while Orion rounds the large desk to take his seat. Walburga crosses and uncrosses her legs in her nearby armchair, and clears her throat. She sits up, handa placed carefully atop each other in her lap and it's an image he's familiar with. She elegantly rolls her wand between her fingers and Sirius reminds himself to tread carefully, don't make a mistake, she's armed, even if this the most demure he's ever seen her.

"Siri."

"Yes, Mother," he answers.

"Why did you not come when I called?"

I didn't want to, I hate you, I hate you both, he thinks. I was scared, he thinks. "I don't know, Mother," he says.

"That isn't an answer, Sirius Orion. If you didn't know, you could have done as I asked of you and inquired it of me when you arrived."

You didn't bother to ask. You ordered, he thinks. "Yes, Mother," he says.

"Why did you not come when I called?"

I'm here, anyways, aren't I? "Kreacher was annoying me," he lies, or well, sort of. Kreacher had been annoying him, but that wasn't why he'd disobeyed. He bites his tongue when he watches their expressions shift.

"Kreacher... was annoying you," Walburga asks, tone flat.

"Yes, Mother," Sirius says.

"So, rather than banish him and do as you were told, you chose... to disobey me?" The uptick in her voice is dangerous, but her position remains the same and Sirius falls into the trap.

"I—sorry, Moth—agh!" The Stinging Hex hits his hand and he shakes it the appendage rapidly as he waits for the pain to abate. "Yes, Mother," he croaks, when his hand graduates from acute pain to slight numbness.

"Do better next time," Walburga tells him, rolling her thirteen inches of elm between her fingers. "Apologies are worthless, I know your father would have told you that much."

"Yes, Mother. I won't keep you waiting again, Mother," Sirius forces. You'll drag me kicking and screaming next time, he thinks.

"Words, again. Powerful, yes. Useful, yes... but that's only in the hands of those whose actions are able to prove it. You've not done so, Siri," Walburga continues, quiet, and this is how Sirius knows he's gone and done it.

His hands move to clench on their own, and his aching left convinces him to clasp them behind his back instead. His legs itch to move, to run away, to go anywhere but here. He wishes he had his broom.

"You disobey. You refuse to listen. You ignore our teachings. You blunder and stumble and do all manner of upsetting things, Siri. We feed you and clothe you and we provide a bed for you to rest your head when the night comes, and yet... you continue to act so horribly. You speak out of turn, you do everything in the exact wrong manner. If I didn't know better, I would think you were doing such awful things on purpose. To spite your father and I." Her eyes meet his and Sirius can't help it, he looks away. His father's lip curls and still, he refuses to look at her.

"You are a horrible child, Siri. Wicked and ungrateful and awful. You aren't worthless, though. You're the product of your father and I, after all. And you aren't incompetent or stupid. You can be taught, Siri. All you must do is listen, and obey. You can be trained and we will make you the wizard you were meant to be as our heir. You need not do anything but obey."

Sirius takes a breath, the cool air sticking in the back of his throat as he feels the hackles on the back of his neck raise. "I—You don't—"

"Don't... what, Sirius Orion?" his father asks.

Nothing, he thinks. "It's—I'm a person! You want an heir that you can teach and train and make, have Regulus! I don't—" he starts, and his eyes widen as he listens to the words spilling out of his mouth with no permission of his and no control over them at all.

"You are a wretched, horrible creature! Awful boy! Spiteful child! How dare you?" Walburga screeches, and Sirius winces, his own mouth clamping shut. "We are your family, your parents. You would disgrace your own blood in such a way? Horrible, awful child! Incompetent! Lazy! Stupid! Never learns! You are an awful creature! Terrible boy! Unworthy! I can hardly believe you came of my loins! We have been nothing but good to you! Awful child, waste of blood, Sirius Orion, how dare you?"

She's sprung out of her chair, elm wand held high in her hand as a weapon, and Sirius ducks even as he shouts.

"I didn't mean it! I didn't, I didn't, I was only angry," he pleads. "I won't do it again," he tells them, quietly, and as his mouth quivers, he tastes salt.

"See to it that you don't," Orion says, frigid even as he rests a hand on his wife's waist to steady her and glares at his firstborn. "I'll not have such an outburst taking place again."

Tell that to your wife, Sirius thinks bitterly, sniffing as quietly and unnoticeably as possible to stave off the rest of the tears he hadn't realised he was crying.

"Yes, Father," Sirius says.

"Get out," Orion tells him.

"Yes, Father," Sirius says, and with that, he turns around and leaves. Quietly, with some sort of dignity so they don't have another thing to hold over his head.

He passes Regulus' stupid door again, kicks it and watches as not even the sign shakes.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," he cries, quietly, as he continues down the hallway, with his voice warbling and his fist pounding against the wall as he goes. Regulus' face flashes through his mind, and then his mother's, his father's, his own. Coward, he spits, inaudible, and the word is coated in every bit of venom he's capable of. "I hate you," he says to the empty air, and not even he can tell who he's trying to address.

[beeexx]

A little Tarlos moment fron 2x09

Read on ao3

TK’s headache has moved further down from his forehead, to settle like a blanket of pain wrapped over his eyes instead. It makes sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair all the more worse, the bright light doing nothing other than adding to his growing discomfort and slight nausea. He is tapping his leg, the sound bouncing off the quiet sleepy room, and he thinks that the only reason Marjan hasn’t whacked him to make it stop is because she’s still pitying him over his brief spell in a room similar to the one Judd is in for a concussion that still hasn’t completely gone away. He moves his head between his legs, closes his eyes to try and drown out some of the blinding lights and breathes through his nose. 

He keeps bouncing his leg though.

TK hates hospitals. He has many reasons for disliking them but he’s never had to spend a night on the edge of his seat, worried sick for people he cares about before, not in this capacity at least and it’s making him feel sick.

The worst thoughts rush through to the surface unbidden. What if he never gets to see either one of them again, hear them laugh, joke around with Judd, dinner at their place every other Sunday. What if Judd doesn’t make it? What if Grace dies? What if -

“Hi, you okay?” It’s Carlos of course, back from his coffee run, who gently places a hand on his shoulder. TK tenses for a moment, caught off guard and suddenly ready to bolt right out of his seat. He can’t fully tamper down his reaction and Carlos notices of course. TK thinks he’s probably frowning and it doesn’t take long for Carlos to start to shuffle around until he’s sitting on the ground in front of TK, coffee cup left forgotten on the chair. TK opens his mouth-

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, it’s very obvious that you aren’t.” Carlos chastises making TK look up from the ground he’s been staring holes at. His lip twitches though and he nods.

“Yeah, I won’t.” He promises and it makes Carlos’ worry lines less prominent for a moment. His hair is still a little sleep tussled, a few strands of curls at the back Carlos spends ages on each morning to lie flat are now loose and he looks tired, he is probably as tired as TK feels. 

It’s been just a few days since the kidnapping and TK’s gotten used to having a particularly sort of nasty headache as his daily companion since then, ruining both his days and nights with spells of pain that won’t go away. Well, it’s probably ruined Carlos’ nights too, judging by the growing circles underneath his eyes, and TK’s constant tossing and turning every time they’re in bed. It’s been a few days of bad sleep and lounging around the house with Carlos worrying. It makes TK feel really bad, he hates it when Carlos worries about him. 

Both he and Carlos had however gotten their best night’s sleep in days when the call came through, waking them both and sending TK into a near panic attack when he heard what had happened. He’s strung so ridiculously tight he’s scared he’s going to snap in half and he goes back to bouncing his leg, trying to distract from his discomfort, averting his eyes.

“Hey, no shutting me out.” Carlos gently cups his chin and forces him to meet his eyes, thumb stroking up and down in comforting motions, eyes kind and understanding. TK sighs but he nods.

“Sorry.” His voice cracks and he clears his throat, trying to get the lingering thickness away. He looks away for a moment, sees Mateo is asleep with his head resting on Paul’s shoulder while Paul is reading, frowning slightly as his eyes move across the text, flipping pages now and then. Marjan left with Tommy a while back to go do something TK isn’t sure of exactly and he hasn’t seen his dad for a while either. They are all somewhere near of course, lurking, in case something changes.

“I’m scared.” TK keeps his voice down though, just in case. Carlos nods and moves his hands to cover TK’s thighs, pressing gently down on his right leg to stop the movement. It’s an involuntary reaction on TK’s end that he stops, the effect of Carlos’ touch on him, anchoring, calming him down almost immediately. Carlos gently squeezes his knee.

“I know baby, I am too. But the doctors are optimistic and we have to believe them.”

“They are cautiously optimistic and I don’t know what that means in doctor lingo but cautiously sounds like it’s not something to celebrate yet.” He mutters. 

“Maybe not, but it’s not cause for sitting here looking close to fainting either. I don’t think Judd would like it if you ended up in a hospital bed yet again after getting out of one so soon.”

“I would do it if it would make him wake up and bust my balls.” 

Carlos' mouth twitches.

“He’s going to wake up.” Carlos says with such conviction TK believes him.

“But what about Grace?” He whispers, dread filling his stomach. Grace with her kind eyes, easy smiles, never ending patience and generous support TK’s not realised he’s cherished this much until she’s suddenly been hurt, with the outlook not seeming good. He is scared, terrified even that she might not make it. He doesn’t know what it would do to Judd if that was to happen. Carlos grows serious and his eyes travel to the room she is in, sadness passing over his features. With Michelle gone a lot Carlos and Grace had formed an easy friendship to fill up that empty space, and so it wasn’t totally unusual that when TK came home after shifts to find Grace and Carlos out on the patio together, drinking lemonade and chatting away, smiles wide and whatever task they had said they would do, long forgotten. It’s not just TK it pains to see Judd and Grace hurt, it pains Carlos just as much and TK immediately reaches forward, cupping Carlos’ cheek and leaning his forehead on his, offering his comfort up like it’s second nature. They both exhale, breathing through it together. 

“It’s going to be okay, it has to.” Carlos says quietly and gives himself over to the worry for a moment before he pulls himself together, pushing the worry down. TK knows compartmentalising like Carlos can do is something that isn’t always the healtihest of coping mechanisms. Right now though, TK isn’t going to say anything, god knows he has a terrible track record of bad ways to deal with things, and he wishes at this moment that he could do it too, push it down and focus on something else. 

“The doctors say Judd is going to wake up but it will be a few hours until then, so we’re going to have to believe that everything is going to be okay. In the meantime why don’t we go home and shower and change clothes.” He suggests.

“Not to sleep?”

“I’m not aiming that high today, I don’t think either of us will be able to do that. But you don’t look too good right now and it’s worrying me a little, so instead of checking you into this hospital myself I suggest we go back to mine and recharge for a moment and come back with food for everyone. I’m sure they’ll all need it.”

It’s a distraction, probably as much for Carlos as it is for TK, but it’s a distraction born out of kindness and a big heart, the need to do something other than sit here and worry sick. Carlos, TK has learnt during this year, is the kind of person that needs to do something, he’ll feel absolutely useless sitting still. His brain works best when he’s doing things while TK tends to be the other way around, shutting down, unable to do anything other than freezing, standing still in his growing anxiety, until everything boils over and the urge to either get high or do something almost as equally stupid gets too much and he can’t stop it, sending him down bad paths. 

