#it's just that i would like to like. see them. i can barely distinguish the ones that are twins by face bc i dun know these people 😭😭shgd

[coffeefiction]

Megatron's "Not So Interesting' Life

So, I have this thought of an au for a while, where the war never happened but the world is littered with anomalies, entities and all that jazz, right? And Megatron, is just a normal mech, with a normal life, being friends with "normal" people and finding their newly crowned Prime off. Oh! He also gets these cool abilities that I have yet to properly set down-

If you have any ideas on what I should do with this story! Or questions! Let me know! Have fun!

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Megatron knows that he special he has always  known this. How could he not? From a young age, he could instinctively distinguish between a walking glitch of a fake and an actual mecha. It was as if his optics had been calibrated to detect the unseen threads of the universe. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, and he always had the gnawing sense that something lurked just beyond his peripheral awareness. Not that he cared. In fact, he barely gave it a second thought.

Megatron has always known that he has abilities, that he has a gift. He knew this. He could see what others couldn’t. Yet, for the longest time, he refused to acknowledge it, treating it as little more than an inconvenient quirk. That was, until he befriended a few of those shadowy entities that liked to pass themselves off as part of the mortal world. He never really minded—they weren’t doing him any harm, again, he barely cared.

They are attracted to Megatron's gift, I mean, who wouldn't? Having the ability to sniff out someone's bull is pretty helpful.

You see, Megatron grew up in Kaon, and growing up in Kaon, which was and is a place dripping with superstition, Megatron had heard his share of horror stories: the dark, Unicron’s spawns, Primus’ Youngs, and the whispers of what prowled in the shadows. These tales were used to scare younglings into good behavior.

Megatron himself had his fair share of those stories, although, some of the elders do love to exaggerate those stories.

He likes it, not because it makes it creepy. He didn’t find them scary—he found them funny, mostly because of his friends. For reasons he still couldn’t quite fathom, his closest companions growing up were a spark eater, a ghoul, and a demon. Hearing their outrage over the inaccuracies in these tales was endlessly entertaining.

“You can’t eat a spark like that,” Starscream, the spark eater, would hiss in annoyance whenever he hears these ridiculous stories  . “Why do they always describe it like I’m slurping energon soup? There’s nuance!”

“Ghouls: do not hide under berths: waiting to snatch younglings” deadpanned Soundwave, the ghoul, glaring at Megatron. “Soundwave: not a sterotype: Stories; exaggerated”

And Shockwave, the demon of the group would just simply twitch in annoyance.

And unlike Iacon, who rarely has anything to do with superstitions and such beliefs were dismissed as primitive nonsense. (or as media likes to portray it). Kaon has plenty, it thrived on superstition, unlike Iacon,  If Kaon had a museum for the supernatural, it would probably need its own skyscraper.

Megatron can attest to it, as stated before, he is friends with some of the horrifying entities that the tales always tell. Not only that, He’d had his share of encounters with those dark forces, not all of them pleasant. Most of the time, it ended in one of three ways: a fight, a frantic escape, or an unsettling brush with death. The only reason Megatron was still functioning was thanks to his friends, who often bailed him out of tight spots to save his arf.

Yet despite all of this, Megatron barely cares.

He doesn't do much, than work at his boring office job, visit his friends and reassure them that he is well, one of the literally lives in Vos! But at least his trip is always payed, courtesy to his friend. Outside of that? His life is completely barren and uneventful.

That is, until he met the new Prime that goes by the name Optimus Prime. Not, met met him, more like saw him in the holos and the streets during the coronation parade. He didn't wanna be there to be honest, but Starscream wanted to be there, he was in town for royal duties as the Prince of Vos and he wanted to Megatron to hang out with him, that isn't the mech's lonely apartment or Soundwave's house, or Shockwave's lab.

And Megatron, is a friend, so Megatron decided to go with Starscream, begrudgingly of course. 

When Megatron first laid his optics on the New Prime, he immediately sensed something was off, and he can tell that Starscream noticed too, yet he seem calm, which was odd. Normally, Starscream would have been on high alert, his predatory instincts kicking in. But this time? He wasn’t reacting defensively. That wasn’t exactly a good sign, isn't a bad one either.

Spark eaters tend to have heightened senses, they have the ability to sniff out their pray, and they have the ability to semi manipulate the perception of others, making it easy for them to blend in. If Starscream wasn’t threatened, that meant whatever this “off” thing was, it wasn’t something Starscream recognized as dangerous—or perhaps it was something he couldn’t categorize at all.

Megatron looks at the Prime, observing him closely. Their newly crowned Prime seems nice, he speaks very confidently yet softly, a leader with stern yet does not weild his fist to cage those around him. He spoke to the crowd with warmth, crouched to address younglings optic-to-optic, and carried himself with an air of calm authority.

Megatron….he knows there is something wrong, something off with the Prime. Megatron could feel it, like static in his circuits. He wanted to dig deeper, to pull at the threads of this mystery. But before he could, Starscream interrupted.

Megatron has to put those thoughts into a file and store it for later to entertain his friend. A bored Starscream always never ends well.

Soundwave can attest to that.

So Megatron talks to Starscream as they watch the parade from the distance in the balcony of Starscream's  fancy hotel. They watch as the Prime mingle with the civilian, as he interacts with the younglings with such care.

“Ugh. Look at that pompous mech!” Starscream sneered, slumping dramatically in his chair.

Megatron arched an optic ridge. “What are you talking about? He seems fine.”

“Fine? Look at him, so pristine, so proper!” Starscream gestured wildly at the balcony railing. “He’s too sweet. It’s disgusting. He’s practically dripping syrup on those younglings!” 

"Shouldn't I be the one making complaints here? I'm the one who's gonna get affected if his rule is slag" Megatron quipped dryly, already dreading the new rules and laws that will be set if this Prime is like the other ones before him.

“Oh, please.” Starscream waved him off. “If it were up to you, you’d just brood in silence and not say a word.”

“I would, actually,” Megatron muttered. “Besides, you’re the one verbally attacking your own kind right now.” He pointed out, wanting to immediately change the topic, for all that is stands in this world, Starscream is right, he would probably just brood in silence, rules kept him safe after all.

Starscream makes a disgruntled noise. "That thing down there, is far from being my kin."

Megatron grows confuse, he looks at Starscream. "What do you mean?"

“My own kind?” Starscream’s wings twitched irritably as he leaned back in his chair. “That thing down there is not my kin.”

That got Megatron’s attention. He turned to Starscream, optics narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Starscream huffed, clearly annoyed he had to explain. “Look at him! He’s too…off. Too stiff to be a spark eater, too mellow to be a ghoul. His frame doesn’t match anything I recognize. And his voice?” Starscream shuddered theatrically. “It’s wrong. It’s too nice. No one’s voice is that…perfect.”

Megatron frowned, glancing back at the Prime. Now that Starscream mentioned it, he can see more of the odd things about him. The balance of his movements, the precision of his words, the faint flicker of something beneath the surface—it didn’t quite add up.

Huh… Yeah, he can kinda see that now.

[mothercain]

The Consequence of Audience

As I went there through the long, long wood, I felt no-thing and I was no-thing and I was at ease. The grey ash trees and their mottled plumage were as one with each other, curving and branching to form a ceiling overhead. There was wide separation between trunks, creating vast corridors stretching off in all directions before me, behind me, all around me. O, what praise I could sing of that never-ending dusk fall I spent between those oaks! None came with me, none came upon me, for I was alone and I was at ease. Yet came the day the trees broke, the corridor ended, and I was thrust upon the rocky expanse that was the Great Dark. There I saw first face and heard footstep, few and far between, but I was no longer alone. It was a shameful deed to carry these two naked hands as they clenched hotly, now in full display for all to see. I had never noticed them in the wood, for I was at ease. Here, the taut skin seemed to stretch and sweat, almost glowing, as if exasperated of their own grip. For as I wandered the Great Dark, there was not but grey, barren rock as far as any eye could see. It did make a passerby out of an observer. I saw them trudge by, fingers dipped into their open mouths desperate for wetness, the lolled tongue. There, in the wood, I was the watcher, but here I am nothing but displacing air. Yet, within the smothering toil of my apathy, I had heard the bell. Murmur of God between their slick, bent fingers ruffled the hair on the back of my neck. My muscles groaned against the weight of the skin around them, aching to be set loose. All at once, I saw, from where I stood, there rose a great dome atop a hill on the horizon before me. Yes, I saw it there with mine own two eyes! The white exterior peered at me with flat orifices obscured through the mist, barely distinguishable from the dark sky behind it, as though all the world beyond the dome was cut from the same slab, only slightly effaced. The convex roof sat atop a disk, held up by great ionic pillars circling the temple. Steps radiated out and down the slope, like ripples in a pond escaping a dropped stone. It was greater than life, greater than the wood, greater than all else which filled this dark, and my gullible delight was that it was all mine. Yes, all mine! One could follow me to it but they could not follow me in. My hands stretched outwards with an audible cracking in the bone as I crept forward there. I could not tell you the rest. I would not even attempt, for it would change no-thing. To know if I did go completely naked into the theater of the divine. If I did need for no-thing, want for no-thing. If I was then full to the brim, cylindrical pull slid through my gaping jaw into my endless throat. If I saw it there, shimmering through the veil like pearlescent oil over crystal water. If it heard me singing with every atom that formed me, through every orifice and wound I had, polytonal in my begging for it to complete me with the fifth. If it looked into me, saw how I needed to know what God knows and to be with him. If it spoke back to me in flat dissonance, “how couldn’t ye?” It would be of no good to speak these things to you. In what way I was still returned to the ground, even if beneath it, intact with my puerile need to repeat my-self and my mistakes. Who would not climb the wall for a peer over the edge? The cautionary tale is the fool’s errand, and I am no fool. I am as my hands are; twisting in on themselves and bursting at the seams. I can-not contain the ache for sensation, just as I could not contain the grief as I fell, nor the agony as I crawled my way back to this rocky countryside, and lo! I am on my way there again now. I am, I am, I am! But I will not tell you the visceral details, as you already know them. You all do.

It’s happening to every-body.

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 577

—  author’s note: here you have the teaser of the fic i’m currently working on 🤗 you have a tiny little teaser below & i hope you’ll enjoy it ❤️

—  tag list: let me know in any way if you want to be tagged when i post this and if you are part of my permanent taglist, you will automatically be added ✨

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

[gojoest]

MDNI, f! reader, fingering, thigh fucking, creampie, satoru calls you pretty + my darling + my love, he cums so easily, wc: 1.1k, not proofread as always, bit messy too (i am so sleep deprived)

the fresh, tangy scent of coffee wafted through the air, momentarily distracting your senses from the smell of sex lingering on you from last night’s activities as you watched the coffee machine fill your mug. elbows resting on the counter as you waited for your drink, and a few seconds in—your nose adapted, you could once again distinguish the musk soaked into your skin.

you smelled like satoru — his cum, his sweat — lots of it in fact; but also like yourself. both of you combined and oiled all over your body, especially on your inner thighs.

you had noticed, in fact as soon as you got up and made your way to the kitchen — layers of his now dried load parched and glued onto the plush between your legs, reminding you of how many times he came inside you last night, ineluctably feeling its still somewhat sticky texture as your legs brushed against each other with every step.

a soft smile cracked your lips at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. it was time, you thought, he was coming to you.

satoru could never stay in bed too long without you. no matter what kind of deep slumber he were to be in, he’d always wake up shortly after were you to sneak out. i become restless when you’re not in my arms, he would say.

“morning”, you smiled but didn’t turn around. “coffee?”

“morning, pretty”. he stopped right behind you. you figured he was naked — the tip of his cock, hard and rigidly up already, was poking at the small of your back.

a hand slid under the oversized shirt you had quickly tossed on yourself, palming the bare cheeks of your ass — “i want some of that, definitely” — grabbing a handful and squeezing it inside his massive hand.

a hum dragged out of you, body jolting and back arching from the way the squishing caused one of his fingers to graze against your cunt, the tip of it almost prodding at your entrance. “i’m so hard, i can bust any moment”, his voice still low and loaded with sleep. there was something so undeniably sexy about the way he spoke to you in the mornings. drowsy, husky and lower than usual. “but i want it to be in you”

he rested his chin on your shoulder from behind, snaking his other arm around your waist to hold you still while the one between your legs worked the arousal out of you carefully. two digits rubbing against your folds, wiping the insides of your lips with the tips. you could feel a huge portion of your slick gathering at your entrance, threatening to blob on the floor any moment. but his hungry hand went for it first — he used his entire palm to wipe it off and then held it tightly pressed against your cunt for a few moments.

“s-shit”, you hissed, head falling down.

lifting the hem of your shirt you watched as his fingers peeked from in front. it was such an obscene view — your entire pussy inside his massive palm.

“can’t have you making a mess here, my darling. it’s the kitchen after all — it’s where we eat”, he pulled his hand away only to smear your slick all over his cock with a few slow strokes.

“says the man who’s fucked me on every possible surface in this very kitchen”

“almost every surface — i didn’t fuck you by the coffee machine, you see”, the smug in his voice was evident, “gotta fix that now. you just stay still and pretty the way you are”

bending his knees he lowered himself just enough to sneak his cock between the gap of your legs and brought your thighs together with his hands forcing them to clench around him. you smiled after realizing what he was up to. “can you cum from this?”, you looked at him over your shoulder.

“i can cum just by being next to you, my darling”, he breathed out a moan at the friction around his throbbing cock, pushing himself forward and effortlessly sliding across your sopping cunt all thanks to the little prep sesh from before.

“oh, f-fuck—“, satoru quivered when you took his tip poking out from in front and pressed it against your clit. “—fuck”, squeezing your thighs, bringing them more together, he settled into a rhythm of slowly drawing his hips back and forth into the slippery crevasse between your legs. “keep holding it like that… please, my love—it makes your lips kiss my cock”, he groaned through yet another slow thrust forward. the squelching noises, too, they were fucking with his brain. the vast ocean of you was right before him, yet he was only dipping his feet. regardless, it felt so fucking good.

“of course, baby”, you breathed, holding his cock flat against yourself from the underside — helping the upper side grind harder against your pussy, rubbing it on your clit each time he pushed himself forward. you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched his cock go in and out of the gap of your thighs swiftly.

“nghh..”, satoru moaned, his breathing now shallow as he felt the tingles at the base of his shaft. the tension rising in his groin rapidly, he wasn’t sure if he could endure a few more strokes without busting his balls out. “i’m sorry, love… don’t think i can hold it back…”, sweat dripping down his face and onto the back of your shoulder, he was desperately trying to keep his load under control as part of him was guilty that he was about to finish first.

“shh”, you hushed, rocking your hips against him to match his pace, to help him out. “you can cum, baby — do it for me”

your words were almost the end of him, but he managed to stop himself and paused his ministrations. pulling back from you slightly to spread his legs a bit more and grab a hold of his throbbing cock to guide it into your entrance and slowly slide it in.

“fuck” — he wasn’t even halfway in when all the tension in his balls suddenly released. he let out a loud groan, body slightly spasming as he shot a hot glob of his cum inside you…

extra:

“see — when i cum there is no mess”, his hands circled around your waist from behind (cock still inside you)

“that’s because you unload inside me. besides you haven’t pulled out yet”, you snorted, placing your hands over his.

“i’m not pulling out, yet”, his lips kissed the top of your head. “but i will ask of you to walk with me to the table”

“hmm, and why would i do that?”

“i am going to eat you there, for breakfast”

[cacaitos]

ngl it’s sort of annoying our cousins can’t bother to spend literally more than 30mins at at time with us every time they visit the country for they little vacations and that’s w years in between.

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 36. an overwhelming realisation

(wc: 2.601 but its worth it TRUST ME..)

it was only around 17:30 when karina, minjeong and you had finally made it back to your apartment complex. even though you initially didn’t plan on purchasing anything, you had returned back bags full of clothing and whatnot as the two had decided to shower you with birthday gifts. of course you had protested, they just didn’t care.

“my legs feel so sore.” you humoured in slight pain, leaning against the the wall of the elevator. “at least we had fun, right?” and minjeong was right. you responded back with a small smile and nod, changing your view to karina who was stuck on her phone. “who are you texting?” you questioned. karina hummed in response, looking up before pushing her phone into her pocket. “no one.” she casually answered back.

with sudden movement, karina had reached forward and tugged the shopping bags out your hands, leaving you barely any time to register it. “i’ll bring these to your room, minjeong has a present for you in her room so you should get off on the third floor with her.” karina suggested, reaching back to grab your purse too. the elevator’s door had opened, leaving you not much choice as karina urged the two of you out before pressing the close button.

you watched the lift go up to the fourth floor and turned to minjeong with a dumbfounded stare. “what was that about?” you mused with a slight laugh. minjeong smiled back at you, nodding her head down the corridor of the third floor. “lets go.” you wondered what both their issues were as minjeong was already walking ahead of you without any other words following.

instead of words, it was you that was following her and you couldn’t help but think there was something off about the silence minjeong remained in. you two reached her door and she turned back to look at you. “i forgot my keys at jaemin’s place, can you get them for me?” she requested with a slight plea, already holding you by the shoulders and pushing you towards jaemin’s door.

again, you were left with no other choice but to comply. jaemin’s room was right next to hers anyways, and you questioned why in the world she couldn’t get it herself. you knocked on his door, and the sound of muffled voices infiltrated your hearing before it went quiet. ‘come in’ was all you heard after, the voice being nothing like jaemin’s distinguishing one. you hesitated, but eventually opened the door to enter jaemin’s dimly lit apartment.

it took you by surprise, the way the dark room had lit up and a chorus of cheers erupted as you entered. your eyes scanned the whole room that had been filled by your 3rd and 4th floor neighbours, all carrying a variant of party decorations. you were even more surprised to see mark and rei, both of them pulling you into the room. “happy birthday (—)!” rei cheered, dragging you to the middle of jaemin’s living room.

at a loss for words, you just gaped at your surroundings, a warmth swelling in your chest. “this wasn’t needed.” you shied away, too embarrassed by all the sudden attention on you. mark, who had found a spot right next to you, threw his arm around your shoulder. “of course this is needed, i’m glad jaemin didn’t listen to your words.” you hadn’t even noticed him slyly slipping a party hat on your head, because something else caught your attention.

“jaemin? this was his idea?” majority confirmed your question, and mark added that ‘both jaemin and karina planned this, they really put effort into it.’ and the surge of emotions you felt as you saw jaemin exit his kitchen with a cake in his grip were enough to almost bring you to tears. he had placed the cake down on the coffee table, carrying a small grin on his face as well as a party hat of his own. his eyes locked with yours a few seconds later.

“(—)! i know you said that you didn’t wanna do anything for your birthday, but i thought it would be nice to spend your first birthday in this apartment with everyone else.. i even invited mark and rei!” jaemin rambled. “i hope you don’t mind.. i also didn’t have time to bake the cake myself so i hope you don’t mind cake from the-”

jaemin almost toppled over from the force you attacked him with. you hugged him with the biggest smile you’ve ever had, almost choking him in the process. “this is so sweet of you jaemin, both you and karina are the best.” you took a step back, placing a hand over your stupidly huge smile. feeling the arms of someone else around your shoulder, you were met with karina who planted a chaste kiss on your cheek. “happy birthday (—), i hope you’re happy today.” it was rare that you’d see karina smile so big, but the smile on her face as she squished you into her for a hug was something you wish you’d see more often.

it was enough to finally bring you tears.

you could hear both mark and who you assumed to be jungwoo, laughing. “no way you’re actually crying.” mark asked in disbelief, though the comforting feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back showed that it was nothing more than a friendly tease. you really couldn’t help it, and as you pulled away from karina with your eyes filled with tears, you wondered what you had done to gain such friends who’d go out of their way to plan a surprise party for you.