So he takes the opportunity and nods. Carlos gets to his feet and holds his hand out for him. TK takes it and gently and carefully Carlos pulls him to his feet and wraps an arm around him immediately. For a moment TK snuggles close, nosing at Carlos’ neck before he moves his head away, focusing on walking instead.

“How’s your head?”

“Sore.” He admits out loud and Carlos frowns. “It’s feeling more like a migrain though so maybe it’s just stress?”

“Maybe, do you want an ice pack?” TK thinks of saying no but he isn’t looking forward to getting into the car with the raging monster banging against his eyelids so he nods. Carlos gently kisses his forehead, squeezes his hand before he walks away, leaving TK alone in the mostly deserted hallway, with his thoughts again. 

Being a firefighter has made TK somewhat immune to certain high risk situations, gruesome injuries, fright so visceral people become unpredictable, or shock so silent it feels it lasts for days unable to break free of, and death too, to some extent at least. His dad’s cancer, which had been a suffocating presence, expanding each day inside of TK’s ribcage, making it impossible to focus on anything other than it, giving him little room to exist outside of the anxiety and constant worry. Tim more recently, which had been quick and taking the breath out of him, slamming straight into TK like a block of concrete, catching him unaware. 

His own overdose is a reminder that it takes different shapes.

And then this. Relentless, big, sudden. Impossible to escape. Scary.

They all wear their worry on their faces and clinging desperately to hope that feels like it’s dimming with each moment he stands here. 

He twists the string of Carlos’ APD hoodie, the first thing he had gotten his hands on when they were rushing to get here in the middle of the night. It was a few hours ago now and there hasn’t been an update for a while now, other than that they can only wait which anyone knowing him should be aware he’s terrible at. 

Carlos comes back shortly after, holding the promised ice pack, TK looks behind him at a nurse with red cheeks and a bright smile as she watches them. 

“Carlos Reyes did you flirt with a nurse to get me this?” But he accepts it gratefully and presses it to his face, exhaling in relief at the cold seeping onto his clammy skin. 

“I charmed her more likely, by talking about my very cute but bratty boyfriend.”

“Yeah I’ve changed my mind, I don’t care how you got it, I’m just happy that you did.” Carlos snorts and ruffles his hair. 

They drive back and Carlos helps TK up the stairs before he disposes of him gently onto the bed. When he goes to leave, TK tugs him back, holding tightly onto his hand.

“Where are you going?” He sounds small, he feels small right now.

“Just to get some water, I’ll be right back -” But TK shakes his head, moves the pack of ice away and pulls harder on Carlos’ hand until he gets the hint and climbs into the bed. TK pulls him close, arms wounding around his neck and tucks his face into Carlos’ neck. Carlos' hands come to rest on his waist, big and strong, secure around TK. He feels the heath of them through the shirt he is wearing. He can feel Carlos’ heartbeat against his ribcage too, riverbating through him.

Still here. Still alive. 

TK is used to danger. 

But he isn’t used to this kind of danger, when it feels deeply personal, like an attack. 

And it’s all so sudden, after Carlos’s suspension that has luckily been lifted but had given him enough stress and worry making TK wish he could march into Carlos’ precinct and yell at his boss that one of their best officers deserved better. It comes too soon after he was taken hostage and hurt, the wound hasn’t even begun to heal and it’s been roughly torn open again making TK feel so goddamn unsteady, the fear he’s suddenly been slammed with so tangible as it presses down on him from all sides. He feels he’s been edging closer and closer to a panic attack all night and the only thing that hasn’t sent him completely over the edge is having Carlos near. 

But he’s also so goddamn scared suddenly. He’s suddenly terrified of losing Carlos. A car accident, those happen so often and maybe TK’s been naive but this has never felt like such a palpable threat to him before, until now. Until Judd and until Grace. 

“Talk to me?” Carlos whispers, forcing TK out of his thoughts for a moment and TK hugs him closer, biting down the tears that have come unwillingly. 

“You can never leave me.” The words come pouring out of him and his voice breaks, unable to be kept steady. He bites down hard on his lip but an audibly sniff escapes and when Carlos tries to move his head away TK hugs him tighter, not wanting any space left between them.

Carlos is quiet for a moment, but no longer than that. He takes his hands away from TK’s waist and wraps them gently around TK’s wrists to gently tug them away from his neck so he can look at him. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks and takes TK’s hands in his, holding them delicately, stroking his thumbs soothingly across TK’s skin. TK angles them slightly against Carlos’ chest, closer to his ribcage, where he can feel the thumping of Carlos’ heart underneath his shirt. It comforts him, the only steady rhythm to latch onto at the moment, to try and steady his own breathing, copying the unwavering rise and fall of Carlos’ chest. 

“I don’t know…” TK whispers, unable to meet Carlos’ eyes. He focuses on his and Carlos’ tangled hands, trails the blue veins with his eyes, Carlos’ slender and long fingers, trying to find the right words, while also buying some time. 

“No?” Carlos gently pushes and TK shakes his head. “TK.” Carlos sighs before he cups TK’s cheek and angles it up so he can meet his eyes. TK blinks a few times to clear his watery eyes and Carlos wipes a stray tear away with his thumb, expression stricken, like it gets when he wants so badly to help but doesn’t know what to do. 

“When I was taken hostage…” He begins, clears his throat a few times, can’t bear watching Carlos upset. “I didn’t really stop to consider how awful it was for you during those hours, and I haven’t been able to grasp the intent completely behind your worrying these few days and now it makes me feel like such an ass. But I understand it now too, what happened to Judd and Grace, it could happen to us too and it’s so scary, so scary Carlos, what if -” He stops, gulps down more tears and bites his wobbling lip hard. 

“Hey, hey.” Carlos says gently and TK’s eyes snap to him. They are sad, but determined too. “It could, but even so I will always promise to fight to get back to you.”

“I wish you could promise me you won’t leave me or that I could promise that nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“Well knowing you, letting you out of my sight has proven to be a massive mistake, I swear you’re the most accident prone person I know.” TK wetly chuckles and Carlos’ mouth twitches, the joke easing the tension between them.

“I get scared too, all the time…” Carlos confesses and TK searches his face, reaches out automatically to smooth over the worryline on his forehead, itching to kiss it away.

“Yeah?” TK asks. Carlos nods.

“Yeah, all the time. Especially where you are concerned. But I do think it’s only normal with our jobs and so on. Just… I don’t know, try and be more careful?” The frown grows into a wry little smile and maybe if TK wasn’t so shook from earlier he would have joked it away, but he nods seriously instead.

“I promise. I will always come back, always. Even if I leave.” It’s a painful reminder of TK walking out on Carlos a few months back, still making TK feel ashamed of how he acted. But things are different between them now and walking away from Carlos and from everything they have built together and are going to continue building, that is not an option anymore. “Good.” Carlos whispers and kisses his nose making TK smile. “I will always come back too. Always. I will fight every day to make that promise true.”

“Me too.” TK promises, takes their intertwined hands and kisses the promise into their hands, hoping that the day will never come where he doubts it, doubts them and their future. 

“We’re going to be okay.” Carlos promises and TK closes his eyes and rests his forehead on Carlos’, slowly starting to accept it. 

“Yeah.” TK whispers. 

“And so is Judd and Grace.” 

TK isn’t fully there yet where he dares believe it to be true, but he isn’t giving up hope that it’s all lost either. 

“So, how about a shower?” 

TK opens his eyes, yawns before he stretches, pops his back and nods.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Carlos helps him to his feet and in the bathroom they undress each other before they get in together. TK hums in content as the hot water washes over him and with it the last doubts he has about the future, down the drain where it belongs. As soon as Carlos joins him inside TK walks close, presses his body to Carlos’. It’s not sexual, but it’s a need, to have him near, to let the calmness of Carlos’ wash over him and bring with it a comfort only Carlos can bring out in him and judging by the harsh breath escaping Carlos’ he craves the contact almost as much as TK does. TK presses a soft kiss to Carlos’ heart and it grows comfortable between them. That’s until Carlos decides to squirt shampoo loudly on top of TK’s head, breaking them out of the moment. TK’s glare turns into a laugh and Carlos’s eyes sparkle, so very much alive and TK’s insides flutter.

They shower for longer than what they had planned and when they do make it back to the hospital, carrying food from a place Carlos knows to be one of Grace’s favourite takeaways he feels better, more hopeful and willing to believe that things will work out. Carlos’ hair is messy from TK running his fingers through it, but his arm is secure around TK’s waist and TK’s leaning on his shoulder, watching their family help unpack the bags.

And then Judd wakes up.

[kiirokero]

Emacity (PJM)

Emacity: The desire or fondness of buying

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!

Masterlist

Pairing: DeliveryBoy!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, mutual pining (kinda) 

Note: April will be my hibernation month lol

Summary: Whoever invented online shopping? A genius. Whoever hired Park Jimin to be the town’s delivery boy? An even bigger genius.

Word Count: 2.2k

      You wouldn’t call yourself a shopaholic. It’s not like you had an addiction to the point of needing an intervention. You knew what was a dumb purchase and what was a personal purchase. You actively searched high and low for coupons and discounts. You never bought something that you knew would end up in the garbage after one use. You were a responsible shopper. But shopping was like a hobby. 

      You were lucky enough to have the money to spoil yourself. You worked a well-paying job as a translator for businesses that are trying to branch out to new countries while also offering online language classes to international students. Switching between Korean, English, Spanish, AND French usually gave you a headache. And trying to translate a word that didn’t really exist in other languages was exhausting, but it paid well. 

And it gave you opportunities to see Jimin. 

      Park Jimin, Bangtan Village’s delivery boy. Worked at the post office seemingly 24/7 and is always voted employee of the month. Has a smile that’s permanently painted on his face and is as kind as a saint. What’s not to love about him? Besides that fact that his eyes sparkle with the same elegance as polished amber. Or the fact that his skin is perfectly smooth. Or that he emits an aura of confidence and stability. 

      Not that you know, but you can feel it. You and Jimin exchanged few words on the occasions when you get to see him. Simple, “Hey! How are you?” ’s and “Long time no see!” ‘s. But each word that reaches your ears are pieces of gold to you. You and Jimin didn’t really know each other, but you’d like to say that if you waved to him out in town, he’d wave back. 

      Your friend, Namjoon, liked to call you a lovesick idiot. Whenever you gushed to him about how Jimin smiled at you, he’d shake his head and say, “You’re a hopeless romantic and it’s tiring to me,” And today was like no other. 

      “I’m telling you, Namjoon! He has the cutest smile,” You sighed, watching your best friend work on his current project, Yoongi’s car. “I know, you’ve told me several times before,” He groaned, lifting his head from the machinery under the hood and looking at you with an unimpressed look. Absentmindedly wiping off his oily hands on his black stained hand towel. 

     “Why don’t you just talk to the dude? You know several languages yet you can’t communicate to a boy who speaks your native language?” He pointed out, leaning his hip up against the black car. “I may be able to chew you out in French, but I don’t speak ‘extrovert’” You argued back, a sly smirk on your face. 

    Namjoon rolled his eyes with a small smile, “You’re impossible,” He chuckled, “But you really should talk to him. You never know~ He may think you’re cute too~” He teased, dodging the spare hand towel you threw at him. “Stop teasing!” You whined, “You know I can’t, I’ll make a fool of myself and end up confessing to him in Spanish or something,” You groaned, slumping in your seat. 

     Namjoon tilted his head in confusion, “How do you accidentally switch to a whole other language,” He asked. “Trust me... It’s happened before...” You cringed, shivering at the less-than flattering memory. “Well... Maybe you should express it non-verbally?” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he went back to tampering with Yoongi’s car. 

      “I appreciate your advice, Joon, but I don’t think I can even work up the courage to confess, verbally or not.” You sighed, giving Namjoon a somber look to which he responded with a comforting smile. Namjoon went back to work and you checked the time on your phone. 2:22pm. 

    “Shoot, I gotta go,” You said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Why? I thought you didn’t teach on Wednesdays?” Namjoon asked, still working on the car. “I don’t but, I’m expecting a package,” You smiled to yourself. “You memorized when Jimin comes to deliver your packages? That’s kinda creepy Y/n,” Namjoon insinuated, squinting his eyes at you.

     You gasped, “Is not! I’ve just noticed that he always comes around 3pm... and I want to be there when my new keyboard comes.” You crossed your arms in defence. “Mhmm, go on then,” Namjoon chuckled, and you stomped your way out of his workshop back to your house. 

     You wait anxiously for a knock on your door. You sit on the couch, fiddling with the blanket that was draped over your lap. If you were being honest with yourself, you were more excited about seeing Jimin than getting your new peach-pink keyboard to complete your soft pastel desk setup. 

      You knew Namjoon was right about you being a lovesick idiot; you were in deep, and you haven’t even hung out with the man! You scoffed to yourself, shaking your head at the way his smile made your heart rate pick up and palms clammy. Maybe you could take Namjoon’s advice and invite him on a date. Not necessarily come completely clean and admit you were head over heels, but ease your way in instead.

Only problem is, you didn’t quite know how to do that...

      The long awaited knock finally sounded through your tiny house, and you stood up quicker than you should as blood rushed to your head, making you feel dizzy. Shaking it off, you go over to your door, opening it to reveal the very man you’ve been wanting to see all day. “Hey! What’s up Y/n?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, a small brown package under his arm. 

     “Hi Jimin, I’m doing good... What about you?” You asked, leaning up against the doorway. “I’m good, it’s a nice day out today,” He sighed, handing the package out for you, “Here you go! Your weekly package,” He joked, making you give him a lovesick smile that made you look like the woozy emoji. “T-Thanks,” You chuckled nervously. 

      “No problem,” Jimin said. “Hey um Jimin...” You called before he could walk away. “Yes?” Jimin inquired, raising an eyebrow. Shoot, what do you say? You didn’t think this through you.. You can’t just invite him out like a normal human, what if he says no? “I um- What’s your... favorite food...?” You asked, cringing at how pathetically shy you sounded. Jimin’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and he chuckled. “I like strawberry Pocky’s a lot,” He stressed, licking his lips at the thought. 

     You nodded, writing that down in your head for later. Maybe you could do something with this. “Cool, cool. Well, um, have a nice day!” You said, walking back into your house, package in hand, leaving Jimin confused and amused. “What a girl...” He whispers to himself, smile, like always, never leaving his face. 

     You continue to buy little things online just as an excuse to talk to Jimin. Who needs a mini cactus? You, apparently. And that chick plush you saw on Instagram? Boom, it now lives on your bed. Whenever he comes around, you take the opportunity to ask him questions like what his favorite color was or if he was allergic to anything. 

    You were planning something for him, and he was catching on. Sure, your questions were usually unprompted, but he’d humor you any day of the week. He may not know exactly what you were planning, but all he hoped was that it would change his life forever. And it would. 

     You were almost done with Jimin’s mini basket of favorites. A blue basket that held his favorite snack foods, stickers from his favorite shows, and some of those chunky rings he likes. Sure, maybe it was a bit excessive. Maybe this was teetering the line of weird and sweet, and you knew that bribing your way into a relationship was definitely not the way to go. But you just wanted to be nice. 

     Maybe buying things for others was your love language, or maybe Jimin was just worth spoiling. It was probably both. Whatever the real answer was, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted Jimin to be happy. 

     Even if meticulously fiddling with the basket made you want to pull your hair out as the bow never looked quite right. Realistically you know it wouldn’t matter in the end and that Jimin would likely take the bow off after he received it, but you still adjusted it until it was perfect. 

     “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Joon,” You sighed as you heard Namjoon hysterically laughing on the other side of the phone. “You’re going to bribe him into going on a date with you?” He asked, out of breath. “No! I just want to be nice,” You bit back, rolling your eyes even if Namjoon couldn’t see you. “Wow, the irony of Jimin delivering the gifts that your going to end up giving back,” Namjoon chuckled, finally calming down. 

     “Look, I’m just trying to follow your advice,” You whined, finally giving up on the navy blue bow and leaving it be. “True, I was thinking about a banner or something though. Like a cheesy promposal,” Namjoon said, and you could hear the undertones in his words. What he really wanted to say was, “How dramatic could you be? This is too much honey,” 

     Groaning, you flopped down on your couch, mumbling into the cushions. “I think I’m going to give it to him today, I have another mini cactus coming today,” You said, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness swirl in your stomach at the thought of finally asking the man you’ve been pining over out on a date. “That’s great! He’ll definitely say yes,” Namjoon said excitedly, trying to keep your fragile spirits intact. Knowing that if anything goes wrong, you’ll chicken out immediately. 

     “Yeah, I can do this,” You smiled, looking at the clock on your oven. “It’s 2:30, I have to go prepare. I’ll call you after!” You said, exchanging your goodbyes with Namjoon and hanging up the phone to go clean yourself up a little bit. 

    You weren’t terribly worried about your appearance. Jimin had seen you in coffee stained sweats and hoodies. There wasn’t anything worse than that. So you opted for a simple t-shirt and legging combo, washing your face and touching up your hair a bit. “Now to wait,” You whispered to yourself as you sat on the couch with the basket in your lap. 

     While you waited on the couch for Jimin to arrive, you looked at the mini cactus that sat on your coffee table and chuckled. Usually you bought things that may seem random to an outside person. A mouse that looks like a cat's paw, a throw pillow that doubles as a blanket, random earrings. But never a mini cactus. 

     After you asked all the questions you could think of and bought everything that you thought Jimin would like, you didn’t have an excuse to keep seeing Jimin. So, like a normal person, you bought little knickknacks. Hence the mini cactus and it’s new friend that’s on the way today. 

Knock knock knock

“Well, your new buddy’s here lil’ cactus dude,” 

     Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked over to the door, hiding the basket behind your back. “Hello, Y/n,” Jimin smiled as you opened the door for him. “Hey,” You smiled back, tightening your grip on the basket behind you. “Here you go, another odd stationary?” Jimin guessed as he held out the package for you and you took it with one hand, placing it down behind the door.

      “I guess you could say that,” You chuckled, nervously shifting on your feet. “Speaking of... I have something for you,” You mumbled, but loud enough for Jimin to hear. “Is it another impromptu question? You haven’t asked one in awhile,” He chuckled, his cute eyes upturning into crescents.

“Close your eyes to find out,” You said.

“Close my eyes? Is this the part where you murder me?” Jimin teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes. 

“No... just close them,” You whined. 

      “Alright, I’ll close them,” Jimin relented, closing his eyes at your request. Taking another shaky deep breath, you took the basket out from behind your back and held it in front of you. “Open...” You whispered. 

      Once Jimin opened his eyes, he let out a cute gasp, eyes lighting up at the sign of the gift. “W-What’s this?” He asked, looking up at you with a huge smile on his face. “It’s um, all your favorites. Jimin’s basket of favorites,” You declared, holding the basket out for Jimin to take, which he happily did. “Y/n, this is amazing. What’s the special occasion?” He asked, looking down at the assorted gifts and snacks. 

      “You’re always making me smile, so I wanted to return the favor,” You shrugged in an attempt to look casual about it. “Really? I make you smile?” Jimin smirked, making your cheeks heat up. “Y-Yeah you do...” You admitted, kicking at the rocks on your porch. “You’re such a sweet girl, Y/n, cute too,” Jimin whispered to you, causing your breath to hitch. 

“C-Cute?” 

“Yep, you’re a cutie,” Jimin said, booping your nose.

“Would you um... Let this cutie ask you out to lunch?” You asked. 

“Most definitely,”

“Park Jimin, do you want to grab lunch sometime?”

“It’s a date, cutie,”

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

White Lies (Pt. 06 of 21)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader

Word count: 2.2 K

Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.

But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.

<- Previous part (05)

Next part (07) ->

{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}

{John Wick Masterlist}

×

Being Held

“I don't care what you think, you'll do what's best for (Y/N).” Keanu didn't want to be this rude with Mrs. Davis, but she's giving him a hard time. The doctors have already spoken to her and she agreed on not telling (Y/N) the truth since her health and the baby's depend on it. But still, seating on the first floor's balcony, as (Y/N) showers and changes after the morning walk, Lucia doesn't seem very happy about it.

“Of course not, Mr. Reeves. Or whatever you fancy people rather be called. But this isn't fair, and it isn't right. Do you plan to have this going on for how long?” She raises her voice, what makes Keanu's heart skips a beat. He looks over his shoulder, just to make sure (Y/N) isn't anywhere near. “My son is dead, but this is his child. You can't steal it from him.”

“Everything I'm doing is to keep her healthy.” He whisper-yells, both hands resting on the circular wooden table as he stands up, bending forward, trying to look as intimidating as he can. He doesn't give a damn if Lucia is her mother-in-law and the child's grandmother, he won't let her do anything that may put (Y/N) or the baby in danger. “You weren't here. You didn't see how desperate and lost she was, but I did. Breaking the news to her may lead to a miscarriage. Is this what you want? To lose your grandchild?” He spits the words out, tired of this stupid conversation. This woman is an idiot, he thinks, because he knows she had a meeting with both Dr. Wright and Dr. Harris about (Y/N)'s situation. But Keanu's last words make the woman sink a little, eyes softening, but he can still see some anger. Lucia Davis doesn't like him, that much is clear. “I'm not trying to steal anything from your late son, I'm just–”

“Keanu?” Her soft, low voice calls from the inside, cutting his words short. He takes a deep breath before turning around, watching as she shyly walks to the balcony, curious eyes already looking for Mrs. Davis, and she stops when her eyes find her. “Hi.”

“(Y/N), this is Lucia Davis. Your mother's friend.” He says, reaching out his hands, which she quickly takes, moving to stand next to him. “You were somewhat close.”