“you’re going to make me cry too.” rei sulked, an endearing smile on her face as she hugged you from the side. jaemin agreed, and if you looked closer, you could see the way his eyes had threatened to gloss a little. he had walked over to you, wrapping his arm around you. “i’m glad you like it, once again happy birthday! and i’m sorry for all the trouble i’ve caused you but i’m glad you’re still sticking with me despite all that.” jaemin also wore an endearing smile on his face.

“this is getting sappy.” jisung cringed from across the room. haewon pushed him aside in return, kissing her teeth at his remark. “let them have their little sentimental moment before we celebrate her birthday.” she muttered warningly. “happy birthday (—)!” isa exclaimed, and a chain reaction of birthday wishes from the rest soon followed after.

“lets cut the cake now.” mark announced right after, already reaching down to the coffee table. jaemin had left your side and rushed to the kitchen to get the utensils as well as paper boards. it gave you time to take a look at the room, it was decorated nicely and everyone was seemingly enjoying their time as they conversed over the soft music playing in the background.

it was too perfect to be to true, though something felt missing. someone was definitely missing.

“we invited him but he said he had other plans, don’t think too much about it.” as if she could read your mind, rei who was still beside you reassured you with a rub to your shoulder. your head turned to her, surprised that she could tell that you were specifically looking for him. you nodded in acceptance. she was right, after all, today was about you, donghyuck shouldn’t be a thought when you were surrounded by all the people you loved.

but it wasn’t that easy, and every now and then, your mind would wander to donghyuck’s whereabouts, as well as his words. he said he would remember your birthday, and all you could wonder for the remainder of the night was how much truth those words really held.

“so i just knock on her door and give her this and the letter?” jaehyun repeated in confirmation, and donghyuck nodded. “just wish her a happy birthday. you can improvise the rest.” donghyuck instructed while he stood in front of jaehyun, grabbing onto his hand before sliding an envelope into it. “tell her to not read it until you’re gone.”

“and do you want me to tell her this is your doing?” jaehyun asked as he started to step towards the door. donghyuck thought about it for a while, before shrugging. “only if she asks.” the response made jaehyun laugh, who’s hand was now on the door handle. “she’s not gonna believe her eyes.” donghyuck claimed with a grin, checking the time on his phone. “i think she came back upstairs like twenty minutes ago, you can go now.” haechan walked over towards jaehyun before patting him on the back. it was their last interaction before jaehyun exited the door and turned to stand right in front of yours.

in those twenty minutes in your room, you had time to come down from the high you were on. you had checked your phone to see if donghyuck had texted you anything, the time already nearing 11 pm, but there was nothing, and you’re not sure if you expected it or are disappointed because you didn’t.

a knock on your door was what broke your train of thoughts, and your first thought was that it must be one of your neighbours. your second thought was unfortunately donghyuck, and it was probably that assumption that made you rush to your front door, heart beating in what you sadly can only assume was excitement.

it wasn’t donghyuck, though you wished it was him even more now. you could feel your stomach drop as you stood face to face with none other than jaehyun himself, the guy carrying a soft smile which displayed his dimples. your heart went from not beating at all, to beating erratically, your breath being anything but regular. were you perhaps dreaming? “you’re (—) right?”

so you were not dreaming. the realisation caused panic to form in your body, your eyes widened in the process. “you’re kidding me..” you muttered. jaehyun found it quite humorous and chuckled at your state. “i heard a lot of nice things about you from mark. its nice to finally meet you.” jaehyun’s words caused your breath to hitch. there was no way jaehyun was right in front of you.

“i’m dreaming right?” you whispered in disbelief which made jaehyun smile. “haechan guessed that you’d say something like that. since it’s your birthday, i’m here with a signed EP, as well as a special envelope that you can only open once you’re inside. i hope you enjoyed your birthday and i hope mark or haechan bring you with them to my next concert, you seem like a sweet person. it was nice meeting you (—).”

it was truly too much to comprehend. you knew that the possibility of meeting jaehyun wasn’t slim due to your connection with both mark and donghyuck, but with their persistent refusals, it was merely a wish, not something you actually expected to become reality. and as jaehyun’s words sunk in, the mention of donghyuck’s name finally caught onto your ears, a subconscious smile forming in your face from it.

“thank you so much.. seriously.” you sheepishly thanked him and jaehyun nodded, taking a step back before his hand motioned into a small wave. “its nothing, i hope you enjoy the rest of your night, happy birthday.” jaehyun bid his farewells before he turned around, leaving you inside your apartment, still not grasping the unreal experience.

you closed the door to your apartment and looked down and the items in your hands. you placed the EP carefully down before opening the envelope. the whole day was full of surprises and you were once again filled with surprise as you pulled out a small paper sheet, containing a hand written letter. the hand writing reminded you of a familiar one that you had seen before. your eyes raked over the words that donghyuck had written to you, a stupid grin stuck on your face as you did so. you weren’t even aware of how hot your body had started to feel, or how your stomach had started to tingle at the stupid words he wrote.

your feet carried you on its own and you exited your apartment with urgent steps. your hand had reached up to knock on donghyuck’s door, and as if he could sense your presence, it had opened after the second knock.

you remember the first time you met donghyuck. he wore a simple white shirt and black shorts as well as his black framed glasses, sporting copper brown hair as he opened the door for you. you remember the resentment you felt when despite his good looks, he was an asshole to you at that time.

now, stood in front of you with the same identical attire he wore that night, you felt nothing but butterflies growing in your stomach as donghyuck looked at you with a smile you could only describe as fondness. “happy birthday sweetheart, did you like my present?” you couldn’t even be annoyed at the teasing tone in his voice, or the use of that nickname you had started to grow fond of.

all you could do was lean forward and wrap your arms around him without any warning. donghyuck stumbled back, taken aback by the sudden affection but quickly reciprocated by wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. and if your heart wasn’t beating like crazy itself, you’d be able to feel the way donghyuck’s heartbeat matched yours perfectly.

“what’s this about?” donghyuck chuckled, remaining his hold on you. you removed yourself from the crook of his neck and took a step back, though donghyuck’s arms remained around your waist to keep you close. you had to physically hold your smile back, not wanting to go overboard. “thank you… that was really nice of you.” you whispered, too scared that your emotions would be overwhelming if you spoke any louder.

donghyuck shrugged, looking at you in amusement. “its nothing. you said you wanted to meet him so here we are.” it felt like the more he spoke, the more your body tingled and heated up. you didn’t even know how to respond back to what he said, which allowed him to continue his words. “now that you met him, does that mean you’ll finally get over this crush you have on him?”

his words were meant to be a joke, simply referencing your previous conversation. but as you continued to stare at him, taking in just how… beautiful he looked up close like this as well as the way your heart wouldn’t stop beating, there was already an answer going through your head.

you think you already have.

your brain wasn’t in the right place, and your body moved before your thoughts did. you leaned closer to him and without much thought, placed your lips on donghyuck’s. it was nothing more than a peck because your mind had registered what you had done. you’re not quite sure why you did it, maybe it was because of the overwhelming excitement you felt, or the gratitude you had, or maybe it was the fact that he had been eyeing your lips for the past five seconds leading up to that.

your excuses didn’t matter, because just as you pulled away, donghyuck pulled you right back in himself, kissing you in the halls of the 4th floor with his hand on your jaw, so soft and delicate that you thought you were dreaming.

you had definitely gotten over jaehyun.

bonus! (haechan’s love letter draft)

previous — master list — next

notes ; happy late mark day 🥳🎊 as celebration we got… ynhae realising their feelings after 36 chapters? POP THE CHAMPAGNE AND FIRE THE FIREWORKS 🔥🎉🥳🎊🍾

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @hcvenue @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @junviadinho @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

[thebadboyfanclub]

One Can Only Hope (Cregan x Reader)

First of, I don’t know why this particular song was stuck in my head while I was writing but I think it fits the aesthetic of how the couple works together, also I don’t care that they didn’t pick this actor for me THAT is what Cregan stark looks like, and also sorry for not adding the last detail it just naturally went with a different approach

'may I present my second-born child and my precious only daughter, (y/n) Targaryen, the heiress of driftmark"

(y/n) bowed lightly before the stoic man that it deserves to be noted how thick his fur was which engulfed him, the man nodded as a sign of acknowledgment to the princess and the young heiress (y/n) could swear that she detected a faint smile forming on his lips, to be quite fair no one could tell since the lords' lips were faintly visible due to his distinguished beard, once (y/n)s deep blue eyes met his there was an instant influence on her that cause her to slightly shiver, mostly from anxiety and somewhat fear of the unknown.

(Y/n) could only describe the sensation similar to placing yourself at the very sharp edge of a tall cliff, as one would gaze down at the water the little voice would whisper to take a plunge, release yourself from the shackles of overthinking, whilst your mind begged you to take a step back and forget about all of this.

Unfortunately (y/n) was well aware of the reason why she had to take this long of a flight on dragon back and introduce herself to the new lord of the North, her mother had put a tremendous amount of effort into making this a trip that could be enjoyable too (y/n) but to no avail, she did not blame her mother, ever since she was a toddler (y/n) would catch whispers of numerous people around her castle that would venture on whom she would marry, as the moons passed and (y/n) became a lady the pressure became tighter than her corset.

"judging by the tremble and pink nose you are not accustomed to such a cold environment"

"I'm afraid not, I am willing to try though, if need be"

She suggested as her voice usually would be colourful and loud- something that princess rhaenyra adored- was now barely audible, Rhaenyra dreaded asking this of her only daughter, seven hells the reason she even had (y/n) was because of her failed match that was created under ambition and desperation for allegiance, now she had to bare the curse of the prey becoming the hunter as she set her daughter up in hopes this could bring peace and safety not only to the realm but to their family.

“It is an honor to have the Targaryen family as our guest, I believe last time it was with Queen Alyssane, was it not?”

“Indeed, my lord, though I cannot recall if we have ever United our house bloodline”

“That is correct, such a pity don’t you think Princess Rhaenyra? We must correct that mistake as fast as we can, before all that let me escort you to your chambers, you must rest after such travel”

Cregan's humor was a breath of fresh air for mother and daughter, both of them felt more comfortable through his commentary and light-hearted chatter.

Rhaenyra was extremely thankful that her daughter understood why this must be done if she had to be completely honest with herself partially the reason she chose Cregan as her daughter's match was how the whispers of his strength and his handsome nature made it to the red keep, another thing was a desperate attempt on keeping her daughter guarded, mayhaps if she found refuge in the north of the vicious Hightowers pushed Rhaenyra to war (y/n) would be tucked away and protected by the Lord.

As they walked through the castle Cregan started blabbering about all kinds of things his brain could master, he was certainly nervous when he got the letter from Rhaenyra herself asking for her daughter to be betrothed to him, Targaryen and Starks had, of course, rumors of laying together but never being United in the eyes of the Gods, and to add the fact that the lady is in line for the throne, the wedlock and children would bring such different aspect to his house.

"the lady of the north has to endure the stinging sensation of the icy air, but I believe having a humungous dragon that spews fire on command should help"

Rhaenyra smiled at the slight declaration of interest and almost a very subtle way of claiming their betrothal to be a fact, it was (y/n) 's turn to nod excitedly and let out a small giggle, Cregan was not a man that went unnoticed, young, tall, strong, beautiful, any woman of her status would thank the gods for such a match and a part of her was curious.

Due to the small sign of hope (y/n) careless tucked a strand behind her ear, revealing a part of her to the Lord that he had never seen before.

“Your ear”

He said almost in a question, subconsciously his head tilted in order to get a better view, hastily (y/n) let her hair fall back again, concealing her left ear, flustered and internally cursing herself.

“I don’t believe I have seen something like it before”

“I apologize, I-it is-“

“Unique, I know that Targaryens usually have violet eyes as your mother has, however, I can only guess you found that boring and chose something entirely different, you have quite the taste”

(Y/n)s eyes slightly widen at the kind-hearted nature of Cregan's comment, (y/n) was born with pointy ears, her mother would always jest that it was because the fairies brought (y/n) to her as a gift, others would say that the Targaryens started to blend more with their dragons and that Rhaenyra indulged in blood magic to have the daughter she always wanted.

Gossip and fairytales aside, (y/n) tried her best to conceal that little thing like a well-kept secret that she now had pulled the covers from. Cregan only smiled, (y/n) seemed like a peach on a summer day, full of sweetness, and the nectar could bring back the dead, her smile could make your teeth hurt like how they used to when he ate pie, the pointy ears in his eyes only gave her a boost in her ethereal presence.

Despite that (y/n) had to acknowledge that the man was nothing but a stranger, she had witnessed countless loveless marriages and men that sucked the life out of their wives,  besides all of that she pushed those types of thoughts to the side and masked her dark thoughts for the future with a brave face.

-

"Mother!"

(Y/n) exclaimed as she skipped over to Rhaenyra who rushed to her daughter's side, it had been months since (y/n) had seen her mother, and as content as she was with her new life no one could replace the place Rhaenyra had in her daughter's heart.

"oh my dearest, how lovely it is to see you, take a turn for me let me look at you"

(y/n) let out a snicker at her mother's request even though she complied almost immediately making Rhaenyra nod in approval, to no one’s surprise (y/n) had grown to be a proper lady, her red cape with the thick lining and fur, her hair down and disheveld from riding her dragon, plump red cheeks from eating well, and how could one forget her smile, shining through the realm and blessing her mother with a sigh of relief, Rhaenyra was relieved to say the slightest that her only daughter was taken care of.

"Princess, thank you for inviting us"

"nonsense, I would take any chance to see my baby"

"Mother" (y/n) whispered in embarrassment

"hush now young lady, to me, you will always remain the small babe that curled in my arms, you will know what I'm talking about sooner than late"

"about that, Mother, it might be sooner than you anticipate"

Rhaenyra froze in her spot, her eyes doubling their original size as an audible inhale of breath was heard, (y/n) 's eyes watered and her arms seemed to have a slight tremble whilst she took off her cape to reveal the cutest swollen belly. Rhaenyra stood still for only a second before she wrapped her arms as tight as she possibly could around (y/n) who did the same.

"no, my baby, why didn't you write me about this?"

"I-"

"We wanted to wait this time, I believe you understand, (y/n) wanted to tell you as soon as possible, I advised her not to, forgive me, princess"

Rhaenyra might not have birthed Cregan though she had given birth to (y/n) and that meant that she knew when her daughter was hiding, like now.

(Y/n) wanted to be cautious, after they suffered an early loss of their first baby before her belly could even swell, inevitable fear overtook her, she had refused to ride her dragon for the first three moons and she did her best to remain abed as much as possible.

Thankfully, Cregan shook her out of it, asking her to take a walk as often as his duties allowed him to, he would also attempt to ever so casually bring up how her dragon kept all of the town awake from roaring and complaining, even for this visit  (y/n) only agreed after Cregan offered to get up on the dragon with her so she can feel safe.

"it doesn't matter, all that I care about is that my baby is happy and healthy"

"Don't worry Mother, the north has been extremely good to me"

“For that I am certain, well then, let us celebrate, my little babe is having a little babe”

-

"It is good to see you back and we’ll, my lord"

"it is good to be back, especially with such a catch might I add, tell the cook to prepare the Stagg for supper, give the wild pig for you and the others"

"you are utmost gracious my lord, the princess is waiting for you in your chambers"

"wonderful, do not let anyone disturb us, I wish to stay by her side until supper is served"

Cregan skipped the way into his chambers, he was too caught up in the rush of the hunt and the excitement of reconnecting with his lady wife to notice the nods and stiff giggles of the servants and guards.

He didn't bother to knock, even if he was indecent there was nothing he hadn't seen, secretly he hoped to see her swollen belly bare, as it grew bigger Cregan had adored to kiss on her belly and rub it as he felt the kicks and moves of their child, together they would make plans for the future, like making sure the babe receives an egg for their cradle or getting a wolf cub as a pet.

"my de-"

"shush, you'll wake her"

medusa had cast her spell over Cregan as his eyes focused on the most extraordinary sight, his lady wife holding their babe while she sat up in their bed. (y/n) had never looked more beautiful in his eyes, her hair falling past her shoulders as her arms wrapped around the child and her big eyes sparkling with joy.

The baby was wrapped in a white blanket and (y/n) slightly rocked it, it almost could fool someone that (y/n) had already given birth to numerous children by the graciousness in her moves, Cregan could pull a chair and watch this for the rest of his days, alas his curiosity and excitement rushed him to her side, sitting right next to his lady wife in awe.

"bless me, when did this happen?"

"last morrow, the labors started hours after you left"

"my strong dragon, you did this without me, I must admit I am slightly wounded"

"I did not want to send someone until I delivered her, make sure she is fine and all"

if it was humanly possible Cregan would swear he could hear her trembling heart, as her pleading eyes uncovered the insufferable pain she went through that held hands tightly with distress and a splash of grief.

(Y/n) ached for the babe she had lost, wondering if it had been a boy to a girl, if it would have their father's eyes, or if they would prefer music over hunting, Cregan felt helpless, watching his love suffer as he also grieved in silence, though now it did not matter, the gods took mercy on them.

At just the perfect queue, the small babe cooed pulling both of them out of their trance, simultaneously the pair looked down at the fruit of their ever-growing bond with humungous smiles and cloudy eyes.

"she is gorgeous, once you fully heal we will throw a feast, I'll send some of my best men for a hunt, you should write to your mother, and ask her if she can find Dornish wine-"

"my lord, let us enjoy her before we present her to the realm, she is barely a morrow old"

"she is a princess, our princess"

"Precisely, our princess, come lay with us"

as much as (y/n) comprehends the weight of duty and the strict order of customs that came with such wonderful news, she had grown up with a mother who had wrapped her and her siblings with a cloak to protect their childhood years, allowing them to be kids amid chaos and now it was her time to step up and build a fort that kept her happy and safe.

Cregan puffed out a breath of defeat before he complied and climbed as carefully as a man of his statue could

“Let me see, oh perfect”

“She will grow out of it”

“She better not, maybe the next one can have slit eyes as well”

“My love, I do not believe I can give birth to a full dragon”

“One can only hope”

Cregan jested as (y/n) laughed, the young babe had inherited her mother's ears, Cregan would often brush (y/n) 's hair away from her face to take a look at her ears, or brush his fingers over them as she laid her head on his chest at night, sometimes (y/n) would slap away his hand while he roared with laughter, others she would just bask in his admiration, thanking whoever took favor in her and gave her the man that loved her, pointy ears and all.

Requests are open!

[automeris-io-moth]

Reunion

That morning Hero felt particularly tired. 

Perhaps Villain had noticed early when greeting them at breakfast, such was the reason the servants were fetched to help them shower, help them dress and eat, fed by hand as if not humiliated enough by then, trapped by the fact they were indeed unable to lift the cutlery. 

Perhaps it had been Villain’s doing. Perhaps it had been the tea, perhaps it had been something else. 

Later, Hero was taken to the main hall of the former gubernatorial palace right in the heart of the city, where a wood and gold throne laid. Hero had once, long ago, made a joke about Villain compensating for something with such a cartoonish display of power, but then they had no energy to obnoxiously repeat it, as they did every time they entered the place. Mockery was one of the few things Hero had left after all. 

Yet, that day they could barely keep their head upright, a foggy sense of nausea crepting up their throat, a heavy weight pushing them down from the top of their head kept them glued to Villain that morning, head laying on the other's shoulder as Hero laid across their lap, their enemy's hands stroked up and down their arms and back, warming them from the coldness of the room. 

"Let them in," Villain's voice boomed across the hall, the echo remaining a second longer. 

The old wooden doors creaked open, uneven steps entering the room, as if being rushed, and Hero hid their head from the sharp noise. 

"What do you think I should do, love?” Villain asked the Hero this time, pressing their lips against their hair  “Four intruders wandering around, trying to enter our home to steal god knows what.” 

And Hero tried, tried to twist their head to look at the people standing before them, distinguishing them on their knees, half aware of the number mentioned, half aware of their factions, of what they wore. 

Half aware that they knew them. 

“I told you, Leader,” one said, a whisper too sharp to fulfil its purpose of being discreet “they sold us out.” 

“Shut up, Teammate, what about that?” The called answered, face straightening and, for a moment, Hero could swear they made eye contact “What are you looking to prove with this display, Villain?” 

Villain huffed a laugh, turning Hero’s head back to them  “Come on Leader, do you really think I put this show just for you?” 

They had, Hero thought, Villain usually preferred if they weren’t seen. Just for their eyes, they had once said, when they were, as that day, too out of their mind to talk back. 

“What did you do to them?” 

“I would never hurt them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” they answered, hands pulling them ever so close to their chest, curling if only lightly to embrace them “I’m not like you.” 

“We never…” 

“Yes you have,” they answered “I’ve seen every scar in their body, and I’m responsible for only one. Don’t lie to my face please.” 

“They knew what they were doing! It was for the greater good,” Teammate answered this time, sweat dripping from their forehead to the blood, taking the dirt with it. 

“Such a funny concept is the greater good. I can assure you it holds no meaning to me, there is nothing greater than keeping what's mine close and unblemished, and you have scarred it, sadly.”

With a hand on their hip, and the other on their neck, Villain twisted Hero’s head slightly to the right, where their team knelt, eyes glazed, barely open enough to discern their shadows, they could see one turn away from their unintentional stare. 

“So what would a fitting punishment be,” they asked in the air, looking down at Hero “I accept suggestions, my light.”

_

Masterlist

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Decepticon purring headcanons!

There’s no Dreadwing or Airachnid in this. I forgot they existed.

Edit: Dreadwing has been added!

Shockwave: Purring is an emotional response, which means Shockwave cannot do it. At least, not voluntarily. Maybe the shadowplay isn’t 100% successful, or maybe the fact that it represses emotions doesn’t necessarily mean it prevents all physical response resulting from those emotions.

When Shockwave finds himself purring, it is completely out of his control. He doesn’t see it coming, and he cannot stop it.

It would confuse him. He doesn’t know why his frame is responding in this way because he literally doesn’t have the capacity to understand. Shockwave sometimes has trouble distinguishing emotions he sees in others, especially during complex situations or when the person reacts in an unexpected way. It would be even more difficult to understand how and why he reacts to emotions that are no longer there. I can see him alone in his lab, trying to understand where the sound is coming from until it hits him.

He has a very deep voice, very deep purr to match. It’s not a sound you would immediately register as a purr, and if Shockwave heard it post empurata recovery, he wouldn’t recognise it as his own at first.

Megatron’s purring is very loud and deep. He sounds like an idling tank, the sound alone making you aware of just how mighty he is. However, he does not do it very often, because there isn’t really anyone Megatron can open up to like that. It’s lonely at the top, especially when you’re purposefully building a reputation as someone to be feared even by your own troops. But he’s part of the “purring while recharging” crowd, and sometimes, when he’s really passionate during a speech or particularly enjoying a battle, you will hear the powerful rumbling of his engine.

Fun fact: Predaking would not be able to purr because he doesn’t have an engine, at least not in the way other cybertronians do. Predacons in general would instead show their trust by shutting their optics, the way tigers do because they can’t purr either. Maybe they’d be able to make a similar sound with their voicebox but it wouldn’t be a true purr, more like a growl.

I think this gif is really funny. He’s looking under his arm because he can’t see around his ridiculous bigass shoulder pads. Stupid bird /affectionate

Starscream, once he feels relaxed and safe, will purr excessively. It’s very easy to draw the sound out of him if he trusts someone. Unfortunately, this doesn’t really happen often. He has a reputation to maintain among the decepticons, and he is very good at hiding his true feelings. Also, most days he can’t really feel at ease on the Nemesis, he’s constantly watching his back for one reason or another. He does it quite often if he’s alone though, it’s a self-soothing thing. (Cats do that when they’re injured or stressed, and those two things happen to Starscream a lot during the show.) Although it would take a lot of time and patience for him to express a possible vulnerability someone by purring, it’s definitely possible. You would know he’s being genuine about his feelings when he does, because he can’t fake a purr.

Soundwave: Cybertronians that don’t speak are still able to purr because the sound comes from the engine, not the voicebox. But for Soundwave specifically, I’m not sure if it’d be considered breaking his vow of silence if he purred. Must be embarrassing either way. He would probably (attempt to) repress it in most situations. When he does purr, it’s barely audible. Probably makes a whirring sound, and you’d be able to feel the vibration all throughout his frame. Similarly to Megs however, Soundwave doesn’t really have anyone to open up to and be chill with. Personally I don’t ship them, but if you do it’d make sense for them to do it together. Being the only person the other can truly open up to and whatnot.

Knockout is probably the Decepticon who purrs the most openly. He’s not really ashamed to openly express his feelings. Unlike the high command, he has no reason to really hide it. Knockout has quite a powerful engine, and his purrs sound more like revving than idling.

On the other hand, Breakdown is not as loud as him. Actually, he’s surprisingly quiet for a bot his size. That’s not to say he doesn’t purr as often in Knockout’s company as the doc does in his. It’s a gentle, peaceful sound. You could fall asleep to it.

Dreadwing is not ashamed to let his feelings show. He is professional and composed, yes, but he’s never going to try to hide the fact that he’s happy. He considers doing so to be the same as lying. And sure, Decepticons usually aren’t averse to deceiving, but then again he isn’t your average Decepticon. When he purrs he does so proudly, not considering the continuous rumbling of his engine to be an expression of vulnerability. Rather, an expression of passion. His purrs are loud and make his entire frame vibrate.

He never purrs when he is fighting, considering doing so to be disrespectful but able to understand why someone like Megatron would.

That’s all, folks! Might to an Autobots version, but I don’t know them as well as the cons. That’s mostly be general headcanons.

[queenimmadolla]

eddie using wayne as a dnd prop

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR3topDo/

consider me inspired.

𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

dad!eddie masterlist

Summary: When his newborn baby keeps distracting the Hellfire Club during a session, Eddie gets a little creative with keeping them on track.

warnings: this body of work may give you baby fever. viewers are reminded that eddie munson cannot be your baby daddy. discretion advised. which just means this is fluff.

“. . . You approach the shopkeeper, wary of the many skeletal remains hanging from the ceiling. You’re not welcome, it’s apparent from the menacing look on his face, not helped by the flicker of the burning candles. Sir Soren notices the shopkeeper’s arm reaching slowly under the table—’’ 

  “AWWWWWWWW!” 

  Eddie snapped out of his revery, stuttering as the rest of Hellfire cooed and Dustin even squealed. He followed their gazes, to the newborn in his lap, weighing no more than six pounds and smaller than most of his big sister’s stuffed animals after his early arrival into the world, and he could see why they reacted like they did.

  His son was mid yawn, plump little lips stretched into a wide ‘O’, eyes squeezed shut.

  Once he was done yawning, the baby blinked owlishly, staring at nothing in particular with heavy lidded eyes.

  “Oh my god, he’s so cute.”

  “He’s so little! Look at those teeny tiny feet!” Dustin was making weird faces at baby Wayne, trying to get some sort of positive reaction out of him. 

  “Forget the feet, look at his hands!” Eddie glanced down to see what Erica was talking about, the newborn had somehow managed to link his  squishy fingers together. “He’s so distinguished! What a proper little gentleman!”

  “FOCUS!” Eddie snapped, sighing when his bellow spooked the baby in his hands. Not enough to make him cry, but Eddie had felt his little body go stiff. He placed one hand over his baby’s front and used the other to rub his back. Sure enough, Wayne relaxed into his hold, leaning forward onto Eddie’s forearm.

  “You can’t tell us to focus on what you’ve been bragging about is the most terrifying part of our campaign when you’ve got cutie patootie front and center.” Dustin argued.

  Eddie rolled his eyes, “I can put him down for his nap—’’

  “NO!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Don’t do it!”

  “That’s illegal!”

  “That’s what I thought,” Eddie was smug, leaning back into the recliner. 

  Since his graduation, Hellfire continued both as a school club and out of school with most of the members perfecting their characters and strategizing during their school meetups. Sessions took place on fridays at the Munson trailer.

  Normally, you’d use the Hellfire sessions for some mommy and daughter bonding time with Penny or on occasion, Penny would sometimes stay with him and cheer on the group.

  Bad daddy! Very bad daddy! She’d scolded him after a session a couple of months ago for a different campaign in which Will’s character was killed.

  You’d been low on groceries so you’d planned on running out for more while Hellfire took place but neither you or Eddie had taken the kids out solo yet.  

  It was easy when both of you went, but a routine trip to the grocery store seemed intimidating if you’d be trying to juggle a newborn and mischievous toddler. 

  Eddie convinced you to leave Wayne with him. It’d be easy, he was used to Penny’s crazy antics during those times she stayed with him during Hellfire, so a newborn who was barely active if he wasn’t sleeping would be a walk in the park. He was much more confident as a father this time around, actually knew what he was doing.

  There was only one problem: his baby was just too damn adorable.

  You’d found Penny’s old Hellfire onesie and while it was too big to button, you’d put a pair of baby sweats over Wayne’s little legs, tucking the onesie in. 

  Every single member had promptly lost their shit after seeing Wayne in his arms when they walked in.

  In fact, the session had started late as Wayne made his rounds through their arms. Amy—a new member, a freshman and a cheerleader (she was a little annoying with how often she brought it up)—hadn’t wanted to give him back but none of the party could focus with the baby in such close proximity so Eddie had reclaimed him. 

  If Wayne did anything remotely baby like, they’d go off course. Half an hour had passed and they’d barely made it from the town entrance to a single shop. An astounding amount of progress.

  “Get those big heads of yours back in the game,” Eddie cleared his throat, Dungeon Master persona taking over again. 

  “You enter the shop─”

  Wayne hiccuped against the skin of his arm where he was drooling, it was low and probably would have gone unnoticed had the party not already been paying an intense amount of attention to him. 

  Did you hear that?!

  Oh. My. GOD!

  Eddie, let me hold him.

  “That’s it, the shop is rigged with homemade explosives, Sir Soren triggered them, the shop blows up. You’re all dead. Session over.”

  They all groaned and protested.

  “Okay—okay! We’ll pay attention.”

  Hiccup.

  “OH MY GOD, HE DID IT AGAIN!”

  They all went into baby talk mode, each of them trying to grab his son’s attention, who managed to somehow avoid looking at any of them while staring off into their general direction.

  Eddie sighed, shoulders caving under defeat as he readjusted his hold on his baby, hands grasping his sides and supporting Wayne’s head as he lifted him to eye level.

  Wayne’s big, brown eyes focused on him immediately, making almost silent baby noises. Eddie softened, corners of his lips twitching out of endearment. 

  “You gotta help me out here, kid.”

  Hiccup.

  Eddie lowered him, pressing a kiss to his soft little nose.

  The baby let out a sharp squeak, thrusting his head forward. Eddie raised his chin to avoid the collision as his son’s head nuzzled and bumped against his collar, almost as if he was physically trying to seek more affection, encourage Eddie to give him more kisses.

  Baby neck control, man. So bobble-head like.  

  “What am I gonna do with you?” Eddie mumbled, bending to smother the lower half of his face into the fuzz on his baby’s head.

  It was then he noticed how silent the party was, attention finally focused on him. Amy practically had hearts in her eyes (though she had a crush on Will, who was too kind to burst her bubble), “Can I hold him again? Please?”

  “No way! That’s not fair, you already got to hold him!” Lucas argued.

  “Yeah, well so did you!”

  “I meant during Hellfire! You were holding him when we first came into town!”

  “That doesn’t count, Eddie took him away!”

  And so came another argument. Eddie wasn’t even slightly amused as he watched them go back and forth. Until, he had an idea. 

  Maybe they could focus with Wayne in close proximity after all.

  He shielded the back of his baby’s head with his hand, palm covering one ear and his fingers covering the other.

(a/n: yeah, his hand is bigger than Wayne’s head, go ahead and swoon)

  “SHUT UP!” The voices of the party died down immediately. “New rule…”

  ─

  You parked alongside the trailer, right next to Eddie’s van and unloaded your groceries. It wasn’t too much, three bags. 

  “I help, mama! I can cawwy!” Penny had insisted, leaning her body against your legs with her arms stretched up and you relented, taking out most of the items save for a few rolls of toilet paper from one bag to hand her. 

  “Such a good helper, thank you so much!”

  “Yes.” She hummed, a satisfied smile stretching her face. 

  The two of you climbed up the steps—you’d had to shift both the grocery bags in one arm to help her hop up the steps and unlock the door—and entered your home, immediately noting the tense atmosphere. 

  Lucas stopped his dialogue and the entire table turned to you with Eddie grinning from his place, lounged back in the recliner, “Hey, baby. Welcome home.”

  On impulse, your eyes scanned the room for your actual baby, spotting him in Lucas’ arms as the rest of Hellfire greeted both you and Penny.

  Penny put her bag on the ground near the counter and ran over to Eddie who helped her into his lap before his arms wrapped around her little frame to hold her in place while he smothered her face in kisses.

  She squealed and wiggled until he released her and she immediately slid out of his lap in favor of Will’s.

  “Sorry to interrupt, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

  “I always notice, why don’t you join us for this last bit?” Eddie asked, beckoning you over with his forefinger in a come hither gesture. 

  “I will as soon as I’m done putting this stuff away—don’t you dare,” You nearly glared at him as he began to rise in order to assist you, “I’ll be right there, it’ll take me like two minutes and you always put stuff in the wrong place.”

  Eddie smirked, “You say this, yet you find it every time.”

  Your glare was a playful one and you shook your head, gaze flickering back over as Lucas handed your baby over to Mike.

  “No, dude, it’s Gareth’s turn.”

  “Oh my bad.”

  Then the oddest thing happened. Mike handed your baby over to Lucas, who passed him to Amy, who then placed him in Gareth’s waiting arms.

  “Is there a reason everyone is playing hot potato with our child?”

  “He’s my potato…” You heard Penny mumble.

  “Outside of Hellfire he might be our son, but inside the Realm of Asmodeus, he is the Ioun Stone of Language Knowledge, a gift bestowed upon the party by King Wolfgang,” Eddie informed you, casting the teens before him an amused look.

  “Because no one could pay attention, the shopkeeper was able to curse them with different languages to create a communication barrier. Whoever holds the stone is understood by the members in their new respective languages. In other words, everyone gets to hold the baby, and move beyond just several feet. Everyone’s happy.”

  Dustin huffed, “Not me, you all left me for dead in the tunnels!”

  Eddie shrugged and checked the time on his watch, “Well, don’t spend your turn with the stone talking about how you want to eat its fingers and toes and maybe you’ll see the trap next time. It’s late anyways, pack it up. We’ll pick up here next week.”

  Without standing, Eddie made grabby hands in Wayne and Gareth’s directions, with the latter handing him over.

  You quickly put your groceries away while everyone stored all the props and joined Eddie, seating yourself on his lap, mindful of the baby resting on his chest.

  Penny was running around after them, trying her hardest to be Lucas and Will’s helper and the two of you watched her until Dustin piped in.

  “You’re not really gonna let them leave me in a ditch though, right?” 

  Eddie smirked and remained silent, one hand moving to slip behind you and rest against your hip while the other played with his son’s wrinkly fingers. 

  “Right, Eddie?”

  “Can’t understand you, you’re not holding the stone.”

[nrdmssgs]

Making Nikto a meal from his homeland 🥺

Maybe learning enough Russian to say that you care for him?

Masterlist

Love, I kinda-sorta have something similar here, but, I'm ready to feed this sweet guy his favorite meals on a daily basis.

Nikto doesn't get sentimental when it comes to his homeland. At least not when others are around. His house is not full of Russian books, shelves are not littered with trinkets from there, he doesn't watch films from his childhood with you. It might seem, that he's just indifferent to his own past, but you suspect, this is not the case.

He's stubborn, headstrong, “don't understand, what's there to miss” each time you ask him about his childhood. But notice little cracks in his demeanor, when he pauses a little too long, seeing something, that reminds him of home. It can be a dilapidated prefab panel block, any other person would avoid looking at. You already remember its funny name - 'panelka'. Sometimes it's just a streetlamp, captivating a gloving cone of snowflakes swirling around. You believe, there is no particular name for this, but in moments like this Nikto's gaze grows distant, and he mutters 'kak v detststve'.

You don't know what that means. The problem with Russian is that it's so terribly complicated to distinguish spoken words, that you fail to even write down what Andre is saying to himself in such situations to try to translate it later. When you ask him to teach you more words - he pulls a pitiful face and huffs.

"You don't need Russian."

It seems, he doesn't realize, how much you do need it. Because the cracks are right there, before your eyes. And behind them - his aching heart. Skipping a beat before an old ugly house, freezing under that streetlamp.

It's enough of joy to him to just open the door of your shared place and hear you there right away. You are enough for him to not be bothered by anything missing from his life.

That is why he's confused, when you meet him at the door and don't let take a single step in, before you recite a little speech, that you brought together with the help of online videos, some of your friends and a good dozen of dictionaries.

"...Ya skuchalali i dumala o tebya i potomy prigotovila odnu vesh`*"

He doesn't care for your little mistakes. Nikto pulls his mask and balaclava off, and you see little crinkles gathering around the corners of pale blue eyes. This man's eyes can scare, paralyze, haunt, but also - smile, shine with a silent, yet obvious gratitude. And something almost elusive - softness grows more present deep in his gaze with each your word.

You finish your speech and take his hand to lead him to the kitchen, but he pulls you back for a hug.

"Idi syuda*." And he hides you in his arms, softly cups the back of your head and buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. This phrase you know already: he uses it, when he desperately craves your proximity. His way of calling you to come closer, when all the languages, he speaks, mix together, or he's just tired.

No words shared afterwards - only soft touches, breaths calming down, deepening. Maybe you considered learning a few sentences in Russian not a big deal, but to him this means a lot. You, caring for the parts of his life, that even Nikto himself gave up on.