With a hand on the small of her back, Keanu listens to the small greetings, thinking if he should go away now, unsure if it's safe to let Lucia alone with (Y/N). But he quickly remembers that the first floor bathroom is close by, with high windows that will allow the conversation to reach his ears. He doesn't want to spy on them, but this is (Y/N)'s health, and he'll do whatever is necessary.

“I'll take a shower.” He tells her in a low voice, offering a small smile when she nods. Placing a kiss on her forehead, Keanu touches her belly gently, at the same time shooting a hard glance at Mrs. Davis. It's a warning, a reminder of what's at risk of she opens her mouth. Then, he leaves, heading to the bathroom after quickly grabbing some clothes, the low voices successfully making their way inside the bathroom.

You're bouncing your leg lightly, wondering how long Keanu will take. This woman is weird, she hasn't stopped asking about your husband, if he's taking good care of you. At first, you thought she was a fan, but now... There's anger in her eyes, like she's pissed off. Ten minutes into the conversation and you want Lucia to go already.

“Has he ever tried to... Force you?” She asks, leaning forward on the table, across from you.

“What do you mean?” Sighing, you play with a strand of hair, twisting it around your finger.

“Has Keanu tried to get intimate with you?” Lucia speaks faster now, grabbing your hand over the table. “Because that's not ok. Even if... Even if you're married–” She spits the last word as if it's something disgusting. “–you don't remember him, so he can't force you to do anything. Don't let him trick you into it.”

“Mrs. Davis, Keanu has been amazing.” You repeat, the conversation draining your strength. “He hasn't forced me into anything. I'm still sleeping in the guest room and so it'll be as long as I want. He's giving me all the space and time I'll need to get things together.” You really hope she can't see you blushing, because there's heat spreading through your face. You haven't thought about any on this yet, and you do hope it won't get into your head. “I assure you everything is great. He's taking good care of me.”

She sighs, shaking her head slightly. “If he ever does anything you're not comfortable with, you call me and I'll take you with me to Argentina.”

A laugh escapes your lips because you can't believe your ears. “I'm not going to leave my husband.” You tell her, crossing your arms over your chest. “I'm completely fine, you don't have to worry about me.” The headache that had just vanished is starting to come back, and you begin rubbing your temples.

“I'm just–”

“Headache?” Keanu speaks suddenly, startling you a little just before you're filled with relief.

“Yeah.” He knows you well. “I think I'll take another pill and get some rest.” Hoping Lucia will get the hint, you stand up, taking Keanu's hand.

“Mrs. Davis, I'm sorry, but I think you should go now. The doctor's said (Y/N) has to rest whenever the headaches get bad.” He says, and you nod, giving the woman a small smile and a wave before heading inside.

That was beyond awkward, and you don't think you'll want to meet with her anytime soon. Making your way to the bedroom, you sit on the bed, back resting on the headrest. It's terribly hot in here, and you jump back to your feet just to push the two windows open before going back to bed. You were expecting Keanu to come to check on you, but long fifteen minutes or so pass by before you listen to his heavy footsteps, and then it doesn't take much until he's opening your door. You're fanning yourself with your hands, the wind coming in not enough to push the heat away.

“I didn't like her.” It's the first thing you say. “And she doesn't like you one bit.”

“I noticed.” Keanu sits next to you, furrowing his eyebrows. “It's probably the age thing.”

“What age thing?” As you speak, you get irritated, pulling your hair off of your shoulders and pinning it above your head with both hands. “Damn it, why am I so hot?”

For some reason, it amuses Keanu, who smiles. “It's called a hot flash.” You were just about to snap at his smirk, but when he leans forward and blows on your neck, the fresh sensation makes you close your eyes and relax just a little bit.

“That's so good.” You mutter, closing your eyes. Then, an idea flashes through your head. “Oh! Go get some ice cubes.”

“Ice cubes?” He asks, quite uncertain.

“Yeah. I had an idea.” Playfully, you give his leg a light kick, smiling when he gives in and stands up.

A couple of minutes later your husband is back with a glass bowl full of ice. You're still fanning yourself and the moment he sits on the bed, you take two cubes, one in each hand, placing them on your neck. “Damn, this is good.” Giggling, you close your eyes to take in the cool sensation against your burning skin. “Help me out.” You ask him, eyes opening again to give him a look. “If you want of course.”

He hesitates a little, eyes lingering on you before he takes an ice cube too. “Where?”

“Uhm...” Thinking for a while, you sigh. “Here on my chest.” Pinching his eyebrows together, he hesitates again. “C'mon, I'm burning up.” With your hands slightly wet from the melting ice, you put the thin straps of your shirt down your shoulders a little. A smile comes to your lips when he finally gives in, softly brushing the cube on your skin, bellow the collarbones. “Thanks.” You mutter, feeling as the heat slowly starts to fade. “What was that you said before? The age thing?”

Keanu sighs, eyes on his current task as you run the cubes through your neck. “Some people are very judgmental about the age difference between us.” He starts, and you're sure he gets a little sad. “It got me thinking too, of course. You definitely should be with someone your age so–”

“Yeah, but here we are.” Deciding to cut him off, you stare at him even though he won't look at you. “I can't speak for myself before, but whoever I was, I married you. So it's probably everything you gotta know about it. And now...” Maybe you shouldn't say it, but you know it's true. And when his eyes meet yours, filled with doubt, and something you've never seen before, you know you have to say it. Keanu needs to know where you stand now because this is like a forced restart. “...I find it really hot.” Muttering, you feel a different kind of heat spreading through your body.

Keanu's lips break into a smile, and a soft giggle reaches your ears. You absolutely love the sound, it makes you want to kiss him. Wait, what? You knew that what Lucia said would somehow get into your head, but you never thought it would be that fast.

“You know what else is hot?” Keanu asks as you pull the ice cubes away, throwing them back in the bowl Keanu placed on the nightstand.

“What?” You inquire, wondering if there's a joke coming your way.

“This,” Keanu answers, tilting his chin slightly, pointing out at you. Now your burning again, cheeks red for sure, looking away from him.

“Don't tease the pregnant woman, Keanu.” You warn him, voice suddenly and unexpectedly weak. “Lucia also said that she'd take me to Argentina with her. As if.” You didn't want to bring her back into the conversation, but you're willing to talk about anything else, eager to calm yourself down and get rid of the thoughts of kissing Keanu.

“If you want to go, you know I won't stop you, right?” He puts the ice cube away, and you sigh, turning your attention back at him. “I'm sure she'd take good care of you.”

“I doubt that. She'd never rub ice cubs on me.” Taking his hand, you give it a little squeeze. “I'm happy, Ke. Living here with you is great. There's a lot to get used to and a lot of things to work on but... This is good. I feel good and safe with you around.”

The smile he has on it's amazing, beautiful. It's the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. “This makes me happy too.” He mutters, bringing his free hand to caress your cheek.

“So don't worry. As if I was going to leave the father of my child behind.” Changing to a joking tone, you place his hand on your belly. “I don't even speak Spanish.”

He giggles again, but soon enough Keanu gets all serious. “You have no idea how much it means to me that... That you're feeling fine. Happy...”

It's true that sometimes you even forget about the accident. It never lasts for more than a couple of minutes, but it means that you can move on from it. But you don't think the same happens with Keanu. You feel like the accident is everything he thinks about, and you hope that taking care of you isn't overwhelming to him. You wish there was something you could do to ease his burden.

“Ke, I... I really want us to work out. If I remember or if I don't, I want things to be completely, one hundred percent fine here.” Moving to sit on your legs, standing closer to him, you touch both his shoulders. “You worry too much. And I get it. My body is still recovering, and there's the baby too, but... I don't want it to become too much and... Ruin things.”

“You're not ruining anything, beautiful, I promise.” With his index finger under your chin, Keanu makes you look into his eyes. “I'm doing this because I love you. I worry because I love you. And nothing will change that. It's not too much, I can do this.”

“Alright, but... Share things with me, you know. Let me help as much as I can being... Well... Like this.” There's a lump in your throat, and you feel tears starting to form in your eyes.

“Hey, don't cry. Come here” Keanu gently pulls you into his arms, and you don't even try to fight it. You had planned this, you decided to fall for him again, but you didn't know your feelings would start to grow by themselves, without you having to force them. You want him, you want to be in his arms, so you don't think much before placing your legs over his, allowing him to hold you. This is everything you need right now, everything you want, to be held by him.

×

@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303

[sapphirelycoris]

𝑃𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑃𝑡. 𝟸 (𝑆𝑒𝑚𝑖-𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊)

A/N: Here’s the second part of Pure Serendipity, it’s not as romantic or fluffy. I had to cut the spiciness kind of short because I feel like the way I write smut isn’t very good so I didn’t dive into detail. I do, however, write personal smut for myself but I don’t think it’d appeal to other people. I digress...

Part 1 Synopsis- Ushijima x fem!reader (your, you, she, her, wife, female anatomy)

What goes down after the dinner party with his co-workers.

Warnings: (I did make you a very light drinker, I have a friend who gets a really bad headache after just one drink so she’s usually the first one to call it quits with alcohol.) Spiciness towards the end. The rest is up to your imagination.

After a long night of fun conversation, laughter, and more champagne than you probably should’ve drunk, it was time to go home. He politely said goodbye to his co-workers and helped you stand up. At least they were very drunk with you only being slightly tipsy, so you weren’t the only one making a fool of themselves. 

Ushijima caught your arm as you stumbled out of the restaurant. He wrapped his hand around your waist, trying to support you. The poor man sighed and gently pushed you forward. He grunted while struggling to get the seat belt secured. Before closing the door, he made sure that he would not close it on one of your limbs. Ushijima slid into the driver’s seat and gave you a trash bag, just in case you were going to throw up. Luckily you were more of a tired drunk than anything. 

He was such a considerate husband and knew most of your habits. There was already a water bottle in the car door at your disposal. 

Red and white lights illuminated your sleeping face as your head hung low. If it weren’t for the seat belt, you surely would have hit your head on the dashboard. You could vaguely tell how far from home you were. Each turn felt familiar. Even with how out of it you were, he couldn’t help but admire pretty you looked tonight. 

You jolted at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder, “(Name), were home.” He said in a hushed tone.

“Oh.” You undid the seatbelt and pushed yourself out of the passenger’s seat.

Cold water escaped the corners of your mouth, running down your neck and onto the furniture. It had been a tiring day at work and with stressing all week about the dinner; you were ready to fall down and sleep the morning away in your husband’s arms.

“Thank you.” You took the water bottle out of his hand and downed about half of it.

“Of course. You need to eat too.” Ushijima handed you a plate of sliced up bananas to get some potassium in you. Unfortunately, you weren’t the best drinking buddy, you had to stop before you started acting stupid. It very took little to get you truly drunk, so the two of you made sure to watch your alcohol intake. 

“This is probably the most unsexy way to eat this fruit” You snickered, gratefully taking the plate. The soft texture in your mouth made you feel better, “They kept filling up my cup, and I didn’t realize how bad I was until it was too late.” 