When you finally pull him to show, what you cooked, he's speechless. It takes some time to convince him to come closer to the dinner table. Such a powerful, dangerous animal, he now walks in the tiniest cautious step. As a wild dog, not sure, if he's about to get a treat or to get captured.

You giggle and point to every bowl, telling him, how you made it. It was a battle to remember, so many youtube vids watched, so many tries and fails now you have mad respect to all those Russian, babushkas...

You fall silent, when he slowly squats down, resting his chin on the edge of the table. He looks struck, disarmed and lost.

"All that... for me?" he asks barely audible, and you nod enthusiastically.

Nikto takes a deep breath and exhales familiar words.

"Kak v detstve*"

You are still not sure, what does it mean, but judging by how much kisses he gives you, this 'kakvdetstve' thing makes him really happy. A kiss after every second bite. Andre can't concentrate on either tasting your delicious food or tasting your soft blushing cheeks, so he combines two experiences.

He doesn't let go of you even a few hours later, when you two are in your bed already. You slowly fall asleep to the low rumble and purr of his breathing. Your face pressed to his chest, and the drape of his arm warmer than any blanket. The span of his fingers over your chest is a heavy comfort. You brought him home today and the only thing, he wishes for is to do the same for you.

...Ya skuchalali i dumala o tebya i potomy prigotovila odnu vesh`* - I missed you and thought about you, so I cooked you something. (although intentionally with mistakes)

Idi syuda* - come here

Kak v detstve* - like it was in the childhood

[yyawnjun]

GETTING USED TO US

biker!mingyu x reader ; summary an unexpected confession between really fast beating hearts ; 1k wc ; fluff !! ; third date w mingyu, nd they're so wipped for each other 🗣 ; likes comments and reblogs are really appreciated ; hope y'all like this mwah ♡ @kflixnet

the wind tickled your face and moved your hair back, you took deep breaths in all your lungs. you moved your arms up, stretching them as much as possible, closed your eyes, and breathed.

with these breathing control exercises, and combined with other concentration activities - you tried to concentrate just on one object and describe it as much as possible - you wanted to occupy your attention while waiting for mingyu. it would be your third date, and he promised you that he would pick you on the motorbike. his motorbike. the one that not even his closest friends (according to wonwoo) had ever managed to even touch. that's why you were nervous about that night, along with the fact that you really liked that boy.

you were waiting for the boy outside your house at 9 p.m., dressed comfortably but elegantly (mingyu promised to take care of the necessary clothing on the motorbike). you were trying to focus on the background music of the bar next door to block out the distracting thoughts that were racing through your head.  

all your stoic resistance suddenly collapsed when you noticed from afar a tall boy, with dark and slightly long hair, waving at you with a smile. he arrived carrying a bag and one with a motorcycle helmet. before you knew it, he came close to you, and looked at you through eyes that were filled with a thousand different emotions, shining through like lights in a completely dark sky. you were briefly startled back to reality by the gleam in his eyes, but it was short-lived as he called your name. "hey yn, sorry for my late. have you waited a long time for me?"

"not much. you gave me time to prepare me psychologically" you replied, nodding and looking towards his helmet. he smiled at you, and shortly after you naturally started walking towards where he had parked the motorbike. "is this your first time on a motorbike?" he asked you "I remember I had tried it once, but it was less powerful than yours"

"oh I see, you scared?"

"no," you replied convinced. "look, I see you smiling and opening your eyes wide. now I know how to recognize when you're lying" he replied amusedly. you were about to answer him, but just then you noticed that your eyes were really wide… you giggled and agreed with him. a few seconds later, you arrived at the motorcycle. it was bright red and appeared much larger in real person than in the pictures. mingyu instantly gave you a motorcycle jacket and a helmet that fit you perfectly.

“here, let me help you close it,” he told you while you were busy fixing your helmet. then you saw the boy leaning down and gently pulling the laces to close the helmet. he was almost on his knees on the ground, checking that the helmet was not too tight and that its length was right for turning on the headphones that would be connected to it during the trip. you remained stayed and barely swallowed so as not to make too much noise. just proximity had already allowed you to detect the pleasant and refreshing perfume that distinguished him. "perfect, we can go," he said as he immediately got up and put on his helmet. (it's pointless to recall how enchanted you were watching him as he closed his own helmet...)

he got on first and signaled for you to get on, so you did. lifting your left leg first, and helping yourself with your hands resting on the saddle you quickly climbed up. he still had his legs on the ground and the motorbike was spent. after getting in, you instinctively lean against his back. due to the poor visibility given by the helmet, you hadn't realized how big his back was and how well-defined his muscles were, despite them being hidden by the motorcycle jacket. “you can hold on to me…” you heard directly in your ears. you immediately understood that it was due to the Bluetooth headphones that connected the two helmets. “…or there is a handle behind which you can hold” mingyu finished the sentence.

"all right," you replied placing your arms around his waist, and your hands gently on his hips.

"are you ready?" he asked you. "let's go" you replied convinced and unconsciously squeezing your hands at his sides making him give in to that contact.

noise and lights. mingyu lifts his legs from the ground, lowers his helmet visor, and takes off. and so you left. You went through the city, till you reached more rural places and long trails between the fields.

the speed increased as soon as you arrived there. you felt your heart racing, but you were getting used to the adrenaline-fueled sensation. the tension in your hold had gradually relaxed, and the wind on you made you feel more alive than ever. "woah," you said without realizing it, out of joy.

in response, you heard his laugh and a slight increase in speed. that speed made us feel it, but your feeling of safety returned as soon as you leaned on the boy with your helmet. you wanted to talk and express the thousand emotions that had gripped you at that moment. "MINGYU THIS IS FANTASTIC OH MY GOD" 

"you'll have to get used to it," he replied

“yeah...I think I might get used to it"

"is that a yes?" the boy asked you with a seemingly confident voice. "are you asking me to get used to your bike or you?"

"to us"

and for the umpteenth time that day, that boy made your heart beat wildly.

"yes mingyu. it is a yes"

And as you rushed through the night, the stars witnessed that lovely first manifestation of you both.

[lyneira]

♡ *doki doki* ♡

-> things that would make their heart beat a little bit faster

Seeing you smile

Itto, Diluc, Childe, Venti, Thoma

He absolutely loves seeing your face brighten up with a genuine smile. It has him subconsciously mirroring you, his face also turning aglow (even if it's in the most subtle way for someone like Diluc) And especially when you're smiling at him, that love grows tenfold and his own smile grows deeper. He can't help but be full of adoration for you upon seeing that lovely expression. More so when that beautiful smile forms into a laugh, oh his heart is soaring.

That's why he often makes it a point to make you smile whenever he sees you. Whether it's doing something kind for you, telling you a joke, or surprising you with a gift, he's going to find any possible way to make you smile. Your smile is just so precious to him as he knows how fleeting happy moments like these can be, despite how much he wishes they'd last forever.

So he will protect it with all his might, and God forbid someone ever makes that smile turn upside down.

Feeling your touch

Xiao, Tighnari, Scaramouche, Dainsleif, Gorou

Your touch soothes them, assures them, warms them. You needn't even give them a big hug. The moment they feel your skin on theirs, even if it's barely a ghost of a touch, they're folding. After all, I honestly don't these guys would be used to skinship even though it's what they'd secretly crave for the most.

He nearly holds his breath as he feels your fingertips gently caress his skin because if he were to let go, he'd be all over you. Each time you touched him, he'd desire more of that warmth. He wanted more of you. You, who would put his mind at rest and feeling your touch reassures them of that. You make him feel safe

Staring deeply into your eyes

Alhaitham, Zhongli, Kaeya, Cyno, Kaveh

There's an unspoken trust and connection when you two gaze into each other’s eyes that there is no need for words to let them know that you love them.

Your eyes say words that your lips cannot express to its full extent, and most of all, your eyes can never lie. That's why when you look into his eyes with so much love, he knows that it's true and it makes him feel warm. He's so happy that there's no denying you love him as much as he loves you.

Hearing your voice

Ayato, Heizou, Kazuha, Albedo, Baizhu

I feel like these people wouldn't like hearing a lot of noise, but on the contrary, I would think that they didn't mind listening to you.

Your voice is such a distinguishable part of you which makes it his favorite. There's no one else who has that same exact tone of voice, the same exact intonation you use, the same laugh that you have, and all of the other sounds you'd make. They love it so much because it could only belong to you. And when his name would come out of your mouth so sweetly? He'd swoon a bit each time.

Any sound from you meant it was a sound from his favorite person in all of Teyvat. So if he wasn't looking and didn't know you were coming to see him, the moment you call out his name, he'd immediately know it was you and he'd smile. His beloved was here.

a/n: this prompt is heavily inspired by one of the click and drag games I made a while ago on @deescade (hehe, shameless plug per usual). I haven't created a genshin one yet, but I currently have a twisted wonderland one and obey me one if y'all are interested!

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hello friend I was wondering if I could request a fourth wing x reader fic with xaden? Maybe where instead of Violet being tortured by varrish its reader? And maybe we see a bit from xadens pov?

Hurts like hell

The pain was like no other. The concept of time had slipped away a long time ago. Your body was sore and stiff. Nor could you distinguish if it was the sound of your blood dripping on the floor or the condensation of the cellar walls. “This could be so much easier, wing leader”, Varrish's venomous voice fills your senses and suddenly you wish you hadn’t blinked. Hadn’t made him aware of your consciousness. “What do you know about the rebellion, girl?”, he takes fistfuls of your hair, yanking your head back. Your angry eyes glare up at him, “Eat. My. Shit”, you hiss through gritted teeth as the back of his hand slams into your cheek. The rings he’s wearing crack the scabbed-up cuts all over again.

And it’s as if he feels it. Every blow. Every cut. Every scream. Xaden had lost the amount of time he had vomited since they had taken you. Or more since you had saved Bodhi’s and Garrick's asses and was taken instead of them. Had he beaten both of them up for it? Yes. And he planned on repeating it once you were back in his arms.

“There’s nowhere else they could be keeping her”, Imogen says, tapping her finger on the map. Everyone had been looking for you for three days now. “Unless he’s usually magic he shouldn’t”, Bodhi adds, making Xaden let out a growl. It was driving him mad knowing that you were taking a beating for his slip-up. They weren’t being careful enough. They weren’t thinking about the consequences when they smuggled such a big load of weapons out. “Tonight. There’s an upper-hand meeting at seven that leech of a man should be there”, he grunts, his shadows drowning his hands in the darkness. “Imogen you will make sure he stays there for as long as possible”, and for the first time, she only nods, because she too can feel that Xaden is on his last straw. “You two will come with me. Fuck knows what they have going on down there”, running a hand through his hair, Xaden watches as both Bodhi and Garrick nod. Hold on, he pleads, just for a bit longer. Because he would kill them all. Burn this whole academy down if you were… and that’s enough to make him go ridge once more. He couldn’t let himself think about it.

His heart is beating so fast and so loudly that he doesn’t even hear his footsteps as they navigate the dark corridors of the dungeons. Checking every nook and cranny. Every room. Every floorboard. Until the metal gates leading to the back cellar catch Xaden’s eyes, and the way his shadows rush to it in a frenzy. His legs step forward before he even realizes it. Breathe hitching in his throat.

“Y/n”, he mutters rushing forward. His hands are shaking so much that he can barely push the hair away from your face, let alone look for the pulse. Face. Barely recognizable face. So cut up and bruised. Drowned in angry purples and blacks. “There’s a pulse”, Xaden’s head snapped to the side, he didn’t even realize that Garrick had followed him in here. “Faint but there”, he clasped Xaden’s shoulder, “But we need to get her out of here”.

And he tries, tries so hard to get the ropes of your wrists but it’s as if his own body is going into an overdrive. “Bodhi, get Xaden out of here”, Garrick orders, freeing your legs, reaching to press his fingers to your neck once more. “No”, Xaden argues, pulling at your hand, “Baby, you need to open your eyes”, he mutters looking at you, “Tell me that you hear me”. But there’s nothing. Just your limp body. Drowning in blood and filth. A firm palm presses against the back of his neck and his head is turned away from you.

“We are getting her out. Do you understand?”, Garrick’s firm words slip past the haze. “You will go with Bodhi because you can’t help out anymore and I will carry her and keep her safe”, and it’s no longer a question. It’s a statement. An order. One that Xaden follows. With Bodhi reassuring with the whole way. Catching one last look at you. Of Garrick carefully scooping you up as he mumbles, “Come on, girly, we need you here. Don’t you give up yet”.

Xaden doesn’t move from your side after Brennon meds your wounds. The Rioroso house was the only place they could think of that was safe for you. But even here his mind doesn’t ease up. It’s been a week and you haven’t shown any signs of waking up. So just like any other night when he came to visit you, he’s carefully running the healing balm into the cuts on your face and arms. Needing to know that he’s doing something. Helping in some way.

And it’s the pain sigh that leaves your lips when his fingers brush over the cut on your temple that has his stalling. “Baby”, he breathes, gaze now fully fixed on your face. His lips brush over your knuckles, “Please, open your eyes. I need to���”, and it’s as if his words coxed you out of your slumber as you blink rapidly. Scared eyes scanned the place.

Xaden leans closer, carefully bringing his fingers through your hair. Trying to soothe you with the feeling of him. “Xaden”, his name on your lips is enough to finally make him crack. He lowers his head onto your shoulder as ugly sobs echo through the room. He knows that he should be strong. To be calmer and colder but he was convinced that he was never gonna hear the sound of your voice ever again. “I’m here, my little fighter”, he sniffles, looking back up at you, “l will never let you hurt like that ever again”.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

(In)Delicate Touch

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei Dabi has been working as a professional sub at La Vénus for a year and a half and he really does enjoy working there. The rooms are great, the way they book clients is clear and comprehensive, and he likes his boss a fair bit too. But one night a client goes too far and Dabi finds himself in a bad drop and nursing wounds he didn't want. He expects to get fired over causing so much trouble, but Tomura is there to lend a hand in any way that Dabi needs.

Content: BDSM club, sex work, bondage, impact play, safe word use, subdrop, aftercare, hurt/comfort, hand job, anal fingering, anal sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, praise kink.

Word Count: 10878

La Vénus is the only place Dabi bothers to take contracts through anymore. The BDSM club is the best in Kamino and it is the only one that really keeps up with the professionals who want to use it as a place to do business. They even have a portal on their website so that professional doms and subs can put their profiles, their limits, their availability, and a secure line for contacting. La Vénus has rules, of course. They're considered independent contractors and they can be removed from the club whenever the owner dismisses them, but they take a very small cut of the money they earn, and the security they provide is well-worth the price. Dabi doesn't have to be scared of giving his apartment address to anyone or going to a secondary location with a client, and V ensures that they are always abiding by the rules by having a row of rooms for their working doms and subs that have open windows, so that anyone can see inside and be certain that their business is being conducted appropriately. 

If he also happens to think that the owner is hot as fuck with his hair pushed back, his deadly fucking quirk barely contained by his gloves, and his perfectly tailored black suit with a blood red coat, and getting to check in with him before every shift is fucking perfect, then that's his business. 

"Just one session tonight, Dabi?" Shigaraki asks, checking his phone for the contract he and his dom for the night submitted for use of one of those rooms. 

"It's supposed to be a long bondage one." He explains. 

"Hmm, are you sure that all of the information you entered is correct? I thought you only used silk and no nylon for your staples." Dabi is genuinely surprised Shigaraki has paid that much attention to him, or at least to his preferences. He's got upwards of three hundred people in this club every night of the week and he's never seen the other man take a day off in the year and a half he's been subbing here. Not only that but he's got twenty doms and subs on rotation, he didn't think that anyone would bother to remember more than the names of the people he's been working with. 

"It was his first time booking, he might have mis-clicked. Can I still make adjustments to the room setup?" There's only another twenty minutes till the club opens its door and Dabi is supposed to be alone for at least an hour before his client arrives. He was planning on putting on a nice little peepshow for people, but he'd rather make certain that the room and everything is all set up for his session with a client. 

"Of course. I can have silk brought to your room." He agrees. "Do you want red to... match?" Dabi's already put up his coat and bag in the private changing area that the performers have access to, so he's just in his dark red lacy panties and the silver body chains with small red crystal dangles hanging off of them. He used to go for a blue look, but to distinguish workers from anyone else just looking to partake at the club, all of the performers from doms and subs to strippers and workshop teachers have to wear a deep red leather collar with La Venus embellished on it in silver foil. He didn't want the accessory to look out of place, and pivoted to wearing red instead of blue at the club. 

"If it's not too much trouble." Dabi always likes to think about his optics. Other people he's talked shop with around the club say they're usually focusing on a scene when they're in it, and that's great that works for them, but Dabi wants to be certain that he's staying constantly vigilant, and that he's setting himself up for future clients too. If their sessions are all going to be observable, then he is going to be a hell of a sight to see, and he's gonna make sure that he's got his aesthetic dialed in. 

"It's no trouble at all, Dabi." Shigaraki tells him easily.. "Does everything else seem alright?" Dabi reviews the contract again, and that looks like the only thing that was entered wrong, and he nods. "Alright, you're going to be in L2 today," he reaches back on the wall, unlocking the glass door and retrieving the key for the right room. His favorite room actually. He likes being on the left side because the bounce light is a little more diffused from that side, giving people a clearer view through the window, and he likes being in rooms two or three in that hall because those are the ones that people tend to linger in front of more, not wanting to clog up the entryway as they try to get to the seating areas that also line the hall. 

"Thanks, Shigaraki." He takes the key, but the owner doesn't let go of the tag for a second. 

"You know you can call me 'Tomura'." 

"Maybe when I'm off the clock, boss." He retorts easily. No matter how hot the other man is, Dabi doesn't want to get distracted. This is his job, he can't go around fucking that up by getting familiar or, god forbid, flirting with the guy who's establishment pays his bills. 

Shigaraki, for his part, looks wryly amused and lets him head out after that, the next person slipping in to confirm their night's plans as well. Dabi heads to his room to finish getting ready and wait for his silk. Maybe he will have a chance to put on that peep show after all. 

///

Dabi spends the first hour that V is open teasing his nipples and palming himself through his panties on the bed getting himself achingly hard and so close to the edge, but easing off of his peak to keep himself 'unspoiled' for his client who asked for him to be pent up and a little frustrated. Definitely a streak of sadist in him, but Dabi isn't a stranger to that, and he's looking forward to getting thoroughly worked over. 

Jin, one of the security team he recognizes at a glance, brings the new client to the door and Dabi is fully not expecting the blonde man to be so much taller than he is even after knowing he would be from his ID when he booked the session. Dabi steels his nerves. "Goto, it's good to meet you, I'm looking forward to our session." He starts with a pleasant smile. "If we can just re-touch on rules and boundaries, then I'd be happy to submit to you. Would you like to sit?" 

"Yeah, sure." The blond only has one eye, his prosthetic in the missing one looking like it's been forced into place with the metallic spikes around it that is kind of intimidating. He sits and Dabi starts to go through his usual spiel, he restates his hard limits, that they'll be using the traffic light system, the hand gestures that he will use if at any point during the session he goes non-verbal for any reason, and then he turns back to ask if there's anything he needs to go over as well. Goto is flat and unmoved when he says, "No." Sounding more bored than anything and Dabi's skin prickles with the first stirrings of discomfort. "Why are there silks instead of ropes?" 

He frowns slightly, "During the consultation, I said that I couldn't use rope over my staples. Since you said you wanted a heavy rigging session, I had it switched for silk since that's something my skin can tolerate." 

The other man considers the silk for a second before scoffing softly. "Fine. But you can take impact, can't you? If we're using silk, I want to use a paddle instead of my hands." 

Dabi doesn't normally love to use a paddle, it's wider and less accurate, meaning partners can overlap his staples on accident and leave him with fresh wounds. "I think that a riding crop would leave prettier marks, don't you, Sir?" He offers instead carefully. 

Goto looks him up and down and Dabi tries to look smaller and softer for him. Clearly he's more of a sadist than he'd originally thought, but the pay for this session is half of his rent this month. He can put up with this if it gets him what he needs. "Fine." Dabi expects him to ask about his levels, to get the toy off of the offered wall of them and test his tolerance. It's good practice for a session like this, but Dabi figures, 

"Remember, club rules state no impact with any implements across the face, and only light impact across the stomach and places prone to injury. My staples are fragile, so please avoid those where you can, but anywhere else is alright." 

"Yeah, got it, can we get started now?" The blond nearly snaps. Dabi bristles, but says nothing. It's his first time at V as far as he said during the booking. Maybe he's uncomfortable knowing the far wall is a window, even if it looks like a mirror from their side. 

He makes concessions on his politeness and breathes out a slow breath, trying to shake his tension and allow himself to slip into the headspace that he needs to. "Of course we can, if that would please my master." He simpers sweetly, trying for doe-eyed and helpless. 

The man starts to loosen some of his tension and tosses the jacket he was wearing over his black mesh tank top onto the chair in the corner of the room for more intimate cucking or voyeuristic sessions. "That's better, whore. I better not hear another mouthy word out of you, or I'm going to have to get rough." 

Not his favorite type of scene, but Dabi is a professional sub, he submits.

///

Goto is rough with him, and he likes his knots tight. They're loose enough, he thinks, for maybe one of Dabi's fingers, but his feel bigger as they move over his skin and knot them into place. He works methodically, not paying much attention to Dabi himself as he works. He occasionally pulls at the silk with an unhappy set around his mouth, but he clearly knows what he's doing, and Dabi finds himself over the course of an hour, knotted into a few different positions, as the other man gets a good look at his body and how flexible he is like this, before he ends up in a ball tie, tipped on his side. When the ropes are secure, thankfully, the other man doesn't actually also reach for a ball gag. He just puts his bigger hand over his ass, and palms him through his panties. He's not really doing much but groping him, and it doesn't really feel good, but Dabi moans anyway. 

The yelp he lets out the next second is real though as the riding crop comes down across the back of his tied thighs so hard that Dabi would put the pain at a seven already. The sound splits the air and he nearly chokes on his breath. 

"Not another nasty sound out of you, whore. You're not here to feel good, you're here for me to use." 

Dabi holds up three fingers to show that he understands, and then bites his lower lip hard as another crack comes down, this time just beneath his ass. And the next overlaps the first. Then across his exposed hip, along the outside of his thigh. It hurts, going up to a nine and holding there as the man hits him again and again with the crop. he goes over his scars, over his healthy skin, and the blood rushing up to the freshly forming welts as they swell, puts an uncomfortable pressure along his seams, especially around his thighs. He swears that between the ropes holding his legs together and pressed to his chest, and the ache of the impact, he's going to pop out his staples along those seams. 

"Y-yellow," he manages as he's panting between blows. 

"Thought I fucking said to keep your mouth shut?" The riding crop gets tossed to the bed, and in that second, Dabi thinks that he is setting it aside to check in. 

But the next robs him of that delusion entirely. Goto's hand fists in Dabi's hair, and he grabs hard to force his face into the sheets. Dabi barely manages to tuck his chin tighter to his chest so that he isn't smothered into the pillows and unable to speak as the man cuts off the other way he would be able to signal that he needs to stop. "Red!" He cries out, wanting to be let up immediately. 

"God, you whores here have had it too good. Thinking you can tell me what to do? When to stop? You need to learn your fucking place." He snarls, using one hand to hold him down while his other goes to-- Dabi hears the metal and leather sliding through each other as his belt is pulled. Fuck, fuck, fuck, 

"Red! Stop--" He hears the other man spit into his hand and his whole body goes hot with his terror. No, no, no, even if he hasn't moved his panties out of the way yet, if he gets that, or anything else in his seams when they hurt so badly, when they're so close to open, then he could get sick. He can't get sick again, he can't. Dabi tries to fumble for his quirk desperately, wanting to burn the silk from around his body, wanting to scare this fucker before he does anything worse to him--

"Don't you know that I own you?" 

It's like every string in him has been cut. Dabi's whole body goes so instantaneously numb that he can't make his quirk work. I own you. It's not Goto's voice that echoes in his mind. Not pain hits his body as he is shunted so sharply to hiding in his room with Natsuo as their father snarls at their mother. It's a stupid fear, it's an old helplessness that he shouldn't let distract himself now, not when he can't stop that memory, but he has to stop this disgusting man from ruining him even more as he hears his hand moving roughly over his cock. 

"Don't!" His voice doesn't even sound like his own, he can barely recognize it. It hasn't been filled with such sharp, anguished terror since he was burning--

"Get away from him!" There's movement, shouting, a scream behind him, but Dabi is only shakily trying to push his quirk away now, so scared he may light the bed on fire accidentally. He can't hurt his seams again, can't use his quirk right now, he'll burn it all to the ground and he's already destroyed whatever place he had here. Dabi sobs against the bed, his fear too big and sharp to make sense of whatever is happening beyond his body. 

There are voices, he thinks, furious and short, and the kind of whispers that come in the wake of something awful. He's the awful thing. He lost control of a session. He's the one who's broken, bleeding now, if not from his seams, than from his eyes as he sobs on the bed. 

"Dabi," the voice comes, addressing him and the bed dips just the slightest bit. He doesn't know who's speaking to him, just that it's not that man. This voice is low and trying to soothe him, he thinks, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the fear choking his chest and his quirk that is rioting beneath his skin. "Dabi, you're starting to smoke." The voice is so gentle. "No one is going to hurt you anymore." He waits but Dabi doesn't believe him. People are always hurting him. He's always hurting himself. Why would this be any different? He sobs harder and there is a longer pause, probably as the new voice decides where he deserves to be hurt when he's already been broken so thoroughly. "Can I touch you, Dabi?" 

He barely croaks, "R-red--" Through his sobs. He needs it to stop. He has to make it stop. 

"The scene is over, Dabi," the voice promises him. "I just want to untie you. Don't you think it would help if you could sit up, Dabi?" 

Would it? Could he make himself small on his own terms then? He sniffles, but it doesn't stop the tears. He barely manages to nod. 

"Okay, I'm not going to touch you. You just need to hold still, alright?" Dabi does his best to do as he's told, but tensing his muscles lightly makes them start to shake hard. He feels a little tug at one of the silks and then he's got the whisper of... something barely heavier than air against his skin, and the restrictive silk is gone. It happens twice more and then Dabi is able to slump against the bed, his limbs under his own control again, and Dabi does his best to push himself up, mind still swimming through a rolling sickness. Sick. He could get sick again. He could get hit again. He needs to focus. 

It feels impossible to do as he forces his mostly numb arms beneath his chest as he tries to turn around. His vision swims through his tears and he doesn't find the hulking man with blond hair anywhere in the room. The far curtain has been drawn over the viewing window, and Shigaraki is sitting at the foot of the bed, his hands resting in his lap. No, no, no. Further panic makes his ribs constrict sharply around his lungs. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--" he sobs immediately. He's ruined everything, he's made so much trouble for the club. Oh-- oh god, he's really never going to be able to work here again. He's going to have to go back to what he did before--going to have to take on more clients like Goto, going to have to risk his health, his safety-- 

"Dabi, you don't need to apologize. I just need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?" 

He should be able to, shouldn't he? That's supposed to be the simplest thing a person can do, but he can't quite manage it past the tiny hiccupping sips of air that he's making himself in past the hitching sobs that are shaking his body. 

"...Okay, can you look at me, sweetheart?" Shigaraki's voice goes even softer, and Dabi forces himself to peek up at him from the tight hunch he's made of himself up against the headboard. "That's perfect, now I just need you to follow my breaths. You don't have to be perfect," he soothes, "I just want you to try. Can you try for me, Dabi?" 

Shigaraki takes a slow breath in, holds it for a few seconds, and then he lets it out in a long steady stream. Dabi doesn't think he'll ever breathe like that again, not when his chest is so tight, but he isn't being yelled at yet, isn't being hit, and he doesn't want that to change. He tries so hard for the first few breaths, but he can't stop crying for long enough to manage it on those. 

But Shigaraki smiles at him anyway, "That's it, you're already doing such a good job for me, sweetheart. Can you keep going?" He resumes the patterned breathing, and the soft encouragement makes Dabi try harder. He's already made such a mess, he has to be at least capable of doing this right. 

He forces himself to breathe. Each one stutters and stalls until his tears aren't so constant, until they're just a scattered few droplets on his cheeks and his lungs are able to fill a little more. In some vague, dizzy shadow of his mind, he thinks he was hoping that breathing again would make the awful, cold pit in his gut disperse a little. That maybe the breaths would loosen that knot of dread, but he doesn't feel that happen. His dread stays settled against his nerves as those wake up after shorting out to try to protect him from what was happening to his body. Suddenly, he's not just scared, exhausted, and sick to his stomach, he's in pain too, and he starts to shake, a thin whimper leaving him as he looks down at himself. He has to uncurl his knees from his chest to see the side of his thigh that was exposed to the crop. 

The welt he finds across his scar is so puffy that he can see it clearly, and it's shiny. The color is too dark for him to tell if it's blood, sweat, or if it's because it's just so swollen around the fresh wound, but it hurts and he needs... something. He can't get sick again, but he is having such a hard time reordering his thoughts, figuring out what he needs to do next when everything hurts and his mind is so foggy. 

"Are you in pain, Dabi?" Shigaraki keeps talking to him softly, and Dabi barely manages to nod. "I want to get you something to drink and some medicine, but there isn't anything here." He explains carefully. "Do you think that we can move to somewhere else where I can get you those things?" 

He doesn't want to hurt anymore. He doesn't want to get sick. Dabi barely manages to nod his head, the action feeling like it takes every ounce of his strength.

"Good, do you think you can stand by yourself, sweetheart?" 

Dabi doesn't know. He feels weak and his legs hurt more than anything else. He is shaking already when he just manages to uncurl his arms from around them. It's the first flicker of sense that goes through his head when he kicks off his pumps before even attempting to put his feet against the floor. Shigaraki stands as well. 

"Can I come closer, Dabi? You can hold onto my arm if you need help." He smiles at him as he makes the offer and Dabi doesn't have the energy to speak. He manages to hold three fingers against the rumpled sheets and moves to the edge. The shock of the cold floor against his bare feet is such a small thing to make him uncomfortable, but everything inside of him is already so messy that he can't tolerate it, pulling his legs back up. "...Is it too much?" 

He manages another tiny nod. 

"Okay, can I pick you up? I promise I'll be very gentle, and when I put you down, you'll be able to have some water and something for the pain." 

He doesn't want to think. He doesn't even want to exist right now. He leaves his fingers open against the sheets. Shigaraki can do whatever he wants to him now. He's already broken. What's another fracture in his skin? 

"I'm going to pick you up. I need you to keep your hands where I can see them so I know if it's hurting." Why bother? He won't stop if it does. 

It doesn't hurt when Shigaraki picks him up. He's careful as he lifts him off of the bed, supporting his back with one arm and the other hooking under his knees instead of his thighs to keep as much pressure away from the welts as possible. Dabi is lifted and he gives up. He tucks his face against Shigaraki's white shirt and closes his eyes as exhaustion sweeps so completely through him. 

///

He's not certain how long passes between being carried from that room to finding himself blinking as he notices that there's something sugary on his tongue. It's soda, he realizes after a second, lemon-lime soda. The sweetness of that helps him to take stock of other parts of his body. He is aching and sore. His broken body hates him again and it's his fault. It's always his fault. He should have known better, should have been more careful. But he wasn't and now he's hurting and he deserves it. 

Dabi pulls away from the straw that's being offered to him and tries to take in his surroundings. They're in one of the private rooms, the actual private rooms of the club, and instead of having the lights low and a thrum of music going through the sparse bedroom, the lights are on all the way and it's as quiet as it can be with the activities of the club still filtering in from past the door. Shigaraki is sitting on the chair that has been dragged to the edge of the bed that Dabi's sitting on. The backs of his legs hurt, and he shifts a little on the edge as the other watches him, taking the cup away and putting it on the side table when he finishes with that. 

"...I'm sorry." His voice sounds like it's been completely scraped raw as he tries to make his head clear. He needs to go. He made so much trouble. He has to leave. If he leaves by himself, at least, then he won't have to be kicked out. He would rather save some small thread of his dignity than have to give that up too. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi." Shigaraki's voice is that same low, careful tone that he doesn't deserve. "Are you still hurting? I had Yumina bring some of the bruise salve. Do you want to put some of that on?"

The welts definitely hurt and he would really like for them not to anymore, but he just shakes his head and starts to stand. "Can I get my stuff before I go?" His voice shakes as he asks. It wouldn't be the first time he's just been kicked out without any of his things. But he doesn't know how he's going to even make his rent without V. He can't have to start over with his whole life without his phone too. 

"... If you think you're ready for that, then I need to know if you want me to call the police." Shigaraki asks. 

Dabi blanches, fear swelling through his chest and making it go tight. "What?" Did he break his contract with the club? He thought he would be fired, not arrested. 

"Do you want to press charges against him? I know it's difficult in situations like this, but if you want to have him arrested, we can do that. If you want..." Shigaraki's expression blackens, "Other repercussions made, then we can decide on that as well." 

Him? His head feels like it's still full of fluff. "...Aren't you mad at me?" His voice is tiny when he manages the question. 

That replaces the darkness on his features with something softer and more surprised in an instant. "Of course not, Dabi. You did everything you needed to, there's no reason for me to be upset with you." He watches Dabi as he says those words and Dabi has no idea what his face does, but he is even more deliberate and careful as he keeps speaking. "I'm sorry that happened, I'm sorry that I didn't get there faster. But you're not in trouble, and we're going to make sure that Imasuji never does something like this again." 

His seams beneath his eyes hurt and he feels something hot and wet drip against his thighs. 

Shigaraki sees him start to cry and shifts slightly before catching himself. "Can I touch you?" 

Dabi hesitates, half expecting to be hit again, but he finally gives a tiny nod. Shigaraki gathers him up, and pulls him close, tucking Dabi's head beneath his chin and getting him to sit at an angle in his lap so that the worst of the welts don't have any pressure against them. And then his hands start to pet so gently over his skin. He holds him and he speaks, 

"I'm so glad you called out for help. I'm so sorry that happened and I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that nothing like this happens again. I promise that you're going to be safe if you want to keep working here." 

"...I can stay?" 

Shigaraki looks at him like he wishes he could pull all of the pain out of Dabi's skin. He curls a hand gently around the back of his neck and he rests their foreheads together. "Of course you can, sweetheart. I wouldn't want you anywhere else." 

The tears fall a little faster and Dabi tangles his fingers into Shigaraki's shirt, clinging to him as he begins to sob fresh. 

///

It's not until he notices the pain getting more intense in his legs that he tries to take stock of himself again. Shigaraki reaches over to the side table and takes one of the tissues to help dab away the blood from under his sore seams and crusted under his staples. He hisses slightly from how broken and achy they feel and is hit with another jolt of fear over how bad they must be. 

"Are you in more pain?" Shigaraki glances at his watch, "You can have another dose of pain medicine if you want it." 

Dabi doesn't remember even taking the first, but that must mean it's been hours since the last one and he feels sharply guilty for forcing the other to stay for so long dealing with him. "I'm okay," he can be. He will be, he thinks. Maybe. If he's not actually broken from everything that happened before. "I need to go home--" He tries to shift and can't help the sharp sound of pain he makes as he puts a little more weight on the welts and his aching seams. 

"Dabi, I won't make you have anything you don't want, but I need to know you're going to be alright if you decide to leave." 

He swallows, not wanting to look at him, but not trusting his muscles much after how much just that little shifting hurt. "...I need my medicine." He admits quietly. 

And Shigaraki doesn't blink. "Okay, is it in your bag? Do you want me to have someone bring it for you?" 

"...Okay." 

Shigaraki shifts his hold on Dabi's body slightly and he sees him pull out his phone and shoot off a text to Jin to have someone bring Dabi his things. He gets an affirmative, and after just a couple of minutes, Shigaraki is picking him up again so that he can put him on the edge of the bed while he goes over to the door to retrieve the bag. He brings it over and Dabi pulls out the alcohol wipes and his salve before being faced with the location of the hurts and how he's going to manage to check them. 

"Why don't you lay on your stomach? I can help you." He offers gently. "You can watch in the mirror and let me know if there's anything you need." 

He considers protesting, but he doesn't have a better option if he wants to see how these look and how fucked he's going to be trying to get back into his tight leather pants before he walks home. If he can even manage that. "Okay," he agrees quietly, making himself lay on his stomach, the chains and crystal beads pressing against his skin. He takes a shaky breath and turns his head so that he can look at himself in the mirror that's suspended above the bed. 

The welts are dark and crusted with tacky deep red scabs at some of the highest points and the places where they overlap with each other. That's not good, but Dabi is more scared of his seams as his attention goes lower. His staples are doing their best to keep his skin together, the sections there so swollen with irritation from either side of his skin being abused that they've nearly expanded past their limits, but they are, technically, shut. He gives a soft sigh of relief. Shigaraki makes sure he's watching and then starts to clean him up with gentle, deliberate movements, always giving Dabi enough time to ask him to stop before he touches the next place on his body. And each touch is light and careful. His skin is cool through his gloves as he opens the alcohol wipes and dabs away the bits of blood before going to the salve Dabi spends most of his money making sure he never runs out of. 

He immediately lets out a shaky sigh of relief at the first cold touch of the creme against his skin. The medicine is a thin antibiotic lotion that has a slight numbing effect that takes away a lot of the lingering discomfort. Knowing that he is getting what he needs, that his seams aren't actually open, that helps to take away the threads of fear in him, and he lets himself watch Shigaraki in the mirror as he rubs the medicine into his skin. 

He moves in soft circles, making sure to get along the welts and along each line of his seams and puncture of his staples. His hands are delicate, not looking to hurt him any more than he already has been tonight, and Dabi... starts to drift as the fear, pain, and worry ebb. He's being taken care of. He gets that so rarely. Normally he barely lets himself have a minute or two of aftercare once as session is over, and even then, he's usually using that time to try and get his client to book another session while they're still coming down from the high of their domination or while they're still aching for a release they'll need to find on their own elsewhere in the club. But this feels good. He can't remember the last time someone else helped him put the medicine on his skin. 