Ushijima chuckled in a low tone, “At least you stopped before you got alcohol poisoning.” 

You started bursting out laughing, holding your stomach with your hand. Was it really that funny? His mouth formed a crooked smile. Seeing you laugh was always good. The sentence itself wasn’t funny, alcohol poisoning was a serious thing (he got nervous every time you over did it) but you were still tipsy and most everything was amusing. 

As always, you took a cold shower if you had too much to drink that pushed your limits. Ushijima was still up, taking care of some work related things. He came back into the bedroom about the same time you were stepping out of the bathroom. He slid off his nice navy jacket and placed it neatly on the chair. His tie was laid perfectly on the table as he unbuttoned his white shirt. He had yet to notice you, leaning up against the door frame. In one swift movement, his shirt slowly revealed his broad back, his strong shoulder blades shifting with each movement of his arms.

Quietly, you snuck in front of him and slid your arms around his waist. The only thing between him and your body was a bathrobe that could be easily undone.

“‘Toshi.” You traced his collarbones. 

“Hmm?” That deep voice was intoxicating and you could listen to it for hours. 

“so you know we’ve been talking about kids...” His lovely olive eyes were solely focused on your face, “I think it’s time we started trying.” 

Your words couldn’t have come soon enough. 

All at once, the lights were dimmed, creating a near pitch black room with only the moonlight peeking through the curtains. You sat excitedly on the edge of the bed, falling back to moment he came running back to you. His kisses weren’t usually so feverish and rough, nor did his hand have such a firm grip on the back of your head. 

The two of you were eager to have sex, feeling each other’s bodies with impatience hands. Because of his subordinates’ incompetence lately, he had to work overtime and when he worked from home; he was always stuck in his office. Needless to say, both of you were feeling sexually frustrated lately, and it was hard for him to not just fuck the shit out of you right away.

Skillfully, his fingers aided your bathrobe in coming undone, exposing your chest. Instead of tearing it off right then and there, he brought you down to the floor with him. The floor-length mirror in the corner wasn’t for nothing after all. It was for looking at yourself to see how you appeared. A long time fantasy had been to be fucked right in front of one. He wanted you to see everything that he saw; to show off how in love he was with your whole being. 

Ushijima’s finger traced your jaw line as he peppered kisses on your neck. You trembled a bit, rolling your head to the side and guiding his free hand up and down your body. His hand brushed up against your back, causing a little arch. He left a little mark on your skin, which you didn’t mind. 

The sleeves of your bathrobe fell off your shoulders at the command of Ushijima’s hand. His pace slowed down because he wanted this moment to last. The long awaited feeling of his hands on your breasts was better than you imagined. Lonely nights in the bed didn’t give you much motivation for self pleasure, so your body had been deprived of any attention lately.

“Wakatoshi...” Your exposed back pressed into his upper body, timing your breathing with his. 

A bad habit of Ushijima’s was being kind of silent during foreplay. He silently trailed his hands down to your stomach, lightly brushing over your skin. If he successfully bred you, then soon that stomach would swell up with his child growing inside. Small gasps escaped your lips as he teased your inner thighs. You bit the inside of your lip, closing your eyes as he made contact with your pussy. 

You slammed your head back into his chest, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the feeling. By now, he knew what made you squirm and how to please you. His middle finger ran over your soaking cunt, the wetness making a mess on your inner thighs. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been paying attention to you lately. I’ll make it up to you tonight.” He whispered in a low tone, putting more strength into each stroke.

I keep telling myself that worst smut has been written, so keep that in mind as well. I didn’t look up “how to write a sex scene” for nothing. I’ll work on getting better at it but I hope you enjoyed this!

[thisbrokenmask]

Relax

pairing: female reader x min yoongi

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 2,205

rating: PG

warnings: none? very brief description of yoongi’s magic hands, fluff

summary: you come home stressed from work, but your boyfriend has an idea of how to help you relax

a/n: I haven’t published anything in a while (mainly because I’ve been working on a potential series behind the scenes!) but I couldn’t not write this idea, so here’s some soft yoongles ♡

visit my masterlist here 

Even closing your apartment door behind you isn’t enough to melt the tension from your shoulders. You’ve only been back in the office for a few weeks, your position as a manager meaning you’re one of the few people called back in for meetings - socially-distanced ones, though, of course - but all the additional precautions have made it so much more stressful. 

Not only that, you hadn’t realised how much using public transport again after nearly a year of working from home would affect you. Even with everyone else wearing face coverings and trying to keep as much distance as possible, being in an enclosed space with strangers had put you on edge, especially when you’d gotten so used to only being with one other person. 

You don’t remember ever feeling so tired back when you were doing your commute every day, when your days were busier, but right now you’re exhausted. Being constantly aware of the distance between you and your colleagues, washing your hands all the time, and sanitising everything had kept you on edge for the last two weeks, and now it feels like it’s all hitting you like a train. 

A heavy sigh escapes your chest as you remove your coat and push off your shoes before storing them away and walking further into the apartment. You can see Yoongi’s laptop sat on his desk, the screen black and the fan silent. Your boyfriend, however, is nowhere to be seen, which is unusual.

You’re used to having to gently remind him his work hours are technically over when you coax him to join you for dinner, his mind so tuned into his work that he easily loses track of time, but today he seems to have signed off on time.

You peek into the kitchen as you walk past, but Yoongi’s not there. You feel a wave of dread wash through you at the prospect of cooking dinner, wanting to just curl up under a blanket for the rest of the evening and sleep away the heaviness in your body, preferably with your boyfriend beside you. 

You find Yoongi leaning back against the headboard when you enter the bedroom, already dressed in his sweatpants and a loose t-shirt as he scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you come in, eyes already lighting up in a smile to greet you before he sees the dejected expression on your face, a frown pushing down his lips instead. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, putting his phone down and getting up from the bed, walking round it to stand in front of you. You feel some of your stress start to soften under the warmth of his hands when they wrap around the tops of your arms, but he can still see the tiredness in your eyes and the furrow of your brow. “Bad day at work?”

“Not really,” you say with a heavy sigh, feeling another crack form in the tautness that’s built up in your muscles when his thumbs start to rub gentle circles into your biceps. “Work was fine, it’s just- I thought I’d love being back in the office again, but all these rules and regulations make it so stressful!” You lean into Yoongi’s chest and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your cheek, like the rhythm could easily send you to sleep if you laid against him long enough. 

Yoongi’s arms wrap around your shoulders and he holds you close. He knows how excited you were to go back to your office, to break up the monotony of the four walls of your apartment and to see your colleagues in person again rather than through your laptop screen, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy, either. He’s seen the frustration start to seep in over the last few days and has tried his best to distract you with Netflix and cuddles when you come home, but it seems like tonight he has to bring out the big guns. 

“I know it’s tough, baby,” he murmurs gently, keeping his voice soft and low in the way that he knows you find comforting. “I’m so proud of you for going back to the office, though. I know you’re working so hard.” One hand stays on your back, his large palm pressing warmth through your clothes, but it’s when the other finds its way to the back of your head, gently massaging your hair, that Yoongi gets an idea. 

“Tell you what,” he says, pulling away to look down at you. “Why don’t you go and have a nice hot shower, wash all that tension away, and I’ll take care of you tonight, yeah? We can order from that Japanese place you love, maybe put on a film or two, see where the night takes us...” You laugh when he quirks his eyebrows at you, his signature flirty smirk pressing at his lips, and he’s happy to see a bit of life coming back to your eyes. 

“Hmm, a hot shower does sound good,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a slight squeeze. 

“Good,” Yoongi smiles, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead before he gently turns you towards the bathroom, pressing kisses to your temple as he slowly walks you forward, the two of you awkwardly shuffling with his chest pressed against your back and his arms around your waist. “You take your time, yeah? And I’ll be here when you get out. Anything you want tonight, it’s yours, okay? I wanna help you relax.”

You lean your head back against him, finally feeling your shoulders start to relax and your headache starting to ease. 

“What did I do to deserve you, hm?” you ask, letting your hands come to rest over the top of his. 

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Yoongi hums, gently nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “Just being you is more than enough.” He presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, lips lingering reverentially on your skin before adding quietly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, the words still tasting as sweet on your tongue as they did all those months ago when you said them for the first time. The two of you revel in the silence for a few further moments, your cheeks pressed together with Yoongi resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Go on, now,” he murmurs quietly, not wanting to break the spell by speaking too loudly. “You go have your shower, and I’ll get some stuff set up for when you get out, okay?”

“Okay,” you step out of Yoongi’s hold but keep a hold on one of his hands, turning to press a quick kiss to his knuckles. “Thanks, Yoongs.”

You let yourself stand under the shower for longer than normal, letting the hot water flow over you until you really feel your muscles start to relax, washing your frustrations down the drain. The room is filled with the scent of your favourite jasmine-scented body wash by the time you step out, the mirror fogged over from the steam, but you feel lighter, happier, than you have done in days. 

You’re surprised to find the bedroom is bathed in a soft glow when you come back. The main light has been switched off in favour of several small clusters of candles that have appeared around the room, some perched on your dresser, some on Yoongi’s bedside table; there’s even a few small tealights lined up along the windowsill. 

Yoongi is crouched down on your side of the bed and for a second you think he’s trying to (badly) hide from you, but then you hear a small click and he stands back up, your hairdryer in his hand rather than beside your vanity table where it normally lives. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, but your boyfriend only smiles as he puts the appliance down on the bed. 

“I’m gonna dry your hair for you,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you can’t help but grin. 

“Oh, are you now?” you tease, watching him grab your fluffiest dressing gown and come over to you.

“Yeah, I am,” he says as he holds the robe open for you, guiding your arms through the correct holes and leaning over your shoulder to tie it up for you. 

“I can do this myself, Yoongs,” you tease. He shrugs. 

“I know, but I said I was gonna take care of you, so I am. Now, drop the towel.” 

His tone is teasing and playful but his eyes are soft and affectionate, a small smile on his lips as he keeps his eyes on yours. Even when you unwrap your towel and let it drop to the floor from under your robe, he doesn’t try to sneak a peek at your body underneath, and you realise he’s in his caregiving mode: he won’t let you lift a finger unless he can’t do it for you. 

“Sit on the bed, jagi,” he says as he quickly scoops it up and puts it on top of the laundry basket, his gentle instruction allowing you to fully relinquish all thought and responsibility for a while. He comes back over to you, grabbing your hairbrush along the way, and motions for you to scootch forwards so he can sit behind you. 

“Tell me if it pulls or anything, okay?” 

Yoongi’s hands are careful as he gently takes a section of your hair, gently running the brush down the length and being cautious not to let it catch on any tangles as he goes. The repeated motions become relaxing, his fingers gently caressing your head as he separates out each section, humming quietly as he does so. Once he’s happy with the one section, he moves onto the next, slowly working through your hair until he’s happy it’s all smooth and ready for him to dry. 

“Not too hot?” he asks over the low hum of the hairdryer. It’s switched to its lowest setting to keep the volume down and to avoid messing your hair up, but it’s just hot enough to keep you cosy and warm without feeling like it could burn if it’s held in place too long. You nod your approval when Yoongi tests it against your hair and he gently shifts so that his legs are either side of you, his thighs against your waist in an intimate embrace. 