More of the pain fades as he finally allows himself to relax a little more against the sheets and he sighs. Shigaraki's hand stills for a second, but when Dabi timidly leaves three fingers open against the sheets, he feels three open in return against his thigh before he keeps tending to the wounds and swollen areas of skin. It puts a soft kind of warmth in his body that makes him want more of that. He's being careful, he's listening to him and taking care of him. Dabi wonders distantly if it says something sad and pathetic just that is enough to make his body temperature creep up a little higher the touches continue. 

He doesn't mean to let out the little moan that slips his lips when Tomura's fingers move along his seam towards his inner thighs, but it feels so nice to have a soft touch there. Dabi opens his legs a little more and shifting against the sheets lets him feel that his cock has started to harden too. Tomura stops when he hears that soft sound of pleasure and Dabi is reluctant to look over his shoulder to see his face, instead watching him stiffen over him in the mirror. A sharper fear goes through him. He wasn't supposed to make any noises, was he? Is he going to be hit again?

"Does that feel better, baby boy?" Tomura's voice is a little thicker, lower, and his fingers trail from the inside of his thighs along to the outer edge so that he's not touching any hurts anymore. And he puts two fingers against Dabi's skin, waiting. 

Is this a scene? Could it be? Dabi wants to take away the unpleasantness still echoing around in him from what came before. But... he doesn't know if he'll be allowed that, even when it's Shigaraki's collar looped around his neck. "...Yes, Sir. More?" He chances, keeping his hand as is. 

"Of course baby, just have to tell me if there's anything you don't like." He strokes along his thighs again, and Dabi watches in the mirror as he goes from just trailing two fingers over his skin, to both of his palms open, the soft leather touching his seams and healthy skin. This touch goes between his legs, up a little higher, light and good. A nice touch after the angry ones, and Dabi lets out a tiny sigh. "Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" 

He tucks his face into the sheets, giving up on the mirror, and manages a nod against them. Dabi doesn't normally get to be soft after something so rough, but the contrast feels so good. Like it's putting fluff around all the hurts that were written into his soul and skin. He shifts and Tomura's hands immediately retreat, but Dabi only wanted to push up a little, getting his knees a little more under him so that he would be able to lift his hips slightly as he starts to get harder, and to spread his legs a little more. 

"Good boy," Tomura murmurs, his hands going back to his skin and tracing circles up his thighs, deeper between them. He goes higher, but not where Dabi wants them. He wants something that feels good now. Tomura's already made things so much better. He can take away the last sharp bits of unhappiness in him, he knows he can. "You just have to show me what you need, baby boy, I'll give you anything." And he sounds a little breathless as he speaks. 

It makes the neediness in him go a little hotter and he makes himself let go of the sheets so that he can reach back and find Tomura's arm. He hooks his fingers in the edge of his gloves and feels his face go hot as he pulls at him. He lets his arm be moved and Dabi brings it further between his legs, until his fingers are grazing the edge of his panties. Tomura takes over from there and Dabi is holding onto the sheets again as he moves his fingers lightly over his covered balls and up to his hardening cock. 

"You want to feel good, sweetheart?" His voice going hotter. 

Dabi manages a little nod, still certain he won't be allowed that after before. 

Tomura's fingers stroke up his cock, cupping him through the lace as he hums softly. "I can do that, baby boy, but I need you to move for me." His hand retreats and Dabi wants it back, so he lets Tomura get him onto his back, and Dabi is confronted with the sight of himself in the ceiling mirror. His face is flushed and still a little blotchy from crying. He looks dazed as the chains glitter in the light of the room, his legs spread wide, knees bent to keep the worst of the welts from touching the bed. And his cock is hard and stretching his panties. Tomura moves between his spread legs, leaning over him carefully and blocking his view in the mirror. And there's not a trace of cruelty in his look. His eyes are warm and he's smiling at Dabi softly. "Can I take off your panties, sweetheart? I want to make your pretty cock feel good." 

Dabi bites his lip and nods. 

"Can I hear your color? It will make me feel better if I know you're using them." He asks, reaching to cup his cheek and stroke his thumb just under one of his aching seams. 

"Green, Sir." 

"Good. But you don't have to call me that, baby boy. I can be whatever you need from me right now. What do you want, sweetheart?" 

He wants to be safe. He wants to feel good. He wants the softness and sweetness that he never gets, let alone after something bad has happened. And he wants to be small in the wake of that. "Daddy," he whispers, his face going so hot with his shame, terrified that he can't have this either. 

Tomura's smile makes his eyes warm too as he leans over him, his hand shifting so that he can push his hair from his forehead. The kiss he presses there feels like a balm as much as his medicine did against his hurts. "You're doing such a good job for me, baby boy. Lift your hips a little more." 

He does and Tomura makes sure the thin fabric doesn't rub against any of the welts as he pulls his panties down his legs. Dabi kicks out of them when they're low enough and then he chances reaching for Tomura, getting one hand in his hair that is as thick and soft as he's always wondered. He lets himself be pulled up, but when Dabi wants a hard, messy kiss to reassure him that this is something he can have, he's instead given one that is so soft and achingly tender that it makes him breathless. His whole body gets a little warmer as Tomura kisses him, his hands moving lightly over his skin, stroking up his thighs before he shifts over him.

 Dabi almost whines, but he feels him reaching and hears the rustle of plastic as he finds the bowl on the side table that holds the variety of lubes that are in every room for the club-goers' use. Tomura picks one at random and brings his other hand up to tear it open, and when he wraps his hand around Dabi's length, his glove glides across his skin and makes Dabi's toes curl with pleasure. The touch there, after the pain from before, after denying himself even earlier, makes him gasp, wrapping his arms around Tomura's neck to keep him close as he touches him. 

He moans, his hips moving, trying to get more of that good sensation after a night of bad. "Daddy," he pleads. 

"I've got you, baby boy." He murmurs, pressing a kiss softly to the seam aching under one of his eyes. His fingers move over him, making sure to rub along his ladder and around his head, bringing Dabi's pleasure higher. He whimpers when he tightens his thighs around Daddy's hips and it makes his hurts ache a little. But he doesn't have to hurt for long. Tomura immediately shifts so that he has one hand under his hip, lifting Dabi's weight a bit and moving it higher on his back, making sure that none of the welts are rubbing against the sheets and that he doesn't have to try to get him closer, not when he's holding onto him, his legs supporting his lower half. And letting him feel Daddy's cock is getting hard too where it's pressed against him. 

Tomura doesn't pay his own arousal any attention, his hand moving deliberately over Dabi's cock, searching and finding every place that makes his pleasure sharper. His body is already so exhausted from the night, that it's not hard for him to get lost in the feelings, for his head to start to float into that soft good space that makes him love being a sub. And when he moans and tries to move into the pleasure, he doesn't get yelled at, he doesn't get hurt, instead Daddy gives him more kisses. 

"There, you're doing such a good job, baby boy. I'm so happy that you're letting me help you feel good, sweetheart. You're so pretty when you're blushing like this." And the words put more of that needy, squirmy heat in him through the heavy fog rolling in. He twists his wrist as he strokes him and Dabi moans loudly, hips jumping up into the touch. Daddy sees how much he likes that and he keeps doing it on each stroke, making him shiver and tremble, moans spilling off his lips and his fingers tugging at Daddy's suit jacket as his cock leaks. 

It only takes a few more of those tight, perfect strokes before Dabi's back is arching again, smoke curling out of his throat, as he cums, spilling all over Daddy's hand and his own stomach. He gasps, trembling against the sheets as that bliss soaks through his veins and leaves him absolutely boneless. 

"Perfect, baby boy. You did such a good job for me. I'm so proud of you, precious." He starts to shift, reaching for another wipe to clean him up and even floating, Dabi knows he doesn't want to get cleaned up yet. He doesn't want to stop. He wants Daddy to make him feel so good that he doesn't even remember the welts against his thighs. 

"Daddy," Tomura pauses and Dabi struggles to find more words, "More? Please?" He tries to be careful, making sure to only put pressure on the inside of his thighs as he tightens them around Tomura's hips. And then he rolls his hips down, breathless when he feels how big and hard Daddy's cock is. 

"Are you sure, sweetheart? All I want is to take care of you. We don't need to do anything else." He reassures him, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Dabi knots his fingers in his jacket a little tighter and pulls at it, nodding. "Green. Please, Daddy?" 

"Of course, precious. But if you change your mind, if you don't like something, all you have to do is tell me, and then we'll be all done, okay?" 

"Mmhm," he mumbles, pulling at his shirt again. 

Tomura gives him another kiss, and then only partially disappoints Dabi because he does have to move away if he wants to strip himself of his clothes, the fabric getting tossed item by item onto the chair until he's only wearing his gloves. Only what he needs to make certain that Dabi is safe before he moves back between his legs and kisses his lips again. Dabi loses himself in that, his hands now getting to move over all of the pretty pale muscles that have been hiding under his clothes. 

Daddy's hands move over his skin too, touching his chest, pushing his chains out of the way so that he can play with the rings through his nipples, and over his sides, down his stomach, up his thighs. He goes slowly, his mouth going across Dabi's jaw and along his neck and collar bones, looking for places that make Dabi's skin go warm again. When his hands go lower he opens his legs wider, when his fingers, slick again from more lube touch him tentatively, he gasps, "Green," again before they start to move against him. 

He has to keep one arm around the back of his neck, still scared of being tossed aside while he's getting so close to the perfect floaty place he rarely ever gets to find, but the other knots back against the sheets, needing something else to hold onto. Whimpers and moans spill past his lips as Daddy circles his hole until those nerves are prickling with need. When his first finger presses in he feels gone, as the pleasure aches through him as his cock starts to harden again. 

Tomura opens him up with the same deliberate, gentle movements as he did to soothe his hurts and by the time he has three inside of him, moving against his prostate, he is near tears again from how good he feels this time. "Tomura!" He can't help the sounds spilling from him, his cock pressing against his stomach and drooling fresh pre from how needy every touch is making him. "Tomura, Daddy, please, please!" His nails bite into the sheets and the back of his neck. "Please, I want it, please, want your cock." 

"I'm going to give it to you, precious, just have to wait a little longer." Tomura gives him another kiss before he shifts again, pulling a condom from the bowl of them and Dabi waits with breathless impatience for  him to get it on before he's pulling him back in, and shifting to help him line up. His head rubs against his hole as Tomura untangles his fingers from the sheets, catching that hand and threading their fingers together. Before he can feel overwhelmed from the tenderness of that action, he starts to press inside and Dabi is lost in the stretch of him inside. 

It feels like it takes an eternity for him to be so deliciously, perfectly full. Tomura presses more soft kisses across his face as Dabi pants and whimpers, every breath makes his nerves sing like his whole body is trying to make up for the agony from earlier by amplifying every flicker of pleasure. He's hazy with it as he demands, "Green, Daddy," when he can't possibly stand to wait a second longer for it to get even better. 

Tomura breathes a laugh against his skin, leaning back just enough so that Dabi can see him smile. See his pretty eyes looking at him like he's the whole world. "Okay, baby boy, but you know what to say if it's too much?" He nods weakly and Tomura gives him another kiss as he starts to move. 

Dabi has never had sex like this before. He has never been so deep in the cloud of his subspace, never been touched like he was something precious. He has never had someone moving inside of his body, doing everything they could to make him feel good the way Tomura is. He makes sure that he's rubbing against his prostate, going at a slow, deliberate pace that keeps from putting any hard pressure against his seams or bruises, and he doesn't lose his patience with that. He keeps fucking Dabi so carefully instead of chasing his own pleasure, and he looks at him, holds his hand, like this is all he needs. Like seeing Dabi falling apart under him is all he could ever need in the world. Like he's not a burden, not an inconvenience, not an employee, but something... precious. It all makes his head so messy in such a different way than before that Dabi is smoking again as his quirk heightens alongside his pleasure. 

He is so hazy that he doesn't know how long Tomura is moving with him, kissing him, his hand tightening against Dabi's as they both build their ecstasy higher and higher. But Daddy's fucking him slow, so it must be a while. He doesn't know if it matters though, because when his cock starts to ache again, his balls going so tight, and just before his orgasm pulses through him again, he finds himself squeezing their interlocked hands together a little tighter. 

"Tomura," his name is a gasp and he's not expecting the other to whisper back, 

"Dabi," like he's the most important thing in the world. He really doesn't mean for that to push him over the edge, his body thrumming with pleasure that goes even higher as Tomura bottoms out inside of him as they cum together. Dabi doesn't think he's ever managed that with a partner either, but his fog is far too thick for him to care as Tomura captures his lips in another all-consuming kiss. 

///

They lay in bed together for a while, Tomura pressing more kisses and praise into his skin until Dabi stops trembling with his pleasure. Until his fog rolls back from his mind and after the night he's had, all he can do is feel exhausted. Tomura didn't bother taking off his watch when he was getting ready to fuck him, so Dabi catches the edge of his glove and pulls on it so he can see the time. 

"Fucking hell--" he starts to sit up out of the circle of the other's embrace as he realizes it's dawn. He started his session at eleven. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" His stomach sinks. Fuck, fuck, he cause so much trouble for the club tonight and then he'd fucking slept with his boss. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi." Tomura tells him immediately in the same even tone as he did before, with the same warmth in his eyes. "Are you feeling better?" 

He hesitates, taking stock of himself now that his head doesn't feel nearly as out of sorts as he had since he dropped. "Yeah... thanks for taking care of me." 

"Of course--" 

"No," he pushes a little harder, straightening his spine. "You didn't have to do that. You could have left me to deal with it myself, you could have called the cops and let me come down barely-clothed in a police station. But you made sure to take care of me here, and treated the bruises. Thank you." 

Tomura doesn't dismiss the words this time. "...You're welcome, Dabi. Is there anything else that you need?" 

"A shower, breakfast I guess, and the patience to deal with cops and heroes for a couple of hours if I decide to report that douchebag for assault." 

Shigaraki's expression darkens. "This room has a bathroom attached. If you want to go clean up, I can go get your day clothes from your locker and bring them in for you. I can't offer much as far as food goes, but I might be able to help ease the stress of the last part." 

Has Goto been held here the whole time? He'd asked if he wanted to go to the police earlier, but Dabi hadn't been thinking clearly enough to put that statement into any more context. "Okay." Tomura hesitates a second, and then leans in and presses another kiss to his forehead. 

"I'll be right back, firefly." 

///

Dabi goes and takes a shower, and by the time he's finished and dried with the towels that smell sharply of the detergent used to make sure they're clean, Tomura is all buttoned up again and Dabi's day clothes are waiting for him along with another soda, bottle of water, and a bottle of Tylenol. He takes the pain meds, downs the water, and dresses. If he goes to report this then it's going to be a long fucking day to start without a lick of sleep. He should have asked for an espresso martini, though he doubts that any of the bartenders are even still here. 

When he's dressed, white t-shirt, leather pants, leather duster, boots, and his backpack with his medicine, heels, and club clothes inside, he figures there's no putting this off anymore. 

"Okay, let's deal with this fuckwit." He says with more bravo than he feels. 

"If anything is too much, you just have to say the word, and I'll deal with it, Dabi." 

"I appreciate that, Shig, but you can only fix so much." 

Tomura doesn't stall anymore and they leave the private rooms, going through the main area of the club. It's not that unusual for Dabi to be leaving after closing, but it's definitely later than he usually leaves. He's never seen the club completely empty, even the janitorial staff having finished for the day and abandoned it. They go out of the main area and into the hallway of red rooms, and Dabi startles to find the second room on the left has been roped off with velvet barriers because the glass is gone. Dabi pauses, staring at that gaping nothing that's letting him see that the room has been thoroughly cleaned and reset even though he doubts anyone will be using it until the glass is back in place. 

"What happened?" He doesn't remember hearing any glass break. 

"I was in the main room when I noticed the commotion. I didn't want to lose time by running around to the back hallway." 

"You broke the window?"

"No," he says, continuing to move down the hall. "That could have sprayed you with glass. I decayed it." 

"You're insane." Dabi barely manages to say through his thick throat. 

"When I took over this club I said I would make it a safe place for everyone who comes to indulge. I'm not about to let one of my staff, one of my best members of staff, get hurt here." They leave the hall and Dabi doesn't know what to say to that, so he chooses to remain silent. 

Tomura takes him down the service elevator, unlocking the buttons that lead to the basement level with a key and Dabi is a little concerned. He didn't know anyone ever went to the basement levels for anything. But once the elevator is moving again, he reaches back for Dabi's hand and laces their fingers together again, bringing them up so that he can press a kiss to Dabi's knuckles. It puts a warmth, a comfort in his stomach that he's never had the luxury of before. They take the long ride down and when the doors open, Dabi finds the winding pipes and cords that he expected of a place that holds the guts of the skyscraper. Tomura coaxes him out into that tangle of piping, and Dabi follows carefully behind, his quirk sitting hotter under his skin. 

He's led around two corners before they reach a doorway that Tomura knocks on once. He hears a couple of locks being thrown and then the door opens-- revealing Jin, who sees him and immediately breaks into a smile. 

"Hey, Dabs, you doing better?" 

"...Yeah." He wants to ask what exactly is going on, but the other man moves out of the way so that they can see into the room and Dabi bristles, smoke getting trapped behind his teeth as he sees Goto, a gag in his mouth, and his arms cuffed behind him with dampeners where he is strapped to a metal chair that's been bolted to the ground. "What--" Tomura pulls him into the room gently with their entwined hands. 

"Like I said before, we can call the police if you want us to. You have a written contract and a lot of eye-witnesses that will prove that he was in violation of that." He lets go of Dabi's hand to go over to Goto. The other is glaring, his teeth bared as much as they can be around his gag, and Dabi notices that part of his arm is gone. The cuffs are hooked above his elbows because on the right side, everything from the forearm down is gone. And Dabi sees a dangerous thing in Tomura's neutral expression as he takes off his glove, resting four fingers against the back of the chair. "Or we can take care of this now." 

"'Take care of' how?" But the coldness already starting in his gut is answer enough. 

"My quirk doesn't leave anything behind for anyone to find. There isn't even DNA in the dust." He doesn't say it outright, but there's no mistaking this proposal for anything but what it is. And immediately Dabi thinks he should be scared. For as gentle and caring as Tomura just was with him, he can and has, apparently, killed people before. He is dangerous. But he is watching Dabi with that tentativeness from before. Trying to make certain, he thinks, that Dabi is alright just like he has all night. "Jin already sent a double on his way with both arms intact. He can go around living his life until he gets hurt and when that happens, there will be nothing to trace it back to you. You'll be safe, Dabi. No matter what." He promises. 

He'll be safe, he thinks, even if they do go to the cops. He'll be safe, have a club full of witnesses, and his contract-- and he knows that they still won't care. Muscular will get a slap on the wrist, if anything, and then the next time he wants to get his rocks off, he'll go find someone else who isn't in a club full of people who care about what happens to each other. He'll find someone desperate, helpless, and alone, and he'll go further than he could with Dabi-- if he hasn't done that already. "...Your quirk works on anything?" 

"As far as I'm aware." He replies evenly. 

Dabi takes a step forward and Tomura waits. Goto glares at him with his one working eye. Looks at Dabi like he can't understand how someone as low as him could possibly warrant anyone bothering to care about what happens to him at all. It makes that shattered thing inside of him sharpen into something with teeth. He reaches for his face, a flame already in hand and grabs on. 

He can't go hot enough to turn his skull to ashes, not without his seam hurting badly, but it is immensely satisfying to hear him screaming around the gag as it melts over his teeth and tongue as his eyeball boils in his skull. He takes a step back when his hand starts to hurt, and Muscular is still thrashing in the chair, letting out muffled screams. 

Tomura lets it go on for a few more seconds before he catches a part of his arm where the fire hasn't spread yet, and holds on. He screams until he crumbles away. When there's nothing on the chair but dust and the air is filled with the lingering, unpleasant scent of burning hair, Tomura steps around the chair, pulling his glove back on deliberately. Jin slips out of the door, though Dabi sees him lingering outside of it. 

"There. He can't ever hurt you, or anyone else again." He starts to move closer and Dabi takes a step back. 

"Red." The word stops the other man in his tracks, hurt flickering across his features. He takes a deliberate step away from Dabi and doesn't come any closer as he finds the rest of his voice. "...You could though," he says, feeling the prickles of anxiety under his skin. Fuck. Fuck, what did he just do? He might have gotten rid of that bastard, but Tomura owns him now. Even more than he already did. 

"I wouldn't. Not ever, Dabi. If you don't want to work here anymore, then you're free to go. If you'd like a letter of recommendation or a referral to any of the other clubs in this area, I'd be happy to provide it. If you want to stop doing private sessions for a while, then that's alright too. If you want, you can put on some classes-- or you can dance if you want. Kenji mentioned that you two have been practicing together. I can be your boss again," and Dabi doesn't expect the way that makes something go sharp behind his ribs. "Or I can be... nothing to you." 

Dabi hesitates, but Tomura keeps his distance and he can't find even the slightest hint of a lie in his eyes. He just sees them sad and worried, the same way they were when he saw how badly he'd been broken. And Dabi wants them warm on him again the way they had been when he'd held his hand as they came. It's probably wrong, probably insane, but Dabi thinks he could be very happy with Tomura, even knowing that he would destroy the world if it hurt him. He hasn't ever had someone who would take care of him. He's certain Tomura will unless he tells him to stop. And.. he knows now that Tomura will stop if he ever tells him to. 

He's the one who crosses the space between them. "I want a week away," he demands breathlessly. "You don't call, you don't check on me, you don't mess with my profile. You let me leave, knowing I could go to the cops." He catches the lapels of his suit, hands hot with barely contained flame. 

"I can do that, firefly. But," Dabi's stomach sinks, "you need to go up and see Atsuhiro to get your pay for the week. I don't want you to leave without it if you decide not to come back." 

Dabi pulls him into a hard kiss.

///

When he comes back to V a week later, his locker is exactly as he left it, and he doesn't see Tomura until he's getting ready for the consultation. He walks in and finds the other holding himself with his spine straight, looking at his tablet with a furrow in his brow. 

"Dabi, welcome back. I'm sorry, I'm having some kind of technical difficulty. Your bookings for tonight aren't showing up on the schedu--" He catches the edge of the tablet and sets it aside before stepping right back into his space like their last kiss was a minute ago and not a week, and gives him another. 

Tomura goes still against him before his hand wraps around the back of Dabi's neck, his other arm going around his waist, and he kisses him back like he's the only thing that matters in the whole world. Like he's trying to tell him that he'll never be broken again. 

"Canceled them. Just want you to take care of me." He breathes when they part. 

Red eyes go surprised before warming. "I will for as long as you'll let me, firefly." Tomura promises. Dabi seals those words between them with another kiss. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, consider leaving a comment!

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 12: Into The Depths

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: If you aren't cut out to be part of the group, then you’ll just have to go it alone.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, also physical violence, swearing, guilt, arguing, self-doubt, blood, injury, near-drowning

a/n: the warnings on this chapter may tell you that there's quite a lot in store... and after you all loved last week's found family wholesomeness last week, I really hope you're not mad😅

You were beginning to think Kuyang had had it very lucky. The current ‘lab’ you occupied looked more like a bunker to you.

No windows in sight, you instead had to stare at an array of screens displaying the outside world. Waiting.

You moved your fingers idly, blue static crackling between each one. Though you trained your eyes attentively on the ‘view’ beyond the heavy concrete wall, you couldn’t suppress the itch. You knew you weren’t the only one. You had trained, you could fight, but still all you were able to do was react to Bolt’s every whim with no way to anticipate him.

That was Namjoon’s department, though.

Only a tap of your toes belied your otherwise calm, level gaze as you scanned the images.

At the very least, you were here in advance this time. No rushing halfway across the city on an emergency call. This lab housed some kind of weapon, the ‘shield rifle’, and though you had seen it only in pictures, you had to admit it looked a useful piece of kit. The forcefield spheres it fired could be used both for attack and defence. Something you wanted kept on your side. So, for whatever connection had tipped you off this time, you tried to be grateful.

That is, if the threat turned out to be real after all.

A dart of movement made you blink not a second later, half convinced it had been a figment of your restless mind. But no. It was like they had been waiting for your doubt to begin so they could laugh at you.

Hastily regathering your focus, more figures crept into the frame, confirming what you had first seen. A hungry smirk quirked your mouth as you lifted your receiver to your lips.

“I can see four people outside exit C,” you told them, “don’t think they’ve spotted us, though.”

“Copy that. Anyone else got movement?” Jin asked swiftly after.

“Nothing yet.” Jimin.

“Hm, Yoongi, can you get around to Y/N?” Namjoon instructed, “I’m not seeing any other action yet. But stay alert.”

“On the way,” Yoongi said simply.

Beside the screens was a thick door, barely distinguishable from the blank wall. Eager eyes glancing towards it, your feet couldn’t resist a step closer to where action soon promised to bloom.

Were they really that clueless? You almost felt sorry for Bolt’s warriors as you saw them sneak closer, oblivious to the fact they were already unders surveillance, directly in your line of sight. One of them crouched, producing some kind of tool.

You rolled your neck. So they were going to break down the door? They sure were making it simple for you; maybe you could be persuaded to go easy on them.

“You seeing this?” you asked the receiver.

“You ready?” was Namjoon’s response.

Before you could respond, the screens went dark. Smart move – or it would be, if you hadn’t already clocked them.

Yoongi couldn’t be far away. Another confident step took you towards the door, your powers now thrumming in your veins.

Sure enough, the door juddered, before rising from the ground. A bracing breath and you were ready, on your toes. The intruders didn’t fire yet, though. You would have to let them come for you.

“Wait!” a cry crackled through the radio on your hip. Cursing, you snatched at it, hoping your position hadn’t been given away.

“There’s someone else-”

No sooner had you time to frown than a cacophonous crash sounded, somewhere distantly on your left. Even through all the layers of concrete, it rumbled, stirring horror low in your chest.

Backing away several paces, your eyes darted urgently between the slowly raising doorway and the far end of the corridor, beyond which something bigger had just happened.

What was that? The question was on your lips without you thinking it, the only clear thing among a rush of panic that brought your friends’ faces spinning through your mind. Your hallway suddenly felt so isolated, its darkness stretching out either side of you.

But the words never passed your lips.

The moment your receiver was at your mouth, it exploded with noise again.

“Shit-” you had never heard Hope curse before, “Monsoon’s here.”

Your eyes widened. That was a name you had yet to make an acquaintance with. But you knew it alright. Monsoon was a title you had only ever read side-by-side with Bolt in the papers.

“Y/N,” Namjoon’s decisive tone cut through your reeling thoughts, “deal with the first lot. Everyone else, get to exit A and get this fucker out.”

So you stalked forwards, impatiently lifting one arm to finish the door’s ascent. As your powers met the resistance of the concrete, you gritted your teeth and pushed through, lightning gushing from your palm to haul the door aside, leaving you framed in the doorway.

The people from earlier backed away from the door as you finally faced them.

They clutched familiar weapons. The one closest to your shifted their gun defensively, drawing your attention.

“Please, let’s not,” you said flatly, “I have better things to be doing. Though I’m sure you know that.”

It crossed your mind that this lot had likely been a purposeful distraction. Yet more of Bolt’s fodder.

One of them shot a nervous glance to their neighbour. That was the only movement, making you scowl, eyes rolling.

“That yours?” you asked blithely, tilting your head to a van a short way to the right.

You watched with dark amusement as their heads followed your direction. And then your patience snapped. Letting loose a burst of blue power, an extension of you, it closed like a fist around the van and tossed it skywards with an ease that made you smile.

It arced over the group, suspended, for a moment.

Then you brought it slamming back to earth, right at their feet. Close enough to force them scrambling back, away from you. The force cracked the road, blue sparks skittering through trenches carved from impact.

You glared at them through the blue trails of light leaping and sparking from the wrecked vehicle.

They ran.

Feet still planted in the same spot, you waited just long enough to be sure they were really going for good, before you caved to what you had been itching for this whole time.

Turning on your heel, you raced back inside. Yoongi had probably already passed you by, hidden safely until he needed to be. A restless force took you tearing through the place alone towards the main entrance, where Monsoon must have attacked. Looked like they weren’t going for subtlety with this one.

Another abandoned doorway was a blur as you raced on. Another corner and noise reached your ears. Another step, and you were forced to a skidding halt.

Up ahead, a door slammed shut.

Hurriedly shooting a lightning blast at the solid surface, you were poised to run straight through – but nothing moved.

Behind it, you could hear crashes, a brief roar like flames, a rush like waves. When something collided directly with the other side of the door, you slammed your palms against it in frustration. You needed to get in there, help your team!

The communications had dissolved, an incomprehensible exchange blaring back and forth through your radio. Some instructions from Jin, cut off by a cry by Jimin, before a breathless Hope only got half a sentence out. Clearly called back by the fray. You couldn’t bear to be so close, yet helpless.

Giving it one more try, you watched your powers glide fruitlessly around the doorway’s seams, fizzling out.

Grabbing at the receiver, you called into it.

“I can’t get through! How do I open this thing?!”

Namjoon’s voice of reason never answered you. No-one answered you.

Just the echoing collisions of things you couldn’t see, beyond this unfeeling barrier. You were panting harder than ever despite having stopped running. Were they ok?

You needed to get in there.

Breathing out harshly, you stepped back and squared your shoulders. With the strength of your worry filling you, your impatience to help, you summoned as much as you could muster-

And fired.

Jungkook’s familiar shouts from the training room steeled your mind even more. You had honed this power with him, and now you could use it.

The shock of blue connected this time, illuminated your face and the corridor like welding fire as you concentrated it on your obstacle. You felt the kickback but leaned into it, only digging your heels in harder.

For one moment, the electricity grew taught between you and the door, straining like it was solid-

Then it gave way.

The door smashed inwards. Without a second’s hesitation, you strode forwards into the carnage laid out before you.

The space you had entered earlier was in ruins, chunks of the wall lying on the ground in rippling pools of water, electricals hanging, frayed and sparking, from the ceiling. Daylight was thrown inside from the wide open main door, though the smaller ones around the space still lay shut. Oddly, there was none of the purple fire that your group usually left in your wake.

You were about to find out why.

You had quickly scoped out the figures dotted throughout the space: some running, some firing, some just staggering up from the ground. And only one you didn’t recognise.

The hero wore white, starkly standing out against the battered bunker.

In the opposite corner, a fierce plume of purple flame roared to life, silhouetting the stranger. The next instant, the man struck, a torrent of water following his movements and drenching the fire to ash.

V was leaping out of its path, caught mid-air by the blurred form of Hobi. V was dropped to safety on a pile of rubble in a blink. Then Hope kicked off the wall in a one-eighty, landing with one hand on the ground in front on Monsoon.

Then Hoseok charged. Monsoon staggered and dodged, struggling to track the man who ran circles around him. Suddenly, the hero held his arms out, stumbling even more cluelessly. In your hurry towards the action, you spotted a cloud of shadow hovering at his eyes. Yoongi.

Monsoon stopped.

Then the tsunami hit.

Throwing his arms out, Monsoon summoned a ring of water that frothed with white. It hurtled straight for you – straight for everyone – knocking you back in a winding blow. Hobi was struck from the air, even his lightning pace unable to outrun the wall of waves.

Your back never even hit the ground. Churning water turned you over, and you found yourself stumbling to your feet, running in the total opposite direction.

Gasping from the unexpected impact, you collided with something else.

Someone.

Hands grasped your upper arms firmly, keeping you on your feet as you blinked away the slew of water. You looked up into the face of Jungkook.

Brows drawn, he scanned you swiftly. Then he was pulling you back, both of you retreating from Monsoon, who stood taller in the centre once more. His mask gleamed white again, eyes now rid of darkness.

Misguidedly, your eyes hunted for Yoongi. Of course, you didn’t find him. You hoped him being invisible meant he was still alive in here somewhere.

Jungkook’s hands loosened, making you glance back to him. His eyes had left you, focussed somewhere distant.

“What the…?”

Following his look, words stopped in your throat too.

The small doors, the ones which led inside, to the very lab you were defending… were sliding open.

All of them.

“What… ppening…?” your waterlogged radio spit out panicked fragments of Jin’s voice, “I locked these-”

And as you noticed, Monsoon was not far behind.

Hobi was first off the mark, already in front of the man. He dodged one canon-like column of water, successfully knocking Monsoon to the side, but he wasn’t so lucky the second time. Hurrying to support him, a boulder flew overhead, and you were running.

Jungkook’s hand at your back urged you on before you disconnected, running in step towards the enemy.

Jimin’s projectile found its mark, landing solidly in the doorway Monsoon headed for, but the man simply lifted his palms and a flood carried it away before the next could pile up. And the same flood gathered around the hero, carrying him on faster as he deflected another blow from Hope.

Behind him, you plunged forwards into ankle-high water which only deepened the closer you got to the man himself.

A sharp golden streak caught Monsoon unawares. Falling sideways, off-course, he was slammed against the wall beside the opening. Jungkook leapt into the air a moment later, Monsoon’s next shot falling between the two of you.

While you dived out of its path onto the ground, Jungkook took to the air and fired again, again.

But Monsoon was prepared now he had his assailant in sight. He caught each blow with a splash of water in mid-air. His retaliation avenged him, a cannon-like blast of water sending Jungkook crashing against the wall.

Wincing, you watched him slide to the ground clutching an arm. The way his face twisted, teeth bared with pain, had fire bubbling anew within you.

Something else stole your attention first.

Pushing yourself to sit, your ear came close to your receiver where it had fallen. Almost unheard in the chaos of the fight, Jin was trying to figure out the cause of the error.

“I’ve lost the system… ‘s offline.. disturbance started- section C… one of the door- shorted-”

A door shorted the system? In… section C?

Realisation hit you in slow motion, and it was all too fast. Washing over you, heat prickled menacingly, spreading across your skin. A trapdoor opened up for your stomach to fall through, robbing you of more breath than the impact of Monsoon’s freak wave.

It had been you.

Finally struggling to his feet and unopposed, Monsoon dragged himself through the empty doorway. You should stop him. You should-

Numb, you looked up. It wasn’t the bright white of Monsoon that grabbed your eyes. It was another gaze, looking right back at you through the wall of water.

The wave Monsoon had created to tide him through your attacks sunk slowly, seeping back into shallow puddles around where you lay. As it deflated, Jungkook’s eyes came into sharper focus. His pain forgotten, still slumped against the far wall, he suddenly seemed so much closer than he was. You had seen that glare before; why did it drive such a burning poker through your chest now?

Your own guilt pushed it deeper. His eyes only reflected the piercing regret now surging through you.

The world tilted unnaturally as you forced your legs beneath you. Your own breaths thundered through your skull as you twisted, feet leaden as you tried to catch sight of your friends, counting the shapes of bodies… Losing count…

Then you were at Jungkook’s side. On your knees.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, voice far away, “are you-?”

He didn’t wait for you to finish.

Shoving away your outstretched hand, he was on his feet. You rose too, steps falling away from him with rising dread.

“That was- that was you?! You were watching over section C, right? …Right?”

You flinched at his raised voice, breathing coming faster.

“Hey,” a sharp snap cut him off.

Whipping around, you found Hope standing just a pace away. His eyes fell over both of you. Cold.

They lingered on you for only a second, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you, before they rested on Monsoon’s escape path.

“We should be chasing after him.”

But he got no further.

All the lights shut off at once, plunging the space into near-darkness. Only fading daylight from the entrance behind you maintained your sight. The lot of you jumped.

Head snapping up, you whirled around, searching the space. When you faced the outside doorway, the cause made itself known.

Marching inside was Namjoon. His footsteps echoed like gunshots in the silence after the battle.

You physically felt your heart jolting lower with every step he took. Tension radiated from your leader. Instinct had you stepping back as he passed, fists clenched, and disappeared through the door.

You gulped when a flash of red came from the darkness beyond.

Shame burned your eyes. At least the darkness could hide that.

Again, you turned, slower this time. There was V climbing down from the rubble, Jimin taking his hand to help him. You still didn’t see Yoongi, but perhaps that was by design. His absence would have been noted by now if not one of you could see him.

You swallowed harder, dipping your head. You had thought you could help… Instead, you had caused all this? Swayed an already losing battle in favour of the enemy?

No wonder Yoongi wouldn’t grace your sight right now. And Hobi didn’t even want to look at you. And Jungkook-

Jungkook’s rage screamed loud enough through his eyes. You thought you had been used to this, but all of a sudden you couldn’t stomach the thought of the venom in his gaze.

It reminded you of the time you hadn’t known him. When he had been all brick walls and disdain… and you had just watched those barriers slam back up in real time.

It shouldn’t be the thing that stuck in your throat.

He shouldn’t be the one you desperately wanted to take it back for.

No.

Taking a firm breath in through your nose, you stamped on the feeling. It couldn’t make you feel any shittier, tossing it on the steaming pile of shame and ugly humiliation already festering in your gut.

A new flash made you blink back to the outside world. Namjoon stood in front of you all.

“He’s gone… with the shield rifle. The doors are open all the way to the other side.”

When his eyes landed on you, you wished your powers would burn you up from the inside.

That journey home was probably the most you had ever understood Jungkook’s need to lose himself in the gym in moments of frustration.

The silence of the car locked you in, even your halting breaths feeling like too much movement. Your presence felt like a neon sign, advertising your monumental failure to your friends, drawing their eyes without asking for it. If only the seat could swallow you up, render you truly invisible.

And while you sat still, your insides only rioted more.

So the moment you got home, you broke away from the subdued group heading for the living room. And they let you. Even as you walked away, you couldn’t relax, every step controlled. You wished your footsteps would be quiet.

Your footfalls rang out faster and faster on the staircase as you finally began to give in to your bottled-up impatience to move.

Sights set on the entrance to the gym, you already ached for the burn in your muscles. Any hope of dodging the storm of guilt currently bombarding you full-force. By now, your pace was ready to burst into a run, eyes desperately fixed on the approaching door-

A hand caught your arm, roughly wheeling you around.

Before you even noticed it was Jungkook, you had ripped your arm back from his grasp. Trying to reign in your breathing, you shot him a blazing look.

“Jungkook, please leave me alone-”

“You think you can just walk away from this? What was that, back there?”

You breathed in harshly, unprepared for his exclamation. Turning your face to glare hard at the floor, you ground your teeth together.

“I’m not walking away. Just… can it wait?” Your question came out flat.

His brows only drew tighter, disgust rapidly etching into his features.