Just as he brushed your hair, Yoongi is methodical but careful as he dries your hair. He guides the heat down the length of your hair as he brushes it, the heat following the brush down to the ends before starting again near your roots. 

You feel your eyes beginning to get heavier, slowly slipping closed until you’re almost dozing at the hands of your boyfriend. You’re keenly aware of how talented Yoongi’s hands can be, from his effortless piano playing to his talented cooking, and especially the ways he can keep you in the throes of pleasure for hours at a time. He’s always careful with you, almost reverential of your body even when he takes a leading role in the acts of your bedroom, eyes gazing over you as if he’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life and he can’t believe he gets to touch you. 

But this is yet another seemingly hidden talent of his and you’re almost mad at yourself for never thinking to ask for this before. 

You definitely will after this. 

“You okay, baby?” Yoongi’s voice is still low, a murmur that you can feel rumble against your back as he leans in closer to you, and you realise that the hairdryer has been turned off and laid to one side. 

All you can manage is a satisfied hum, leaning back further to snuggle into Yoongi’s chest, and he chuckles. 

“Think you can stay awake for a film? Or do you wanna go to bed?”

“Just wanna be with you,” you reply, perfectly content to be wherever your boyfriend is, although you’re pretty sure he will have to move you if he wants to go anywhere other than the bed. Your body is so full of warmth and comfort that you feel as if your bones have melted, your muscles heavy; you don’t think you could get up and walk through to the living room even if you tried. 

Yoongi seems to sense this, carefully laying you down before grabbing your favourite pyjamas, gently guiding your limbs into them and tucking you under the blankets before climbing in beside you. As he coaxed you over to lay against his side with your head on his chest (not that you need much coaxing to lay in your favourite position), he says, “we can stay here for a bit, and I’ll order food once you’re awake.”

“Not gonna sleep,” you protest, words half-slurred with your cheek pressed up against him. “Just gonna rest my eyes for a bit.” Yoongi can’t help but laugh softly. 

“Okay, jagiya, whatever you say.” He strokes your hair with one hand and you’re asleep by the time he’s picked up his phone with the other.

this work is my own, no reposting, republishing or plagiarism of any kind on any platform will be tolerated

[jawritter]

Together

Request: Hey! Can I request a Jensen x reader where reader is pregnant. Plot is like can you write experience in like 3rd or 4th month? Everyday Jensen stays with reader in bathroom when she had morning sickness. Then goes with her for vitamin shots. Reader panics in the doctors room, so doctor lefts so that Jensen will calm her down. He stays with her through full experience, then time gap and direct delivery room experience? Where reader curses Jensen but they have a son and everything's lovey again❤️

Warnings: Angst I guess? Stressed Reader, Reader in labor, shameless misuse of pregnancy and labor terms probably, even though I’ve had two kids I’m no doctor. lol. Language, fluff, I think that’s it. 

Word Count: 1867

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much hun!! ❤️

A/N: I hope this is okay anon!! It’s a little different from the request, but that's the way I saw it in my head lol. Every pregnancy is different guys! This is a fictional one shot! Not everyone needs the things the reader had to have in this fic! Also it doesn't matter how the baby gets here! Moms are power, strong, and awesome beings who deserve to be treated like the Gods they are!! Feedback is gold guys! Let me know what you think! Hope you all enjoy this one!! Flashbacks are broken off in sections, and in italics!

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

“Okay, calm down Y/n,” you say to yourself as you pace the floor of your bedroom, waiting on Jensen to get there so that you could go to the hospital. Your phone is held out in front of you, the contraction counting app on your phone informing you that your contractions had in the last hour gone from 7 to 10 minutes apart, to 3 to 4 minutes apart. 

You had already called your doctor, and they said it was a good idea for you to go ahead and leave for the hospital. The only problem was, Jensen wasn’t there yet, and you were starting to panic.

He was filming late tonight. Even though he said in the text message he’d just sent that he’d be there in 10 minutes, you could feel the worry grip you tight in your chest. 

10 minutes…

That’s at least two, maybe three more contractions on your own without him.

They were getting stronger in length and intensity, to the point where you had to breathe through them, and also had to stop your pacing. 

You could already feel the beginnings of the next contraction. The uncomfortable tightening in your stomach letting you know it was coming, increasing in discomfort as the contraction peaked.

You tried to remember the breathing exercises you had learned in the birthing classes, and you knew that the contractions were only going to get a lot stronger, that this was just the beginning. 

You wanted to try and have a completely natural, drug free delivery.

Well it seemed like a good idea at the time, but as the strongest contraction you have had so far peaked , you were starting to rethink the whole epidural thing. 

Picking up your phone as your contraction started to ease up, you pressed the pause button on your phone counter and hurriedly dialed Jensen’s number, needing to hear his voice more than anything else right now. Your anxiety gripped at you tighter and tighter with each passing second.

“Baby, I’m on my way, five more minutes and I’ll be there, just hang tight okay.” Jensen’s voice came through the speaker, calm and deep as always. The man had a resolve of fucking monk, and it got under your skin in ways you couldn’t even describe at the moment.

“That’s not fast enough Jensen! This baby is coming, and I’m here by myself, so fuck you, and don’t you tell me to fucking calm down!” you yell at him through the phone, hormones and adrenaline making you a little more snappy at him then you had ever been in your life.

“Babe, easy, don’t stress out the baby. I will be there in plenty of time. The bags are already packed, and waiting for us in the car, all we have to do is get in it and go. Everything is going to be just fine! Have I ever left you alone throughout this whole pregnancy? You're gonna be just fine sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

He was right, and you knew he was. You instantly felt bad for yelling at him. 

He’d been with you through everything. 

When the morning sickness didn’t let up in the 3rd month, but instead stretched on in the fourth month he was right there…

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

Closing the toilet seat you flushed away the evidence of your morning sickness, and leaned your head back against the cool, porcelain of the bathtub next to you, taking deep breaths through your nose, trying to stave off the next wave of nausea that was already pulling at your senses. 

“Easy sweetheart, deep breaths,” Jensen said, as he sat down on the tub, running his fingers through your hair, gathering it up and pulling it up into a ponytail for you, before placing a cool, damp rag on your face.

“They said the second trimester was supposed to be the good trimester Jay! All this morning sickness was supposed to be over by now!!”

You were not only sick, but frustrated . This pregnancy had been hard, and this was the sickest you had ever been in your life. In these moments, it was hard to keep sight of the goal, which was a healthy baby and just soldier through it. Especially when the sickness had lasted this long for you.

“Remember what the doctor said? All these pregnancy symptoms, the morning sickness, the headaches, the fatigue, it’s all a sign that the baby is healthy and growing. We got an appointment for tomorrow to check on everything.  Right now, let’s just get something in your stomach so it will settle. I’ll go grab some crackers. That seemed to help some yesterday.”

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

Jensen stayed on the phone with you until he got there, and true to his word everything was packed and ready to go. 

He even had a towel on the seat waiting for you, just in case your water broke. You hadn’t even thought about that.

The ride to the hospital was quite uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared to the next 20 hours. 

When you got to the hospital, the contractions were 3 to 2 minutes apart, they decided to keep you, since you were four centimeters dilated, and you were 100 % effaced. 

From that point on, the contractions became almost intolerable, and just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, they got even worse.

The only problem was you weren’t progressing. 

You were still at 4 centimeters. The baby was still very high in positioning, and it just wasn’t going anywhere. 

You had tried everything. Walking as much as you could, sitting on a birthing ball, peanuts pillows between your legs, everything. Nothing had helped!! 

Now the doctors were talking about things that just weren’t in your birth plan. Epidurals, possible c-sections… Things you just didn’t want to do. 

You were upset, you were exhausted, and you were angry, especially at Jensen.

“Baby girl, you’re so fucking amazing, and taking an epidoral will help not only you, but the baby rest as well. If your body can relax you can progress without the help of pitocin, and hopefully avoid a section.”

“Fuck you Jensen. You know this is not how I planned for this to go! How can you just suggest I just give up! You know how I feel about needles.”

There it was. The real reason you hated the idea of having the epidural. Your irrational fear of needles.

“Baby girl. Remember when you got really, really sick during this pregnancy? You had to go have those vitamin shots? They helped didn’t they? Baby, this will help to.Please, I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Looking into his jade, slightly bloodshot eyes from exhaustion, you could see he was telling you the trust, that he was genuinely worried about you. He’d not slept any in over 48 hours, combined with work, and now this labor dragging on. Still, he never once complained.

Your mind drifted back to those vitamin shots he was talking about, and he was right, they did help.

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

“Mrs. Ackles, you're going to have to stay calm.  It’s not that bad of a shot, I promise you. You will barely even feel it.” 

The doctor was quickly losing his patience  with your hysterical state, and you could tell , but you people just don’t understand what it’s like to fear something so completely, that you can’t see past it the way you did about needles. Your anxiety didn’t help you either. 

“Let me talk to her.” Jensen said, coming over to your side, and wrapping his arms around as you buried your face into his shoulder, body still shaking with the fear that was gripping you.

You heard the door to the room close , and you felt Jensen’s lips brush the top of your forehead. His strong hands rubbing up and down your back in an attempt to sooth you.

“Baby girl, it’s gonna be okay. This will help you, and the baby. If you're not well, the baby isn’t well either. He depends on you to get his nutrients. You both need this. It’s one little pinch and that’s it. Then you will feel so much better.”

“I know Jay. I’m just terrified, and I can’t calm down.”

Jensen tightened his grip around you, one large hand coming down over your stomach. A comforting, grounding weight in the midst of all your anxiety induced confusion.

“I’ll be right here the whole time.” 

You heard the door open, and the doctor and nurse reentered the room.

“You just keep your face buried where it’s at, and it will be over before you know it. I’m not going to let anything hurt you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Okay.” you finally agreed to let them give you the vitamin shot. Burying your face closer into his shoulder, and breathing his scent in deeply. 

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

The vitamin shot did help, and it wasn’t even that bad. 

Your fears at the time were irrational, and you knew that was the case now.

It didn’t make you any less of a woman to have an epidural. It didn’t make you weak, or any less of a Mom, and you knew that. It was just your fear. 

But Jensen was here, and he would always be here. Even though you had been hard on him, he was right here, and you knew he’d protect you with everything in you.

“Okay, okay, let’s do the epidural.” you said, almost in defeat. Jensen’s lips came to meet yours in a quick peck. Relief evident on his face. 

“Okay baby girl. Let’s get you some relief.”

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

The epidural wasn’t as near as bad as you thought, and it did allow not only your body to rest and progress, but also for Jensen, as well as you, to get about three hours of much needed sleep. 

You were even well enough rested to go through the whole process of birth a little clearer, and not in as much pain. The two of you bringing your little miracle man in the world together. 

Jensen never left your side throughout the whole delivery, and even now that he was here, sitting as close to you as possible with his arm thrown around your shoulders, holding the both of you as you nursed your new little miracle. 

“You did it sweetheart. He’s perfect.” Jensen said, placing a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there longer than needed.

“No Jay. We did it together, and I’m sorry I was such a bitch during the delivery,” you told him, resting your head against his shoulders. 

Jensen’s deep chuckle next to you made you smile a little, as he remembered some of the things labor made you say to him.

“If we ever have another one, I’m wearing a cup just to be on the safe side.” 

You had never felt so close to him in all of your life. This had brought you both into a deeper level of love and respect. One that you didn’t even know existed. 

No matter what you had to face raising this baby boy, you’d do it the way he came into this world. 

Together. 

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

Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ 

[lihikainanea]

does tiger ever have those days where absolutely nothing is going right and absolutely everything is pissing her off? the kind of day where she lets everything get so pent up that, like, her pen falling onto the floor prompts a breakdown? classes just started up for me and i don’t even have that much work yet, but that’s how i feel.

Oh man, the mood this week is fussy friends.

And I think, selfishly so, that when tiger is having a week where nothing is going right, that’s kind of her default state.

It doesn’t even have to be anything big, you know? I think sometimes we all just get a bit overwhelmed, and something that we usually have no problem handling all of a sudden becomes a huge deal and we just...we just can’t.

Those quiet fussy days are just the worst. Tiger is completely in her own head, and there’s no major reason that provoked it. She’s had a lump in her throat all day, and she just feels like she’s one more mildly shitty instance away from just bursting into tears. She’s frowning, that little raincloud over her head and her brow pinched in concern, she has a headache, she just doesn’t feel well at all and she’s angry and fidgety and on edge but also sad and emotional. There’s just so many feelings, all of them buzzing with intensity in her and she can’t quiet them. She can’t sit still.

And it’s all just snowballing on her, as Bill quietly hovers in the distance keeping an eye on all of it. He’s going to step in, he just needs to finish one or two things so that he can really devote all of his attention to her. And he needs to....let her get a little worse, actually. It sounds weird to say, but Bill needs her to get just a little worse so that when he steps in, she’s more open to it. She’ll let him help. She’s steadfastly working herself into an awful state, and it’s the little things. She’ll forget her phone in the living room, but when she goes to get it then she leaves her coffee mug in the living room and has to go back. She made a to-do list, but she can’t remember where she put it. Her pen runs out of ink in the middle of an important Skype meeting. She can’t find her other sock. Her favourite sweater is in the laundry bin but there’s not enough dirty clothes to actually do laundry.

It’s all very minor, but it’s just all wrong and tiger is getting increasingly more fussy and upset and is just this little black cloud of negativity.

And Bill, bless his heart. He knows to be soft about it, when she’s like this. Usually tiger needs that gentle but firm dominance, something louder than her brain that can shut it up, but nothing harsh enough to have her crawling for her safety closet. Unless she sasses him, unless she’s in full brat mode--when she’s genuinely fussy, Bill needs to be gentle. Firm and dominating, but gentle.

And I’ll bet when that crease in her forehead gets a little deeper, when her lips are permanently pursed in a frown, he’ll clear his throat and step in.

And he won’t even say anything. Not a word. But he’ll square his shoulders, set his jaw, and then he’ll flick her on switch: he’ll snap his fingers.

Tiger’s attention sets on him immediately, and the way her body sags just a little in relief is not lost on him. She watches him with big eyes, fixated on him, waiting for his instructions.

Bill is still silent, but there’s no mistaking the way the air is shifting. When Bill is in charge, tiger knows it. She feels it immediately--he just has that presence about him.

Two fingers wag her over and she rises instantly, makes her way to him. She stops when she’s in front of him and she knows what to do next--but she wants him to tell her.

One long finger, slender and elegant, points to the floor. Tiger sinks slowly to her knees like the good girl she is for him.

He sighs, resting his hands in his pockets. His poor girl, she really works herself into a complete meltdown sometimes--but god, his heart melts when he can step in like this for her. He lets the silence hang heavy for a minute, lets her just rest there on her knees where her mind shuts up a bit, and he just looms over her. He lets her register how big he is, how small she is on the floor like that in front of him, this glorious feeling of submission, of being on her knees in front of him without a single word ever being spoken. All of that--it plays on her mind, and it helps her. Just the very act of being on her knees, of being put gently on her knees and of having a strong, soft but dominating force challenging her is just...it’s bliss. Bill can see her start to relax already. Her eyes close briefly, her breathing is getting much deeper and more steady, and her shoulders are not all bunched up by her ears.

“Eyes up,” he commands--and it’s soft, but it’s firm. It’s an unmistakable order, and her eyes snap to his. And that pleading look she gets, that soft but desperate look that is reserved only for him--it buckles his knees, every time.

And you know, part of him wants to punish her. He wants to punish her for not coming to him and telling him that she needed his help to calm down, but in actuality--when tiger is fussy like this, she can’t come to him for help. Because that is just one more thing she needs to take charge of and handle for herself, which is exactly what spiralled her into this headspace to begin with. Punishing her for that would be completely counter productive. When she’s deep in her own head like this, she relies on Bill to step in without her having to ask. That’s what she needs from him.

But Bill also recognizes that when she’s like this, a light spanking really does help her. It just helps her mind go a little more blank, helps her relax, helps her get back on track. It helps her throw all of her worries at HIM, to let go of them and put them in his hands and his care, so he can handle them.

“That head of yours,” he murmurs, “It’s a mess today, isn’t it?”

She’s stoic, just staring up at him with those big eyes. He sets his jaw sternly, and grabs a firm hold of her chin.

“Answer me,” he reminds her, and she snaps out of it.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she mumbles quietly, “And....yes.”

He rests a thumb on her lips and she exhales a deep sigh, kissing it lightly, and he pushes it inside.

“Are you going to let me fix it, sweet girl?” he asks her, “Let me worry about it?”

She nods, and he uses his other fingers to stroke lightly under her chin.

"Do you want me to make it go away?”

Another enthusiastic nod. He brushes his hand through her hair, but when he goes to retract the one by her mouth she whines. She raises up, biting down on his thumb and grabbing his wrist to keep it there. Bill could just die--he could melt into a puddle right there--but that’s not what she needs from him right now. She needs sternness. Correction. Steadiness.

So she gets a tap on the nose instead, a warning look, and she sinks back down lower and glides her mouth off of his thumb--but she lets out a petulant whine. Bill puts his hands back in his pockets and then he bends--he bends nearly in half--until his face is in front of hers; he glares at her and quirks a challenging brow. It’s stern. It’s dominating. And she’s maintaining his gaze for a second or two, but then he gets what he wants--she backs down. Averts her gaze downwards, focuses on her lap, physically makes herself a little smaller. Bill stands back to his full height. He leaves for a second--she knows better than to whine, now--and when he comes back he drops a notepad and a pencil in front of her.

“Write it out,” he says.

“What?” she asks.

“Write it out,” he repeats, “Every single thing you have to do today, that is stressing you out. Write it for me.”

She goes to rise to her feet but he clicks his tongue at her, a big hand pressing down gently on her shoulder to put her back on her knees. She bites her lip, starts to think--and then the pencil starts to fly. Bill stands there hovering over her and he makes a point not to fidget, to just stand there calm and still, as she lists everything out. When she’s done she hands the notepad to him--and he takes it, going to take a seat on the couch. Tiger doesn’t move--until his fingers snap and he beckons her over. “On your knees for me again sweet girl,” he says, and she kneels between his legs. 

He takes his time reading over the list--there’s about 27 things on it--and he’s not shocked, but none of them are life-altering. The things that work her into a tizzy rarely are. The top three are the most important, and they’re the things that he can't do for her. She has to do them. The rest? The rest are easy. It’s shit like washing her workout clothes, because she wore her last ones this morning and needs clean ones for tomorrow. It’s shit like packing up the leftovers in the fridge and putting them into the freezer so they don’t go bad. It’s shit like dusting the chandelier in her room--which absolutely does not need to be done that exact day and probably hasn’t been done ever, but it’s on the list because she’ll just freak out about anything when this mood starts. She’s quiet as he reads through the list item by item, maybe she sneaks a small kiss to his knee and nuzzles him a bit there.

Bill is always careful to control a lot of his tells in these situations--and he does it for her, so that all she’ll feel and see in him is calmness. His eyebrows don’t shoot up in surprise at the length of the list. They don’t furrow at some of the asinine items on the list. He just calmly reads through it--and when he’s done, he tears the paper after the top three items and hands that small piece back to her.

“That’s yours now,” he says, “That’s what you need to do today.”

“But the rest of--”

“Those are mine,” he interrupts, “All of that is mine now. Mine to do, mine to worry about, mine to complete. Not yours. Understand?”

She looks at him, confused. His eyebrows lift expectantly.

“Am I talking to myself?” he asks as he flicks her nose, and she flinches.

“But....the rest of the things I have to do--”

“You don’t have to do them anymore,” he says, and he holds up his portion of the list, “You’re giving those to me. You’re giving all of the stress of getting those done to me. That’s not yours anymore.”

“There’s a lot on--”

“Tiger, I’m not asking,” he reminds sternly, and she shuts up, “These will all get done by tomorrow morning. But you just worry about what’s on your list, now.”

She nods softly, and he tucks some hair behind her ears. Spreading his knees a bit wider, he sits up straight and pats his thigh.

“Come here sweet girl,” he says softly, “You know better.”

He has to be real soft about this part. Tiger knows what’s coming and she rises slowly, climbs onto the sofa and settles across his lap. This is not a punishment--at least it’s really not a strict one. Bill just wants to get his message across, and he knows she needs to be spanked. She didn’t do anything wrong so he’s not spanking her for punishment, and in all honesty she couldn’t handle anything that hard now anyway. This is just a bit of correction, a bit of grounding, a teeny tiny bit of the pain she likes just to help get her back acting right.

And he tells her that. Winding a loose fist in her hair as he drags her panties down, he’ll tell her this is not a punishment. This is more for her pleasure, to snap her out of it, just set her straight a little bit again. He doesn’t go hard at all, light smacks in comparison to how hard she can take it when she’s being punished, but hard enough that she can feel and that it breaks through this fog she’s been in.

But you know, if he catches her stressing about something over the course of the day--something that is on HIS list--then she is punished. Because that’s against the rules. When she gives him something, she’s not ever supposed to worry about it or take back the stress of trying to get it done. Because that’s his, that’s his responsibility--and he doesn’t ever let her down.

skjhfuhdfufhdugdug GOOD DUDE BILL EH

[plush-rabbit]

Cold Coffee

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I hope you like it!! I think I like the ending/rambing a lot and it starts off slow but like realistically I think this is what would be going through his mind so yeah!! I tried making the ending somewhat fluffy but I could only do so much!! xx

Piers sits in a simple decorated cafe, wooden floors, cozy chairs, tables decorated with a doily, circular with intricate designs crocheted onto it. His breath is forced, raspy and feeling as if it’s going down wrong, choking him as if this were his first time breathing. His soft blue eyes can't seem to meet yours, every time you enter his vision, he looks away rapidly and forces himself to look back down at his drink.