“Just like you could wait to come barging in to fight Monsoon?” his voice was cutting, “you wanted a piece of the action then! But now you’re the one who gets to decide when we deal with this? It affects all of us.”

Face pinching, you flinched back from his relentless rain of accusations.

With what you told yourself was a steadying breath, in and out, you tried to swallow down your rising irritation.

“I didn’t know it would fry the circuit-”

“What did you think our power does again?!” Jungkook cut you off, incredulous, throwing his arms out.

Shutting your mouth with a snap, you breathed through your nose. Maybe both of you needed to cool off. It wasn’t like you had wanted this to happen!

And yet he was back to treating you like a child, like he was above you-

Shaking his head, a scowl took over Jungkook’s mouth. His glare slipped back into angry disdain so easily, and with a scoff he backed away.

“I knew I was right about you.”

For a terrifying second, the space between you teetered in silence so steep you wondered if you could hear the shaking of your tense muscles. And then-

Something within you snapped.

“What exactly is your problem?” you yelled, not allowing him to turn his back on you, eyes snapping up and ready to meet his fire this time. “Tell me! Ever since I got here you’ve hated me, wanted me gone. Even though the others never-”

Jungkook responded in kind without blinking, eyes hardening and foot stepping sharply forwards.

“They are my brothers,” he spat, “but unlike them, I’m not ready to trust just anyone who walks through the door with powers-”

“I had no other choice!” you cried, arms flying out.

“And that’s supposed to make it better?”

Jungkook pressed closer with the force of his shouting.

You gritted your teeth, stood your ground.

“Listen: I am not Bolt. Have I not proved that to you?”

“The only thing you’ve proved is that we can’t rely on you!”

“It was a mistake, Jungkook! People make mistakes!”

“We can’t afford to make mistakes!” his anger slid then into something darker, lowering in volume but losing no ferocity. “They are all I have in this world.”

“And you don’t think that’s the same for me?!”

His anger boiled over again in an instant.

“You haven’t gone through what we have! You don’t know what it’s like out there for people like us!” Now toe-to-toe, he jabbed a finger at your chest. “You were picked up straight away when you got powers, and we all held your hand through it! How can I really know we’re fighting for the same cause?”

“So that’s it, huh? I have to suffer in order for you to trust me?” you scoffed.

A heavier frown flickered along Jungkook’s brow, but when his mouth opened it was only to scowl. Had you finally rendered him speechless?

Eyes locked, barely inches apart, you both breathed heavily. Not one breaking away. Not one backing down. Jungkook’s jaw ticked. A similar spasm struck you, only it was a searing swipe of hurt through your chest.

Stirring up the power that dwelt there.

The crackle of lightning was audible, albeit only a single strand of static that escaped your palm. Reflected back in Jungkook’s eyes, your own bright flash of blue.

As if it had burnt him, he jerked away, severing eye contact.

Hurriedly putting distance between you, he looked back up once more. Gone was the hardened glare. Face slack, his expression was wide open with something so raw…

In one motion, the frown shifted his features once more. With a final, chilling look, he turned stiffly and stalked away. The change had almost been quick enough to convince you you never saw him look so wounded just a moment before.

His steps rang out on the stairs, and were gone.

Like a string had been cut, you deflated, finally allowing yourself a few reeling steps back.

You paused there. Staring hollowly ahead, you never turned back to the gym. All your previous intentions of escape had done just that and fled.

A shaky breath transformed into an embarrassing sniff. Gritting your teeth, you did your best to swallow down the sob that tried to break from your throat.

Breaths coming choppily, your eyes tracked the path Jungkook had just walked away from you. Your lips couldn’t resist the harsh downwards tug as his words fed the storm of your thoughts.

There was no brushing off Jungkook’s comments, like you had often done in spats past. There was no hand on your shoulder telling you not to mind him – no, that would have to come from one of the people you had just put in danger. Whose plans you had ruined…

Jungkook may be the only one up to saying it, but they must all agree with him by now.

His words hadn’t bounced off a shield this time. They had split your flesh and buried deep inside you, writhing in the current of regret dragging you off your feet.

He didn’t think you were on the same side? You had thought you had earned their trust, but now you couldn’t blame them for their doubt in you, after such a monumental fuck-up.

You twisted your fingers into a fist to prevent your hand from clutching your head. This was no time for self-pity. You weren’t the one who deserved comfort here. It was you who should be making things right.

With a shallow breath, you rolled your shoulders. Chose to dig your feet in against the stream of ugly emotions.

Some workout wouldn’t fix this.

You would.

At that promise, the waters settled around you, content with being given direction at last. The resolution may have granted a tenuous peace, the mess of shame still swirling below the surface, but at least you could breathe easier. At least you could move your feet, a new ease to your movements at the prospect of redeeming this catastrophe.

The odd sensation of walking a high wire remained nonetheless. Controlling each breath, aware not to make a sound, you cracked open the door at the head of the stairs.

Silence met you.

If you were lucky, the boys may have dispersed already. If they had, though, you had no guarantee as to how long they would stay away. It wasn’t like them to totally split. Knowing them the way you did, you had seen the way they got through things together, sticking by each other’s side after the hardships just as much as the victories.

A bitter weight settled in your heart. You had hoped to be part of that. Their care as a group was the reason you fought, the very people you had now jeopardised.

Stepping into the hallway, the guilt never left you behind, but you forced it to the back of your mind as you emerged, scanning the place. You heard a shower running on your way down the hall. It made sense that they would be recovering, regrouping.

A quick sweep of the living space showed it bare.

Or so you thought. One more step and your breath caught in your throat, catching the top of a head which had previously been obscured by sofa cushions.

Freezing as if you had been caught in headlights, it took you a moment to realise he was asleep. It was V, a faint line over his brows as he dozed. You glanced once more around you; if V was here, it wasn’t like Jimin to leave him alone, particularly in a vulnerable state like this.

You suddenly had to fight down a lump in your throat at the thought that you could be seen as the threat.

Which was why you had to do this; prove yourself anew.

No one was here. You had to move.

Marching fast as you dared, you made it soundlessly to the stairs. You had seen Jin and Jungkook on separate occasions getting the keys, and swiped one from the inconspicuous row of hooks below the counter.

You had never been the one with the keys, but you found you had watched the others long enough to know by instinct the button to open the front door. The instant you could squeeze through the gap, you closed it right behind you again.

Jogging on light feet, you made it to the smallest car they kept here. Another press of the keys showed you had managed to pick the right key, and you slid into the driver’s seat.

A flex of your fingers on the steering wheel, and you were set. You gave yourself no time to think before pulling away. All you would find was an array of thoughts competing for the best way to torment you.

It had been your short-sightedness, selfish impatience, that had brought Bolt one step closer to what he wanted. You had single-handedly put everyone in danger.

And all you had wanted to do this entire time was help.

Sparse rain greeted you outside, swiping heavy droplets against the windows.

The city passed in a blur, each grey road forgotten the moment you turned to the next. You were too stuck in your own mind. Maybe it should have bothered you how much of Jungkook you found there. But with your memories taking you on a wild goose chase – after some vague hope of seeing where it all went wrong, if he had seen the truth about you from the beginning – questioning why his words suddenly meant so much to you wasn’t something you had room to entertain.

Everything he said replayed as you neared your destination.

You haven’t gone through what we have.

What had he meant by that? The rest was clear enough, unpleasant as it was. But this? A brand new stake of guilt twisted at the dawning realisation. The boys all knew how you had gained your powers; they had all been there. But as for the rest of them…

Had you really been so blind? You hadn’t thought of it as easy, but when you walked into this life it had been laid out for you… Had you been thoughtless? Did you take your new friends for granted?

Of course you had wondered… How they had come to be there, how they had ended up together.

You tried to cling onto some hope in the form of, well, Hope, and of course V, who had each wanted to tell you their stories. But now you hardly felt like you had deserved their candidness. Why had they even told you? Had it been out of pity? That conversation had followed yet another of your fuckups... The thought made you wince, and your doubts were accompanied by a sharp needle of guilt for having them in the first place.

Such warring thoughts about your friends only propeled the spiral further. Perhaps you had assumed you would be let in on other stories when the time came. But now you saw you had never been close enough to know, to be deigned worthy. Your arrogance sickened you.

Tearing yourself forcefully from yet another well of self-depreciation, you blinked through the windscreen.

Hurriedly indicating, you pulled off. This was it. The docks showed themselves at the end of the road, and you pulled over in the shadow of a building.

Though the car stopped, you held onto the wheel for another moment, breathing deeply. If your worries had almost made you miss your turning, you knew you ought to be more careful with what you were about to do. Being off the ball could be disastrous.

Attacking any of the top dogs was off the table for bangtan for obvious reasons. Didn’t stop them having tabs on where they hung out. You had clocked it on a map Jin had shown you when he was explaining the various movements they were planning with their partners.

To be fair, you probably could have guessed by yourself that Monsoon would be by the biggest supply of water in town.

Okay, make this as simple as possible. Worrying about the boys wouldn’t help you make it up to them. Probably the opposite was true, in fact.

Stepping from the car, you shut the door softly. Stuck to the shadows as you moved towards the river, not flinching despite the rain against your face.

The river was high in its banks, a great mass roiling downstream, churned by wind you hadn’t previously noticed. Now that you reached the exposed plain of the docks, it pulled at your hair ferociously.

You didn’t mind. It covered you better, no longer afraid to make a sound as you moved, eyes constantly scanning.

Monsoon’s lair was close.

The light was fading fast, the blue of twilight well-established already. This time of day, it seemed the docks were mostly empty. Darting past a couple of warehouses, you saw no signs to direct you to your target, but were not dissuaded.

You used a stack of shipping containers ahead as your shield to sneak up to the river’s edge. Peering over the railings, you squinted at what little you could see of the concrete bank. Black water crashed at the edges, occasional spray joining the raindrops beating thinly at your skin.

Gripping tighter to the cold metal of the railing, you leaned further out. This time, you were rewarded. A little way up, a blue light glistened just above the waves, out of line with the white ones lining the docks’ edge.

Daring to let a smile lift your mouth, you crept nearer.

When you were almost on top of it, a darker patch of shadow fell away in the path, revealing a stairwell. The unassuming concrete steps would have passed you by at any other time, but it was exactly what you were hunting for now.

You hurried down.

It seemed you had hit the jackpot. What simple workman’s entrance would have such a high-tech control panel to get in?

Stepping up to it, you saw no sign of a camera, but that was no guarantee. Placing your hand over the panel, you covered the blue light glowing from the screen. This shouldn’t be too hard for you… But the similar situation mere hours ago had your heart racing a beat too fast in your chest. Aside from the others, you had to prove to yourself that you had the control needed.

Tentatively engaging your powers, you extended just enough to blow out this lock. The blue of the screen was joined by your own light, seeping between your fingers, and then both died.

You hoped you had been quick enough in your caution, not allowed Monsoon time to be alerted of your intrusion.

With the lock disarmed, the door fell open a crack. Just waiting for you.

It slid seamlessly open at your touch. The hallway beyond was dark, but it was clearly the right direction. While the construction was plain as the docks outside, flat walls leading you on, this was not built with identical concrete.

Summoning a ball of glowing light to guide you on, the brightness reflected startlingly back at you. From walls made of marble.

Dimming the light in your palm, you blinked in surprise for a moment. Eyebrows raised, you shook your head and pressed on. Monsoon was really in the lap of luxury here. What more did he want to achieve by stealing weapons?

If you were in a situation to build an entrance hall out of marble, you reckoned you would be calling it quits on any kind of work.

The impression was only elevated when you reached the end of the corridor. Peering around the next door, you were forced to expand your light source again. The room it lit up was vast and lavish. Set into the far wall was a huge window, giving you a view of the rippling water beyond. So you were below the river level here.

Stepping further inside, your blue light glimmered back at you from the depths.

You barely turned your eye over the living space as you stepped on a plush rug between stately sofas. What you were here for was right in front of you.

Laid out before the window, a clear cabinet sat full of various devices. Monsoon kept these weapons like trophies.

Near the bottom, you spied the shield gun he had secured today. You should have taken it and gone, right then.

But as you cast your eyes upwards, they stuck on the gun that took up pride of place. White casing held a clear, spherical centre. Needles of pale lightning darted inside. It froze you where you stood, a paralysing memory of cold and dread crashing over you for a second too long.

“Who the hell are you?”

You weren’t proud of the way you jumped. You instantly shut off your blue light, a second later being dazzled by white flooding the space as the main light was flicked on.

Your eyes were quick to find him. In the corner near the vast window, emerging from another entrance in this impressive lair, was Monsoon. Presumably, in any case. He had no mask anymore, but who else could it be?

Instinct kicking in, you dived for the thing you had come for. One hand stretched out for the shield gun, the other raising to fire a panicked bolt his way.

It never hit.

Monsoon swept a hand forward. Before you could gasp, a globe of water had engulfed you, taking your feet from under you.

Your reaction never got further than a thought. Trying to lash out, your body didn’t respond. Through your watery prison, you saw Monsoon step forwards, lifting his arm to raise you higher from the ground in the bubble he had created – the bubble trapping your electricity in here with you. The current buzzing in the water was your own, you could feel it. But you couldn’t control it. Couldn’t move at all.

“A Bolt wannabe, are you?” his voice reached you, muffled by the water in your ears.

You could only glare back, terror clenching your muscles almost as much as the electric current. A burning ache crept agonisingly from your lungs.

“Did you forget those powers could hurt you, too?”

Through dark splotches rapidly dimming your vision, all you saw were cold, mirthful eyes. Your entire body screamed for air, but your mind was clouding. Vague images assaulted you, of a storm whirling around you as you fell, of blue cutting through the night. You were trapped in a nightmare, your own powers the ones attacking you again, not the thing you had grown to love, understand and use.

Faux sympathy brought Monsoon’s face into a mocking pout, but even the rage it stirred in you couldn’t hold a flame to the flood pushing you farther from consciousness-

Your bones collided with the floor. You were already coughing and gasping before the pain from your knees and head began to bloom.

Choking in blissful air, you forced your shuddering arms to raise you from the ground.

Glaring up at Monsoon, you brought your arm forward again. Your enraged powers were more than ready to strike him down.

In one step, the man stamped down on the wrist stretched towards him. Pressed down harder as his eyes burned into yours.

“You may have powers,” he spoke, ignoring the way you winced as your bone ground against the floor, “but we can still cook you from the inside if we try for long enough.”

Lunging forwards, he released your arm only to grasp your collar. Dragging you up, he left your weakened legs scrabbling on the ground. Then he sent a fist flying hard into your face.

The impact flung you backwards, the weapons cabinet rattling. One temple connected with a solid shelf, pain biting at your forehead. Hands finding the surface, you clung to it, felt blood slick beneath your fingers at the same moment as the warm liquid dripped into your eye.

Striding to close the distance once more, Monsoon towered over you. He rested one shoulder on the cabinet and gave a cocky tilt of his head.

“What is it you were after, hm?” his eyes dragged teasingly along the shelves, “I rather fancy these myself-”

You could only scramble backwards. It wasn’t enough to escape the blade he flung your way, and another. One struck your cheek, one your collar. Inches higher and it could have slit your throat.

Two metal stars clattered to the ground around you while you panted. How were you going to get out of this? Your powers didn’t mix with Monsoon’s.

Pulling your legs out of the way, you did the first thing you thought of. With your good arm, you fired again. Sending a sharp, but powerful, burst, you hit a different mark. Instead of going for Monsoon, you sent the cabinet crashing down over him.

With a shout, he was pushed to the floor among a rain of metal and glass. Your eyes followed one particular weapon as it rolled away, white light mercifully still contained.

Desperately wobbling to your feet, you fell against an armchair, clinging to it to stay upright while the world swam around you. You pushed off it towards a sofa, hands grabbing the back to support you as you staggered on towards the door you had entered through.

A scraping filled the air. Monsoon, throwing off the shelves that crushed him.

Before you could dive for the exit, a winding impact struck you, sending you headfirst over the couch. The wave dispersed, leaving you gasping again, this time on the sodden rug.

A fearful look over your shoulder showed Monsoon looming behind the sofa.

“Get out of my house,” he spat.

And then, as if in reverse, the water puddled around you was sucked inwards. Collecting into a rippling sphere, it carried you helplessly. This time, you could move your limbs, but the thrashing was useless against the force that sent you flying towards the window.

Screwing your eyes shut, you waited for the impact of shattering glass around you.

It never came.

That was no window. The water hadn’t been held back by glass.

Instead, you were plunged straight into the depths. Bitingly cold torrents enveloped you. The bright light of Monsoon’s abode flew from your sight as the raging river swept you downstream in its currents.

Your flailing arms fought a losing battle. The water consumed every bit of strength you exerted, and pushed back harder, flinging you over until you lost your bearings completely in the blinding darkness.

Raging in your ears, the river stretched out black below you and above you… although you couldn’t tell which was which. You were at the mercy of the current thrusting you further into the numbing depths, the water which battered at you stinging in your wounds.

Sapped of movement, the most you could do was bite down and try not to breathe. Your lungs burned; it was only a matter of time until involuntary instinct would take over, flood you from the inside.

The churning water flipped you over again. With the sickening lurch of your stomach, it took too long for your numb skin to register the air that slapped you round the face.

The waves had spat you out at the exact right moment. You hauled air into your lungs in a shuddering gasp, arms desperately pushing down at the waves around you in an attempt to keep your head above them.

There was no getting out of this with your powers, even if you could summon them in your current state. As a wave swiped at your face, sending you back under for a horrifying second, you longed for the ease of simply flying away with a boost from your powers.

Or even… someone blazing down from the sky in a shower of gold, always there when you needed him in battle.

But there was no one to save you. Twisting your head, every snatch of vision between the waves showed nothing but a lonely expanse of water so much bigger than you. The row of lights at the bank was too far away, glinting temptingly out of reach.

Another swell caught you, pushing your head under. Its power swamping you, you were rolled over, the cold clawing at you and forcing its way into your mouth. Each moment you surfaced was cut short, barely enough for a breath before the flow overwhelmed you once more. You couldn't even feel the rain which beat against your face.

As the storm tossed and toyed with you, your rapidly fogging mind only filled with your friends. Their care, their laughter, their loyalty. How you wished you could have been enough.

More waves, more snatches of air stolen away. You wondered if your body would have given out already had you not had powers to bolster your endurance, prolong the nightmare.

A harder impact set off a ringing in your ears.

That hadn’t been water.

Waves already tangled around you again, but the smallest spark of hope had you fighting to the surface. Your arm hit against something solid, the force of the water dragging you against it tearing grazes into your skin.

Somehow you had ended up at the edge, where the river slammed at its banks. Currents tugged in every direction as you scrabbled to grasp something, anything, of the concrete walling you in.

For one terrifying instant, a rebounding swell overwhelmed you, forcing your fingertips away from land-

The next surge crashed around your ears, flinging you back the other way. Upwards, it scaled the wall and you made your last push.

Colliding with brick and metal, you threw your arms around a pole. As the hungry water sucked at your limbs, clawing to drag you down again, you clung to that railing with all the strength you had left.

The water fell away.

Releasing your grip, you collapsed onto the stone. Ignorant to everything beyond your own heartbeat, you were ignorant to footsteps rapidly firing closer. You only closed your eyes. And finally breathed.

Thank you for reading!💜💜

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