There’s a nervous tapping of his leg, bouncing and causing the table to shake and no matter how often he tries to force his leg to stop, to place his hands above his thigh and press down but no matter how hard or often he does it, his leg still jerks back, bouncing making the disposable cups shake in their place. He flashes you an apologetic smile, strained and more of a wince than anything else and immediately pulls it back, swallowing nervously, the apple in the throat feeling heavy as it bobs.

His face burns, a deep shade of red darkening his cheeks with ears that burn as equally as hot, and he regrets ordering a warm drink. Wispy steam rises out of the gap, the stark white lid holds drops of his drink. His lips are incredibly dry, chapped and he wants to reach into his pocket to grab at his chapstick, to fiddle with something other than his hands.

“As much as I enjoy sitting down with you-” he takes a sharp gasp at the sound of your voice, nails tapping against the table in a startled tap- “Woah-” you eyes go wide as your hands dart to his hands- “relax Piers, I just wanted to talk- nothing too serious or anything. I swear by it.” As if to show your honestly, you raise your hand, palm flat against the air. “I’m sure you have a lot of concerns- to be fair, I would to- so is there anything you’d like to address first?”

There’s a lot that he wants to address. Words that spin his mind so fast, passing and forming into a blur before he has the time to process them. Words that scream in his mind for attention, screaming so loud that he can already feel a headache forming at the base of his head and creeping up. His nails scratch at the table, curling and sliding the napkin, small tears ripping it apart. His tongue peeks out and wets his lips, eyes moving around the cafe, watching the patrons scurry along or sit down with their drinks. No one pays attention to him or to you. Someone meets his eyes and offers a welcoming smile and just as soon as it happened, the interaction ends and they return their attention to their phone.

“Piers?” Your voice startles him and his hand goes to his neck, rubbing at the tightness, his hand offering no help as it tightens around him. “Hey, are you okay?” He shoots you a pointed look, nails pointing into him in sharp pricks. “Okay, dumb question,” you nod slowly and your eyes glance down to his drink. “Listen, I get how overwhelming this could be but it was either this or an anonymous email. Frankly, I think this is the least stressful of the options.” Your hand slowly reaches over and grabs at his cup, pulling it close to yours. “Do you want me to speak first?”

“How the fuck did you find out?” His voice comes out in a croak, raspy and too broken to be taken seriously. The curse in his question doesn’t come off threatening, it comes off potable. He cringes at himself, his upper lip curling and his head dips, the hair that rests outside of his ponytail falls and once more, it’s much too hot. His hand falls to his lap and he desperately wishes he were outside.

“Do you want to go outside?” He whips his head to look at you where you clutch your drink in your palms. “You kind of look like you’re about to die so-” you dart your eyes to the outside, and he follows your gaze, the chill wind that brushes outside looks appealing- “outside?” He doesn’t answer and stays silent, still looking longingly at the outdoors, tears pricking in his eyes and he bites on his bottom lip. “If we go outside, there’s a less chance of people listening in on the conversation.” With that sentence, he rises from the table, chair squeaking as it drags across the floor and grabs his drink, not waiting for you to rise.

The air outside nips at his skin, the tip of his nose turning a soft shade of red, cheeks that bloom and make it easier to hide that it’s due to cold rather than his discomfort from the whole ordeal. He gives a glance to the door where you come through, shouldering it open with your drink in one hand. He watches as you hold the door open for a group of friends, giving a polite nod at their thanks. When you meet his eyes, the corner of his lips twitch and he turns on his heel walking through the thin crowd, ignoring the wandering eyes that linger on him a bit too long and immediately go for their phones. He hears your steps quicken, trying to keep up with his pace.

“So,” you trail, bringing the lid up to your lips.

“Quit the small talk,” he snaps, regretting bringing the drink along as he holds it tight in his grip. “How did you find out?” He narrows his eyes, brows furrowed into points with a scowl twisting his face.

You take a deep sigh and he can feel irritation nip at him, poisoning his words and wanting him to scream out of frustration. But instead he fumes as he walks, taking a sip of the warm drink, wishing that it would burn his throat to give him a reason to cry out.

“Well for starters, I haven’t told anyone.” He blinks owlishly at you and stops in his place. You take a few steps forward until you realize he isn’t following you and your turn around, gesturing with a nod of your head for him to follow. When he catches up to you, you continue speaking. “I’m not going to. I mean, as much as I would love to geek out with my friends about this- it isn’t my place.” He walks next to you in silence as you take another sip of your drink. “Second, I found out because well,” you chuckle nervously and now your face darkens, a hesitant smile on your lips and when you meet his eyes, you look away nervously, “I visited your old gym a while ago and uh, I heard you talking and I wasn’t looking at you and my mind put the voice together and when I saw you well,” you start to ramble, taking another sip of your drink, “it kind of put two and two together. I swear, I wasn’t actively looking for you but yeah. That’s how I knew and I’m guessing by your reaction, I was right and listen, I’m sorry about coming to you in public and just asking you about it- I definitely could have done that better but I wasn’t thinking and-”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, shaking his hand and taking another sip of his drink, his chest starting to feel light and anxiety slowly drifting. “Just- Why didn’t you keep it to yourself?”

“Oh-” you seem to shrink in on yourself and you both take a turn, the already thin crowd now dispersing only until a few people remain- “I watched your uh, stream,” you emphasize the word, tilting your head and pulling out a grimace, “and it- look, great work- really, I mean I pay for a reason and wow that sure is awkward to say out loud-” you laugh nervously taking a long sip from your drink and he can feel his face burn at the compliment- “but you know that stream where you got a donation to uh-” your eyes dart around the sidewalk and you lower your voice into a whisper- “jerk yourself and it- you said some mean things and-”

“Holy fuck,” he sighs, “you aren’t the one who should be nervous.” There’s a nervous tone that lingers on his voice, straining the words and even with the promise of you not spilling the fact of who he is to the public, there’s no trust that he has with you. “I’m the one whose livelihood can be ruined.”

“I’m not telling anyone.” You clear your throat. “I know you don’t have any reason to believe me and if I were in your shoes I don’t think I’d believe me either but I won’t tell.” You hold the drink and he watches through the corner of his eyes as you hesitantly bring it up to your lips, giving a small sip and pulling away the cup, nails digging into the material of the cup. “Look, the only reason I’m here now- oh! Think we can sit down? I’m getting a bit tired.” You point to an empty bench and right now he can’t deny you- he has to accept whatever you want to do. He nods and you give him a smile, walking alongside him towards the bench.

He sits next you with a sigh and watches as you fiddle with the- what he presumes- empty cup. You tilt it around, your index tracing along the logo. He has to admit- now that you rambled and even if the promise of not telling someone about his secret side gig is only based on your word- you don’t seem as intimidating as you did in the cafe. He isn’t as nervous, his body cooling down and even if the drink is now cold, he still drinks it, slow sips as you both sit in silence.

“Can I ask- Wait.” You look up at him with doe eyes. “Are you my biggest fan?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No, no. That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy your- uh, shows but I just got into you recently. Decided to splurge myself. I just happened to watch that show-”

“That one?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

Your lips pull into a frown and he raises a brow. “The one where you said bad things about yourself.”

“Oh,” he says in a whisper.

You nod. “Yeah, that one. So uh- yeah.” You look at him and move the empty cup upright. “Anything else?”

“Why’d you come up to me?” He asks quickly, words rushing out faster than he can process. “To get an autograph?” His tone becomes rougher. “Get to brag about it in the chat?” There’s a sharp edge to his words, cutting at his throat and past his lips. “The satisfaction to see me squirm?” He starts to spit the words out, his stomach a churning mess as his hand curls around the cup. “So you get to jerk off later about how you saw the guy behind the camera bitch and-”

“No,” you say in a defiant voice, your lips in a frown and a concerned look on your face. “I don’t-” you sigh and lean against the back of the bench- “I just- I didn’t like what you said to yourself that time.” He regards you with interest, raising a brow. “It wasn’t nice.” You turn to face him, your knee touching his and he’s still, shoulders hunching and drink held tight. “You might think or maybe that you just said it because you were getting paid for it but- there were mean comments that day and lately they seem to be getting er, louder or at least more apparent and like- listen, I just wanted you to know-” you look away from him, a hint of red dusting at your cheeks- “that I think you’re great. I uh, listen a bit to your music-” that gets his full attention on you, eyes that look at your nervous patter of your fingers drumming along the empty cup- “and I think you have a great voice and whether you meant it as a joke or for the topic at hand, there are like a bunch of people who would want to date you because in your earlier streams you seemed like a genuine guy and I saw you talk to the younger trainers and you were so nice to them and you’re a good guy and you probably don’t want like praise from a stranger but you’re a good person Piers. You’re a strong trainer and you have a good voice and you’re really handsome and yeah.” You clear your throat, and meet his eyes for a brief second before looking away. “I just thought you should hear something nice. You know, from a fan.” There’s a ghost of a smile that frames your face in a cute way.

He stares at you and he can feel warmth flood his face. Cyan eles glance down to where your knee meets his. The grip on the cup tightens and there’s a deep silence that surrounds the both of you. He wants to clear his throat and rise and walk away. The more that he talked to you the more that he realized that you pose no threat to him. Your rambling and nervous laughter showed your true colors and even if he didn’t want to hear the praise from a stranger, it is not unwelcomed. The words settle in his chest, making his chest hiccup and he scratches absentmindedly above his jacket.

“Thanks,” he mutters, dipping his head down to avoid looking at you, eyes darting to watch as your hands scratch at the logo only to soften into a soft grip. “I uh, appreciate the words.”

You don’t reply for a minute, your foot tapping above a crack on the sidewalk. “Just thought it would be nice for you to hear something good about yourself.” There's another pause and it’s broken when you rise from the bench with a groan. He startles and looks up at you. “I’ll uh, see you at your next show? I doubt I can but if you do another bet- maybe this time it could be praise?” You give him a soft smile and his apple bobs in his throat.

“Yeah, no, uh,” he clears his throat. “Yeah.” He clicks his tongue and brings the drink close to him. “I’ll see you then.”

You bounce on your heels and hold the drink at your side. “Uh, listen, if you ever want to talk again, I uh,” you rummage around your bag and pull out a pen and old receipt, writing on the back of you, you hand him the receipt, a set of numbers written on the back in neat handwriting. “You don’t have to obviously but yeah. Whatever you want.” You give him a wave of your hand, fingers curling into your palm. “See you later, Piers.”

He holds the receipt tight in his hand and gives you a soft wave. “Yeah, I’ll see you- or you’ll see me then.” His eyes dart and he spots a couple walking towards the both of you. The receipt crinkles in his fist and he clears his throat. “I’ll think about it.” he gives a raise of the hand that holds the receipt.

You shrug and smile encouragingly at him. “Do whatever you have to do.” You raise your hand, waving him goodbye and with a final smile, you look both ways before crossing the street and Piers is left alone watching as you quickly jog across the street disappear down the sidewalk on the other side.